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norrisleclercf1 · 6 months

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hii! can i please request a mafia! carlos with reader who are in an arranged marriage and 2 months into the marriage reader is victim of a kidnapping which gets her very sick and Carlos takes care of her while also getting revenge? thank you so much ( i love your writing it’s amazing!)

A/N: I've missed writing for Mafia!Carlos he's just sdfksjlfa especially after those Ferrari gala pcis

Never touch what belongs to Carlos Sainz. This was the golden rule of staying alive and out of sight of the Mafia Leader. Don't touch and don't yearn for what is his, especially his pretty fiancée now wife. Carlos made the rules very clear, touch them and he'll murder you in the most exotic and painful ways to die.

He was careful of you, making sure you were treated with the outmost respect and making sure you were safe and happy. Yes, it was an arranged marriage but that didn't mean he'd treat you horribly. He bought you anything you lingered at too long and of course you'd tell him you didn't need it, but he still bought it.

Carlos and you formed a friendship built on some trust and respect. Waking that morning, it was like any other. You are getting ready, Calros showering him coming out in the towel and kissing your cheek. You giggle and pull him to your vanity as you fix his hair. "Mi felicidad, don't worry about me." He grumbles, trying his best not to let out the moan. Your fingers always felt like magic against his skull.

"Let me do this, you do so much for me." You whisper finishing the last strand happy with the way it sits. "There you go," Carlos smiles and reaches around, grabbing your hand. "Thank you," Placing a kiss on your hand.

After that, your day carries on like normal. Sending a quick text you tell Carlos you're running to the grocery making sure you'd pick up his favorite beer and snacks. He sends you back a text, saying to be careful and he'll see you when you get back.

Smiling you carry the groceries to the car, you stop feeling something heavy hit you in the back of the head, and all you can see is darkness wrapping you tight.

"She should be back," Carlos grounds out, trying to stay calm before he jumps to the worst possible things. "Maybe the store is busy, maybe traffic, shit." Carlos pulls at his hair, but curses as he messes it up. He hates messing up his hair when you're the one who fixed it. "Sir," Carlos whips around, feeling his entire being drop out from under him as he sees his guard holding your bag and broken groceries.

Everything hurt, even that voice in your head was hurting, how was that even possible. "Conejita?" A muffled voice pulls you out of the darkness, trying to open your eyes. "Shh, it's okay. I'm here." Fingers move into your scalp and start to move their thick fingers gently. "I'm right here, and not going anywhere you're safe." The voice fades out as darkness sucks you in again.

"Sir, you need to get some rest." The Mafia doctor whispers, being careful to not anger the growing storm in his boss. "I'll rest when the monsters who did this are dead." Carlos growls, he stops when you whimper and squirm in your sleep. "How's the infection?" Carlos asks, looking at your bandaged side.

"Somewhat better, the antibiotics are working but it'll be a long recovery road." The doc whispers, injecting another dose of the medication. "Good, if she dies," The doctor freezes, already knowing that threat aout to leave his mouth.

He's told everyone that touches you; if you die, so do they. His revenge has been a slow process, as you've been on the mend for 3 weeks and only you opening your eyes maybe 3 or 4 times. He was there for each time and his voice the only one you heard. You knew he was there; his hand was holding yours.

Carlos doesn't know when the man leaves, all he knows is you're breathing, and color was coming back. "Mi corazón, babe, Y/n, I need you to wake up. Please, come back to me." Carlos whispers, having never missed a person like this before. He was craving you like a drug.

"Sir, I'm sorry to bother you but," Carlos turns, placing a quick kiss before he stands. "Did you find them?" "Yes sir, they're here." Carlos rolls his neck and shoulders before smirking, a dark look crossing his face. "Well then, let's get to work."

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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 7 months

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Good evening lovely! You better believe I’m back with more Carlos asks. Could I request a Carlos x driver!reader where they’re just two peas in a pod until Carlos sees her in a dress for the first time and is like oh shit?? I am in love??? If you feel :) hope you’re well, your writing is beautiful as always

Just Friends - Carlos Sainz

"Hey midget, how you feeling?" Carlos asked, walking into the medical center and locating where you were sat. "A bit sore, but I'll be fine," you told him. You had spun out pretty badly in FP2, but you were fine.

"Good, good. You still up for the gala tonight?" he asked, hoping you'd say you weren't going. It would give him an excuse not to go too, and he really didn't want to. He always found these events boring.

"Yeah, of course. I'm not missing my first gala," you laughed, knowing he didn't want to go. You were quite excited though, because you'd get to show a classier, more elegant side of you that people didn't get to see.

"There's a lot of people outside asking to see you. The interviewers want to make sure you're not dead," he laughed, offering a hand to help you off of your chair. The doctor had said you were free to go, but you just had to take it easy and you weren't driving in FP3 tomorrow.

"You make it sound like they actually care about me," you scoffed, leaning into him as you slowly made your way out of the medical centre. The minute you stepped out of the door, you were bombarded with cameras and questions.

"Y/N! What happened?" one of them yelled as numerous microphones were shoved in your face. "I locked up the rears and spun out, it happens," you shrugged, not wanting to give them anything they could make a story out of.

"Y/N, are you alright? Can you still race on Sunday?" another one collared as flashes emerged from the back of the crowd. "I won't be driving in FP3, but I'll be in qualifying and the race, just like normal. The car just has front wing damage, so it's all good," you smiled, and you were already bored of being interviewed.

"Thank you," you said, pushing past the crowd and out to the paddock. "I need a coffee," you sighed, and Carlos just chuckled as you hobbled over to the Ferrari motorhome. Flopping down on the couch, personnel came to ask how you were feeling and you were glad to tell them you would be fine.

"Carlos, go get me a coffee!" You ordered, pointing towards the kitchen. Carlos just scoffed and rolled his eyes at you, sitting down beside you. "No," he flatly declined, running his hands through his hair.

"Carlos, please," you whined, not wanting to move because of how sore everything felt.

"Get your own coffee, you might be sore, but you're not useless. Well, you're not completely useless," he chuckled.

"Ugh, you're the worst friend I could ever have," you told him, pulling yourself slowly off the couch as he laughed at your struggle.

"Aw, you love me really," he teased, watching as you hobbled over to the kitchen. "Get me one too, yeah?" he asked, and nearly cackled when he heard a 'Fuck off!' come from the kitchen. As you made your coffee, you thought about how much you valued the friendship between you and Carlos.

He had made the transition into driving for one of the top teams easy, and he was a great role-model for you. You'd never forget how much he had helped you, but you'd never tell him how much he really meant to you. His ego was way too big for that.

Finally, you had your precious coffee in hand as you spotted Carlos still sat on the couch. "Oh thanks, midget, you're too kind," he said, holding his hand out for you to put the mug in. "Absolutely not, I made this for myself," you said, wobbling back onto the seat.

"No really, you shouldn't have," he continued, taking the mug off you. You're limbs were aching too much to fight back, and you had to watch as Carlos took a big swig of your coffee. "You're a bitch," you playfully spat, whacking him in the arm with all the strength you had left.

"No, you're a bitch," he jibed, jabbing you in the ribs. It was supposed to be a well-spirited gesture, but it just sent spikes of pain shooting through you. "Carlos, stop it," you told him through gritted teeth, pushing his hand away.

"Shit, sorry, I completely forgot. Are you alright?" he asked, his joking manner completely falling and he became the caring Carlos you got to see every now and then. "Yeah, yeah, just don't do it again. And give me my coffee," you told him, straightening up.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. Here," he apologised again, handing you your coffee mug. He felt really bad, even though it was an accident. It was meant in good fun, but he'd hurt you, and he never liked seeing people he cared about in pain.

You finished off your coffee, and slowly tried to stand up as someone was ready to take you back to the hotel. "Hey, take it slow," he said, wrapping an arm around your waist and helping you up. "Thanks," you smiled, walking out of the building as he helped you.

He took you all the way over to the car, and he heard you wince in pain as you tried clamber in. "Midget, take it easy, I've got you," he affectionately said, lifting you and putting you in the car so you wouldn't have to move all that much.

"Thanks Carlos, I'll see you later," you said, moving your arms out of his way as he leant over you and clicked your seatbelt in place. "No worries, who else likes you enough to look after you?" he teased, still making fun of you, even when he was being nice.

"Funny, Carlos. Real funny," you laughed, closing the door and waving him goodbye as you drove away. He may have teased you, but he really did care about you.

Being around the paddock wasn't all that fun when you weren't there to mess around with, so Carlos just had to keep himself busy until it was his turn to go home. All he could do was go and pester Lando, since he was one of the only other fun people left around.

Meanwhile, you were slowly hobbling up to your hotel room, which happened to be on one of the top floors. Typical. But once you got into your room, you told yourself you weren't allowed to lie on the bed. If you did, there was no chance you had the strength or willpower to get back up.

You figured a shower would be in order, since it might make you a bit less sore. It took longer than expected to peel your clothes off you, and it was a fairly agonising task. You couldn't lift your arms much higher than your shoulders, and bending anything was near on impossible.

You silently spat expletives as you struggled, finally managing to get into the shower. The warm water helped soothe your muscles somewhat, but it still hurt to move. The suds slipped down your body, and you gave up completely when you dropped the soap on the floor. There was no way you were getting it back.

The best you could do was wet your hair, since lifting your arms was undoable, so washing it was out of the question. When you got out of the shower, you wrapped a towel around you and decided to let your hair air dry. Looking in the mirror, you spotted purply-red splotches peppered down your arm, and there were some disappearing past the towel line.

Taking it off, you saw how they spread across your ribs and a few were sprinkled on your hip, only on the side where you made impact with the tyre barrier. Your plan was to wear a dress with the sides cut out, but that didn't seem like a great idea.

Then again, you didn't have anything else that was fit for a gala, since you had had the dress custom made for this exact occasion. You slowly did your makeup, the most unnatural part of it being the red lipstick that matched the dress.

You decorated your ears, neck, wrists and fingers in gold, before shimmying into your dress. The worst part was doing the zip yourself, since you couldn't stretch your arms around to your back. You managed, but you realised you'd be late and the car was already waiting outside.

You ran out of time to cover up the bruises on your right side, so you thought it was fine to just leave it. Giving yourself a final once over in the mirror, you loved what you saw. Your dress hugged your every curve perfectly, and the gold with red screamed Ferrari.

After making your way downstairs, you stumbled into the car and headed off for the gala. Carlos, on the other hand, had just arrived. He looked around, and quickly sussed out that you weren't there. "Hey, mate!" Lando said, pulling him in for a quick hug.

"Hey, are you bored already or is that just me?" Carlos chuckled, taking a glass of champagne off a tray from one of the waiters wandering by. "I was bored the minute I stepped in here, how's Y/N? Have you had a chance to talk to her?" Lando asked.

He was right behind you when you spun out, so he saw the impact that you hit the barrier with. "She's fine, just sore. I'm surprised she's even coming tonight, to be honest," he said, sipping away at the golden liquid.

"She's coming? That's a surprise. I would have taken that as an excuse not to come," Lando said, almost shocked. "So would I, but she is actually really excited, even though I told her how boring they actually are," Carlos laughed, leaning against the wall beside Lando.

"Speaking of Y/N, here she is," Lando said, nodding over to the grand entrance of the hall for the gala. Carlos turned his head, and his heart stopped beating in his chest. "That's not Y/N," he scoffed, looking as people's eyes all simultaneously wandered over to where you were stood.

Your eyes darted around the place, trying to find Carlos. "It is, Carlos, look at her," Lando nudged him, and he couldn't believe it was you. Seeing you stood there, the whole room's eyes on you, in the most stunning red dress made him feel something he had never felt before.

He couldn't take his eyes off you as you slowly walked, still trying to locate him. Suddenly, your eyes lit up as they landed on Carlos and Lando. You had that classic, confident swagger that you had always had, but tonight, it was paired with this elegance he never had seen before.

"Hey guys," you smiled, standing with the two of them. Lando greeted you, and Carlos couldn't form words. The way the dress showed off your figure, the way it showed off your skin, the way it transformed you from a racing driver to a lady. He loved it.

