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#eugene roe x you
mads-weasley · 1 year
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C'est Toi
Eugene Roe x Medic!Reader (Soulmate AU)
Masterlist
A/N: Hiiii @issiie / @cetaitlaverite !! Sorry again for the delay! This is the last gift from me, and I hope you've enjoyed them so far. I'm excited to release this fic! It is my first attempt at a soulmate au, so bear with me! I do not own any of these characters except for (y/n). Enjoy!
Summary: People never know when they'll meet their soulmate, but (y/n) would have never thought she'd meet hers in a hot, humid town in Georgia.
Warnings: mentions of wounds, blood, death, etc...
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For as long as she could remember, (y/n) (y/l/n) wondered if she had already met her soulmate. The small mark above her hip was a constant reminder of what, more like who, who was yet to come into her life. As she grew up, she always looked out for the matching mark on every boy she went out with, but soon grew tired of the chase, deciding that it would happen at the right time.
Before the "right time" could come, the world descended into war, and (y/n) enlisted, wanting to serve her country like the rest of the men in the military. After a rough time of convincing generals and higher-ups in the army, she was granted permission to be a combat medic in the 101st Airborne, Easy Company.
Basic was hard, but she made it through Sobel, even though he had it out for her especially. One thing that got her through the long runs up Currahee and the long lectures was her fellow medic, Eugene Roe. The Cajun was shy at first, but (y/n) soon brought him out of his shell when she started talking about the family she left behind. From then on, they were inseparable. You would rarely find one without the other, and if you did, you knew that they would make their appearance soon.
Before they knew it, it was the night of June 5th, hours before the "Day of Days" they trained for would begin.
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June 6th, 1944
After getting all geared up for the jump, (y/n) made her way over to where Eugene was making sure everyone in his platoon had enough bandages in their personal aid kits. Her stomach was buzzing with uncertainty and a twinge of fear as she waited for him to finish.
"Salut, ma chérie," he called to her, a smile painting his face. She could tell it didn't quite meet his eyes, though.
"Hey, Gene." She took a deep breath as she approached him. "Are you ready for this? Cause I don't know if I a-"
He gently placed his hands on her arms, squeezing softly to stop her rambling. "You've got this, (y/n/n). Don' worry, okay? We're gonna be fine."
At his touch, a warmth spread through her body, and she could feel a blush creep up her face. He was her best friend, so why was she freaking out at a simple touch from him?
Pushing through the feeling, a defeated sigh escaped her lips as she muttered toward the ground. "Promise me you'll be careful. Please."
He moved his hands to cup her cheeks, his soft browns peering into her (y/e/c) ones. "I promise, ma chérie. You too."
Feeling the heat from his breath on her skin, she glanced down at his lips before catching herself after a split second.
"Alright, Doc," she whispered, reluctantly stepping back. "I'll see you in France."
With a solemn expression, he nodded, scanning her face as if it was the last time he would see her, heart racing. Just before she turned away, he caught her wrist gently, pulling her into a tight embrace, burying his head into the crook of her neck.
When he finally pulled away, Eugene turned and walked towards his plane, knowing that if he turned back, he wouldn't be able to leave her. Doing the same, (y/n) took a deep breath, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall. They would see each other again. They had to.
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The unsettled feeling in (y/n)'s stomach didn't settle. Not even when she found Floyd Talbert on the way to the rally point. Not even when she linked up with most of the company at the designated point.
Only did the feeling subside when she laid eyes on a very exhausted-looking Eugene Roe. Along with this feeling, an invisible weight lifted off her shoulders as she saw him patching up a soldier in the distance.
"Gene," she whispered under her breath before running toward him.
The man he was helping started to limp slowly over to the aid station, and Gene stood up, taking a deep breath.
When she called his name again, his head shot up, and a smile instantly formed on his grimy face when he saw her. He met her halfway, throwing his arms around her middle, and pressed his cheek against her hair with a sigh.
"Je remercie le Seigneur," he murmured, "Thank you."
At that moment, Gene was more content than he had ever been before. She was living and breathing. That's all he'd asked for.
The time they were separated, though only hours, he felt like his heart was unable to beat properly until he saw her again. Throughout his journey through the forest of Normandy, the image of her smiling face kept him going, along with the hope he was going to see it again soon.
Pulling away, Gene cupped her face gently, searching her face for injuries. "Are you alrigh'? Are ya' hurt?"
"I'm okay, Gene," she mumbled, placing her hands over his. "I'm okay.
Tension thickened the air, and his heart began to beat out of his chest as she looked up at him with the most beautiful face he'd ever seen. In a split-second decision, he chose to finally tell her how he felt.
"Listen, I need to-"
"Medic!" he was interrupted.
(Y/n) nodded in the call's direction. "Go."
Scanning her face one more time, he ran toward the cry for help, already missing (y/n)'s warmth.
As she watched him go, she tried to calm her racing heart. He was alive. Gene was alive.
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The next few days after D-Day, they were ordered to take the town of Carentan. Supposedly, there was a company of German paratroopers holding the city, but no one knew for certain what they were walking into.
Gene and (y/n) were at the back of the formation of Easy as they waited over a hill on the road to Carentan. They watched Lieutenant Winters speak to Harry Welsh before giving the signal to go.
Nodding to each other, they began to run toward the town. Within seconds of the company moving in, a cry in German could be heard, followed by the dreaded sound of machine-gun fire. (Y/n) watched in horror as some of the men beside her were gunned down easily.
"In the ditch!" Winters yelled over the chaos.
Not hearing the order, (y/n) kept on running with the surviving men of 1st platoon into Carentan.
Gene's heart dropped seeing her sprint into the onslaught of bullets.
"(Y/n)!" He yelled, but she didn't hear him.
Dust sprung from the ground before her as she barely made it to cover with Harry and George Luz. Slamming into the concrete building beside them, Welsh looked behind them, realizing the rest of the company was nowhere to be found.
"Where is everybody?" He shouted as Luz shoot a few times around the side of their cover.
Taking cover, George hid behind the wall momentarily. "I have no idea!"
During this interaction, (y/n) was scanning their surroundings, trying to find any indication of where everyone was, especially Gene. At this point, her eyes were trained to find the bright white and red armband they wore, but she saw no trace of it.
'He'll be okay,' she told herself. 'He'll be okay.'
In less than a minute, the rest of Easy began swarming into the town, and that's when the first cry for a medic could be heard.
"Medic up!"
Saying a silent prayer, (y/n) took a deep breath and ran out into the chaos. Bullets whizzed by her as she found the injured man in an alleyway.
"Help me, Doc! It's my arm!" the soldier yelled when she slid down beside him.
"I've got ya, sweetheart. You're gonna be okay."
She pulled out her bag and sprinkled sulfa on the wound, bandaging it up the best she could. Once she was done, she asked the man if he could stand.
"I think so, ma'am."
"Good," she responded. "Go back toward our infill point and take cover there."
Just as the words left her mouth, another yell for a medic could be heard. Within two seconds, she was on her feet, making her way toward the next injured man.
"This is going to be a long and hard day."
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A good bit into the battle, Gene had treated many men but was yet to see his (y/h/c) counterpart darting through the streets of Carentan. This could have been attributed to the fact that the town was like a maze, different streets and alleyways made it hard to navigate it, even though it wasn't that large.
Taking cover in an old bakery, Gene glanced to his right to see Shifty Powers aiming his rifle at what he suspected to be a sniper. After he was done shooting for a moment, Roe called out to him.
"Powers. You seen (y/l/n)?"
He had to think for a second but nodded a few seconds later. "Yeah. I saw her helping someone with a shoulder wound not too long ago."
"Alright. Thanks," Gene responded, brows furrowing in concern.
'Where is she, now?' He thought, watching as men flew by the entrance of the bakery.
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"Medic!"
Like always, (y/n) went flying toward the sound, disregarding the danger she was putting herself in. Halfway there, she heard the desperate voice of Lip echo through the street.
"Move, move, move!" He yelled, motioning for them to take cover.
With a curse, (y/n) continued toward the injured man 10 feet in front of her. Before she could make it there, she heard the distinct whistle of an incoming shell, and the next thing she knew, she was thrown backward from its impact.
The breath was knocked from her lungs by the force of the explosion. Frozen, she tried to speak, but nothing came out but strangled gasps.
She vaguely heard someone call her name, but all she could focus on was the violent buzzing in her ears and a burning sensation spreading through her stomach. Trying to lean up on her elbows, she yelped at a sharp pain in her abdomen and fell back on the hard ground, hand flying to the area. When she pulled it away, it was coated in crimson.
"I'm h-hit," she whispered to no one in particular. "I ca-can't b-bre-breathe"
Suddenly, a body slid next to hers, their hands hovering over her.
"(Y/n)! Oh mon Dieu."
Gene. It was Eugene. Even though he was sick to his stomach, he pushed it aside and went into medic mode. She wasn't just another wounded soldier, but right then, he had to treat her as one.
"Ge-Gene?"
"Yeah, it's me, chérie. I've got ya. Hold on."
He hooked his hands under her armpits, pulling her toward a nearby building.
"Come on, sweetheart. I got ya."
Whimpers escaped her mouth as he jostled the wound when they moved. Just when they got around cover, Harry Welsh came sprinting around the corner, hand holding his helmet to his head. At the sight before him, his heart dropped. Everyone knew how close the two of them were.
"Doc, do you need help?"
"No," he responded, lifting her shirt to get a look at the wound. "Tell Spina what happened."
With a reluctant nod, Harry raised his rifle and went to find Ralph. Gene glanced at (y/n)'s face, which was covered in scratches and scrunched up in pain, and quickly gave her a morphine shot to the shoulder. Seeing her visibly relax, he felt a slight relief as well.
"You're alright, chérie. You're alright," he whispered, cupping her cheek gently.
"Thans', Ge," she slurred, eyes fluttering shut from the morphine.
He quickly got out a bandage and started to clean the wound, which he discovered was from a two-inch piece of shrapnel that was embedded in her abdomen. Sprinkling sulfa on the area, Gene froze when he saw a discolored area just above her hip.
Shaking the feeling away, he finished bandaging her up before wiping the area in question clean of any blood.
The shape of the mark was instantly recognizable. It was a mirror image of the one on his hip.
If they had matching marks, it could only mean one thing. His eyes widened at the realization.
They were soulmates.
"C'est Toi," he muttered under his breath. "It's you."
The young man's heart began to race at the thought, and all the feelings for her he'd suppressed since Toccoa came bubbling back to the surface.
He was pulled from his stupor by the voice of Spina.
"She alright?"
Gene cleared his throat, "Yea', she took shrapnel to the stomach, but it's out now. She'll have to come off the line."
"Shame. I know we really need her out here with us."
Glancing back down at her, he smiled. "You have no idea how much."
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Before long, they carefully loaded (y/n) onto a stretcher, and she was sent to the aid station. When she woke up, a familiar head of dark hair was resting on the side of the bed, his hand intertwined with hers.
Deciding to let him sleep, she watched him silently. Nowadays, a solemn look occupied his handsome face most of the time, so she loved seeing the carefree version of him.
"Glad to see you're awake," whispered Lip, who was laying on the cot beside her.
"Me too. What happened to you?"
"Mortar," he replied matter-of-factly.
"Ah, I'm sorry, Car."
He smiled softly, "Thank you. You too, (y/n). I know he'll miss you."
"I'll miss him just as much," she replied, running her free hand through Eugene's hair.
Shooting up at the action, he grinned at her sleepily, asking. "Hey, chérie. How are you feelin'?"
"Sore, but I'll be okay...What happened after I fell asleep?"(Y/n) paused. "I don't remember much."
Not expecting the question, Gene about choked on nothing just thinking about his life-altering discovery. "I just patched ya' up and brought you here."
Although he was the one who brought her to the aid station, seeing her all bruised and bandaged suddenly made the situation real. He could have lost her. Tears glistened in his eyes, and he dropped his chin.
"I'm so glad you're alright. I don't know what I'd do without you, (y/n). I mean it. When I saw you laying there...I had to-"
"Stop," she interrupted. "You're not gonna lose me...and I don't know what I'd do without you, either."
"Who else would patch you up?" He joked, rubbing her hand softly with his thumb.
(Y/n) chuckled lightly at the joke, followed by a wince. "Please don't make me laugh."
"Sorry, darlin', my jokes normally don't make anyone laugh."
Even though she tried to hold it in, a laugh escaped her lips, causing her to groan lowly. "Gene!"
"Sorry!"
They sat in silence for a few minutes until her eyes began to droop and she yawned. Eugene ran his hands through her hair gently, lulling her to sleep.
"Go to sleep, (y/n)," he whispered. "I'll be here when you wake up."
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October 1945: Zel am See, Austria
Over the 8 months since Gene found out about (y/n)'s soulmate mark, he was tempted to tell her many times but decided against it.
Even though he wanted her to know how he felt, he was going to wait until the war was over. The last thing he wanted was for them to finally get confess, only for one of them to get killed.
When the Japanese surrendered in September, everyone was celebrating, but once everything settled down, they began thinking about home, more importantly, who they'd be coming home to. Gene had been thinking about telling (y/n) more and more each day, and it reached a boiling point in mid-October.
The Austrian landscapes around them were some of the most beautiful any of the men had ever seen, specifically, a lake with a perfect view of the Alps. This was where he was going to tell her how he felt; a place that was untouched by war.
That day, the company was finally having a rematch baseball game from V-J Day after George and Frank, who were on the losing team, pitched a fit about it not being a fair game. While the rest of the company was getting ready for the game, Gene approached (y/n)'s billet door.
Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.
Heavy footsteps came thumping down the hallway, followed by (y/n)'s aggravated voice.
"No, Frank. I'm not playing in the stupid ga-"
Opening the door, she froze mid-sentence when she saw the shy-looking Cajun.