"Carlos? You OK?" you asked, placing a hand on his shoulder to try and snap him out of whatever daydream he was having. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he shook his head, as if he were trying to shake some sense into it, "How are you? Did you manage to get any rest?" he asked, needing to know you were getting better.

"Everything still hurts to move, but it's fine. You get used to the pain," you softly smiled, subconsciously running your hand over the bruises on your arm. "Well no wonder you're stiff, someone did a number on you," Carlos smirked, trying to ignore the butterflies he was feeling.

You were his friend, and you just looked especially good tonight. It was nothing. "Ha ha, very funny," you said, tilting your body so he couldn't look at them. You were trying to forget about them, but it was a given that someone would point them out.

Carlos noticed your slight discomfort, and wanted to take back his comment. He just wanted to be normal and not act like he was really nervous to speak to you. "Hey, in all seriousness, are you sure you're alright? These look like they hurt," he said, gently bringing your arm closer to him so he could inspect the damage.

He spotted the ones that were scattered about your ribs, and he instantly felt worried. He always cared when you were hurt, but this was... Different. It was almost like he could feel the bruises too, he could feel the pain and he so desperately wanted to take it away.

"It's OK, everything hurts and they don't really add to it," you laughed, not wanting him to worry. "They look pretty sick, to be fair," Lando chipped in, feeling oddly like a third wheel. "Yeah, they kind of do. They're my battle wounds," you laughed, striking the best pose you could.

"Exactly, exactly. Max just got here, so I'm going to go and say hi. I'll catch up with you later," Lando waved, walking away from you. "I didn't miss anything while I was gone, did I?" you asked, knowing there were always shenanigans going on around the track.

"No, no. I was just very bored without you," he smiled. It was true, it wasn't the same without you. You just brought laughter with you wherever you went, and he only noticed when you weren't around. "I think you mean you were bored without anyone to bully," you teased.

"Same thing," he smiled, finishing off the last drops of fizz in his flute.

"I'm going to go and get a drink, you want anything?" you asked, gazing at him. He looked handsome tonight, the black suit he was wearing making him look completely different. But in the best way possible.

"Yeah, just another one of these is fine, thanks," he said, and you nodded. He watched as you walked across the hall, as your hips swayed under the light. He observed the way you leant against the bar, and couldn't help but glare at the people whose eyes glossed over you for that second too long.

He felt an unnecessary pang of jealousy ripple through his body, but he didn't know why. You were his friend, and that was it. Again, he put it down to how good you looked tonight. Sure, you were always pretty, but tonight you were beautiful on a whole other level.

He had never felt this way for you before. He had always seen you as one of his best friends, someone who he could gossip with and cause mischief with. But now, he was seeing you as someone he wanted to wake up next to every morning, and fall asleep with every night.

He was completely mesmerised by you. It was like you had bewitched him, enchanted him somehow. You had trapped him under your spell and there was no counter curse. He was doomed to stare at you, as if his eyes were glued to your body for the rest of eternity.

He watched as you sauntered back up to him, handing him a second flute of champagne. "Thanks," he smiled, trying to compose himself. Mentally, he was telling himself to just be normal, but his heart clearly wasn't getting the memo.

"No problem, how long were you here before I was?" you asked, sipping away at your espresso martini. You figured the coffee mixed with the alcohol would wake you up a bit, maybe take the edge off. "Not long, maybe ten minutes? They were the most boring ten minutes of my life," he chuckled.

"Did you just say something nice about me? One glass of bubbly and you're already tipsy? Damn Carlos," you smiled sincerely, nudging him in the ribs.

"If that's how you react, then I'm never being nice to you again," he laughed, leaning back against the wall. As you drank your drinks, he couldn't help but hang onto your every word. He was noticing the little things now that he had previously overlooked.

Like the way you smiled with your teeth when you were properly laughing, or the way your eye slightly twinkled when talking about a topic you were passionate about. It was the way your mannerisms were just so you.

As per usual with every gala, there was soft, mainly classical or smooth jazz music in the background. He had already thought ahead and figured out a way to play this off as a joke, but he hoped it wouldn't have to come to it.

"Dance with me?" He smiled, extending a hand out to you. For a second, you froze, waiting for the punchline. But, you were just met with silence. Carlos thought he had completely messed it up, until you took his hand.

"Sure," you smiled, standing in closer to him. Tentatively, he placed a hand on your waist, careful not to press too hard on your injuries. He hadn't actually thought about the possibility of you saying yes, funnily enough.

You looped an arm around his back instead of over his shoulder, not wanting to lift your arms too much. As the pair of you swayed on the spot, entangled in each other's embrace, Carlos was trying to convince himself he wasn't dreaming.

"You look really nice tonight, I never got the chance to say," you told him, watching the faint beginnings of a blush creep up onto his cheeks. "Thank you, uhm, so do you. You look incredible," he fumbled, preventing himself from speaking anymore, in case he took it too far.

He wanted to tell you that you were absolutely breathtaking, and that he found you unbelievably captivating. He wanted to tell you that he didn't know what had happened, but these feelings had just bombarded him all at once, out of nowhere.

"Thank you," you said. He did allow his fingers to gently trace around the skin of your waist, and you couldn't help but enjoy the gesture. You shuffled in a little closer, slowly lifting your arm to rest around his shoulder.

It was a lot more comfortable in the end, even if it did cause you some slight pain to put it there. "But I really mean it, you're the prettiest girl here," he complimented, unable to stop himself from telling you.

You found it slightly odd at the way he was acting, since Carlos was always so confident - borderline cocky. But now, he was stuttering and blushing. You thought it was sweet to see him in a different light, and this was refreshing to see that even confident people have their nervous moments.

There was something about the way he looked at you, something that wasn't like normal. He always had this mischievous glint in his eyes, but tonight, it had been replaced with something else. It was soft and warm, but you couldn't find a word to define what it was.

It was unusual, but not unwelcome.

The dazzling smile that tugged at the corner of your lips at his compliment sent his heart into a fit of joy. But then, his heart dropped. It was at this point that he realised, in the span of a night, he had fallen in love with his best friend.

And he didn't think there would be an escape, not by any means.

A/N - OK I think this is one of my favourite things I have ever written tbh... I am so willing to do a part 2, so lmk if that's something you'd like to see! If you have any requests, feel free to submit and have a wonderful evening/day. Love you! 💖

|masterlist|

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pucksandpower · 11 months

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can you do some Carlos sainz in honour of home gp?! first meeting or a surfer girl type reader?! 🥹🙏

Spice Up Your Life | CS55

Summary: Carlos Sainz is called “Chilli” for a reason and it’s not the one you might expect

Warnings: minor medical intervention but this is fluff galore

The lingering scent of antiseptic fills the air as you recline in the worn leather chair surrounded by stacks of patient files in your brightly lit office. The soothing hum of the air conditioner is interrupted by the creaking sound of the door as it swings open. Your eyes widen in surprise as you see a familiar face in the doorway — none other than Carlos Sainz. He stands there, blinking rapidly as a pained expression clouds his teary eyes.

You quickly compose yourself and greet him warmly. “Now this is a surprise though I’m sure you would rather be anywhere else. How can I assist you today?”

Carlos winces with his hand covering one eye. "I managed to get myself into a bit of a spicy situation here. A chili pepper decided to show me who’s boss during a team cooking challenge and now it’s really stinging.”

You chuckle softly, finding the irony quite amusing. “It seems you've taken the concept of spicing up your life a little too literally. But fear not, I happen to be the resident expert in pepper related emergencies.”

As Carlos takes a seat on the examination table, you approach him with a gentle smile and reach for your medical equipment. “Just close your eyes and trust me. I am about to put on a magical show of doctorly power to recover your vision.”

He smirks, playing along with your theatrics. “I always knew being a race car driver required a little blind faith but I never imagined it would extend to a physician’s office.”

You raise an eyebrow, feigning indignation. “Oh please. I may not be behind the wheel of a Ferrari but I assure you that my skills are just as impressive in their own way.”

With utmost care, you grasp a sterilized cotton swab and gently dab the corner of Carlos’ eye. He winces slightly but keeps his eyes closed, following your instructions.

“And now for the most crucial part of this operation,” you declare dramatically. “I’m going to need you to hold still, Carlos. This may sting a little.”

Carlos laughs softly. “I’ve driven through crazy hairpin turns at breakneck speeds, I think I can handle a little sting.”

You dip a cotton pad into a soothing saline solution and gently bring it closer to his eye. With a deft touch, you carefully clean away the remnants of chili pepper oil.

Carlos slowly opens his eyes as you finish, blinking a few times to adjust to the newfound clarity and lack of pain. A smile of relief spreads across his face as he continues joking. “You’ve truly worked your magic. My vision is back and the monstrous chili pepper has been slain.”

You bow with a flourish of your hand. “It was merely a touch of medical wizardry combined with a dash of charm. You’re not the only one who knows how to handle the heat.”

Carlos chuckles, gratitude shining in his still reddened eyes. “I must say that this is the most entertaining doctor’s visit I have ever had. Thank you for the exceptional service and the delightful company. And for making sure I don’t have to race in an eyepatch.”

You smirk at him playfully. “Well it’s not every day I have a Formula 1 star as my patient. Consider it an occupational perk.”

With a spring in his step, Carlos stands up from the examination table, ready to conquer the track once more. “If you ever need a driver, you know where to find me.”

You wave him off, laughter bubbling from your throat. “Thank you, Carlos but I think I’ll stick to my stethoscope as my trusty sidekick. If you ever need a prescription for an extra spicy dish, you know who to call.”

He manages to wink the best he can through tender eyes. “How about I take you up on that over dinner at my place? Can’t let the chili peppers think they’ve scared me off.”

“And that, kids, is how your father actually got his nickname.”

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taurussbabe · 1 year

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hi love, can you write something about charles having an accident in the race and the readers there in the paddock, nobody knows how he is while they wait for the ambulance, and she just stands there in shock and cries a litte..

A/n: thank you so much for this request, sorry it took so long 🫶🏎

TW: car accident

"Je t'aime" i love you, those were his last words to you, you were too busy answering a question from Pascale to even process what he had said and when you turned around to say you loved him too, he was already in his car, ready to race.

For you, the silence was the worst part. The silence on the radio after his car hit the barriers. The silence on the garage, everyone looking at the small TV, hoping to see anything, any movement from his part.

Your brain was registering every single detail, trying to see if anything moved, if anything changed.

You saw Max stopping his car and getting out of it, running towards where the Ferrari with the number 16 on it was. Pascale was, like you, looking at the TV and crying, Lorenzo trying to calm her down. And you, you were just staying there, not being able to move, barely able to breathe.

Time was going by too slowly, you tried your best not to cry, but tears were rolling down your cheeks.

Everything happened so slow and so fast at the same time. He was leading the race, doing an amazing job, you couldn't be prouder. That was, until you heard him on the radio, saying something about his breaks feeling weird, but you thought it was nothing, like had been nothing plenty of other times before. You were wrong, one more turn and everything became a mess. His car didn't slow down, the turn making him spin around. The car flipped and skidded for a few meters before hitting the barriers.

Your heart stopped beating for a second, and then it beat too fast. You heard the radio of Fred asking him if was okay, no answer.

He asked again, and again, there was no answer.

You saw people coming to help while max did too, and yet he never moved. Every car got back to their garage, but the one car you wish it did, didn't.

You saw an ambulance going on track, yet you saw nothing more because the cameras didn't film that. You were thankful yet petrified at the same time because you couldn't see anything.

Moments had passed and Fred came to say what hospital they were taking him to and that the only thing he knew was that he was alive. Lorenzo drove you and Pascale to the hospital and went to grab a bag of clothes for Charles.

You were sitted in a chair in the waiting room when Pascale sat down next to you, embracing you. "How are you sweetie? I was so focused on charles I forgot to take care of you too"

"Oh, you don't need to take care of me Pascale, really, thank you though. It's just...the last thing he told me was that he loved me and I was so stupid, I didn't say it back" tears started to fall down your cheeks again, and she made sure to quickly dry them

"Oh, ma chéri, don't worry, he knows it. You will see, he'll be okay and you'll get to tell him that as many times as you want"

You were about to speak as a doctor came to both of you, asking if you were charles family, you both nodded and gave a sigh of relief when the doctor told you charles wasn't conscious earlier to the head trauma, but that he was okay, he only had some broken ribs and a sprained wrist.

Pascale hugged you tight and asked the doctor when could you see him. You thanked the man after he said you could go see him now.

"Well, what are you waiting for, go see him" she said a gave you a slight pat in the back

"No, you should go first, he's your son"

"He's my son, but I know he'll want to see you there when he wakes up" you asked once again if she was sure and headed towards the room the doctor had said to be his.

"Hey" you said as you sat down on a chair next to his bed, grabbing his hand and kissing his knuckles. "I know I didn't get to say it earlier, but I love you too, so much. Please, never ever do that to me again."

"Don't worry, I don't plan on doing it again" he said as he opened his eyes softly, clutching to your hand, vision still blurry and voice kinda rough from just waking up.

"Charles, hi, you woke up, I should call someone" you got up but he pulled your hand.

"I just want some time alone with you now, please, mon amour" you sat again and put you hand on his jaw, cupping slightly.

"I thought I wouldn't see you again" you said, tears forming in your eyes once again, but Charles raised his hand and wiped them.

"You won't get rid of me that easily, don't worry"

"Don't joke, it's not funny. I'm gonna call your mom, she wants to see you" you got up, but this time he didn't stop you, letting go of your hand softly

"Oh, my sweet boy, how are you feeling"

"I'll be fine, don't worry, maman"

"I'll always worry, so will she" she pointed at you "if you ever do that again, I think we will both have a heart attack"

"Oh, for sure" you said softly looking at both charles and his mom

"I'll let you two alone, I'll be outside if you need me" and with that, she left, only you and Charles in the room now.

"Come here" he patted on the small place next to him in bed "I miss you"

"No, you have to rest, I'll sit here, right next to you" you pointed at the empty chair placed next to the bed

"No, lay down with me, s'il te plaît" please

"Fine, but let me know if I hurt you" you climbed onto the bed next to him and he placed an arm around your neck, fingers brushing your hair softly "never do that yo me again, ever"

"Don't worry, I won't ever leave you" he kissed the top of your head and kept brushing your hair.

He watched as your eyes started to close and your breath became slower, and you fell asleep right there, in the arms of the man you loved and couldn't live without"

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 fic #taurussbabe

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putting-it-into-parc · 1 month

Text

jealousy, jealousy - chapter 8: like the french do

previous chapter | next chapter

summary: when your car catches on fire, it’s probably a good thing to just get out…

warning(s): vague mention of suicidal ideation, copious swearing, scary car accident

chapter 8: like the french do

Max knew the second he smelled the fuel leaking that the race—well, his race—was over.

“FUCK!” he bellowed in frustration as his car halted. “FUCK!”

Max hadn’t had a DNF since 2022. He stalked around the pit lane garage, irate, watching the race proceed without him on the screen. Charles flew around the Circuit Paul Ricard unchallenged, leading by a comfortable margin until he suddenly lost the rear end, spun one, two, three times, and crashed into the tyre barrier.

“Are—are—are you okay?” the Ferrari engineer asked through the broadcast.

Charles’ radio beeped. “I CANNOT FIND THE THROTTLE!” he wailed.

Heavy breathing, one exhale after another. Max imagined Charles exercising all the control he had left to keep it together.

But then the engine. Fucking. Caught. On fire.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” came a bloodcurdling scream of pure anguish. Then…an equally deafening silence.

Max desperately scanned the broadcast for signs of Charles climbing out of the wreck. Or the fire crew running over to extinguish the flames. But neither was happening. What was happening were flames climbing slowly over the rear wing. Then the intake. Then the sidepods…

Charles was going to die right there in his burning car.

Max tore out of the Red Bull garage, through the pit lane, straight to the tyre barrier where Charles had spun out. His lungs screamed for air. His legs screamed as the lactic acid started to build up in his calves.

Even several metres from the flaming car, Max could feel the scorching heat.

“CHARLES!!!” he screeched at the Ferrari. He clawed his way up the suspension of the left front wheel.

Charles’ helmet was motionless behind the halo.

Without hesitation, Max reached into the cockpit, seized Charles under his armpits, and hauled him out of the car. His foot slipped under the suspension; both drivers tumbled to the road. Max felt a searing burn across his left cheekbone as it scraped the asphalt, and pain shot up his ankle as he scrambled to drag Charles as far away from the fire as he could.

At least five pit marshals ran over wielding fire extinguishers and a stretcher. Several of them swiftly secured Charles to it. One helped Max shakily to his feet. He started to limp as fast as he could towards Charles, but the pit marshal stopped him.

“He’s alive,” he informed Max. “Don’t worry. He’ll be okay. Can we get another stretcher here, please?” he called.

You don’t know that, Max wanted to scream.

But no amount of protesting stopped the damn marshals from hauling him away to the medical center. Away from Charles.

Shallow laceration over left zygomatic process. Left ankle injury, grade II sprain. The doctor evaluating Max might have well been writing in Greek. He had tapped his uninjured foot impatiently against the exam table. “I’m fine. Really. We fell, like, half a metre. I need to go see if Charles Leclerc is okay.”

After what felt like an eternity and then some, they finally released Max. He limped as fast as his bum ankle would let him down the hall, looking into every room until he saw Charles. Max breathed a sigh of relief when he saw him sitting up.

“Lost a rear. That’s it. I tried to take too much on the outside…but yeah. It’s my fault. And if I keep doing mistakes like this, I deserve to not win the championship,” Charles said grimly to the reporter who had the fucking nerve to interview him in his hospital bed. Max clenched his fists, hovering behind the cameraman and glowering at the reporter until he left.

“You shouldn’t have let him ask you questions,” he berated Charles.

“It’s all true. If I keep making mistakes like this…it’s pointless. Pointless to race here,” Charles muttered. Then he rounded on Max. “What are you doing here?” he asked dully. “Did you come over to gloat?”

“Gloat?” Max positively choked on the word. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You win, Max. Okay?” Charles said morosely. “I guess you figured me out. Well I get it, you like Carlos. And my car is fucked, probably for the rest of the season, and maybe you should’ve just let me go with it, because it’s just…pointless now.”

Max felt an icy dread creep up his spine, follow his arteries down his arms, through his hands, out his fingertips.

“Charles,” he whispered raggedly. “Please…please just answer one thing for me. Just one thing.”

“What…”

“Did you choose not to get out of the car?”

A single tear slid down Charles’ cheek. He didn’t need to say anything. The silence told Max enough.

Max buried his face in Charles’ shoulder and burst into tears. Great, gasping, heaving sobs. “Oh, Charles,” he blubbered pathetically, “there—there is no winning—no world—nothing—without you.”

Charles started shaking, tears dripping onto Max’s neck, snaking their way into the collar of his racing suit.

“No no no—I’m sorry—sorry for everything—Charles, I’m so, so sorry.”

The two drivers remained like that, arms entangled, covered in soot and salt and tears and not caring about it at all, until a nurse finally discovered them a long while later and demanded Max leave for Red Bull hospitality at last.

notes: ouch. at least they know they care about each other? this chapter was a conglomeration of a few races in 2022, all of them total shitshows: - charles’ crash - french gp where charles spun out. chapter takes place in france on purpose, it’s no longer part of the season and therefore the events in this chapter cannot possibly happen irl. no jinxing. - fire - austrian gp when sainz’s car literally exploded and he barely made it out. i might have nightmares permanently from that one - and max’s fuel issue at the very beginning of chapter - australian gp

none of these resulted in injuries irl. but plenty of frustration and pain.

taglist: @fangirl-dot-com @spacegirlstuff @vroomvroomgang @perfectlyrainywerewolf

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lestappenforever · 9 months

Note

May I ask for 16, 17 and 36? 🥺

You most certainly may, my lovely anon! 💕

Also snuck in a little 30. "You didn't have to —" "I did." for you.

Happy race day!

---

16. “Look, I care about you, alright? Quite a bit, I’m afraid.”, 17. “I’m fine, honest.” “Let me see.”, 36. "Come with me. Please?", and 30. "You didn't have to —" "I did."

A touch of George's wheel against his own sends Charles crashing into into the tyre barrier, the front wing completely destroyed and his front left wheel coming off entirely.

When Xavi asks if he's okay over the radio, Charles screams in frustration.

---

"Red flag, Max, red flag. Leclerc went out in turn seven."

"Is he okay?" Max asks immediately, and his heart stops

Silence.

"GP?" he asks again as he turns into the pit lane.

"He's okay, Max. Just got a visual of him getting out of the car."

Max's heart starts beating again.

---

"Fuck!" Charles shouts, slamming the underside of his fist against the wall in front of him. He misjudges the angle, though, and ends up hitting the sharp edge of the wall, cutting into his skin.

It burns, and Charles hisses at the pain as droplets of blood drip to the asphalt by his feet.

"Charles?"

The Monégasque turns to see Max frowning at him, cradling his wounded hand and feeling warm blood seep into his palm.

Max notices it and his frown deepens as he steps closer, reaching for Charles' hand.

Charles holds his hands out of reach.

"It's fine," he mutters, because as much as his hand stings, it doesn't even begin to compare to the hurt of crashing out of the race.

"It doesn't look fine," Max argues, making a 'gimme' gesture with his hand.

"I'm fine, honest," Charles insists, watching as Max's eyes narrow dangerously at him.

"Charles," Max says firmly. "Let me see."

With a sigh, Charles lets Max take hold of his wrist carefully, turning it over to look at the cut that's still seeping blood, dripping to the ground.

"You're a fucking idiot," Max tells him, and Charles immediately tries to pull his hand away. Max's hold tightens, preventing him from moving it.

"Stop moving, you're making it worse," the Dutchman chastises, lowering their hands and reaching for one of the sleeves of his race suit that's hanging down by his legs with his free hand, wrapping it around Charles' bleeding one.

Charles watches, eyes wide and having lost his ability to speak.

Max closes his hand around the fabric now containing the wound, keeping it in place and tugging gently. "Come on."

The Ferrari driver looks up at Max's face, then, his heart hammering away in his chest at the concern he sees there.

"Where are we going?" he asks, hesitating, refusing to move.

Max looks at him as if Charles is the sole cause of every grievance Max has ever felt in his life.

"Just —," Max begins, frustration evident in his voice. He takes a deep breath, calming himself. "— come with me. Please?"

The request is so soft — so caring — that Charles' feet start moving before he can do anything to stop them.

Max guides him through the paddock, the sleeve of his Red Bull race suit wrapped around Charles' hand. They're an odd sight to behold, Charles knows, because the people they pass along the way are staring at them in confusion. Max ignores each and every one of them, and Charles tries his best to do the same.

They end up in the medical center, which Charles would protest against if it wasn't for the fact that this whole situation has stolen his ability to utter a single word. He lets Max pull him along, telling the woman at the front desk what happened and that they need someone to have a look at Charles' hand.

They're shown into a room, where Max makes Charles sit on the bench and carefully unwraps the sleeve of his suit, navy blue stained red from Charles' blood. The doctor inspects the wound and tells Charles he needs stitches, and hands Charles a square piece of gauze to hold againt the wound while she goes to find what she needs.

Max takes it before Charles has the chance to, and presses the gauze carefully against the wound. The doctor offers him a fond smile and a nod, before she disappears out of the room.

Once they're alone, Charles looks up at Max, eyes wide and full of wonder. And confusion.

Max meets his gaze, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you doing this?"

Max snorts, as if it's a ridiculous question. As if Charles should already know the answer.

But Charles doesn't know the answer, so he keeps looking at Max expectantly.

"Why not?" Max shoots back, as if Charles should know the answer to that, too.

Charles huffs at him, rolling his eyes.

"Max," the Monégasque says his name with a long-suffering sigh, as if it pains him.

The Red Bull driver hesitates, weighing his options. Charles can practically see the gears turning in his head. But Max's gaze never moves from his.

"Look, I care about you, alright? Quite a bit, I'm afraid."