Her heart skipped a beat at the sight, and a blush crept up her neck. "Gene! I thought you'd be playing in the game?"
He simply chuckled. "I'm not very good at baseball."
"Me neither," she started. "So, what brings you to my humble abode?"
"Since neither of us is playing, would you maybe want to go-"
"Yes," (y/n) interrupted. "Yes."
A smile broke out on his face. "Don't you want to know what I was gonna say?"
"Nope. Surprise me?"
"Sure."
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"Alright. Close your eyes for me." Said Gene as they came up to the special place he'd found for them.
She listened and held her hands in front of her with a laugh. "Okay. Just don't let me run into anything, Eugene!"
"Don't worry. I've got ya, chérie," he said sweetly, taking her hands gently.
Arriving, he turned her toward the lake, sliding an arm around her shoulders. "Open."
(Y/n)'s eyes sprung open and widened at the view. "Gene, it's beautiful!"
"Do you like it?" He asked sheepishly.
(Y/n) turned to him with a surprised expression. "Of course I do. Thank you."
This was the moment.
Gene gently took her hands in his once again. "(Y/n)," he whispered. "I love you. And I kno-"
He was cut off by (y/n) pulling his face down to hers, crashing their lips together. As they pulled away, she chuckled breathily. "Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?"
The young man was beaming with happiness. "Just how long?" he questioned.
"Since I found out we were soulmates," she said, shrugging her shoulders with a grin.
Gene's eyes went wide. "Wait! You knew?"
"Since Toccoa."
"How?"
"I think you forget that you slept shirtless in Georgia."
Running a hand down his face, he sighed. "Of course. I'm an idiot."
"No, you're not," (y/n) paused. "And I love you, too."
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maximoff-pan · 2 months
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Follow up to my last post:
Okey so I’m definitely thinking of writing some band of brothers fics… Who would you guys like to see me write for first?
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softguarnere · 2 years
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A World Without Color is a World Without You (Part 2)
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Eugene Roe x reader
A/N: I won't lie -- this story was only ever supposed to be one part, with that angsty ending leaving things open to interpretation. But I got quite a few messages asking for a part two, and I knew that that cliffhanger shouldn't be the end. I hope that you like this unexpected second part, and thanks to everyone who requested it (as always, this is written for the fictional depiction from the show -- no disrespect to the real life veterans!)💕🕊️
Warnings: mentions of war, injuries, hospitals
"Today must be the day, huh?" The Baker Company girl that you've come to know as Alice says from the hospital bed beside you.
Her words draw you out of your reverie. The words on the page in front of you don't even look real anymore, you've stared at them for so long. Still, your eyes linger on them before you manage to tear them away and face her.
"You're gonna go AWOL." Her tone is casual enough, but the slight furrow of her brow only makes the sadness in the depths of her pretty eyes even more noticeable. Green, you remind yourself, still trying to get used to placing names with the colors that are suddenly everywhere. Alice has been helping you learn them.
You glance around to make sure that there are no nurses within earshot. There's one a few beds down. You keep your voice low when you ask, "What makes you say that?"
"You just got that look about you." Alice shrugs. "Seen it enough times to know when a new friend is about to up and walk out when no one is paying attention; you get used to the signs."
Her eyes aren't the only thing that's green -- jealousy drips from her voice, and she doesn't even bother to conceal it. And why should she, when she's been stuck in the hospital for months after getting her leg blown off in Bastogne, watching everyone else return to the line while a problem with paperwork keeps her from returning to the States? Anyone would be bitter about that.
. . . nothing's the same now after Bastogne, the words of George's letter remind you when you glance down at it again. I wish you and Toye were here, but at the same time, you guys aren't suffering with the rest of us anymore.
No, you're stuck in a hospital, even though you can walk just fine, thank you very much. At least, that's what you keep trying to tell the nurses. You have a slight limp that reminds you of the way Guarnere walked around on his cast when he went AWOL, and you're just as determined to get back to Easy.
"I'm sorry," you tell your new friend. "But I have to."
"I know." She shakes her head, biting her lip as she tries to force a smile. "It'll be better for you to get back to him anyway. You should be together."
Roe has been even quieter than usual, the letter had reported. Spina keeps trying to give Doc some free time so that he can come see you, but it seems like everything is so hectic as we get ready to leave.
Easy will be leaving soon. For where, you're not sure. All you know is that you need to get out of the hospital and back to them -- back to the man that you had only just discovered was your soulmate before you were taken away.
Because if you're not reunited now, then when? You have heard of soldiers who never make it back to their original companies, instead being used as replacements to fill the spaces in others, like putty patching a leak on a roof. Even though you and Eugene Roe have been in the same company since Toccoa, you know hardly anything about him. If the war ended now and you were sent home . . . how would you ever find him again?
Which brings on a nerve-racking thought: just because you're soulmates doesn't mean that you have to be together -- many people have rejected the person who would be perfect for them to be with someone else. Just because you reunite with Eugene doesn't mean that things will work out for the better.
Things will work out for us, you assure yourself. Paper crinkles in your hands as you ball them into determined fists. "I have to," you repeat.
Alice nods. From across the aisle, she reaches out a slender hand and squeezes yours when you take it. Her green eyes look intently into your (Y/E/C) ones as she offers you a smile. "I'll miss you, (Y/N). You've been a real pal." She peers behind you, watching the nurse to make sure that she's not listening. "You go now, and I'll make sure the nurse stays distracted."
"Thanks, Alice."
"Go enjoy the colors with your soulmate," Alice says.
Before the nurse can notice, you shove Luz's letter into your bag, sling it over your shoulder, and head out the door, heart thrumming in your chest. The D-Day jump was less frightening than jumping into this unknown, but you push forward anyway, ready for what comes next.
--
With everything that has happened to you lately, lucky would not necessarily be the word that you would use to describe yourself. Watching one of your best friends get his leg blown off, getting shot in the thigh, and discovering your soulmate only to be taken from him immediately? None of that really seems fair.
Later, you choose to think of it as a turn of fortune when you step out of the hospital and hear, "(Y/N)?"
Busted, you think before you realize that you don't recognize the voice. Turning slowly, your racing heart slams on the breaks when you see a Jeep a few feet away from you. A man is climbing out of it. It's impossible to miss the red cross that decorates the band on his arm.
"Gene?" You're so shocked that you let the name slip from your lips before you can stop yourself. Trying to pass the time while in the hospital, you spent countless hours thinking about your soulmate and imagining what might come next. Most people in Easy have always just called him Doc, but you slowly started to think of him as Eugene, and then just Gene, because it seemed to suit him so well. Does he even like being called that?
If the name bothers him, he doesn't let on. In a second he's thanked the driver -- his kindness, even in a moment like this, does not go unnoticed by you -- and is walking away from the Jeep and towards you.
He looks just as stunned as you feel. Your brain feels scattered as you rush to take in the situation, and him -- all the colors that you have learned to name run through your head as you try to place them with his features.
"They let you out?" He asks when he can finally form words again. "No one told me . . ."
You shake your head, still trying to make sense of it all. "No, I'm going AWOL. I --" You stop. How much should you bare your heart to this man, who is both a soulmate and a stranger? "-- I needed to get back to the company. And to you."
Something like relief passes across his face, the tension easing from his posture. "I was coming to find you. The company is about to move again and I wanted to make sure that you came with us."
As far as you know, Gene has never done something like this for any other soldier that has been taken from the company. Maybe he feels the same way that you do -- like maybe if you take a chance, this could lead to something wonderful.
"I can get us a ride back before they notice that you're gone," he offers.
"I would appreciate that very much." Inwardly, you wince at how formal you sound. Being casual around him seems so nice, but you don't know him well enough for that yet. "Thank you, for coming to find me."
He looks a little confused, one of his dark eyebrows raising. "Of course I came looking for you, (Y/N). We're soulmates."
"Well, when we get back to the company, maybe we should spend a little more time trying to get to know each other," you suggest, praying that he can't hear how hard your heart is beating at the simple suggestion.
His shy smile presses his lips upwards, his cheeks tinging pink. "Maybe now we can finally travel in the same circle."
"Shouldn't be hard. From what Luz has said in his letters, there's hardly anyone left."
Gene nods. "But we're getting one of our best back, so maybe now things will be a little better."
Oh! you think. He might be shy, but he knows how to be sweet in a way that makes your heart thrum. You can't hide your smile. His words make it all the more easy to ask what you've been hoping to for countless hours.
"Since we're getting to know each other," you say. "Is it okay if I call you Gene?"
Much like Alice had only moments before, he holds out a hand, his cold fingers intertwining with yours as he smiles, dark eyes lighting up with the action. "I would like that very much."
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clairifys · 4 months
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Band of Brothers Masterlist!
Ronald Speirs:
Bastogne - Being in Bastogne was a tiring and hard time for Easy Company. Luckily for (Y/n), a certain hazel-eyed man makes things a little better for her
Dick Winters:
My love for you - In which a (h/c) haired woman has to do surgery on Easy Company's captain and they end up falling deeper in love for each other
Joseph Liebgott:
Prolonged love - Sometimes the best things in life take a long time, and sometimes life throws you for a loop. It sure threw (Y/n) for a loop when grabbing German POWs in Hagenau turns into her having to babysit a young Dutch girl
Eugene Roe
David Webster
Edward ‘Babe’ Heffron
Joe Toye
Darrell ‘Shifty’ Powers
Donald Malarkey
will add more if recommended and if i’ll be able to correctly write for them!
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redheadspark · 2 years
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I was wondering if I could request either a small fic or even headcanon of Druig or Clío, Melody gets sick for the first time as a baby and one of them is kinda freaking out about it but the other is like “its fine honey, just a small head cold.” I would really like to see this with Drío please! 🥰💗
A/N: AWWWW This is beyond cute and perfect! Thank you SO much for requesting this, my dear!
Worry
Summary: Who knew the stoic and always cool mind controller would loose his mind when his infant daughter gets sick. Clío did of course.
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*This is a cute picture of actor Barry Keoghan (who plays Druig) with his son Brando, I HAD to use this since it looked perfect as an image of Druig and baby Melody.*
Warnings: Angst and fluff rolled into one.
Part of the Melody Series
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Druig never thought he would be worried.
No, petrified was a better word.
It started with sniffles and a few coughs here and there, Druig noticing it when he held her first thing in the morning. She would usually be happy to be held by her father, opening her crystal blue eyes at him and having a sense of peace on her infant face. Druig loved seeing her eyes on him the first thing in the morning, it made his day already ten times better.
But on this morning, he could see she wasn't herself. The fussiness was evident, not finding the perfect way to hold her to calm her down from the sniffles and tears as she wiggled in his hold. He saw it in her face too, contorted in uncomfortableness and uneasiness. Melody was always an easy and happy little baby, so seeing her in such a state made Druig feel petrified.
His daughter was sick, and he had no idea what to do.
"I got ya, baby girl. I got ya," Druid hummed over and over, walking back and forth along the living room floor with his daughter fussing in his arms and crying with a whimper on her lips. Clío was on the phone with the doctor, it was better to call ahead than to drive into town which seemed so far away. Druig was focusing on trying to ease his little girl, who was red in the face and wiggling so bad in his hold he was afraid he would drop her. He felt as though he was being tortured from the inside out since he didn't know what to do or how to help her. She had no temperature, they checked already when she started to fuss. But she did sound congested from how she was breathing, making Druig panic not know what to give her.
When he was back in the jungle with Clío, there were healers that were present to help anyone and everyone who got sick. Neyli, the head healer of the village for about 40 years, knew just how to ease any fevers or colds that came upon the young and old. Druig never having to lift a finger to help since she knew anything and everything when it came to natural medicine. But those were natural remedies from herbs and roots, nothing too modern unless it was intense to extreme.
Now he was here, out in the middle of nowhere, and it was his daughter who was ill.
His infant daughter.
"I know, baby. I'm so sorry, Mel. It's gonna be okay," Druig hummed to her over and over like a mantra as she was letting out a new sniffles and sneezes against his chest. He felt useless, only being able to hold her to give her some kind of comfort. She was far too young for him to do some kind of mind control, and he swore he would never do that to his child in the first place. Maybe he could cal Thena, she might know something that could help since Thena and Gilgamesh fended for themselves for some time out in rural Australia. Or maybe Sersi, she might know a thing or two about healing children since she was good with them.
If only Ajak was alive and there to help...
"Alright, I just got off the phone with Dr. Morris," Clío glided into the room over to Druig and Melody, Druig shooting his eyes to her in panic as she gave him reassuring smile and placed her hand under Melody's head and the other along his arm, "I told him what's going on with Mel and he thinks it's a head cold."
"What in the hell is a head cold?" Druig asked in worry and in a panicked tone.
"It's very common, Druig. Especially this time of year since the weather is getting colder," Clío calmly replied to him, looking down at their fussing daughter who had fat tears in her eyes, "He's going to get some antibiotics together and come here to the house within an hour,"
"An hour?!" Druig seethed, his eyes almost bulging out in shock. Clío moved instantly, framing his face in her hands to have him focus on her and her bright eyes.
"He's coming with the medicine, sweetheart," Clío reassured him soothingly, "All we can do is wait, okay? But you need to take a breath before you work yourself up. Come on and breathe for me, babe,"
Druig paused and took in a forced breath, trying to calm himself down since he was still holding his daughter within his arms. Clío kept her stare at him, taking a long breath to almost show him how to breathe. Druig tried again, this time it was a bit better and calmer as he tried to re-center himself. All he could think about was panic, panic of not knowing if this head cold was serious or mild. Panic of waiting a full hour for the doctor to come with the medicine.
Panic over his little daughter, the light of his world.
"You good?" Clío asked, seeing how Druig's shoulders were a bit relaxed and his eyes were no longer rigid. He nodded his had slowly as he looked from his wife down to Melody. She was a bit calmer too, looking between her mother and father and the fussing was dying down a bit. Almost like she was mirror what her father was doing. Druig sighed, pulling her up to kiss her head over and over and keep her close.