Charles opens his mouth to responds, but Max barrels on before he can get a word out.

"Which is really fucking exhausting when you go and do stupid shit like this," he says, lifting Charles' hand slightly, as if it the implication wasn't obvious enough on it's own.

Charles can feel his cheeks pinking, and he looks down at where Max is cradling his wrist gently with one hand, holding the gauze carefully against the wound with his other.

It's incredibly intimate. And it does things to Charles mind. To his body. To his soul.

"I'm sorry," the Ferrari driver blurts, because he doesn't know what else to say.

Doesn't know why apologizing feels like the right thing to do, but it does.

Max makes a non-commital sound in response as the doctor returns, and shoos Max out of the room so she can clean and stitch up the cut on Charles' hand.

The Dutchman tries to argue with her — tries to insist that he wants to stay — but the woman isn't having it, telling him she doesn't want spectators when she's trying to do her fucking job. And Max isn't stupid enough to try and argue with that.

So he obeys and walks to the door, but he pauses to give Charles one final look before disappearing outside, shutting the door behind him.

And Charles is too busy reeling over everything Max didn't say to pay attention the doctor does to his hand.

Twenty minutes later, Charles emerges with his hand stiched up and bandaged, only to find Max sitting in a chair in the reception area, waiting for him. He stands when he sees Charles walking towards him.

"You didn't have to —,"

"I did."

They stand there, just looking at each other, for a long moment, neither man saying a word.

The two of them have been dancing around each other for years, and Charles has spent an unreasonable amount of time wishing — hoping — for the courage to do something about it. But every time he's been about to, he's chickened out at the last minute, taking them back to square one.

Max, however, seems tired of waiting.

"Come on, I'll walk you back to the motorhome," he says, walking to the door and pushing it open, holding it that way for Charles.

The Monégasque doesn't need to be told twice and as they exit the medical center, Max falls into step beside him as they walk through the paddock, shoulders occassionally bumping together and their hands brushing.

Charles wants to grab Max's hand, but doesn't.

When they come to a stop outside the Ferrari motorhome, Max turns to face him.

"I think we should talk, later," he says, as casual as if he was talking about the weather. As if the implications to his words aren't fucking massive.

"I think so too," Charles agrees, sounding nowhere near as calm. In fact, he sounds borderline hysterical.

Max — the fucking asshole — grins at him.

It make Charles all flustered, and he scratches at the back of his neck helplessly.

"I'll text you," the Red Bull driver says, and then he's turning around and walking away.

Charles watches his go for a moment, before composing himself enough to head into the motorhome.

When he makes it into his driver's room and checks his phone, Max has already texted him.

Charles' smile is so wide it makes his cheeks hurt.

Max Verstappen

[Address attached]

Room 736

#Lestappen ficlet #Lestappen drabble #Drabbles #Lestappen prompt #Prompts #Ask prompts #My writing #Asks #Anon #Anon asks

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clavissionary-position · 1 year

Text

◆ I k e m e n P r i n c e ◆ RIP Ice-Cream Man

Zombie ! GILBERT ⨉ EMMA . 900+ WORDS suggestive content . fluff . dark comedy zombie gore . modern au

18+ MINORS DNI

"Gilbert, come back here!" Emma shouts, syringe in-hand, as she chases her patient through the clinic's parking garage. "Oh, I regret letting you out. You told me you wanted some air! Gilbert! Damn it!" As if that isn't bad enough, she's made the supremely excellent decision of wearing pumps today.

True to superstition, her next step is a miss, and her undignified squeak echoes down a line of sedans.

Gilbert's tell-tale laugh echoes back, though his voice is muffled with distance. "Sounds like someone's tripped."

"Gilbert!"

"So you did trip? Ahaha! My cute, clumsy little doctor. Whatever will I do with you?"

Emma brushes gravel off her pantyhose before changing course for the third-floor deck. Thankfully she hasn't twisted anything. Yet. Murphy's Law is her Sword of Damocles, and Gilbert seems keen to wield it. So much so that tucking the syringe away in her pocket for now is more prayer than common sense.

At least Gilbert isn't flaking off bits of skin in his wake now. Maybe his treatment is going better than she initially thought.

"He's going to need extra treatment after I find his zombie ass," she grumbles under her breath as she flies up the stairwell.

The third-floor deck is usually where staff parks. Emma finds Gilbert sitting on the hood of Dr. Ricci's Ferrari, eating an ice-cream bar. "Where did you get that?"

Gilbert uses both legs to kick the skateboard at his feet toward Emma. "I bit the ice-cream man."

Emma side-steps. "No you didn't." It's not that she's gotten used to his dark sense of humor, but it's become easier to tell his jokes from his confessions.

Gilbert tilts his head and his bangs fall over his empty left eye socket. "Are you sure about that?"

"The ice-cream man doesn't come until 6pm."

"Have you seen him since the day before yesterday?"

Emma pauses. "No... But I don't normally keep track of his visits."

"And you didn't notice something strange about your personal fridge recently?"

Emma throws absolute daggers at him. "You said you'd follow my rules, Mr. I-Can't-Lie."

Gilbert smiles sweetly, a slightly feral sight considering how far up his cheek one side of his mouth has decayed to. "I haven't broken any rules." He shakes the ice-cream in his hand. "This would melt if I didn't store it somewhere, right?"

"And the part about biting the ice-cream man?"

Gilbert shrugs. "I guess you'll have to see if he comes in today."

"Please get down from the car. You're getting gore all over it."

"I am?" Gilbert makes a grand show of assessing his palms. "I guess I'll be taking my nap here then."

"No!" Emma is close enough now that she can reach for him, but she hesitates. A fair chunk of Gilbert came away the last time she'd had to forcefully grab him.

Gilbert's red eye narrows with amusement. "Go ahead. I like it when you take parts of me home with you."

"Oh my God, Gilbert, stop saying things like that!"

He pouts, that killer, dire, menacingly adorable pout. "And here I thought I was your favorite patient. Don't tell me you like Chevalier more? He's such a grouch."

"I never said that."

"You don't have to. Everyone knows that Chevalier―"

"I never said you were my favorite patient."

"Is that so?"

"I'm su―"

Gilbert suddenly grabs Emma's hand for a vicious tug. Before she can finish her yelp, her back hits Silvio's car and Gilbert's face fills her field-of-vision.

His hand hovers in the space above her heart. "Should I give you a little examination myself then?"

Emma gives him a mock-smile. "Do it then."

Gilbert holds her gaze, saying nothing but meeting her smile, tooth for tooth. The tips of his bangs tickle Emma's cheeks, but where there should be the sound and feel of human breathing against her face, there is nothing.

Gilbert could take a chunk out of her neck right now if he wanted. But Emma is extremely confident about one thing when it comes to him.

Seconds that feel like eternity pass. At long last, Gilbert moves his hand to take the syringe from her coat pocket. He uncaps it with his mouth and plunges it into his arm as he gets off Emma. His ice-cream sits melting in a sliver of sunlit concrete.

Emma purses her lips and adjusts her shirt. "Do you like that flavor?"

Gilbert tucks the used syringe back in Emma's breast-pocket. "It's okay. I prefer something sweeter though."

"Please don't say things like that while looking at me like that."

Gilbert smiles as he slides off the hood of the car. He turns around and offers Emma his hand. "Consider it revenge."

It's only after she's taken his hand that Emma realizes how quickly she did so, and with how little hesitation. Because it hadn't been that long ago when she'd been prone to do the exact opposite.

Gilbert helps her down and then sorts out her collar with gentle brushes of his partially-decomposed hand.

His gloves sit on Emma's desk back in her office. Suddenly she isn't so sure why they're there in the first place. She must have had a reason, and yet...

Emma tries to stop Gilbert, but when she looks over her shirt, she doesn't find any gore or residue on her whatsoever. When she looks back at Gilbert, he returns his fake pout.

"Ahh, what a shame," he laments. "I really wanted to go home with you today."

Emma dodges his gaze. Her mouth fights against the strange emotions pricking her heart. "Hurry up and get well soon then."

#gilbert von obsidian #ikemen prince #ikemen prince fanfic

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littlemisspascal · 2 years

Text

Fast Cars and Lightning Bolts Part 2

Pairing: Din x Female Reader

Word Count: 2100+

Rating: T for whole series

Summary: “I’m here on behalf of Boba Fett. Suppose, hypothetically speaking, he wanted his company to win the Boonta Eve Classic. You’re one of the only racers still alive who’s done that. So I came to ask you,” she takes a breath, spreads her palms out with an air of frankness, “what does it take?”

Warnings: Racing AU, heavily inspired by the film Ford v Ferrari, dialogue heavy, language, angst, references of death but no graphic details, worldbuilding, Reader and Din are exes, No physical characteristics of Reader described except for having hair + a heart condition (I’m not a doctor, all medical details are fictional)

Author Note: Decided to officially declare this a series. A very relaxed, sporadically updated series--but still a series. Hope someone out there enjoys this 😊 All likes, comments, and reblogs super appreciated 💗

Also please note Part 3 is the original one-shot I posted, but it is now updated to better flow with the events of Part 1 and 2.

PART 1 / PART 3

The sales floor is swamped with customers and staff. Peli’s darting around each of the four corners, finalizing sales and answering questions, returning to your side every ten minutes with a new clipboard of documents needing your signature.

Sunlight filters in through the open windows of the building, a cool breeze toying with your hair, and at Ahsoka’s workstation a radio blares an upbeat tune by The Max Rebo Band. Unlike most car dealerships where employees are expected to wear fancy suits and fake smiles, you prefer a casual work environment full of car enthusiasts like yourself, unafraid to get motor oil on their hands and know the difference between a crankshaft and a camshaft without having to look on the HoloNet.

“Got a Trandoshan interested in Canary Classic and some senator’s son chomping at the bit to test drive our only Canary Moonlight out on the street,” Peli tells you, popping up at your side midwalk around the sales floor.

“Does the kid have a license?”

“I asked and you know what the little punk told me?” Peli nudges you to a halt, propping a hand on her hip with an exasperated expression that has you smirking even before she says, “He doesn’t have to show me a license because he’s Senator Blah Blah’s son. I should recognize him by his looks alone.”

You snort. “Yeah, no. Tell Senator Blah Blah’s son he either shows a license or he’s got to find somewhere else to make dumbass demands.”

Peli nods and turns to leave, only to freeze in place as a Zephyr-J motorbike pulls up outside the entrance. You watch as the rider removes their helmet, revealing a woman dressed in a black jacket with orange stripes and dark braided hair, exuding grace and strength with every movement. When you approach to meet her at the doorway, she isn’t subtle in observing you from head to toe with a quick once-over.

“Lightning Bolt?” She says it like a question, but the way her lips curl at the edges into a small grin gives you the impression this stranger knows exactly who you are.

“Depends who’s asking,” you reply, returning the smile with a cautiously friendly one of your own.

“Fennec Shand.” Her handshake is firm, professional. “Fett Motor Company.”

There’s a beat which follows the announcement, as though she expects you to have a reaction of some kind. It’s only because of your racing background you maintain your neutral expression, remembering what it was like to hide your true emotions from the press and their constantly recording cameras.

Internally, you’re about as calm as a leaf in the wind.

The thing about Fett Motor Company is that, not only is it run out of the desert city Mos Espa where the BEC is held annually, it is also owned by Boba Fett who changed his career from bounty hunter to crime lord three years ago after he murdered the previous Daimyo. You haven’t been to Mos Espa in over a year, but you’ve heard of the positive changes and improvements made to the city under Fett’s control. You’ve also heard some not-so-positive remarks about Fett cars. Their engines are powerful, almost unbelievably so considering the company’s youth, but the heavy weight and clunky shape of their vehicles makes steering a challenge and average speed on the low end compared to other cars in the galaxy.

Let’s just say, it wouldn’t be egotistical of you to claim your Canary could go around a track several laps before a Fett Rancor ever finished its first.

But even though Fett’s cars may not have much of a solid reputation, the Daimyo himself is not one to be trifled with. And the last thing you want is trouble with the crime lord, so despite your uneasiness, you direct Fennec to your office upstairs where you conduct all your important meetings.