"You need to be calm for her, Druig," Clío reminded him as she rubbed Melody's back and rang her other hand in Druig's hair, "I know you're scared, I am too. But honey, she's going to be okay. I know she will be, but Melody needs you to be calm for her so she can feel better,"
Druig could do that, he could be calm for the sake of his child. Melody was everything to him, nothing else mattered to him than the baby he was holding close and his wife who bore the same baby. Those two were his world, and when one was in pain, he was in pain. Anything he could do for either one of them to ease their worries or pain, he would do in an instant. So if he had to be calm, if he had to hold her close for the next hour while they waited for the doctor to arrive, he would do it.
He would do anything for his daughter.
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"Thank you again for coming out and for the medicine, Dr. Morris,"
"Anytime! Give the antibiotics a day or two to kick in and she'll be good as new before you know it. Just give her lots of rest and let me know how she takes to the medicine. I'll call in the morning, take care!"
Clío waved as the trucked rolled away down the paved road, Dr. Morris waving his hand out the window as he went back towards the main highway. The cool air that was signaling the evening picked up. Clío sighed in relief, feeling a bit better was she walked back into the house over to the study where she knew she left Druig and Melody.
The doctor arrived within the hour, coming a bit earlier than expected with a big bag with medicine and antibiotics for his sick patient. Druig was still holding Melody, almost protectively until he had to release her over to Dr. Morris, watching with worried eyes as the doctor examined his daughter. Clío was still cool and calm, holding Druig's hand in a sense of comfort as the prognosis was in fact a common Head Cold.
Dr. Morris too was calm, even laughing as Melody sneezed and scrunched her nose at him as he gave Melody the medicine along with the antibiotics while he checked her temperature. Druig felt a wave of relief off his shoulders, hearing it from the doctor himself that Melody was going to be okay. Perhaps he too overreact a bit, hearing that plenty of babies would be sick and get over it within a day or two with the amount of rest and medicine.
Clío poked her head into the study, seeing none other than Melody and Druig. Both fast asleep with Druig leaned back against the loveseat he was in and Melody in his hold, no longer fussing or crying but at peace. She was snoring even, which showed Clío she was in a deep sleep finally for the first time all day. There was peace along Druig's face too, his hair disheveled and the bag under his eyes were evident enough to show all he went through.
But all Clío could think about was the immense love her husband had for their daughter, for the little light of his world, that he would do anything and be anything to bring her happiness and safety. She never saw him scared to that caliber before, and it showed in his love for her and how he wished to take those woes away.
She took a picture on her phone of her husband and daughter asleep, sending it to the group chat and getting some responses moments later:
Phastos: Damn, someone had a rough night.
Clío: We got a sick little one on our hands, and a worried daddy too :)
Sersi: Oh no! Is Melody alright?
Makkari: What happened?!
Thena: How sick is Mel, Clío?
Clío: It's just a head cold, guys. She's okay now. The doctor gave her medicine and she'll be well before we know it. Her dad, however, is another story.
Kingo: Druig looks like hell.
Sprite: Way to be supportive, Kingo!
Kingo: I state the truth!
Sersi: I think he looks like a worried father. How is Druig holding up?
Clío paused from her texting, seeing Druig hum with a small smile on his face and a look of peace there etched along the smile. Such a small scare would bring the mind controller to his knees, to have him feel useless in caring for such a little one. But now that fear was gone, that worry dissolved in the air and all that was left was peace again. Clío grinned widely.
Clío: He's got his little girl safe and sound now. He'll be alright.
The End.
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Tagged: @heartofwritiing @a-lumos-in-the-nox @botanicalbarnes @basicrese
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verstarppen · 2 months
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summary; there's little time between fast cars and spaceships, but you make it work
pairing; lando norris x fem! star wars actress! reader [ no faceclaim ]
a/n; if i see ONE more "but at what cost" comment i will explode you with my mind
[ series masterlist ]
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, kellypiquet and 100,004 others
yn.jpg life recently
view all 90,541 comments
kingmag9 I scrolled so fast I legit thought this is a lando.jpg post
darthjadusdefender are the rumours true, then?
princepercival please respect their privacy and leave the conversation out of her comment section
shae_vizla_2 So no KOTOR movie set pics? :(
vettelover no lando either...
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liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, martingarrix and 875,995 others
landonorris it’s race weekend time 🖤🧡
view all 547,004 comments
angelricciardo oscar: 🧍‍♂️
sugarussell pr team working overtime
cherryhamilton Oscar is an unpaid employee actually
astongoatin day 4785 since our last y/n photo on this account
inchidentlover Where's Waldo modern reboot
dannyavocado so close! your wife is actually missing ♡ please find her
codelh44 everyone else moved on, i stayed with the fact that they took out the -l/n -norris off their twitter names
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liked by mclaren, davidcorenswet, oscarpiastri and 925,221 others
yndeathtrooper the only spa weekend that matters
view all 256,540 comments
sunnysainz now why is the only photo of lando with his back to the camera...
tyrescreamer divorce babe DIVORCE
holidaykimi OSCAR LOOKS SO GOOD
alfajuliet i threw my phone across the room i can't take it anymore
generalkenobi3 so no kotor? at all??
papayasalad did you yell "OBJECTION" at least once during the carlos slander i need to know
carlossainz55 ... yndeathtrooper obviously
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liked by danielricciardo, oscarpiastri, yndeathtrooper and 2,014,808 others
landonorris as dom toretto said
view all 60,141 comments
yukinator22 oh we're COOKED y'all
albogeant your guys' shoulders must be aching from reaching that far, clearly she's taking the photo
simplyclerc THAT'S WHAT IM SAYINGGGG SHE EVEN LIKED THE POST mcmango ok but why wouldn't she be in the picture like????
super_max A GOOD CAPTAIN FALLS WITH THE SHIP
shadownorris oh okay im just gonna go play my mitski daily mix for the fourth time in a roll that's fine
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liked by alex_albon, davidcorenswet, kellypiquet and 148,007 others
yn.jpg goodbye belgium you'll always be famous
view all 60,141 comments
kellypiquet Girls Night 😊
yn.jpg YEAHHHHH
bottaswiththefur aaa the outfit matching the luggage is so cute
lionkingseb lando search party
rock4rrari max???
g3org3zilla i read this in the tone of the seagulls from nemo
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pic credits: pinterest and instagram
taglist: @justdreamersdream @cha-hot @dl-yum @minkyungseokie @allywthsr @eugene-emt-roe @soleilgrec @raevyng @baw-sixteen @palomaxaxaxa @cassiopeiia24 @callsignwidow @sheridamn @kissesandmartinis @gods-menace @iifloweringnightsii @fanboyluvr @idkiwantchocolatee @flyclaren @cixrosie @lanando4 @lichterfee @yagirlhayes @blueberry64857959
@thatoneembarrasingmoment @celestialams @inloveallthetime @danielricswife @youdontknowmeshh @arian-directioner @cherry-piee @queen-of-elves @skepvids @woozarts @spaghetittied @1655clean @spidersophie @evie-119 @jggykhug09090 @nataliambc @ems-alexandra @mehrmonga @sanctify-mp3 @eulris @wtfisakilometer2 @aexitizen-ln4 @gulabjamoon @ilymoonie @localwhoore @lavenderhazeeworld @redbullphantasmagoria @onecojg @cixrosie @hiireadstuff @ririyulife @rockstargfism @awritingtree (why are there so many of you people how did you find me)
1K notes · View notes
caesium-55 · 1 month
Text
—seven days [ epilogue ]
pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader
summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.
warnings: mentions of death and suicide.
author's note: here's the epilogue and the end end of the seven days series. thank you everyone for showing love to this fic! i was honestly so overwhelmed by the sheer amount of all of you. also, i apologize for all the broken hearts i caused after posting chapters 4-7. stay safe yall! i'll rest my fingers for real now. my doctor wasn't very happy with me. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED.
tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal @landorris @onecojg @leclercdream @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @spookystitchery @0710khj @strollnstroll @justab-eautifulmess @ssrcsm @seasonswinter @kravitzwhore @mycure156 i hope i didn't forget anyone
masterlist.
Julio [Name] was not an ambitious person. He didn't have dreams or concrete plans in life. But in 1985, his first dream was born. He wanted to be an F1 racer after reading about the Portuguese Grand Prix in a local newspaper where he saw a Brazilian racer even younger than him participate in it and winning it. Ayrton Senna was the racer’s name, twenty-five years old. At that time, Julio [Name] was the same age.
He immediately searched for the nearest karting track. He brought his then girlfriend, Sally Kingston, a dental student in USC, to the kart zone for their date. It was safe to say that driving was not exactly his forte. He crashed his rental kart and had to pay the damages. He was afraid that he made himself a loser in front of the Sally Kingston, the richest, prettiest, and nicest girl from L.A., and that she wouldn't wanna go out with a bumpkin like him anymore, but she had only laughed at him—her eyes turning into little crescents, showing too much teeth and gums—and from then and there, he knows he’s going to marry Sally Kingston one day. He might not have become a F1 driver, but he ended up marrying the girl of his dreams.
Him and Sally welcomed a son in 1991. They named him Damiano and he turned out to be a carbon copy of his beloved wife, not that Julio was complaining. When Damiano turned five, Julio brought him in the kart zone and let him try driving the kart. Damiano adored it so Julio signed him up for racing school. Three weekends later, Damiano got sick of driving around in circles so he stopped. Sally gave birth to a daughter in the same year—1996.
Five years later, he brings [Name], his mija, into the kart zone. He expected that you’ll be like Damiano, too, getting sick of the thing after three weekends or so. You didn't. You loved karting and going fast, almost dangerously so. You lasted five weekends so Julio signed you up for the kart zone’s junior racing school and you were their first female member. You won your first race when you were six, only seven months after you officially joined.
“She was born to race,” the team head told Julio. Julio then decided that he’d do whatever it takes so you could become a F1 driver.
Like his initial dream, his dream for you couldn't be brought to reality. When you were nine, you had to stop karting for financial reasons. Damiano was in high school, Rafael had leukemia, and Dominic had just been born. When Julio told you the news, you were sad but you understood why the decision was made so you never complained. You learned how to play billiards instead and your Abuelo was the one who taught you. It's cheaper than karting so Sally and Julio gave you their full support.
Julio [Name] was pleasantly surprised when you told him that you got accepted in USC’s engineering department years later. He half expected that you’d be like Damiano, who took an interest in dentistry, and was attending dental school. He was going to be a dentist like his mother. He was a perfect copy of Sally.
“If I can't be a racer, I’ll become a mechanical engineer,” you declared, head held high. Julio couldn't be anymore proud. You were living his dream.
If you asked Julio [Name] if he had lived a happy life despite not reaching his dreams, he would say yes without hesitation. He married the love of his life, Sally Kingston, now Sally [Last Name]. His first son, Damiano, had topped dental school and followed in his mother’s footsteps. His daughter, [Name], graduated with flying colors, a mechanical engineering degree under her belt and entered the motorsports industry, the first in the family to do so. (You even got him Fernando Alonso’s autograph! That's his second favorite driver!) Not only that, she volunteered at the LAFD during her college years and competed in a billiards tournament in Vegas, Australia, and the UK. You had the potential to be an international-level pool player but you didn't pursue the sport because you wanted to be an engineer. Rafael didn't let leukemia beat him and now, he’s finishing up his last year in CalTech, pursuing mechanical engineering like his older sister. A research team in Sweden had been eyeing him for a while now. Dominic, on the other hand, is steadily building a career for himself in volleyball. He was offered a sports scholarship in Harvard so, despite the fact that he’s going even farther than his siblings with no relatives near him like in L.A., Julio pushed him to pursue what he wanted. His children are his pride and joy. He spent every single day bragging about his children to his colleagues. The others had expressed their envy to him. Did Julio save a country in his last life to have such great children?
Furthermore, he’d been promoted to be the captain of Station 131 in Austin. Julio may not have driven an F1 car but he wouldn't even trade this family over anything in this world, not even the life of luxury and thrill of a Formula One Driver.
(What Julio didn't know was that Damiano had serious depression in dental school that he carried even after graduating, that you weren't accepted as an engineer in F1 and was stuck in a managerial position for the last five years, that Sweden found a better researcher than Rafael so he’s stuck suffering physically and mentally in a degree with his future unclear and cloudy, and Dominic was slowly losing passion in volleyball but it's the only thing putting him through college right now so he grits his teeth and put himself on court. No one told Julio. Julio got enough of his dreams broken already.)
Truthfully, despite working for Red Bull for half a decade, you never liked its taste. You were always the Monster Energy type of girl. It's the one drink that kept you functioning through all the all-nighters you pulled in engineering school. However, you kind of lost the palate for Monster Energy so now, here you are, standing outside a gas station mini mart in the middle of the dusty highway that leads to El Paso. You hold the chilled can of Red Bull against the side of your neck, satisfied with the feeling of something cool pressing against your skin. The temperature in Texas is going absolutely crazy this time of the year. In your other hand, two cigarette sticks balance in between your fingers. You crave the deadly nicotine. Desperately. But you're not stupid enough to smoke at a gas station because of your cravings.
Your phone vibrates and you pull it out of your pocket to see who messaged you. You snicker when you view the barrage of pictures from the Austin Grand Prix that Leo sent. A stolen shot of Logan, meme faces of Alex, the air show, a selfie with THE Fernando Alonso, and a Tiktok video with the other Williams mechanics.
You watched the race from the stands today and truthfully, you prefer watching the race in the garage than on the stands. It's unbelievably boring to be there. People pay thousands of dollars to sit under the excruciating heat of the sun and catch a glimpse of very fast cars for a nanosecond. You wouldn't even catch sight of if you blink. Nevertheless, you're happy that Leo is having the time of his life. You wish you share the same shoes.
leo: so so sad that u have to go
you: id be flattered if u actually mean it
leo: *rolling eyes emoji*
leo: i hope you choke on your beer
you: i hope you choke on the celebratory champagne
you: and i dont drink and drive
leo: good to know ur not stupid
leo: on a serious note make sure to drive to el paso safely
you: aight aight
leo: u know i have something to confess
you: if it's something stupid, don't bother
leo: ur stupid
you: fuck u
leo: shut up
leo: just wanna say i didn't break up with u bc u gave max too much attention
leo: i know that's what i said but i only said that bc i knew that u needed max to achieve ur dreams
leo: and idk i just thought max wouldn't give it to u not when im still dating u
you: that's stupid
you: max isn't like that
leo: hes in love with u
Your heart stutters. You ignore it.
you: liar
leo: i could tell u lil shit
leo: idk he looked like someone who’d hold a grudge
you: he does hold grudges
leo: and i cant allow myself to stand in between you and the one person who can give you your dream you know?
leo: i loved you enough to let you go to him
You choke on your saliva. You don't love Leo romantically anymore and you are sure that the feelings are mutual but his abrupt confession is enough to bring back the pain of loving him and letting him go all over again.
leo: u sure u won’t stay to see him?
leo: he’s the one who wants to see you the most
you: his ig messages makes me think otherwise
You're a fucking coward. A pussy.
leo: you didn't see the man [name]
leo: you don't know how empty he looks now
A shadow of guilt darkens your eyes. You quickly shove your phone into the pocket of your jacket. You open the Red Bull and take a large swig, almost draining the entire can. You exhale loudly after drinking, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You stare at the vast expanse of the dry earth before you, starting to understand the appeal of aimless road trips in the southern roads.
The world seems to be turning in slow motion now.
Ever since your father died, time feels like it was moving too fast. You arrived at the hospital half an hour after Julio was officially pronounced dead. At that time, you felt like the world was ending. Your knees gave out in the middle of the hospital hallway. Your mother’s wail echoed in your ears. Damiano and Dominic were trying to console her, both of whom were crying terribly. You stare at them, face empty despite the hurricane brewing within you. Rafael wrapped his arms around you and you held onto him as he cried uncontrollably.
Your mother possessed a weak heart. She’d grown weaker and weaker day by day after your father passed. Your father’s station held a ceremony for him to pay tribute to their fallen captain. You were the one who carried his helmet all throughout the ceremony because the entire station knew you were his most prized child. When you flipped the helmet, there was a photo taped on it. A photo of the entire family at your graduation ceremony in USC. You maintained that tired and empty stare during the entire procession. In the middle of the ceremony, your mother collapsed.
Your father’s death was the first domino to be tipped. Your mother’s collapse during the funeral was the second. From then on, everything turned to shit. Your mother had always been frail and prone to sickness so it didn’t surprise you when she had grown so weak in a matter of days. She couldn't sleep. She didn't want to eat. She lost her will to do anything else. You took her to the hospital after a week because you were afraid she was beginning to become malnourished. Damiano suggested moving your mother to El Paso, to your Abuelo and Abuela’s farm, so your mother could recuperate there, and you agreed. The entire family moved to El Paso quickly, leaving the house in Vista Del Pueblo empty and celebrated the New Year there.
You opened your phone for the first time since you landed in ATX on the 30th and a barrage of messages had been sent to you. From Daniel, Logan, Leo, Kendall, Julia. You freeze when you see Max’s name. Your finger hovers above it, hesitating. Your mind trailed back to the five years you spent in Red Bull, to all the memories with Max in it, to what happened inside his penthouse in Monaco, the jet, the night you spent in his sheets, the shoes and—
Fuck.
“Kelly,” you mumbled to yourself, typing her username in the search box. You began typing up a message. You're not mentally equipped to write a long message of apology. Your mental dictionary was not ready to use so you decided to half ass the entire message and hope for the best.
you: sorry about the breakup
you: i didn't know about the shoes
you: i didn't take it
you: im so sorry
you: i hope you're not too hurt
In truth, you loved Kelly for Max. You never had problems with her. At first, you were concerned about the great age gap between her and Max as she was even older than Danny but then you figured that you did not have a say because Leo was also younger than you, born in the same year as Max. Then, you saw how she was so caring to Max, so patient in dealing with his misplaced anger, so supportive. You saw how Max transformed into a better version of himself, something you are not even capable of doing, because of Penelope and Kelly. How he became the world's most massive girl dad without trying. You ignored every bitter feeling that sprouted on your chest because you saw Max was happy and his happiness always came first. And now, you’re here, apologizing to Kelly for taking Max away from her.
kelly: i think i’m the one who’s been taking him from you
kelly: take care of him for me
you: thank you for loving him
You can't imagine how hurt Kelly was. Imagine dating and preparing a man so he could be perfect for another girl.
you: but i can’t do what you're asking
you: not anymore
“Not anymore,” you whisper to yourself, as if uttering it to the wind would cement it as the truth.
Not anymore, Max. I’m sorry.
Rafael and Dominic told you that they want to drop out of college to help you out with Mama a few days after New Year’s. You quickly told them no, to finish college and that you could handle taking care of two senior citizens and your sickly mother and help out on the farm since you’re essentially jobless at the moment.
The third domino is Damiano. You were always aware he’d been clinically depressed, taking medications to help him get better. Whatever he went through in dental school, he carried it with him until he was working. You believed he was getting better. He was seeing a therapist for years now and you were checking up on him every day. Then, like Mama, he just…. became worse. Rafael found him submerged in the bathtub in his apartment, red painting his wrists. Had Rafael not been there at the right time, Damiano would have followed Papa Julio.
The fourth domino is Dominic. He ruined his hand in March. The doctor told him it was dangerous for him to continue playing volleyball competitively. It was either he learned how to set with only his non-dominant hand because his dominant hand is partially crippled or he stopped playing all together. He’d choose the second option with no hesitation as he had lost his passion for the sport but if he’s not playing for Harvard anymore, no one would be able to pay his fees until graduation. Not when Julio died, not when Sally was too sick to continue working, not when Damiano was currently unstable, not when you’re the only one who had been supporting the entire family through your entire savings account. Red Bull must have paid you a lot of money because you’ve been keeping the entire family afloat for months now.
The fifth domino is Rafael, who got his entire thesis overhauled so now, his graduation was out of the picture. It sucked. He’d always been expected to follow his older siblings’ footsteps, both of whom are academically excelling individuals and Rafael had been studying and studying and studying. So why was this happening to him? Why was this happening to his family?
The sixth domino was yet to be tipped over.
You refuse to fall.
You blink, suddenly back in reality when you hear a loud caw of a bird flying above your head. You shake your head, tossing the Red Bull in a nearby trash can and returning inside the mini mart. The amount of caffeine in a Red Bull isn’t enough. You need more. You need fucking coffee.
Gas station coffee sucks but you’re never the type who complains. El Paso is still eight hours away and you’re sure you're going to be driving your motorcycle the entire night just to reach the farm the next morning.
You walked towards the Yamaha XSR 155 parked in front of the mini-mart, a styro cup of coffee that’s as black as your soul and as bitter as your life in your hand. Hypnotizing swirls of steam rise from the cup. In each step you take, the key that is attached to your hip jingles.
It's a little past four in the afternoon but the darkness of the sky makes you think it's around six PM. You pocket your cigarettes and stand beside your motorcycle, hand on your hip while the other brings the cup of coffee to your mouth. A car suddenly arrives, coming to a screeching halt in front of you. You flinch in surprise, almost spilling your coffee in your hands. You hiss loudly, brows furrowing, a curse sitting on the tip of your tongue. You hear the sound of a car door opening and slamming shut and when you look up—
“Max.”
He’s still in his Red Bull overalls, drenched in sweat as if he ran to the gas station instead of driving. His hair is windswept, sticking out in multiple directions almost attractively so. He looks simultaneously distraught and relieved when your eyes met. The longing in his eyes. God. You unconsciously take a step back and turn around—a flight response—when he charges in your direction.
A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, stopping you from your tracks and causing your coffee to spill and fall down pathetically on the floor. You avoided the puddle, hands reaching behind you to guide Max away from the steaming liquid. But it’s too late. You saw the hot coffee touch his skin.
“Max!” you exclaim, eyes going wide. Your hand wraps around his forearm, pulling it but his grip on you tightens so you resort to tapping his arm in hopes that he’ll let go and you can inspect his injured hand and make a quick run for the mini mart for first-aid supplies.
“Max, let go,” you say, panicking. “Your hand—”
“Don’t leave,” his voice cracks.
“I won't go, okay? Let go and I’ll—”
“No,” the hug tightens and you suck in a breath. “You’ll leave again. I know you’ll leave again.”
“I’ll fix your hand. You can’t burn your hand—”
“I can endure it. Let me have this please,” he pleads. You pull his hand but Max remains stubborn. Resigned, you sigh. It turns out that you’re still the same, giving whatever Max wanted.
“I’m sorry for getting angry,” he begins. “I’m sorry for stopping you from going to Renault. I’m sorry for promising that I’d talk to Christian. I’m sorry that I didn't. I’m sorry that you had to break up with Leo because of me. I’m sorry that I realized that I fell in love with you while dating Kelly. I’m sorry for the shoes. I’m sorry for getting drunk. I’m sorry for being so selfish. I’m sorry for not considering you. I’m sorry for loving you. I’m so, so sorry, [Name]. For everything.”
His words come rapidly and frankly, you don't want to hear Max like this. Max rarely apologizes. You're not used to hearing him apologize.
“Max—”
“I called, [Name].”
You freeze.
“I called so many times. Not once have you answered. Not once—” a loud sob erupts from his mouth, interrupting him. “You always come when I call.”
You close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath.
“I sent you a message,” he continues. “To wait for me. I know I’m selfish but can I have five minutes please? Just….five?”
A pause.
“Okay,” you whisper. Max’s body trembles against yours and you stand still for a few minutes,
“Hey,” you say gently, suddenly reminded that you're standing in an open space and Max is still in his Red Bull overalls and he doesn't even have his usual cap on and this compromising situation you're both in was going to be bad for Max’s online reputation once the wrong pair of eyes manage to catch sight of you. You can already imagine what the headlines would be.
MAX VERSTAPPEN AND HIS FORMER MANAGER CAUGHT HUGGING IN A GASOLINE STATION AFTER AUSTIN GP.
MAX VERSTAPPEN AND FORMER RED BULL MANAGER IN A RELATIONSHIP?
FORMER RED BULL MANAGER POTENTIAL REASON FOR BREAKUP BETWEEN KELLY PIQUET AND MAX VERSTAPPEN?
MAX VERSTAPPEN CHEATED ON KELLY PIQUET WITH FORMER MANAGER?
MAX VERSTAPPEN, FULL-TIME WORLD TIME CHAMPION, PART-TIME CHEATING ASSHOLE.
God. You can already imagine the headache splitting the entire PR team’s skulls. The world already hates Max because of how good he was at his sport. You can’t allow people to shit on him more because of you.
“Max,” you try again, tapping his forearm so he can loosen his hold on you and you can turn around. “Max, baby, cooperate with me for a bit, yeah?”
You tug on his wrist and you can't help but sigh in relief when his arms loosen a little. He’s beginning to choke you a little bit. With his arms still around you, you pivot on your heels so you’re face-to-face with his broad chest.
When you look up to Max’s face, your heart shatters into a million pieces. His tears continue to flow and violent sobs wrack his entire body, robbing him of the ability to speak and barely allowing a breath to be drawn. He’s going to hyperventilate. Fucking dammit.
“Max,” how many times have you said his name in the last few minutes? “Hey, breathe with me.”
Your hand cradles his jaw and your eyes focused on his blue ones and fuck, they’re as insanely beautiful as you remembered.
“Breathe.”
You perform exaggerated inhales and exhales so Max can match your breaths, his hands settling on your shoulders. His palms feel heavy against your shoulders and his fingers dig deep into your skin.
“I’m here, Champ. I’m here,” you assure him. “I’m here now.”
You wait until he calms down a little and when he does, your right hand searches for his, intertwining your fingers together to assure him that you’re not going anywhere just yet. Your other hand comes up to hold the area below his neck and you slowly guide him back to his car. It’s a little difficult, Max obviously has no intention to let you go, but you know how to make things work.
Max sits on the driver's seat with you standing outside of the car. He's still clinging onto your hand and you use the other hand to hold the roof of the car for support. Max stopped crying now, staring blankly at you with a sad pout on his face. His tears are now dry, staining his cheeks.
“You okay now, Champ?” you ask, never failing to sound gentle. That's what Max needs now. Gentleness. God forbid you pull a Jos Verstappen.
Max shakes his hand, making you sigh deeply. Your eyes trail to the hands, the pale skin now an angry red.
“Max,” you call his attention. He looks up at you and you have to avoid his gaze because if you look at his face, your heart hurts. “I’ll get something from the mini-mart for your burn, aight?”
He shakes his head and his grip on your hand impossibly tightens. If he keeps this up, he’s going to break your bones.
“No.”
If you were the same person that you were in 2023, you would have let Max do what he wanted. What Max wanted, what Max shall get—that’s the philosophy you lived by. But things are different now. Leo told you that you’re allowing Max to take too much from you and Max needs to learn to actually listen to you.
You’ve been taught to treat even the most minor of burns as if it’s a major burn. That's what you are planning to do right now.
“Max,” you say, a little firmer now. “Gonna grab somethin’ in the mart real quick, you stay here, aight?”
“No—”
“Not askin’, Champ,” you interrupt him. “I'm not leavin’ yet, not goin’ anywhere until I make sure you’re okay. So stay here and wait.”