If she does catch a glimpse of your anxiety peeking out of your mask, she politely doesn’t comment on it. Still, you linger on the sales floor after she’s left, signing a few more documents for Peli while also using the spare minutes to ready yourself for whatever it is Fennec wants to discuss. You have the distinct feeling it’s going to be a strange ordeal.

Upstairs, you find the woman observing the contents of your shelves. Old trophies and awards Peli insisted needed to be displayed so any potential business investors could see how well-established you are in the racing community. But Fennec isn’t looking at any of them, you realize upon a second glance. She’s found the only thing up there that’s of sentimental value rather than monetary.

“A pink carnation?” she inquires, studying the flower carefully preserved in a glass frame, as beautiful and vibrant as the day it was given to you what feels like a whole lifetime ago.

And that day, just like the flower, will always be preserved in your memory like this: summer heat, first anniversary, a drive down the coast, shy smiles, fingers grazing during the exchange of the pink bloom. So you won’t forget about me when you’re rich and famous.

“Long story,” you explain with a dismissive gesture, pushing thoughts of brown eyes out of your head. You then perch yourself on the edge of your desk. “Now, what brings you all the way from Mos Espa to see me, Ms. Shand?”

“Fennec, please,” she corrects, turning to face you. “I’m here on behalf of Boba Fett. Suppose, hypothetically speaking, he wanted his company to win the Boonta Eve Classic. You’re one of the only racers still alive who’s done that. So I came to ask you,” she takes a breath, spreads her palms out with an air of frankness, “what does it take?”

You lean further back on your desk a little, unable to keep your eyebrows from rising with surprise. Fennec just stares back at you. Not critically like the Twi’leks had done back at Galma, but calmly and patiently. Waiting for you to find your words on your own time.

“Well, hypothetically speaking, it takes something credits can’t buy,” you declare at last.

“Credits can buy speed,” Fennec counters.

“It’s not about speed.” You shake your head because she doesn’t understand, can’t understand unless she’s driven the BEC herself. “This isn’t like other races where all you have to do is turn left and go in circles for a couple of hours. To win the BEC, you need a car that is lightweight enough to reach 200 on the straightaways, but also strong enough to endure thousands of miles across sand and rock with limited breaks. This car has to be the best you’ve ever made and be ten times better than whatever Moff Gideon’s team shows up with that year. And if you’re lucky, that’s just what gets you to the starting line. Then your real problems start.”

Fennec tilts her head in acknowledgment, but her voice comes out a little wry around the edges. “So, you’re saying it’s challenging?”

“It’s not even a track, Fennec,” you say with thinly veiled frustration, and the woman blinks with surprise as your carefully composed mask begins cracking around the edges. “The circuit for the Boonta Eve Classic is made up of large stretches of desert plains, narrow canyons full of twists and turns, and part of the Laguna Caves underground. There are no paved roads. No safety rails. And you have to keep driving for twenty-four hours with an average speed of 130 if you wanna be a serious contender. Twenty-four hours.”

You tap your fingernail on your desk for emphasis, drilling the words into the wood. The Boonta Eve Classic was designed first and foremost as a test of endurance, separating it from all other races in the galaxy where the main goal was simply to have the fastest time. For the BEC, it’s the number of laps a car (and its driver) can handle without falling apart which determines the winner.

“It’s in the middle of summer so heatstroke and dehydration are serious risks. And then once the sun sets, half the race is in darkness. Cars and giant rocks coming up out of nowhere. An explosion of fire if the two collide. A driver stumbling out of the wreckage, bleeding buckets. Maybe they’re on fire too. Maybe they’re your friend.”

Your physical body might remain in your office, but your mind drifts back in time to the scariest, most exhilarating twenty-four hours of your whole life. The stench of sweat and gasoline fills your nostrils, a current of electric adrenaline flowing through your muscles, and your eyes burn from a combination of exhaustion and smoke billowing out from flaming vehicles. One of your closest friends, Omera Jones, experienced brake failure during her 156th lap, crashing straight into the side of a canyon. Doctors said it was a miracle she lived through it with only a broken arm as her worst injury. The fates of three other drivers weren’t so fortunate. Their deaths were bloody and horrific, and their faces, despite being total strangers to you, are forever etched into a corner of your brain.

“Either way,” your voice is quieter now, softer, weighted down with nostalgia and just a hint of trauma, “you have to keep going, hour after hour, until dawn breaks. You’re exhausted as hell, starving, can barely remember your own name or why any of this matters. And then you realize you’re flying by the Dune Sea at nearly 200 miles an hour. Anything goes wrong—blow a gasket or a tire or even a tiny five credit washer—and that’s it. You’re done. The Imperials win again. Like they won last year and the year before that and the year before that.”

You blink once, twice, three times before coming back to the present with a quiet inhale of breath. There are two sides to the BEC in your memories—-one bloodcurdling and perilous, responsible for your deteriorating health. The other extraordinary and invigorating, responsible for your golden reputation. Simply put, the BEC is as deeply interwoven with your identity as your own flesh and bones.

Fennec looks thoughtful, maybe a little thrown off balance, but at least she seems to be seriously absorbing all you said.

“So, yeah,” you tell her, offering a crooked grin. “It’s challenging.”

The corner of Fennec’s mouth twitches. “What I’m hearing is you don’t think Fett Motor Company can build the greatest race car the galaxy’s ever seen? You don’t think we’re capable of winning an event like that?” She steps closer, not unlike a Loth Wolf hoping to corner its prey. “Even if we had the best and brightest partner? Even if we wrote a blank check?”

You meet her stare evenly. “Credits can’t buy first place, Fennec. But maybe,” your crooked grin turns sincere, perhaps a little wider than usual with tentative excitement. “Maybe they can buy the woman who’ll get you your closest shot.”

Later that night, after Fennec’s long gone and your staff have returned to their homes, including Peli who’s already devising several hundred plans for Fett’s future race car, you sit behind your desk holding a torn piece of paper. It’s a bit crinkled from months spent stashed away in the back of your desk’s drawer, but the number scribbled in neat handwriting is still readable. Still makes something in your chest sting worse than a bug bite.

You rub at your forehead, declare yourself an idiot, and then punch the numbers into your comlink.

He picks up on the second ring, saying your name. His voice is marred by the crackling of static, but the familiarity of it freezes you in place. He repeats your name again in the same incredulous way, and you can picture him in his garage, oil stains on his clothes, that little crease between his eyebrows as he tries to figure out why the hell you’re calling him when you swore you’d never do it again.

“Alright, I’m going to hang up now,” Din says.

Startling back to awareness, your grip on the comlink tightens. “No, wait, please!”

He heaves a sigh, but does stay connected. You think of that bond of loyalty again, wonder if maybe you’re not the only one who still feels it. And suddenly there’s all these words bubbling in your throat you want to say to him, but the timing isn’t right, the moment too unsteady.

Choking down the words, you instead tell him, “I need to talk to you. It’s about the BEC.”

A long enough pause of silence follows you think he’s hung up, and then—

“Fine. But you’re buying me dinner.”

#din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #my fic #My writing #pedrostories

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justaredheadf1fan · 2 years

Text

Back to Marina Bay we go!

Long time no see!

So it's been 2 weeks now and it hasn't really been that quiet, am I right!? First, we have the Monaco GP renewed until 2025 at least, which for me it's great news since I love it regardless of how boring it can be most of the time outside of Quali. And then we have Yuki being renewed too but in this case for another year at Alpha Tauri. Now we only need to see if Pierre stays and the bromance goes on or, on the contrary, we get robbed of the greatest love story after Sewis.

Aaaaand the most non-shocking news was Latifi's exit from Williams at the end of the 2022 season. Now that's gonna be fun. Who will be Albon's new partner in crime?

Also, now it seems we're getting 6 sprint races instead of 3 for 2023. Are you fucking kidding me. Not even asking anymore. Just, are you fucking kidding me.

Apart from that the greatest thing to have happened in the last 2 weeks is the fact that Estie Bestie invited Mick to his birthday party with his family and they went together to Disneyland Paris. How cool is that? And they say you can't have friends in Formula 1. Check them, those are friendship goals 🥰

Lastly, but very, very importantly, Red Bull and Aston Martin suspected of surpassing the cost cap. Aston Martin vibin' spending money and still flopping gives me life. But Red Bull? I truly hope Ferrari's right AND that the FIA do their fucking jobs for once. It's time, they owe it to all of us, especially one very specific someone.

Now onto the important stuff. MARINA BAY IS BACK! And so am I, now let's see what I've missed during my busy work days.

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

Alex is finally back after undergoing surgery to remove his appendix during the Monza weekend. Doctors having to turn off the race because he was getting stress is a funny thing, tho.

Estie Bestie and Mick getting asked about their time together on the break between race weeks was quite cute, honestly.

Other than "all" that, the guys mostly talked about the possibilities and challenges of this race, so nothing else worth commenting really.

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

I don't think I've ever seen the Singapore track in the daylight. Of course, before this season I never really watched Free Practice so... There's that.

FP1 just starting and Charles already has some trouble with the brakes. Can this boy have a normal weekend??? Please????? He hasn't even done anything because of the issue with his car so far. George going against the wall, slowly at least. Good thing he knows what to do not to fuck up the car, it was so subtle. Good boy, Giorgio.

I'm not even gonna start on the commentators today, I'm not in the mood. Nothing else really happened until Stroll went sideways and crashed into the wall with the left side of his car. "So... Red Flag, Red Flag".

Lewis saying that the car is undriveable and then he gets P1, huh?

This guy!

Carlos almost crashing with everything he has against the wall, Jesus Christ boy, do you want to die?! Between the commentators losing it and the moment itself, my heart wasn't ready 😂

By the way, how cool is Seb's new helmet?! I mean!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??! It's fucking insane, I LOVE IT!!!!!!!

Anyway, so Lewis P1, STOP THE WEEKEND! I guess having James Allison there must have been effective.

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

How impressive is Singapore from the air? Whoa.

I'm trying to stay awake, at least not to postpone again watching FP2, because I know myself and having to work at 4pm tomorrow, having to FPs to see plus Quali... I won't make it 😂 I'm not making any sense, I'm aware 🤪

Giorgio my boy going against the very same spot in the wall as in FP1? Dear Lord, spare me. And Alonso almost going sideways against the wall too but in his case he always looks like he's bumpy riding or something so 😂

Latifi ranting about Pierre when Pierre clearly, after making a mistake, put the car on the side in order to let people pass? No wonder he's out of F1 next season.

Leclerc catching on pretty quickly after not even touching the track for the whole of FP1 and more than half of FP2. Leave it to Charles Leclerc. Such a guy.

OH MY GOD PIERRE. NO BARBECUES PLEASE, I NEED YOU IN ONE PIECE.

I think I might make it through FP2 without falling asleep, which is a success for today. I know I've probably left out several things I wanted to comment on here for days, but it is what it is 🤷🏻‍♀️

Lewis drifting into the weekend like he owns it, which he obviously does, as usual. That was hot even if he didn't mean or want to.

So I'm gonna do the same and drift... away to bed 😂 I can't take this anymore, I'm exhausted.

Let's see what tomorrow brings, then. Peace out!

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watercolor-hearts · 1 month

Note

Hello, lovely! A, B, J, K & U for the fanfic ask game!

Fanfic Writer Ask Meme

Hi dear ❤

Thank you so much for the questions, you made me so happy with them. (I love receiving asks and answering them.) I don't know if you know but when it comes to writing/reading, I usually talk a lot so prepare for a long post with detailed answers because I can't answer with only one or two sentences. 😃

A: Of the fanfic you’ve written, which is your favorite and why?

I can’t choose one so I’m gonna go with my top 5+1.

1. Battle Scar

I love this story bcause “nurse” George is really important to me and I love how he takes care of Alex but in the end he’s the one that ends up in Alex’s arms, needing comfort more than Alex. It’s a story I quickly wrote after seeing the interview where George shows Alex’s back injury, and for a while this story was quite neutral to me but then it became my favorite because it has almost everything I need when it comes to hurt/comfort. Also, before this, I really wanted to write a Galex story but didn’t really know how. And then came that interview, this story was born and now when people ask my favorite stories, I always mention this. It's a special one. ❤

2. Dream turned into a nightmare

I love the soft moment at the beginning, Charlos cuddling after their first time together, everything is beautiful and calm because they think they have all the time in the world because Carlos’s parents are away. Until they aren’t anymore. Climbing out on the window, panic attack, coming out, bad reaction from one of the parents, so much delicious angst. And happy ending, of course, because I don’t do sad endings. ❤

3. Safe place

Short and sweet Carlando ft. Daniel’s farm and Daniel playing songs on his guitar while Max looks at him with heart eyes. Also, campfire and marshmallows. I love how Carlos and Lando’s relationship is born in it.

4. Blood, sweat and tears

I really like this story because this was the first one where I felt I did a good job with describing frustration and anger with Charles’ relationship to Ferrari.

5. Maybe I deserve all of this

My other Galex where George cries in the hotel room after crashing out on the last lap in Singapore and Alex goes and comforts him. This story has my favorite quote. It wasn’t a question but I love talking about my stories so I’m gonna put it here: “‘You know, when people see someone crying, they usually say something like ‘please don’t cry, it’s going to be alright’ because they… They don’t really know what to do when someone cries. Nobody really teaches you what to do. (...)’”

+1 Mr. Relationship Expert

I like this one because it wasn't easy to write it, I struggled a lot at the beginning but after letting it sit a bit, I was able to write a 2k+ words story with some really nice details so it became one of my favorites. I love how Charles is there for Carlos to help him, I love the banter between Lando and Carlos, and of course I love the moments towards the end too. And it's nice to see that people like it too. 😊

B: What was the first fandom you read fic in? Which was the first you wrote fic for?

I think it was One Direction. And I started my writing career with One Direction fanfics 10 years ago. 😃

J: What’s your favorite fanfic trope? Have you written it?

Hurt/comfort, Royalty AU (especially medieval), Doctor/Medic/Nurse AU and ‘5+1 things’ are my favorite tropes. (If these are tropes because honestly I’m not sure. I tried to Google it but some websites say these are fanfic genres while others say they’re tropes.)

I’ve written quite a lot of hurt/comfort and a modern Royalty AU too, but not a ‘5+1 things’ story or a Doctor/Medic/Nurse AU so far. But I might do it in the future if I get a good idea/prompt.

K: Do you have a guilty pleasures in fic (reading or writing)?

I always joke that Brocedes is my guilty pleasure pairing because I love reading stories where they can communicate and have a healthy/close to healthy relationship (and I love the good hurt/comfort stories too) but because I joined the fandom in 2022, I wasn’t here when Brocedes was a thing/when the drama happened so I feel like I have no right to enjoy reading stories about them because I once saw a post saying that no sane person enjoys reading about Brocedes after everything that happened, and this makes me feel bad for enjoying some of the stories about them.

When it comes to writing, my guilty pleasures are panic attacks, hugs, hurt/comfort and heartbeats but I still haven’t really written that much about the latter because I couldn’t write the story I wanted as a second part to Good Effects so now I’m trying to find another way to bring my soft cardiophilia Charlos ideas into reality because I don’t want to let that one idea go for which I’ve made a fanart to and I really, really want to show it to people. They might not appreciate it that much because it’s quite specific/not a popular topic in this fandom but it made me incredibly happy that I could draw it. (And these are also my guilty pleasure topics when it comes to reading, there’s not that much difference in what I like reading and writing.)

U: Is there a pairing you would like to write, but haven’t tried yet.

I’d love to write at least one HoneyChili (Daniel/Carlos) story one day. I have an idea but I still haven’t started writing it because I always want to write something else or I don’t have time to write so yeah, maybe in the future. (I’d also like to try Gax (Max/George) one day but I don’t even have any ideas so that’s a bit more difficult. Plus I don’t really know that much about their dynamics.)

#ask game #answered asks #vicsbasement #formula 1 fanfic #my writing

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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 2 months

Text

Saudi Arabia GP 2024!

Mads' Race Recap!

Right, here we are, with another race recap. Yes, I know I said I would split these into 2, qualis and race, but I didn't. Oops. Anyway, we're going to do this in constructors again.

Red Bull - Refer to last weeks comments, I have nothing else to say really.

Ferrari - Right. Here we go. I'll start off with Charles, then I'll move onto the other fiasco. I think the overtake from Checo was inevitable in the end, the Red Bull has more pace, and Checo is great on street circuits. I didn't really see much of Lord Perceval, since he found a very comfortable spot between Checo and Oscar for the majority of the race. Very nice, brought some good points home. I like how he said in an interview (at some point after the race) that he thinks the Ferrari can have more pace later in the season. I would prefer it now, but I will wait. And fastest lap? OK my love, go for it. I saw it pop up and I thought it was a glitch on the graphics, I can't lie. He just though 'sod it, I've got space, let's go' and go, he did. Now onto my hero for the weekend. Ollie bloody Bearman that man is an absolute phenom. His first ever F1 race, some nice overtakes, did so so so well in qualis and in the race. He has gotten more points in one race than some people do in their entire career, which is quite funny IMO. Seriously though, on such short notice, he did such a brilliant job, and he is going to go far. Sad he missed out on the F2 race, and that's going to do a detriment to his points and Prema's, but he could have very well just made his career. One more thing before I move on to the other teams. Carlos. Carlos Sainz. Carlos fucking Sainz.

He drove for some reason during FP1 & 2, and I commend that, he wanted to get the job done. But, the man looked blue (the colour, not emotion). He looked so sick it was awful. Then I see the news that the poor man has already had his appendix out. I was just glad he was alright, THEN I SEE HIM AT THE TRACK?! I was just like 'Someone please put him back in bed and make him rest'. Then I see that the doctors told him to stay in bed and not go to the race. That man is a fighter, I'll give him that. And it was nice to hear from Ollie that he gave him all the tips and tricks, since it was his setup and everything like that. Hopefully, Carlos is back for Australia, but if Ollie has to drive for whatever reason, I won't be annoyed. Forza Ferrari!

McLaren - Oscar had a good race, he really tried to overtake Lewis. But, if they knew he still needed to pit anyway, why burn out the tyres and try to overtake? It would've gotten a better gap, yes, but I guess there wouldn't have been any point in just sitting back and letting him possibly gain extra time. Some good points in the bag there for them. As for Lando, I reckon if he didn't have Lewis badgering him the whole time, he would've been able to overtake Ollie for the P7, since he was lapping a whole lot faster and was on better tyres. Thankfully, Lewis actually did us a favour and kept Lando back, but Lando did a nice job. I don't know why he didn't come in under the safety car, but it didn't work out too badly for him, I guess.

Mercedes - Whatever is happening there is an absolute shit show. George stayed under the radar, just kind of driving in his big ol' empty space that he had between him, Ollie and Fernando. Lewis is really right when they have no speed in the high speed sections of the track. He did some nice defending on Oscar though, he was right to try and keep him back as much as possible, since that would have opened the space for other people to attack. All in all, Merc seriously need to sort their shit out if they want to compete for the higher places. Even then, they'll have to get through the McLarens, then the Ferrari's for those P3s that we are interchangeably giving to Charles and Carlos. Maybe P2s can be up for grabs if Checo fucks it, and maybe P1s if we get another Singapore situation.

Aston Martin - Not a bad one from Fernando, nice race from him. Instead of trying to compete with McLaren, he just let them do their own thing. He knows what he's doing. But, he was definitely in the top 3/4 for pole. Him, Charles, Max and Checo. But then he comes out bottom of the 4? He set osme mega laps, but then he just lost it. The Aston does that a lot. Lance was setting some lovely Q2 laps, but then it was like the car just said 'nah mate, I'm clocking out'. And, back to Lance. He just needed to be a little more careful. It was funny to hear his radio message, I'll admit, and I think his bringing out of the safety car definitely helped some of the others out a lot. Was I surprised though... no. Fernando nearly did the same thing, so did Oscar, but they were just a little lighter on it. Aston really has fallen, though.

Haas - Right, I'm officially a Haas girl Kevin Magnussen I absolutely fucking love you man. Matt & Tommy from P1 called it the Haasterplan. I completely agree. If Ollie wasn't driving, I would've given Kevin driver of the day. No, I would've given him driver of the year. After that first 10 second pen, he just said 'fuck it, I'm off' and just started going for it. Contact with Alex? Fine. Track limits? What are they? Do you want to absolutely send it into turn 1 again? Is that even a question? I bloody loved it. He just backed up all of those people from P11 and just let them suffer. He even ended up P12, even with the 20 seconds worth of penalties. Bloody lovely. I loved Kevin's radio just kept on going 'yeah, great one, keep it up'. Haas have found their new strategy.

Williams - Erm... not much to say? Mediocre qualis, Alex can get through to Q3 on a good day. Logan was out in Q1, this time it wasn't the steering wheel's fault. And... yeah. Wish I could say more, but I can't, really. Sorry.

VCARB/RB/REDBULLSHITTYEDITION - Daniel. Daniel Daniel Daniel. What is going on with you? I check the leaderboard, and I just see him chilling at the back. I don't even know what's going on there. And Yuki fell victim to the Kevin Magnussen Train of Terror. I honestly thought these guys were going to be your P11s-P14s, maybe with a few 10s and 9s sprinkled in there. But, I guess we have to put up with 15 and 16.

Kick Sauber - Right Valtteri really doesn't give a shit. He is quite happy just to toddle along at the back, as you do, in his little highlighter car. Good on him. I just felt bad for Zhou, I can't lie. He kinda just got stuck at the back and there was nothing he could do since the poor guy couldn't even set a quali time because his car was fucked.

Alpine - Jesus love of the lord above someone save these people. Pierre didn't even start the race, they had shit qualifying, and they have become the laughing stock of Formula 1. Estie was kind of just left to die, I guess. My delusional ass blames Pierre for a bad Charles start since his tyres were colder because he was faffing around at the back. Bullshit, I know.

#f1 #formula 1 #saudi arabian gp 2024 #jeddah gp 2024 #ferrari #ferrari f1 #mercedes #red bull #red bull f1 #mclaren #mclaren f1 #aston martin #kick sauber #haas f1 team #visa cashapp racing bulls #vcarb #rb #williams racing #alpine f1

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harleysarchive · 3 years

Text

Wolff Lady (Charles’ ending)

Song: A Thousand Years - Christina Perri

Wolff Lady Finale | Wolff Lady Series

There were a few times in Charles' life when he felt true panic, and this was one of them. When he saw the footage of you, all covered in blood, his heart sunk to the pit of his stomach.

No, no, no, was all he could think. His hands trembled and he instinctively walked towards the exit. But he was stopped by both Mattia and some other employees.

“You can’t leave Charles.”

“I have to.”

“No, it's soon race time. I can’t have you wander away now.”

Carlos was behind him. Trying to calm him down.

“No, you don’t understand, I need to make sure that she is okay. I need to know that she is fine.” Charles’ hands trembled even more when he realized that he couldn’t go to you.

“We will tell you of her condition as soon as we know more, but I need both of you back in the car.”

“Please, let me go see her.” He pleaded.

“Charles.” Carlos said and Carlos put his hand on Charles’ shoulder to guide him back to the paddock.

There was no use in arguing about this, Carlos knew that.

“They will tell you as soon as they hear any news about her, okay?”

But Charles didn’t respond. His eyes were glued to the rolling footage of you sitting on the cement floor covered in blood. He saw this over and over again. It was almost burnt into his cortex at this point. Somehow, he made his way to the car and soon the race started. He made it through the race but had no memory of it. But as soon as his car was parked in the paddock, he leaped out of it, unbuckled his helmet, and ran as fast as he could to the medical center. Only the doctor was there.

“Are you seeking medical attention?” the doctor asked.

“No, I’m here to check on (Y/N).” Charles responded.

“She’s right here.”

The doctor opened the door for him and as soon as he saw you, he felt a combination of relief and sadness. Your swollen nose reminded him of your accident, and it pained him that he couldn’t be with you sooner.