You swiftly remove the key attached to your belt and force it into his palm, “Here are my keys. I’m not goin’ to drive off and leave you here, aight? Do you trust me?”
You have a feeling that this anxiety of his might have stemmed from that one incident in his childhood where Jos left him at a gas station. Fucking son of a bitch that man was.
Hesitantly, Max says, “I do.”
“Good,” you ruffle his hair, dampening your palm.
You can see he does not like what you're doing now but he does not have any choice so he sits in the car, looking as pitiful as ever. You jog up to the mini-mart, immediately going to the beverage section to grab a bottle of water and passing by the hygiene shelf to snatch a handkerchief. You go to the counter and the middle aged guy manning the register obviously does not look impressed that you’re in his shop for the third time in the same hour, which is stupid because he should be glad that he has a customer. You put everything on the counter, pulling out some bills from your back pocket.
“You happen to have neosporin?” you ask.
“Do we look like a drug store?” he retorts. You roll your eyes, toss the bills to the cashier, and grab your items without even waiting for the guy to wrap them all up in a paper bag. You jog back to Max’s car.
“Excuse me,” you lean inside the car, opening the compartment to search for a burn cream you left inside there last year. Your eyes land on his keys, stiffening when you notice that Max kept every single gift you gave him. The bead keychain from 2020, the bottle opener keychain from 2021, the clay figure keychain from 2022, and the bracelet from 2023 sway slightly, staring back at you. You shake your head and resume doing your original mission. You find the burn cream and you immediately search for the expiration date. January 2025; it’s still good to use.
You straighten, take hold of Max’s wrist gently, and roll up his long sleeves up to his elbows. You open the water bottle and tug Max’s hand towards you so he won't get water on his car as you pour water on his burn. Once the bottle is nearly empty, you apply the cream on the reddened area of his skin. Then, you use the handkerchief, which you dampen using the leftover water, to dress it.
Max is silent the entire ordeal, watching you work your way meticulously and carefully around his hand. The same meticulousness one can expect from a former firefighter paramedic volunteer.
You step back to inspect your work, but Max’s hand stretches out towards you, grabbing the hem of your jacket.
“Sorry,” he says and yet you see his knuckles slowly turning white, which makes you unsure if he truly is apologetic or not. “Just…yeah, sorry. Can you stay for a while please?”
“Have to leave soon,” you say. “El Paso’s still hours away. I have to be there by morning.”
He nods, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, “Okay.”
“Thirty minutes, Max,” you decide. “Thirty minutes.”
You pull out your phone from your pocket to check the time and see the multiple notification bars. You type the password and direct to the message app to see the flurry of messages Max sent earlier. You have not noticed them.
max: i heard you came
max: where are you
max: please
max: can you give me ten minutes
max: just
max: please
max: wait for me
max: i’m not angry anymore
max: im begging you
max: or five minutes [name] im okay with just five
max: or even less
max: i just need to see you
“Who told you I was here?” you question, brows knitting together. There are currently two names in your head. They both start with the letter L and they both work at Williams.
“Leo called me and told me you were here.”
“Of course he did,” you roll your eyes. Logan will never dare betray you like this. You made Leo promise not to tell Max where you were in El Paso and the bitch told him where you were the moment you stepped out of El Paso. He didn't break his promise technically, but it's still a very bitch move for him to pull. You're going to have a lengthy conversation with him later.
“So you’ve been in El Paso?” he asks.
You nod.
“My grandparents’ place.”
He nods.
“Sorry about Julio, by the way.”
You sigh. God, you want to cry.
It's truly unfair how God decided to take away Julio [Last Name]. Death should happen to assholes and shitty people. To people who abuse their children every day. To people who waste years of their lifespan on nicotine and alcohol. To people who kill people. Death shouldn't happen to heroes, who risk every single day of their lives to save other people. Death shouldn't happen to Julio [Last Name], a firefighter who died saving a kid in a burning building. At least, not this early. Not until you fulfilled his dream for him.
(His last words: I don't regret doing what I did. I have kids, too. I want someone to save them the same way I did that kid if they ever get stuck in a situation like this.)
“Did Leo tell you that, too?” you hope that he didn't notice that your voice slightly wobbled.
“No,” Max shakes his head. “We—Logan and I came to Vista Del Pueblo in December. Your neighbor told us that…”
He doesn't need to finish his sentence for you to know what he’s trying to say.
You nod, “So that's why there was an article that day…”
You remember Damiano showing you the news article in his phone—AN UNLIKELY FRIENDSHIP: MAX VERSTAPPEN OF RED BULL RACING AND LOGAN SARGEANT OF WILLIAMS RACING SPOTTED DRIVING AROUND AUSTIN. You shrugged it off at that time.
“How are you?”
You turn to Max, raising a brow at his question.
“How am I?” you echo, sounding a little bewildered.
You see, Max has never asked this question. You're used to “Are you okay?” but not this. Not this question. You can easily lie to an are-you-okay. You can say yes even if you’re not, and you won't give yourself away because you only uttered one word. But with how-are-you, it’s different. It's not a question that is not answerable by yes or no. You actually have to explain how you feel. That's why Papa Julio only asked, “How are you, mija?” rather than “Are you okay, mija?” Papa Julio wants to know how your day went even if you're okay or not.
Yeah. You're definitely going to cry at this rate.
“How have you been after Julio?”
“You really wanna know?”
“I wanted to be there for you at that time,” Max confesses. “When I learned that Julio was gone, I wanted to go to you. But Leo stopped me. He said I was not what you needed at that time and I agree. I was too angry at you for leaving me. I’m glad he didn't tell me where you are, despite how painful it was. I was selfish and immature that I cared about my grief and forgot to consider yours. I reflected on my actions a lot. I am not sure how different I am now from that version of me but I think I changed a bit. So yes, [Name], I want to know, because I want to know how you felt and help you in any way I can.”
You stand there, stunned at what Max has said. And perhaps it was his sincerity or the way his determined blue eyes stare into your soul that caused the sixth domino to tip. You break into tears, a raw cry escaping your mouth. You are so fucking tired of carrying everything on your shoulders.
Max is quick to engulf you in a hug and you don't hesitate to pull him into you, pressing your face against his shoulders as you let everything out. You claw his back as if you're trying to mold himself into you. Your nose turns red, snot drips out of your nose. You sob too loud and too heavily that you can hardly draw a breath. You don't cry pretty and this is the first time you allowed yourself to cry with another person bearing witness to your fragility.
When you calmed down, you found yourself sitting beside Max, shoulder to shoulder, in the backseat of his car, playing with the drawstrings of your jacket.
“Sorry.”
“Don't be.”
“Sorry, I was just so tired,” you tip your head upwards. You can feel Max’s eyes on you. “Things have been hard since Papa died.”
“Do you want to talk? I’ll listen.”
You chuckle humorlessly.
Jesus, what did Leo feed this guy?
It feels like the roles are reversed now.
“Everybody's been takin’ it pretty hard so I'm trynna to be strong for them, you know? But I’m not that strong,” you begin. “I’m just as lost as everyone else and it's hard pretendin’ like I’m not. I’m not really sure what will happen with my life now so I wander around and do car repairs for a few folks in El Paso.”
“What happened to your dream? The job?”
“Well, it's gone,” you say, making Max’s eyes widen. “Not my time yet, I suppose. Or rather, I’m never supposed to have time. I guess I’m just not meant to be an engineer.”
“No,” Max turns to you, clasping your hands in desperation. “No, no, no. You always wanted to become an engineer. You can't just—I’ll think of something. I’ll ask Christian. I’ll ask the other teams. Renault isn't in Formula One right now but I can—”
“Max,” you smile sadly. “Let it go.”
“But—”
“Do you know what my Papa’s dream was?” you interrupt. “It’s to be a Formula One racer.”
You smile, remembering all the times you’ve seen your father watch the races on the television since you were younger. He’d wake up even in the ass crack of dawn just to watch them live. He’d be so tired after a 24-hour shift at the fire station but he’d refuse to even catch a wink of sleep until the Grand Prix broadcast is done. He always received a beating from your Mama because of it.
“He saw Senna in the newspaper and decided that he wanted to be like him, too. Sadly, Papa never vibed with a steering wheel so there was no future in that industry. He's always so disappointed in himself, sayin’ he can do the most unhinge shit at work but can't even drive a car. When Damiano and I turned five, he brought us karting. I could tell he was disappointed that Damiano didn't share his love for racing and I hated seein’ him sad so I learned to love karting. He signed me up and I did my best to win. I think I was good. Good enough to make him proud of me. Papa looked so happy when I won my first trophy. He cleaned it every week.”
You smile fondly at the memory.
“Then, shit happened and I have to stop. Papa looked even more disappointed than me that I had to stop. It hurts. Disappointment from your parents, I mean, even if I know that it's somethin’ beyond my control. I figured that if I can't be a racer, I’ll work in a pit stop. That's close enough. When I told him that I got accepted into USC and how I wanted to be an engineer, it was the proudest I have ever seen him since I won my trophy. I was livin’ his dream. I applied for Red Bull and Renault because those are Papa’s favorite teams and the rest is history.”
You pause.
“He’s never got to see me become an engineer,” you choke out, wiping the stray tear that fell from your eye with the back of your hand. “It was his dream. He always had his dreams broken and I was gonna reach his dreams for him but he’s gone before I can do so. Now, I’m so lost because I realized that I was shapin’ myself to become an extension of Papa and now that he's gone, I am an extension of no one. I was reaching for dreams that I don't own. I’m so tired and I’m so lost, Max.”
Max stares at you sadly.
“I should have talked to Christian sooner. Fuck, I hate myself for not talking to Christian. Fuck, why was I so selfish?” he presses the ball of his palms against his eyes in frustration. You chuckle, shaking your head.
“That’s okay,” you say. “I’ll find my way.”
You look at the scenery outside of the window. Night has fallen. You should have left for El Paso by now.
“I need to go,” you say, heart heavy.
“So soon?”
Max is panicking again.
“Jesus, Champ, calm down,” you pat his shoulders.
“Will I see you again?” Desperation laces his question.
“Dunno really,” you shrug.
“Can you wait for me?”
Your brows furrow.
“I’ll retire by 2028. No, that's still long. 2027. Ah no—2026? Can you wait for me? I—” Max’s hand trembles. “I love you. I love you, [Name]. I—I love you even before Kelly. I can’t. I can't lose you.”
The world stops.
“I am stupid, I am selfish, and I think I’m asking too much. If you can just wait for me, I’ll—I can even retire next year if you think it's too long—”
“Hold up right there, Champ,” you stop him. “You're not retirin’ early.”
“If you want me to, I will.”
You sigh in exasperation.
“Max,” your voice is low. “That’s your career. I’m not gonna—Jesus, Max don’t retire, okay? Not even for me. Retire only when you want to.”
This man is just…
You don't know if you want to choke him or kiss him.
“I want you to have me, [Name]. I… I want to be with you, to love you, and if retiring is the only way I can do that then I will,” he says. “I love you.”
You purse your lips.
“I love you, too, Max,” you confess and now, your chest feels lighter now that you've said it out loud. “But not now, I can't love you like this. I’m too… I can't pursue a relationship with you right now. Not when…”
“It's not our time,” Max nods. “I understand.”
He really did change.
“I want to find my way through life first," you tell him.
Max smiles and he pulls you again in a hug. He has tears in his eyes again and he sniffles, chuckling at himself for crying again. He pulls away from the hug slowly and hands you your keys.
“See you around?"
“See you around.”
You exit the car and you notice that your heart feels lighter now compared to the time you left Monaco even though you are doing the same exact thing—leaving Max to go home.
At the end of 2023, you grace the paddock with your presence—your signature YSL heels is back on the tracks. You wear pants now, instead of the corporate pencil skirts, matched with a Prema Racing polo shirt. The label at the back indicates: AERODYNAMIC ENGINEER. By the end of 2024, you are promoted to the strategy team. By 2025, you become a race engineer of an up-and-coming racing superstar and you kept the job position until now.
The world didn't end just because your Dad died. It took you a while to realize that your Papa didn't own your dreams. It was always yours to begin with. He just played a part in inspiring them.
Max Verstappen became the 2024, 2025, 2026, 2027, and 2028 WDC, marking history as an eight-time consecutive champion. He retired after the 2028 season and disappeared from the face of the Earth. He had stopped going home to his penthouse in Monaco, had put his private jet on sale, and had cut ties to his father, Jos, who was very disappointed that his son had retired too early in the sport. Max retired willingly—he had achieved more awards than most of his seniors and it's time to give room to the younger ones. Rumors say that he had established a racing program somewhere in Belgium. Charles Leclerc, Max's friend, refuses to update the media regarding Max's whereabouts and only says: "He's happy. Don't worry."
Years later, a thirteen-almost-fourteen year-old girl named Emiliana Julia Verstappen, racing under the American flag, become the youngest driver in history to join the ranks of the F1 academy and later, she becomes the youngest driver to ever drive a Formula One car, racing for Scuderia Ferrari as second driver, at only seventeen and a hundred and fifty days old, overthrowing Max Emilian Verstappen, retired eight-time F1 WDC, whom the world has not seen since his retirement, from the list.