“Charles?” You said with a surprise tone. You were in fact surprise to see him here, panting like he had been running. But you were also glad that he was because he was the person you wanted to be with you now. Charles put down his helmet and knelt in front of you.

“Hey.” He said.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

“I wanted to make sure that you were okay.”

His comment made you feel all fussy inside. Your heart was pounding like a drum to have him so close to you. You smiled at him, and as he was about to take your hand the whole room was filled with the other drivers, who also wanted to make sure that you were okay. You were happy that they cared about you, but you were also a little bummed out that you and Charles didn’t have you moment alone. But soon all the drivers, including Charles, would leave in a hurry when Toto made his appearance in the doorframe. Charles gave you one last glance before leaving and it felt empty to not have him near you.

Charles and Carlos made their way back to the Ferrari building, but Charles took one last glance towards the medical center where he saw you and Toto leave it together. He felt his heart break into million pieces. But he tried to think reasonable about it.

Maybe he was only escorting you back to the hotel, he thought and tried to cheer himself up. But it was difficult. He still message you, wishing you a speedy recovery and that he couldn’t wait to see you again. A very sweet message, to keep his hopes up.

---

You had told Toto that you loved Charles back in Portugal and now the two of you were on your way to Monaco. You were super excited to be back in Monte Carlo, but you were mostly excited to see Charles again.

You and Toto exited from the airport, but you wanted to walk around for a bit before heading for the hotel. You took a taxi to the center of Monaco to have look around. There was a crowd of people and in the middle, you could make out Charles beautiful face. So, you decided to tease him a little. You walked up to the crowd and stood behind him, so he didn’t see you.

“Can I get a picture of you?” asked and tried to sound innocent. Charles who was currently writing autographs, answered with a sure. He had his sunglasses on and looked so good, you almost blushed by standing so close to him. You took out your phone, Charles turned around with his signature smile on his face and you snapped a picture of him. You pulled down your phone, which was currently blocking your face, to reveal that it was you. Charles looked stunned when he saw your smiling face.

“(Y/N)?”

“I’m gonna save this as my background picture.” You winked.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Well, we’re racing in Monaco, and you promised me to take me on a tour around Monte Carlo when we got here.” You beamed.

Charles remembered the conversation the two of you had in the taxi on your way to the track in Portugal. He smiled.

“You remembered.” He smirked.

“Of course, I have been waiting and longing for this for weeks.” You said and felt yourself blush by your boldness. Charles smiled grew wider. He took your hand in his and guided you around the town. It was beautiful and it made it even more beautiful by how Charles described everything, from where he went to school to different places he just to play at as a kid.

You couldn’t stop smiling, until you reached the harbor where he stopped for a moment to look at you. You looked so gorgeous with you bright smile and beaming eyes. He still held your hand in his.

“I really enjoyed the tour.” You said. “I hope we can do this every year when we’re in Monaco.”

You hoped that he would get where you were going with the conversation.

“I hope so too.” He said, sounding oblivious. You laughed.

“I also would love to go out on a date with you when we’re here.”

With that, Charles’ whole body froze, and he had a surprised look on his face, you could tell even if he had sunglasses on.

“R-really?”

“Yes. Charles, I do like you more than as a friend, you know.”

His silence made you nervous, maybe you had misread the whole situation this whole time. But soon he embraced you and kissed you passionately on the lips.

“I would love to go out with you. I have been dying to ask you out ever since I saw you. I love you.”

“I love you too Charles.”

The two of you shared another kiss and after that the Monte Carlo harbor would have a special place in your hearts.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc oneshots #f1 imagine #f1 fandom #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula one imagines #imagine #imagines #harleysarchive

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taurussbabe · 1 year

Note

Heyyy!! so I do not know if you are accepting requests but if you are can make Charles x reader wave she is a newly formed doctor of formula one and he does not trust her much until Charles gets hurt and needs care which forces the two to approach

It's not about liking

a/n: thank you so much for this request anon! absolutely loved writing this, hope you like it! word count: 1k pairing: Charles Leclerc x doctor!reader Tw: car crash; mentions of ferrari and their dnf's

“Hey Y/n!” Pierre said as he walked towards you, leaning in to give you a hug “How are you?”

“Hey, I’m good” you answered and greeted the French man, heading to your office. Meanwhile Pierre was talking to his friend “You still don’t like her?” he asked Charles.

“It’s not about liking, I just think that’s weird they hired someone so young and unexperienced.”

“You should give her a chance, she’s really nice” Pierre yelled before entering the Alpine garage.

You were watching the race on your office when you saw a car lose control, roll over and hit the barriers. It was never a good feeling whenever someone had an accident. You couldn’t see whose car it was, only that it was one of the Ferraris.

Soon enough, you got a call saying it was charles’ car, the call was also letting you know that he as coming for a checkup. You knew charles didn’t trust you enough and that obviously affected you, but you also knew that this was your chance to prove yourself to him.

Someone came in with charles and helped him sit on the bed.

“Ok, I’m gonna need you to take your helmet off, please, do you want me to help?” you asked softly but he didn’t answer you, just took off his helmet and balaclava.

You just thanked him and asked if he knew where he was, and what had happened and a series of other questions, ruling out concussion.

“Ok, look, I think you have some fractur here, so we have to go to the hospital.”

“We?” his voice came out rougher than usual, probably because of the scream he let out on radio and because he hasn’t even said a word since he came in the office.

“Yes, we, I’m your doctor if you get hurt on service, so let’s go.”

You were in the waiting room, you had talked to the doctors, and they were now doing some tests on Charles. Soon, a doctor came in announcing he was being put on a cast.

“Hey.” He said as he entered the room.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Better” he answered as you head towards the street, immediately feeling the cold breeze hit your face. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Oh, no problem, I was just doing my job.”

“Yeah, but your job is to be my doctor, not to be nice to me when I was a total jerk to you earlier.” A small smile crept onto his face as he said it and you realized he was truly sorry.”

“It’s fine, you were upset, I understand.”

“Well, you don’t have too, so, I’m sorry, I really am.” You smiled at him and nodded softly.

You were talking outside before saying to charles “Hey, look I actually live nearby, we can walk there and I can drive us both to track, if you want to, of course.” You offered.

“Yeah, that would be great, if you don’t mind, of course.”

He let you lead the way, considering he didn’t know the way to your place. “Hey, thanks, by the way, the other doctor may have mentioned that the fracture could have gone unnoticed easily, but you saw it, so thanks.” He knew those words meant a lot to you and made you extremely proud, yet you still remained professional.

“Again, just doing my job.” You said and shivered from the cold.

“Wear my jacket.”

“What? No, of course not, it’s yours.” He forced the jackets onto your shoulders and smiled.

“Keep it.” He smiled.

The rest of the walk to your place went easy-going, and the conversation kept flowing easily.

After you reached your car, you started driving you both to track, making a joke how ‘it wasn’t a Ferrari, but you hoped it would be good enough for him’ just to tease him. Once you reached the track, charles got out of the car and asked if you wanted any company, but you sent him home to rest, because he definitely needed it. And without even realizing it, that night he went home with a smile on his face, despite the horrible crash he had been on. Maybe Pierre was right, maybe he should have given you a chance earlier, maybe you were nice, just like he said.

After a week, you were now in Spain, travelling with the drivers, when Charles approach you.

“Hello” he said in a singing way as he got closer.

“Hi, ready to watch the race instead of being in it?” you ask him, knowing he would be pissed, but instead, he just smiled and nodded. “You only have to miss two races, it’s not that bad.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Hey, I was meaning to ask you, do you want to watch the race from the garage, so you don’t have to be alone watching it?”

“Oh, that’s very sweet of you to offer, but I have to be in the office in case someone needs me.” You could see his expression changing until his face suddenly lit up again.

“I can watch it there with you, I’m not needed in the garage anyway, if you don’t mind of course.”

“Yeah, that would be nice.” You smiled at him and he smiled back at you, his dimples appearing as he did so.

That weekend and the next one, charles joined you in your office, as you both watched the race together, earing some looks and jokes from, mostly, Pierre and Lando.

“You like her, mate, just ask her out already.” Said max as he and Lando tried, unsuccessfully, to convince Charles to ask you out.

“I don’t think she likes me, I was very rude to her before.”

“Mate, I’ve seen the way she looks at you, she likes you.” Lando said, which made him blush and look down.

“Charles” you called him out.

He turned around at the mention of his name and smiled when noticed it was you who was calling him.

“Hey, how are you?” you asked the Monegasque in front of you.

“I’m good, so much better, thanks to my amazing doctor.” You laughed before continuing with the conversation.

“Listen, I don’t know if I’m crossing any boundaries or anything, but would you like to maybe go out sometime?”

“Yes” he said very quickly, and then realized how desperate it sounded so he just said again, this time more calm “I would love to.”

Turns out, Pierre was 100% right about you, you were indeed amazing.

#charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #taurussbabe #charles leclerc fluff

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quietmyfearswith · 3 years

Text

kinktober day 4 — innocence kink

kink — innocence kink pairing —dark!niki lauda x fem!reader warnings — DARK FIC WITH SMUT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE, smut, dark!niki lauda, blowjob, degradation, forced blowjob?? degradation, innocence kink, that’s all i think?? word count — 1,446 words

masterlist | kinktober masterlist

“Oy! What are you doing here?”

She froze as she carried the car designs and alterations her father asked her to bring over, seeing as he rushed over to his doctor’s appointment, the important blueprints escaping his mind and hold. And like the obedient daughter that she was, she complied with her father’s orders.

Turning around, she was faced with the infamous Austrian driver who was currently bringing victory and pride over at Ferrari. Though with the way her father talked about his brass and blunt attitude made celebrating Niki Lauda a bit more unexcitable.

Her bottom lip shivered in surprise and hesitant with how to explain that she was not a thief or something along those lines. Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Niki walked towards her and grabbed one of the rolled up blueprints in her arms, his eyes bulging in surprise upon seeing she had one of the draft blueprints for the new adjustments in his car; his eyes snapped back to her with venom as the worst possible scenario came into his mind, “Are you trying to steal our plans to give it to that bastard Hunt?”

Tears immediately threatened to spill from her eyes as she shook her head vigorously, the several other blueprints on the floor as she frantically waved her hands around to convince him that wasn’t the case, “No! I won’t be giving them to Hunt! I don’t even know him,” A bright idea came into mind as she fished for her wallet, nervously sliding her driver’s license off from the sleeve and handing it to the decorated driver, “I’m the daughter of F/N. He’s at the doctor’s right now and was supposed to head right into work afterwards, but he realized he forgot the blueprints at home so he asked me to bring them here.”

Taking the identification card from her, he looked at the full name and picture first before taking her in, his gaze softening, “Well why didn’t you say so early on?” She shrugged her shoulders as she bent down to pick up the fallen blueprints; Niki’s eyes drifted further into her id as he looked at the other information presented there, “So you just turned nineteen?”

Standing back up once she has gotten all of the blueprints and nodded at the racer, “Yeah, this past weekend.” With that information in mind, he took a good look at her and bit his lip, “How about a tour of the garage then? My birthday gift to you.”

Her eyes gleamed up at the sound of that, nodding her head excitedly. Niki took some of the blueprints from her hands, this gave her the opportunity to wipe her eyes off the few tears that were let out. Hastily placing the important documents on the table, Niki’s calloused hand rested on her lower back as he guided her throughout the garage.

Showing her the current car they were working on, the different tools and equipment they use in order to work on the vehicle, as well as the little nook they transformed into their eating area — but on the long nights that were hard on the whole team, it also became their drinking spot.

“And this is my private office,” Niki opened the door for her but ushered for her to get in first so he had the chance to display the little “Do Not Disturb” sign he had against the wooden door that he often used for when he had important meetings with the brass.

“What would you need an office for if all you do is drive?”

So innocent, he thought as he smirked and rubbed his thumb on her cheek lovingly, “Well, my swan, when I need to meet with important people, I need a private room for that, don’t you think?”

Feeling suddenly ashamed of her earlier question, she just turned away and took in the minimal appliance and furniture he had in the office. “Do you have an important meeting you need to go to, Mr. Lauda?”