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f0point5 · 5 months
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Nothing safe is worth the drive
Part 96 of the Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader social media au
A/N: DINNER. IS. SERVED. Okay be kind guys because if this doesn’t live up to everyone’s expectations Imma need to sleep in the road. But seriously I hope you guys enjoy this and that it has been worth the wait! 🧡🥺
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Tag list
@somanyfandomsbruh @eugene-emt-roe @reidsworld @maxcuntstappen @laneyspaulding19 @elliegrey2803 @inthestars-underthesun @jayda12 @gaysontoast @baw-sixteen @wcnorris @motorsp0rt @obsessed-fan-alert @lifesuckslife @luciaexcorvus @dumb-fawkin-bitch @lickmeleclerc @goldeng1rl8 @trentwife @mynameisangeloflife @princessria127 @mcmuppet @hiraethrhapsody @toomuchdelusion @lxclerc @lpab @lordperceval-16 @larastark3107 @bangtanxberm @random-readers-world @bladestark @allenajade-ite @ironmaiden1313 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @charllleclerc @kachoooow95 @bellalilo @samywhale @satellitelh @leclercdream @jamie2305 @illicitverstappen @vellicora @honethatty12 @sociallyinepludi @raizelchrysanderoctavius @bellewintersroe @taylorslovesswifties13 @tyna-19 @jquinnmunson
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archiverstappen · 2 months
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it’s a match (part 5) ✧ lando norris
lando norris x fem! actress! reader
previous part | masterlist
reader is in desperate need for a boyfriend, so her best friend took a drastic measure to find her one
[lando’s whatsapp]
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[lando’s messages]
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[whatsapp]
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[messages]
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[profile]
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[instagram]
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[lando’s whatsapp]
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author’s notes: the longest one yet!! introducing the dad who always speaks in corporate and the our beloved roblox obsessed brother! i know that the whatsapp bits are kinda messy but i hope you guys still enjoyed it!!
taglist: @somanyfandomsbruh @allywthsr @marialovesf1 @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @justab-eautifulmess @chimchimjiminie16 @mrsmaybank13 @minkyungseokie @dhhdhsiavdhaj @babyvinnie @flippingmyshit @lordperceval-16 @cha-hot @leclercdream @raizelchrysanderoctavius @bladestark @slytherheign @laneyspaulding19 @sticksdoesart @magical-spit @verew @teti-menchon0604 @buendiabebeta @soleilgrec @tsukishitm-a @leclucklerc @thatoneembarrasingmoment @dark-night-sky-99 @cherry-piee @jun1p3rlol @smartstupyd @1655clean @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @ssararuffoni @formulaheaders @glow-ish @luxebeautystyle @youdontknowmeshh @softtina @judespoision @queen-of-elves @flwr-stella @charli123456789 @leclercdream @goldenharrysworld @erikasurfer @lewisvinga @thecubanator2 @urfavnoirette @chiliwhore @kapsylia @loloekie @honethatty12 @littlehoneyfreak @ironmaiden1313 @iamkaku @imsiriuslyreal
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glitterquadricorn · 25 days
Text
spilled tea and hot gossip - f1 grid
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+summary: there's nothing she loves more than spilled tea and hot gossip. +pairing: f1 grid x female!driver +warnings: cheating, mentions pregnancy, gossip.
a/n: this is just an idea that popped into my head.
I do not give my permission to have my work reposted. I do not give my permission to have my work translated. If I'm notified that you've stolen my work or claim it as your own, you'll be asked to take it down before I'll report you. End of discussion.
Any drama, gossip, or tea that is spilled on a formula one paddock, you best believe she's going to know about it because she's got eyes and ears everywhere. Like for example, the whole situation with Oscar, Daniel and Mclaren. Or how Fernando signed with Aston Martin and didn't tell anyone much less Alpine. Pierre wonders where, or who she's getting this information from, but she'd never reveal her source for they wish to remain anonymous.
"Thanks so much for helping, y/n. You've made our job a lot easier," Jon, a member of her pit crew, smiled and tapped her shoulder.
"I'm always happy to help!" she said. " Do you guys need anything else? If not, I'm going to head out."
"We should be all good to go. Again, thanks for the help."
"You guys have a good day!" she left out the back of the garage and walked down a relatively empty paddock with the exception of other teams' staff here and there.
She was almost at the entrance when from the corner of her eye; she spotted a man wearing a black and red Haas shirt. Whoever he was talking to she didn't know, and it wasn't her business. But what he told to said person on the phone shocked her.
"I messed up, man. I shouldn't have even slept with her," the man paused, running his hand down his face. "Oh, the girlfriend of a mechanic over at Alpha Tauri. But that's not even the worst part of it. She's pregnant and doesn't know who the father is."
The sound that came out of her mouth wasn't human, and she quickly had to pretend she saw something shocking on her phone because the man looked in her direction. Man, she couldn't wait to tell the boys.
The following day after scanning her id, she strutted down the paddock like a woman on a mission.
Spotting the dutchman, who conveniently was standing with Daniel, Charles and Pierre outside the redbull garage, she excitedly walked right over. "You'll never guess what I heard yesterday."
"Judging by your excitement, I assume it's something juicy." Pierre replied. Just by the excitement alone, he knew that whatever she was about to say was going to be good.
"Yesterday, I stayed back after qualifying to help my pit crew clean up and put things away. When I was done, I left and walked down a relatively empty paddock, but stopped when I overheard somebody from Haas talking on the phone. I don't know who he was talking to, because it's not relevant, but what is, is what he told them."
"Get to the point, y/n."
"I was getting there, Max," she paused. "He told them he slept with a girlfriend of a mechanic over at Alpha Tauri. That alone is pretty juicy, but what he followed it up with had my jaw on the floor. And he followed it up with and she's pregnant and doesn't know who the father is."
Gasps leave their mouth as their jaws drop just like hers did from the day before. Behind Charles, her pr manager, Tracy, waved her over.
"Enjoy the tea, boys." she smirked, patted Charles on the shoulder as she walked away.
---
I know Visa Cash App RB team name isn't Alpha Tauri anymore, but I hate the name Visa Cash App RB with a passion.
tagging:
@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @patzammit @tinycyber @keenmarvellover @mrspeacem1nusone @lendeluxe @alexxavicry @allenajade-ite @catswag22 @eugene-emt-roe @wcnorris @bibissparkles @cherry-piee @khaylin27 @evie-119
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softguarnere · 2 years
Note
would eat up anything with spears x a combat medic/nurse reader :)
Learn to be Lonely
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Ron Speirs x reader
A/N: The way that I went feral upon seeing this request in my inbox. I immediately knew I had to commandeer it to add to my soft!Speirs agenda. Thank you for the request, Anon, and I hope you enjoy this! 💕
Warnings: sickness, mentions of war, the author probably confusing "lie" and "lay" (it is what it is; we're just going with it at this point)
Amidst all the chaos, it's the little pockets of peace like this that make you feel, just for a moment, like things could be almost normal again. Despite the fact that some of the Haguenau buildings that Easy has been quartered in have missing walls, are covered with a thin tissue of dust, and that the world perpetually looks as dull as an oncoming rain cloud, waking up before the men and sitting up at the kitchen table sipping on warm coffee provides a moment of what's as close to relaxation as you can get under the circumstances.
Eugene always arrives shortly after you sit down with your coffee. Neither of you talk much, but you're grateful for the company -- your thoughts become a little too loud if no one else is around, but something about your fellow medic provides a sense of comfort. Even when you do talk -- even when it has to be about the war you're both trying to forget for a moment, and the men, and how they're doing -- it's pleasant.
But this morning, something seems to be on Doc Roe's mind.
There's no denying that you're both observant; it just comes through in different ways. Whereas Eugene is quiet and enjoys people-watching, picking up on the men's little ticks and mannerisms, you're more outgoing, getting to know them and their thoughts and feelings on a personal level. It's what makes you work so well as a team -- you're able to compare notes and spot problems with them almost immediately. Which means that you can also spot problems with each other.
Eugene sits across the grimy kitchen table from you and takes a sip of the bitter coffee you brewed. His brow is furrowed, which wouldn't necessarily be unusual, but he keeps frowning into his coffee cup. Several times he opens his mouth slightly and draws a breath, like he's getting ready to say something, but then he stops himself and takes a sip of the coffee instead.
"Something wrong?" You finally ask.
His slender frame jerks as he looks up at you. He blinks. "Oh. No." He pauses. "I'm not sure."
You sip your coffee, waiting for him to continue.
His voice is quiet, like he's afraid someone might overhear him, and he looks almost puzzled when he admits, "I think that something might be wrong with Captain Speirs."
"Speirs? That's the last thing we need. First Lipton, now him . . ."
"Well, I'm not sure." Eugene frowns down at his coffee again. He shakes his head. "He's hard to read."
"That's an understatement."
"I noticed it last night, when most of the men were downstairs, joking around and playing cards. He stayed towards the edges of the room, and then I saw him slip out early and head upstairs. I assume he went to bed."
That in itself wouldn't be so unusual; Captain Speirs is a private person, and when Easy Company isn't in active combat, he's often more of a presence than a part of the group.
"I don't know," Eugene says again before you can point this out. "Something about him just seemed . . . different. Off, even."
"Maybe he was just tired," you suggest, even though you're not able to think of a single time during the whole war that you've seen the legend of a man anything other than alert.
"Yeah." Eugene agrees. "Maybe."
Voices approach the kitchen, and a second later, some of the men start shuffling in, roused and fortified by the smell of coffee -- however bad it may be.
"You checked on Lip yet?" You ask your fellow medic. And then your morning continues just like any other one.
--
Something is not right, you think to yourself as you watch Skinny and Liebgott march off in defeat, looking frustrated. It's the fifth time since that morning that someone has asked you if there's any chance that you know where Captain Speirs is. And, you have to wonder as you make your way towards the bedroom in the quiet corner of the house most of the company is quartered in, maybe no one has thought to do the obvious thing and check his room.
You pause just outside the door, unsure. You don't know Speirs particularly well. He's the Captain, yes, but he's more distant than other officers. Would he even want someone to check on him? Where others might see it as a gesture of concern and goodwill, someone like Speirs might see it as overstepping, you reason as snatches of rumors play in your memory.
No. You make up your mind -- you're a medic and it's your job to watch out for the health and wellbeing of these men. If he sees it as overstepping, then it's his problem. Your raise your fist and knock on the door before you can talk yourself out of it.
It's quiet, and slow, but from the other side of the door, you can just make out the sounds of movement. A moment later the door handle squeaks and a pair of dark, sunken eyes peers at you from the door's crack.
The door opens wider to reveal Captain Speirs, but not as you've ever known him. Whereas your Captain stands tall, alert, and ready to move at a moment notice, this man moves slowly, and keeps blinking, like he can't get his eyes to focus. Not to mention the shakiness in his hands as he opens the door.
"(Y/N)?" His voice sounds hoarse.
It takes you a minute to find your voice. "Captain Speirs, Sir. Are you okay?"
He blinks rapidly for a moment and then leans against the doorway. Even in the low lighting of the hall, his face glistens in a sheen of sweat. "(Y/N), I think . . . I think that something is wrong." He squints at you. "Aren't you cold?"
"No, Sir. Are you? You're sweating."
"Am I?" He sounds shocked, but his brow only furrows slightly.
"Captain, everyone has been looking for you all morning."
The Speirs that you know never would have been in a situation like this, you have to remind yourself, but if he had, he would have jumped into action the minute he realized something was wrong. But this Speirs doesn't seem fazed. Yes, you affirm, something is wrong.
Speirs shuts his eyes and draws in a deep breath -- or at least, as deep a breath as he can manage. You step forward and prod him with gentle hands, back into his room, back into bed. He doesn't protest.
"Sir, have you eaten anything today?" You ask as you cover him with a blanket. "Have you had anything to drink?"
He shakes his head. You had assumed as much. You're already planning a course of action for how to deal with this. Making sure that the Captain doesn't get dehydrated from isolating himself all morning is just another step in that plan.
"I'm sick, aren't I?" He asks when he sees you rummage through your medic kit for something to give him. Something in his voice is different than you've ever heard it. He doesn't sound defeated, exactly, but he sounds tired and . . . sad?
"I'm afraid so. You might have picked up Lipton's pneumonia. We'll have to figure out what this is so we can fight it."
Strong hands scrub themselves over his face as he sighs. "Hate bein' sick," he mutters.
You reach out and pat his shoulder -- without even thinking about it, just like you would for any of the other men -- as you assure him, "We're going to fix that."
--
What would you do without George Luz? you have to wonder. You've seen other men in Easy practically beg him for the chocolate bars and cigarettes being shipped in, only to be refused. But the second that you asked for an extra food ration and had only sent him a beaming smile when he asked why you needed it, he tossed one to you with a wink, and even gave you first dibs on some of the medicine that had arrived that morning. Being friends with the radioman in charge of supplies has it's perks.
Even though it takes a minute for him to pack some medical supplies into a box and asks you to take some to Doc Roe, you don't think much of it -- someone as private as Speirs probably isn't very keen to have you rushing back to play doctor in a space as personal as his room.
You're in such a good mood after seeing the shocked looks on the rest of the company's faces when Luz gives into you that you smile all the way to Lipton's room, where you know Eugene will be. You trade off some of the medicine Luz sent you with with a quiet "I found the Captain" before you head back.
You knock lightly on the door of Speirs' room before entering with the food ration and medicine, despite the fact that you know he's inside, and that he should be lying on the bed.
Should be.
He's sitting on the side of the bed, feet flat on the floor, hand on his knees and head bowed, looking fatigued.
"Captain?" You question.
"I thought --" he stops, swallows thickly. "-- I was going to look for someone."
"For who? Me?"
He nods. "I just . . . nevermind."
Well okay then. If it weren't for the fact that you were so worried about him, seeing him act so unlike himself might be a bit funny. Who would have thought that Ron Speirs, of all people, would be a person who would get loopy when sick? You would have imagined him to be someone who muscled through it.
Gently, you help him lie back down. You make sure he eats and you give him some medicine. You even give him gentle reassurances that he'll be better soon, just like the good medic that you are. But something stops you from leaving him and moving on to see if anyone else in the company needs looking after.
"Will you be okay, Sir?" You ask.
He shrugs. "Do I just stay here? And sleep through this?"
"That would probably be the most conducive to your recovery. No paperwork and overworking yourself like Sergeant Lipton."
You wouldn't be surprised if he protested, insisting that there are things to be done and that he's going to do them. Instead, he frowns.
"I'm quarantined in here by myself." Something about the way that he says it tugs at your heart strings. You're trying to decide if the sickness is causing him to act unlike himself or reveal something about who he really is when he says, "I hate being alone."
"Really?" There's no time to stop the surprise from slipping out. If he notices, he doesn't care. He only nods. "But everyone thinks that you prefer it."
Silence starts to settle over you like the dust that perpetually covers so much of the house's interior, but you decide to break it before you even really figure out why. "I could stay with you, Sir. If you would like."
He blinks up at you. "You would? You're not afraid of me like the others?"
He might as well have punched you in the gut, what with the way the sentiment lands. You're just as guilty as everyone else, thinking of Speirs as some sort of demigod who prefers solitude to human companionship.
But suddenly he's not that person anymore. He's not Speirs the Killer. He's not Speirs the Legend. He's Speirs the man. He's a man. And he's sick. And he's lonely.
And he seems like he really wants you to stay with him.
You perch on the edge of the bed and run your hand through his sweaty hair under the guise of checking his temperature. "Why would I be afraid of you?"
A hum of contentment escapes him as your fingers card his dark locks. His eyes flutter shut, but just before they can, he sighs, "Well, I'm glad you're not." And then he falls asleep before you can ask what he means by that.
It would be easy to leave. He's asleep and he wouldn't notice. There are other things you could be doing. But you said you would stay, and you have no intention of turning yourself into a liar.
Part of you wonders if he'll feel better when he wakes up, become embarrassed by what he admitted, and send you away. Something that you can't quite name stirs within you as you watch him sleep, and you find that you don't want that to happen.
However you two might feel about what has just happened is something you can deal with later. For now, you're content to just watch the legend -- no, the man -- look uncharacteristically peaceful while he sleeps.
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leclerclov3 · 4 months
Text
。・:*˚:✧。Private but never secret
masterlist | part 1 | part 2
✰ Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader
✰ Warning: /
✰ Face claim: /
✰ Summary: in which they finally get to actually see them
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend and more
yourusername uhm hi everyone…👍
view all
yourbestfriend you’re so fucking akward and for what
↳ yourusername leave me alone 🥲
landonorris you’re so cute 🤍
↳ yourusername you’re cutter
↳ landonorris no you 😠
↳ oscarpiastri no i am now shut up
user92 i love how oscar is so done with them
↳ oscarpiastri i’ve been dealing with this for to long
user92 omg hey oscar *debby ryan face*
carlossainz55 finally 🙄
user929 I AM SO NORMAL RIGHT NOW
user73 i love them so much
usrr19 welp this is gonna be my new personality
user581 otp
user24 couple goals honestly
landonorris
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liked by yourusername, yourbestfriend and others
landonorris my beautiful girlfriend everyone
view all
yourusername blushing ☺️
↳ landonorris i’m just telling the truth baby ❤️
yourbestfriend she was mine first norris
↳ landonorris yeah well she’s bine now
↳ yourusername ladies ladies please there’s enough of me for everyone
oscarpiastri get this off my feed 🤢🤢
↳ yourusername just beacuse you don’t show off lily doesn’t mean lando can’t show me off OSCAR
↳ lilyzneimer yeah oscar ehy don’t you show me off
↳ oscarpiastri look what you’ve done y/n
user828 i am loving this
user 16 they are so cute
user55 goals GOALSSSS
user04 when is it my turn to be happy
user81 favorite wag
user03 who allowed the to be this freaking cute
user23 when he dedicates a whole post to you>>>
。・:*˚:✧。。・:*˚:✧。。・:*˚:✧。。・:*˚:✧。。・:*˚:✧。。・:*˚:✧。。・:*˚
hey everyone sorry for not updating lately exam season and the holidays really took up my time but i hope you enjoyed this last part, but i can make some snippets if you guys want <3
taglist @roseseraj @i-wish-this-was-me @averymjn @allywthsr @spilled-coffee-cup @eugene-emt-roe @iamahallucinationnn @1655clean
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twobluejeans · 9 months
Text
HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!
charles leclerc x famous!reader
summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.
part 4: emo ponytail girl part 3: DUPEE, part 2: wtf does ET know?, part 1: don’t start
faceclaim: madison beer
ally’s radio 📻: PART 3! thank u guys so much for the love on part 1 & 2. IM SORRY FOR LEAVING YOU ALL IN SUSPENSE BUT IM BACK AND buckle up for some more drama (YASS) and a lot of tswift references 🫶
INSTAGRAM, (july 3)
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liked by honeybagerdr, karmaleclerc, and 244,523 others
c16daily Charles seen entering and leaving a restaurant with mysterious girl last night in monaco via @legrandprixclub
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gaslyleclerc WHO THE FUCK
judeslvr i’m so confused it hasn’t even been a full week??
sharlleclerc i can’t keep defending u man if you keep doing bs like this😭😭
ctrly/n oh wow
s1ut4formula1 copy of y/n
bejeweled.y/n @s1ut4formula1 don’t do y/n like that.
veerstappenmaxemilian someone give me her @ right NEOWW
bbynoriss @veerstappenmaxemilian ON IT
TWITTER,
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INSTAGRAM, (stories)
yourinstagram 37m
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viewed by chrisevans, sabrinacarpenter, and 567,431 others
yourinstagram (story) 25m
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viewed by lewishamilton, landonoriss, and 534,133 others
INSTAGRAM,
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liked by latenovembery/n, bloodlinegrande, and 102,345 others
y/nflorals MORE OF Y/N AND FATHER NANDO EATING DINNER AT A RESTAURANT LAST NIGHT IN LONDON.
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444mercedes Y/N’S FERNANDO ALONSO’S DAUGHTER???? WHAT SINCE WHEN??
jpgmacvesstap @444mercedes babe ur so late 😭
lance.strollll no wonder why y/n is so pretty 💀
eversincey/n @444mercedes their relationship is v private. y/n took in her mothers maiden name so that the media wouldn’t connect the two. it’s rare when we see them together bc of their busy lives but yeah i was shocked when i found out too
voguey/n IN FATHER NANDO WE TRUST 🛐
alonsof1 judging by his face ik she dropped some really good tea
missamericanay/n id honestly be shitting my pants if i was charles knowing my ex’s father is essentially my coworker 😭
INSTAGRAM, (stories)
yourinstagram 10m
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INSTAGRAM,
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liked by y/nsonlyangels_, sweetdispositionleclerc, and 567 others
f1paddlockupdates carlos, lando, and daniel have unfollowed charles on instagram.
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ferraribabe i just checked and lance stroll, george russell, and fernando unfollowed him as well 🧍🏽‍♀️
suffering_ferrarifan damn what did homeboy do 😭😭
y/nsredscarf @suffering_ferrarifan cheat obviously
suffering_ferrarifan @y/nsredscarf we literally don’t know that. not believing anything until it comes from y/n or charles themselves 🤷‍♀️
INSTAGRAM,
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ally’s radio 📻: SO YEAH. this was a little filler but might be dropping part 4 later on today to make up for the time i’ve been gone! thanks so much for the love! so fascinating n cool to hear ur ideas and feedback, v much appreciated. what r our thoughts??
taglist🦢🪩: @incoherenciass @dakotali @405rry @topaz125 @sassyheroneckgiant @hevburn @itsmytimetoodream @ivegotparticulartaste @crowdedimagines @asterianax @haydee5010 @scenesofobx @christinabae @magical-spit @dessxoxsworld @myareadsbooks @honethatty12 @hopefulinlove @diasnohibng @gentlemonsterjennie1 @hummusxx @eugene-emt-roe @taestrwbrry @pejarma @cxcewg @chimchimjiminie16 @glow-ish
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verstarppen · 5 months
Text
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summary; there's little time between fast cars and spaceships, but you make it work
pairing; lando norris x fem! star wars actress! reader [ no faceclaim ]
a/n; WE'RE SO BACK (mandatory almost break up arc) [ series masterlist ]
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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, charles_leclerc and 2,080,127 others
yndeathtrooper infiltrated norris hq
view all 521,004 comments
pingu_kikiay i just fell to my knees thank you lord
royalbbgvaltteri DID YOU TROLL US INTO BELIEVING YOU'RE BREAKING UP???
cityofcarlando the collective groan danny/n truthers just let out is incredible
lando_enjoyer WHAT DID I TELL Y'ALL
parentsbestinchident mama and papa are no longer fighting, there is world peace
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liked by mclaren, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 27,011 others
yn.jpg goodbye silverstone, you're going down in history :D
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aaasargeant DON'T LEAVE IM USED TO SEEING YOU IN THE GARAGE NOW
lando.jpg could've been a win
maxvestappen1 I guess we'll never know lando.jpg im in your "objects in mirror are closer than they appear"
oscarpiastri What a perfectly good moment to share something
yn.jpg im in your walls, osc oscarpiastri Well get out and speak from your hearts lando.jpg holy shit y/n you never told me you're the doctor from doctor who yn.jpg haha yeah you got it babe what a cool thing to reference for no reason right oscar oscarpiastri Right
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liked by mclaren, yndeathtrooper, maxverstappen1 and 5,698,965 others
landonorris P2 and a 🏆 at my home race!!!!! ❤️ something's cooking (i don't know what)
view all 598,547 comments
danielricciardo I do
oscarpiastri I do, also maxfewtrell Even I know landonorris bitch maxverstappen1 I was the first one to find out, actually landonorris because of course you fucking were
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pic credits: instagram and pinterest
taglist: @justdreamersdream @cha-hot @dl-yum @minkyungseokie @allywthsr @eugene-emt-roe @soleilgrec @raevyng @baw-sixteen @palomaxaxaxa @cassiopeiia24 @callsignwidow @sheridamn @kissesandmartinis @gods-menace @iifloweringnightsii @fanboyluvr @idkiwantchocolatee @flyclaren @cixrosie @lanando4 @lichterfee @yagirlhayes @blueberry64857959 @thatoneembarrasingmoment @celestialams @inloveallthetime @danielricswife @youdontknowmeshh @arian-directioner @cherry-piee @queen-of-elves @skepvids @woozarts @spaghetittied (taglist is open!)
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caesium-55 · 1 month
Text
—seven days. [ vi.iii ]
pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.
summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.
author's note: updating bc i love yall. lol jk i dont want to study for my engineering management long quiz yet. sum1 yell at me to start studying or smth.
tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal
masterlist.
The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2021 is a little dramatic in Max’s opinion. Some would say controversial. A lot of restarts. The issue with the safety car. Hamilton and Verstappen goes neck to neck. 369.5 points to 369.5. In the end, Verstappen overtakes Hamilton and wins the 2021 World Drivers' Championship.
The team celebrates with him after winning and in the sea of Red Bull employees, Max searches for you.
He won! Max Verstappen won! He’s a WDC now! He finally made truth of the world he told you in 2019.
Kelly appears and kisses him square on the lips. Max sees you in his peripheral vision, pulling your ball cap lower on your face before turning around and leaving. He wants to call you but Kelly keeps him in place.
Max visits your hotel room later, all happy and he holds the canned bottle of beer to you when you open the door.
“I’m not the sour loser anymore.”
You smile at him and Max feels like he’s on top of the podium again.
“Told ya you’ll be champion one day. Congrats, champ. Very happy for you.”
Champ.
Max decides that he likes Champ over every name you call him.
2022
you: go to fucking sleep u degenerate gamer
you: its 3 in the morning you have a race at 8
max: youre not my mother
you: i am ur manager u ass
you: and i have ur mom’s cell no
you: i will fucking call her if ur stream doesn't turn offline in ten seconds
you: 10…
max: you wouldnt dare
you: 9…
He moves into a penthouse at the beginning of the year and purchases a jet, Dassault Falcon 900EX, to make the traveling easier. Flying commercial absolutely sucks, even first class.
When he mentions the money he spent; the penthouse rental cost, the price of the jet plus maintenance of the private plane service, you have stood up and went to the balcony to stare at the Monaco scenery to gather your thoughts. Max laughs as he watches your brain overheat. He tells security that you’re to be given an immediate pass into the building and his penthouse without the need of going through the strict security checks. He gives you a keycard that you barely use because you knock on the door every single time you come by. A month later, Kelly and Penelope move in and this is the beginning of the little family charade.
“What are you doing?”
“Is it not obvious?” you gesture to the iPad in your hand. “Readin’ a Lestappen fic in AO3.”
Max’s brows furrow.
“Lestappen?”
“The ship name between you and Charles. Lestappen. Leclerc, Verstappen, Lestappen,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s stupid for even asking, waving your hand in a complicated flourish. “It’s good. Top-tier literature. Want me to send you the link?”
Max’s nose scrunches, “So there are people who ship me and Charles?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Romantically?”
You nod, “Want the link?”
“Absolutely not.”
You shrug your shoulders.
“Your loss.”
Max wins P1 (as things should be) in Austin, Hamilton P2, and Leclerc P3. The team holds a private drinking party in the hotel bar. Max sits with Leclerc, whom he has invited, and Lando, who came with Daniel, and Daniel because he’s Daniel and he still gets a free pass in Red Bull parties even though he’s in McLaren now.
Daniel passes him a bottle of Heineken and Max searches for the bottle opener on the table but it's nowhere. He reaches for you, who sits on the neighboring table with the PR team. Max grabs the hem of your polo shirt sleeve and tugs slightly to get your attention. He opens his mouth to ask if you’ve seen the bottle opener but you got to moving, not even giving Max the chance to speak.
Without even interrupting your conversation with the PR people or even breaking eye contact with the person who is talking animatedly, you take the beer bottle from Max’s hand, toss a hand towel on top of it, then you use your teeth to remove the cap. It opens with a loud click. You wipe the rim of the bottle, pocketing the bottle cap, before returning the Heineken to Max.
Max looks at the Heineken bottle in his hand.
You know, Sophie, Max’s mother, always say that there's a certain type of intimacy existing when two people are able to communicate without the use of words. People associate intimacy with bare skins and basking in the fragility and vulnerability of a person, but intimacy goes deeper than mere nakedness and showing all the bare parts of you to the other person. Intimacy comes hand in hand with truth. When you admit your truth to the other person, that's intimacy. Her knowing his truth, his needs, without him telling her. That's another kind. If that's not the purest form of love then he does not know what is.
Charles pats his shoulder to pull him to reality.
At that moment, Max decides he’s an asshole because he just realized that he likes his manager after she opens his beer bottle and he has a fucking girlfriend now.
Max wins WDC for the second year in a row. Leclerc is at second and Perez at third. He’s on the top of the fucking world. Everything feels right now that he’s standing at the top.
His eyes search for you in the crowd but he doesn't find you. Only Kelly. He kisses Kelly, celebrates with the team, and visits you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer in hand. It's a little past midnight, his watch tells him. You open the door seconds after Max knocks.
“Have you talked to Horner?” you ask, accepting the beer and opening it. The loud click when you open it feels satisfying in his ears.
You’ve changed out of the Red Bull polo now and instead, you wear a black shirt.
“No,” Max shakes his head.
“When will you?”
“Soon.”
That's the only truth he can offer. Because the bigger truth is this: Max doesn't want you going anywhere, not even the engineering team who works closely with him. He only wants you here, beside him, behind him, at all times.
One more year. One more year and he's going to tell Christian to move you to the engineering team. One more year to have you and he’ll let you go.
(That's what he told himself last year, too.)
“Okay,” you nod and it relieves Max that you’re not arguing with him about it. “Congrats, Champ.”
You don't fly with him to Monaco. You don't fly with the team either. Instead, you fly to Texas immediately straight from Abu Dhabi. Max calls you once in the middle of break to greet you happy holidays and you mail him his gift—a clay keychain figure of him. He adds it to his keys, sitting right next to the beaded keychain you gave him back in 2020 and a bottle opener keychain in 2021.
2023
“Should I break up with Kelly?”
Your head snaps up at a speed that should be considered a hazard, stunned. You give Max a look that can be translated as: Did the g-force finally catch up to your brain?
“What prompted this?” you question, slowly setting Max’s laptop aside. You’re working on fixing his laptop’s wifi connection while he’s getting his makeup done for the Heineken ad filming. Once the makeup artist deemed him done and left the room, he immediately took the chance to ask the question.
“Nothing,” he lies.
“I’ll throw away your laptop if you don't tell me the truth,” you threaten.
“It's just—” Max pauses. His mouth feels dry. He licks his lips before continuing, “It’s just… I don't know how to explain it. It feels like I don't love Kelly anymore.”
I think I love you, [Name].
“Aight,” you grab a monoblock chair and drag it until it's right beside Max’s chair and plop your ass down. You sigh deeply before your face schools into complete seriousness. “Can't believe I’m the one givin’ you this talk. Uh, Max, you see, in a relationship, you typically experience this period called the honeymoon phase.”
Max nods slowly. He doesn't know where you're trying to get at but he clings on each word that leaves your mouth.
“The honeymoon phase can last anywhere from months to years and when it's done, the strong feelings and infatuation you have for Kelly decreases and that's natural. This is the stage where your bond with Kelly is strengthened,” you explain. “It's not all sunshine and rainbows. It can get boring. But the love is still there. It's just…well, less intense than before.”
He wants to ask if this happened to you and Leo as well, but he bites his tongue and says a different thing instead, “You give advice like a relationship guru.”
“Baby, I have a long list of ex-lovers. Kelly’s your first girlfriend. You don't have a say.”
Your birthday is near. Daniel shares to Max that he’s buying you a new ball cap this year, signed by your favorite professional billiard player. Max needs to give you something better.
He thinks about the things you like. He makes a list. It's a short one.
Beer
A spot in the engineering team.
Your family
He cannot give number three. He cannot give what you already have. He can give you number two but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want you to be anything other than his manager. He can give you number one but it'll be very lame of him if he gives you beer for your birthday. What is better than Daniel’s gift? What would you like more than a ballcap?
Max calls his sister that evening.
“Shoes,” she says. “Oh wait, that's a little hard. You might get her shoe size wrong.”
“She’s size 7. In Euro, 37,” Max states a little too quickly and a little too sure.
“How did you know her shoe size?” Victoria wonders.
“I don't know. I just watch her feet?”
“So, you estimated her shoe size by watching her feet like a creep?”
“I watch her feet a normal amount, Victoria,” Max insists.
“Max, I can't even tell my husband’s shoe size even if I stare at his feet for hours.”
“Maybe you just suck at estimating measurements.”
Max ends up getting the shoes with Victoria’s help. Victoria gets too irritated with him midway because he is too indecisive. He thinks all the shoes that’s displayed do not suit you.
It's not even this difficult when he’s picking shoes to give Kelly. Normally, he just asks the saleswoman to show him the most expensive or the latest in their stock and he buys it, instructs the storespeople to wrap it up and make sure the brand shows because Kelly likes it when the brand is big and bright and attention-grabbing.
“If you think nothing’s pretty enough then go get a custom made shoe,” she advises and then sighs in exasperation. Victoria shakes her head at him. It's not supposed to be a serious suggestion but Max takes it to heart.
Instead of black, Max goes for white. You rarely go in white clothing but when you do, you become so beautiful that Max has to stop himself from kneeling down in front of you and risking everything.
It has pearls and diamonds and satin. All beautiful things that reminded Max of you. Max wants, no, needs to see you put them on. He’s the one who puts it in a box. White-colored with peach stickers and a peach-colored ribbon.
Max plans to give them to you after he wins the Miami Grand Prix. But your family arrives just as he’s about to retrieve it from his driver’s room.
Max meets your family. A family that consists of happy parents and three brothers. You are your family’s unica hija.
Julio [Last Name], your father, is a big man and his accent is thicker than yours and he doesn't call you by your name, only the most affectionate-sounding mija. He reminds Max of a giant teddy bear. A giant teddy bear who crushes rocks for a living.
Your mother, on the other hand, is a stern-looking woman. Sally, her name was. She’s short, compared to you and her sons and her husband.
You have three brothers. One older—you call him Damiano. Two younger—Rafael and Dominic. You are more your mother than your father, Max notices. Appearance-wise anyway. Damiano, too. Sharp-looking, both of you. Your sharpness makes you look charming whereas your Damiano’s sharpness makes him look intimidating. Your two younger brothers are carbon copies of your father, a little round and with kinder looking features.
“Papa, Mama, Bro one, two, and three, this is Max,” you introduce him, smiling widely and you're doing that smile where you’re showing too much gums and your eyes are shaped like crescents. Happiness looks good on you.
He lets out an oof sound when your father engulfs him in a hug. Max hears you exclaim: “Papa!”
Max laughs and waves his hand to tell you that the hug is fine and is very much welcomed.
“Congratulations, Maxwell!” Julio claps Max’s shoulders.
“Papa, please,” you shake your head at your father’s antics. “It's just Max.”
“Ya want to join us for [Name]’s birthday?” Julio invites. Max catches your eyes. You mouth a no but Max shrugs and says, “Sure.”
Max joins the family dinner. It's held in a Mexican restaurant somewhere downtown. Originally, your family reserved a table for ten. But Max has gone ahead and reserved the entire restaurant by paying upfront. You slap Max’s hand but Max laughs and says, “Happy Birthday [Name].”
Over dinner, Maxs learns that Rafael, Dominic, and Damiano are the biggest motosport fans so they all talk about Formula One and occasionally MotoGP. He finds out that they're a big fan of Marc Marquéz. Max tells them that he knows Marc personally and shares his experiences with the man. He promises to send them the man’s signatures. You tell him that he doesn't have to. He tells you that it's his pleasure.
Max listens in attentively as Julio narrates his amazing tales about his work experience. You laugh at the surprised Pikachu face Max makes when Julio is telling the entire table about the creepy call he responded to just the other month. You and your mother occasionally join in on the conversation but are more comfortable with listening to the boys.
Later, you stand up to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Max stands from the table five minutes after you leave. He’s drunk too much soda so now he needs to take a piss.
“Are you okay?” Max asks as he catches you reapplying a layer of lipstick—a shade of nude rose—on the sink in front of the washroom.
You hold the lipstick in one hand but the other is holding your right arm, palm covering the word MANAGER printed on the sleeve of your Red Bull polo shirt like it's something to be ashamed about.
“Yeah.” A lie.
The rest of the night goes the way Max wants it. He almost wishes it won't end.
Kelly waits for him in his hotel room. She gives him a gift for winning P1. The shoe box in Max’s backpack remains untouched.
He’s got every country except Singapore, Saudi, and Azerbaijan under his belt. His third WDC is secure even if he loses Abu Dhabi, but Max is selfish. He still wants a P1 in Abu Dhabi so he fights and fights until no one can catch up because of how fast he was.
Kelly comes with him this time to watch him race and support him because it's the final race of the season and she also knows that Max is going to win WDC this year. P is over at her father right now so it's just the two of them.
“Babe!” Max looks up from his laptop. Kelly comes running in and Max’s eyes widened, horrified, when she sees that Kelly is holding it.
The white shoes.
Max stands abruptly. The laptop in his lap falls to the floor and shatters. He curses and crouches down to pick it up and save what he can save. When he looks up, Kelly is sitting on the bed now and is trying the shoes on. Max shoves the damaged laptop aside and strides towards her. He’ll deal with the laptop later.
“That's not—”
“Oh?” Kelly’s face morphs in confusion. “It doesn't fit.”
Kelly chuckles yet it sounds empty and dread pools in Max’s stomach.
“You bought me shoes many times already. There’s no way you’ll get my shoe size wrong.”
Max takes the shoes from her hand quickly and he puts them back carefully in the box.
“That's not for me,” Kelly states.
“It’s not for you,” Max echoes.
“Then who’s it for, Babe?”
Max doesn't answer. Instead, he avoids her gaze.
“Max Emilian Verstappen, who’s the shoes for?” Kelly is seething now.
For the first time in their two nearly three year long relationship, Max and Kelly get into a screaming argument. They get into arguments as all couples do, but never ones with screaming and crying and too much anger in one room.
“I can't go on like this anymore,” Kelly cries. “I can't. I let it go when you made me wait because you celebrated her birthday with her family. I let it go when you made her that crochet bag. I let it go when you bought a billiard table and brought it into our home because she likes playing billiards—”
“I tried breaking up with you!” Max roars and he sees Kelly flinch. “And you told me not to. You used Penelope so I wouldn't break up with you—”
“Do not even say my daughter's name—”
“It's true!” Max throws his hands in the air like a man gone mad. “I told you in fucking July that I think I’m losing feelings for you! You told me to not break up with you because Penelope already thinks of me as her father and it’ll break her heart if I kick you out of my house! I am NOT her father, Kel, her father’s Daniil! You only want me because I can give you everything you want! Money, pride, and a fucking father figure for your child!”
Kelly strikes his cheek. Sharp, fast, and strong. Max remains still in shock and stares ahead.
Kelly has officially become the second person in this world who has raised a hand at Max.
“I hate you,” Kelly utters it with so much intensity. “I hate you. We’re done.”
She leaves quickly.
Max’s phone buzzes.
you: hey champ. race is on in an hour n a half. u good to go?
max: yeah
max: i’ll be there soon
you: i’ll wait for u
max: you always do
Max races with the guilt that he's a cheating asshole. His mother will not be proud of it once she learns that her son has dated a girl and idiotically realized that he’s in love with his manager halfway through the relationship.
Despite the emotional turmoil that swirling inside him, Max takes P1 and becomes a third-time WDC. He celebrates with the team. You excuse yourself, saying you have something important to do, and Max doesn't bother asking you to stay because he knows he’ll visit you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer. It’s become your ritual now.
He drinks with Daniel, Yuki, and Checo. Five bottles in, he spills everything. He pukes. It tastes disgusting. His world turns into a hazy blur. You came to his rescue because that's what you always do.
Max is so dumb for taking so long in realizing that he's in love with you. It's always been you. You and your dumb considerate attitude and your snarky personality and your crude mouth. He never realized how horrifyingly enormous his desire for you is until its right there in front of him with its mouth wide open, ready to swallow him whole.
you: landed
you: thanks for the jet
you: talk soon gotta get to papa 1st
max: ok
max: stay safe
max: your dad will be alright dont worry
you: i hope so
It has been seven days since the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, three days since you left Monaco, two days since your last conversation in Instagram, and a day before Max flies to Belgium to celebrate the holidays with his mother and sister and his sister’s family.
max: are you okay?
max: just landed in belgium
max: mum and vic says hi
max: hey it's been a week now
max: is your dad okay?
max: im worried
max: call me soon please
max: happy holidays
max: or merry christmas
max: whatever you celebrate there in america
max: yeah i greeted a little too early
max: you didn't answer my call
max: im friends with logan now by the way
max: we talk at times
max: im trying to get him into sim racing
max: maybe it'll help him improve
max: happy holidays
max: i called your cell
max: you know christian just told me something funny
max: he sent an email this morning with a list of candidates for my 2024 manager
max: he said you resigned
max: very funny
max: please tell me you didn't
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f0point5 · 5 months
Text
We will be remembered
Part 102 of the Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader social media au
A/N: And with this, the 2023 season (and this fic) comes to an end. I am going to make a little post last but I just want to say THANK YOU to everyone who has read and liked this fic, first and foremost. You guys have made this fic worth writing more than I ever thought possible and it’s been SO much fun. And thank you to everyone who has come into the inbox and let me natter on about my F1 opinions and everything in between. Just…thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this last part 🥹🧡🧡🧡🧡
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