“You can call me Niki, my swan,” His one hand grabbed onto her smaller hand and presses a kiss on the back of her palm as he sat down on his leather chair, smirking at her once again as the lower height he was in gave him the perfect view of how beautiful her legs are, “And you know what? I do have an important phone call in a couple of minutes.” He raised the little post it note that contained the information about the said phone call.

Nervously glancing at the door, she then asked, “Do you want to leave me for the time being, Niki?” Her sweet-tempered eyes widened in shock when he shook his head no, his dirty blonde curls moving along — making him look even more handsome than he already is.

“How about you keep me company, little swan?”

Nodding eagerly at that, she then headed towards the couch but was pulled back by her hand, “But you’d have to kneel on the floor in front of me.” She nodded as she followed his instructions without hesitation.

While doing so Niki unbuckled his jeans and fished for his cock out from his underwear; once his cock was out, Y/N was on her knees as she was levelled directly with his cock, “To help me out with this meeting, I’m gonna need you to suck on my cock like a lollipop, okay?”

And like the obedient swan that she was, she leaned forward and sucked slowly on the tip of his cock as she slowly placed her hands on his thighs to hold on to as she slowly moved her head lower, taking him deeper.

“Such a natural at sucking cock aren’t you?” He teased as he brushed her cheek that was bulging due to how thick he was, “My innocent swan, following the big bad wolf and obeying my orders.” His remark sounded like music to her ears, hearing it as praise and not as a degrading observation.

Niki lifted the phone, pressing it against his ear, “Fuck, you took it halfway with no difficulty, little swan,” He breathily let out. Lucky that after saying those words, the investor on the other end of the phone call began their monologue which consisted mainly of information about the budget and other important details.

Every now and then however, Niki would have to remove the phone and cover the speaker with one hand as he threw his head back, pushing her take all of him as he places his free hand at the back of her head, “Fuck, little swan! You and your pure mouth have me so close.”

Curious eyes look up at him, wondering what that meant. “Niki? Are you still there?” Niki then returns his attention back to the call — as best as he can, anyways — while he smiles down at her, taking it as a hint that she was doing well and the words he said were compliments.

Niki talked on the phone as if he wasn’t getting his dick sucked beautifully by his swan; with shallow pants, he brought her head all the way until her nose was pressed against the skin that was slightly exposed when he moved his underwear down, “Take all of me in your sweet, innocuous mouth,” He ordered sternly, as he promptly ended the phone call and haphazardly slammed the phone as he continued to thrust his hips against her awaiting mouth.

Her hands were now lightly tapping his thighs, telling him that his throbbing cock matched with his thrusts were now too much for her. “Take all of me, my little swan,” He demanded her as he shoved his cock in her, feeling his cock twitch, “Be a good swan and drink up all my cum alright, baby?”

Despite the tears that were partially clouding her vision, she nodded and her eyes widened upon feeling his warm cum spill in her mouth. Being known to not do a sloppy job, Niki kept his cock in her mouth until he was sure that his cum would remain on her mouth, “Don’t let a single drop come out of your mouth okay, swan?”

She nods, opening her mouth to show that she took all of him — pleasing the driver when she did so with a smile. His thumb rubbed the outline of lips, “Now swallow it all down, little swan.”

The cum felt salty, yet with just the right amount of sweet, went down her throat and she smiled at him once again, “Did I do well, Niki?”

Smirking darkly as he leaned forward, he tilted her chin as promised her, “Oh my swan, you did so well that I’ve decided I’m going to completely ruin you and your innocence.”

#kinktober #quietmyfears #niki lauda x reader #niki lauda x fem!reader #niki lauda x femalre reader #niki lauda x female!reader #dark!niki lauda x fem!reader #dark!niki lauda x reader #dark!niki lauda x female! reader #niki lauda x female reader #daniel bruhl x reader #daniel bruhl x fem!reader

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spicysoftsweet · 4 years

Text

A Very Important Episode starring Hisoka

Or the one where Hisoka learns Bungee Gum is not a food group.

A/N: We all know that Hisoka likes candy and Bungee Gum but we would like to encourage Hisoka to make healthier choices and prevent diabetes complications. There will possibly be a part 2. I hope this is educational.

---

This time Hisoka had actually done it. He’d actually managed to fuck up his entire body beyond what he could repair with Bungee Gum or Machi’s services - which she was charging higher and higher for - and now he was somewhere almost unthinkable - an emergency room.

“Illumi~~~~” he half-sang, half-whined now that he was finally lucid, after undergoing an exploratory laparotomy to stabilize his profuse internal bleeding - the surgeons had been in awe of just how much of his body had been purely synthetic due to Texture Surprise exclaiming that he’d be an incredible case to write up - and being amped up full of pain meds. He probably didn’t need the pain meds, but it was fun to go in and out of consciousness; he couldn’t remember the last time he had an actual night of sleep.

His unwilling friend sat at the side of his hospital bed, legs crossed and focusing his jarringly large, black eyes at the fluid and blood that was being transfused into him by IV drip. A small part of him was surprised that Hisoka could be transfused with regular looking blood and regular looking fluid. He was almost sure that he was made up purely of nonsense and Bungee Gum.

“Illumi~” Hisoka moaned dramatically a second time. His gaze slid now to him, with lips pressed into a flat line of distaste.

“Don’t ever use my name as your emergency contact again.”

Illumi had to hide the fact that he was impressed Hisoka could spell clearly enough to make out the letters of his name and had actually retained his phone number. He had been surprised to get a call, but made his way over as soon as he had finished gutting an enemy and stringing them up for display as requested in his latest contract. The idea of Hisoka being dead was incredibly alarming, for he did enjoy his health and company, but also sparked a morbid curiosity in him. Could Hisoka actually die?

“But you came, didn’t you?” Hisoka teased, with a shit-eating grin.

He had him there.

There was a soft knocking on the door, and a young woman in a white coat, followed by a taller man wearing a pair of scrubs came in. The young woman glanced at Hisoka and then Illumi, visibly wincing at the hard stare of the latter in the semi-dark room, then raised her badge to introduce herself.

“H-hello, I’m Dr. Rhgyl, I-” her eyes flickered to Illumi briefly, unsettled by the fact that he hadn’t yet blinked in the past two minutes, then shifted back to Hisoka, whose devilish smile was almost more unsettling. “I was one of your surgeons and am here to answer any questions you have.”

She turned to Illumi, and gave a nervous nod of the head. “And who is in the room with you, Mr. Morow?”

“My husband,” he said, in a sickly-sweet voice. Illumi gave him a glare, then crossed his arms.

“Sure,” was all he said.

Sure, what? What is sure? Just answer the damn question... The poor young doctor’s face fell as she already knew this was something she’d have to spend unnecessary minutes during her already excessively long call night clarifying in her documentation. She turned to her nurse behind her, who gave her a small shrug.

“So uh, Mr. Morow, how is your pain?”

“It’s wonderful!”

The doctor again tried to conceal her internal screaming, and continued to keep her professional smile plastered on her face. “In that case, please let us know if you have any more pain, and your nurse will take care of it.”

“We do have one other issue, however, “ she added, making sure to communicate this next part as clearly and effectively as possible. Hisoka perked up in surprise, and Illumi continued to sit perfectly still, as still as a statue. “Your blood sugar. Your blood sugar was extremely elevated, and we were concerned about a diagnosis of prediabetes or diabetes.”

“Diabetes?”

“We expect you to make a fast recovery… surprisingly fast in fact, but we would still like you to follow up with a primary care doctor about your blood sugar. We’ll draw a lab test to check how your sugars were for the past 3 months, called a Hemoglobin A1c test, and then we’ll have your primary care doctor follow up the results and help you with strategies to have better control.”

Illumi turned to Hisoka, who he could tell that whatever the medical team was telling him was going in one ear and out the other, and he was now only thinking about either his next fight or Bungee Gum based on the elated smile on his face.

Bungee Gum.

Bungee Gum was the fucking problem.

As the doctor and the nurse finally exited out of the room and Hisoka went back to telling Illumi battle stories, Illumi started to clear his schedule in his head, to figure out when he could best drag Hisoka to his follow-up appointments, which he would have to make for him. Someone had to be the adult in this relationship.

---

Hisoka’s new primary care doctor, another similarly young woman, but less easily intimidated as the tired one from the hospital sat at a computer, pulling up his chart to review his lab results from his hospitalization.

Illumi and Hisoka noticed how she visibly paled as she scrolled, then turned to Hisoka and gave him a reassuring smile, that looked to reassure her more than them.

“What is it? Am I dead?” Hisoka asked. Illumi gave him a look to quiet down.

“Well, you’re diabetic, all right... Your A1c is 14%.”

“Is that bad?”

She swiveled in her chair to face him, hands in her lap.

“Well, diabetes is diagnosed at an A1c of 7%. So... unfortunately, yes.”

Hisoka started counting on his fingers and Illumi forcefully put his hand down.

“Hisoka, listen to the doctor. Diabetes is serious. My great-grandaunt was diabetic.” Illumi said in an even, impassive voice.

“Oh, how old was she when she was diagnosed?” The doctor asked, attempting to build rapport with the patient and the patient’s loved ones.

Without skipping a beat, he replied, “206, exactly. She loved nothing more than to unwind with Mountain Dew after her assassination missions. She ended up on dialysis.”

The doctor seemed to be at a loss of words briefly, so she turned back to Hisoka, pulling out a pen and a notepad to focus on rather than lose her cool.

“So, uh… let’s start by talking a little about what you usually eat,” she began. “What do you eat in a typical day?”

“Hm... “ Hisoka didn’t usually keep track of what he ate, so it took him some time to come up with an account. “Ah! Okay, so in the morning, I usually skip breakfast, but sometimes I’ll have some Bungee Gum.”

Odd choice, the physician thought, but she nodded and wrote that down, allowing the floor to Hisoka to speak.

“For lunch, I try not to eat too much, but I also have a couple pieces or ten of Bungee Gum.”

Hm…

“Oh and for dinner, I have a bowl of gummy candy if I’m feeling particularly peckish and also Bungee Gum.”

She looked up from her pad and paper to see Hisoka looking blissfully unaware that he had just revealed that he subsists solely on sweets. She suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to pull at her hair repeatedly. This would be a ton of education, and she still wasn’t exactly sure what exactly Bungee Gum was.

---

Illumi parked his custom Ferrari minivan, purchased entirely for this shopping trip, outside the Costco Wholesale, and gave Hisoka, a long, hard look.

“Do you have the list?” Illumi asked, hand outstretched as Hisoka handed over a partially crumpled sheet of paper, outlining the basics of a balanced, carbohydrate-controlled diet for people with diabetes.

Hisoka looked outside to the large building, then looked back at Illumi. “Isn’t this for families? I thought we were shopping for me only, and sometimes you when you come over.”

“I don’t know, the butlers told me that they come here to stock the kitchens. It seems from the website that this store provides high quality bulk goods for very competitive prices so this will be an appropriate next stop.”

This was just one out of countless stops today - Hisoka had spent the earlier part of the day searching frantically for sugar-free Bungee Gum in every supermarket in a 25-mile radius unsuccessfully, and demanding to see the manager every time, only to kill them when they told him they didn’t have his particular brand. Illumi warned him that there would be no such shenanigans any longer.

They stepped out of the car and walked right past the door greeter who was waiting eagerly for them to present their membership card only to recoil once they both turned to look at him in unison with intent to kill.

The first things Hisoka noticed as he walked in were the multiple little free sample kiosks at the aisles every so often and curiously wandered over to them.

“Make sure to avoid anything glazed or with a sauce,” Illumi called after him, poring through the list as he wandered over to the produce aisle. He didn’t understand the draw of free samples; if he wanted to try something, he would simply buy it.

Hisoka made his way to Illumi and Illumi’s overfilled grocery cart about a half-hour later after wandering the entire store, arms filled with small paper cups and tasting spoons. It was clear that he had sampled literally everything, possibly twice or thrice. Illumi let out a sigh and moved to the front of the store to check out.

Keeping Hisoka’s blood sugar low would be a daunting task, but he was determined that by the next visit to his PCP, he’d have some improvement in his A1c. Texture Surprise can only replace so many amputated limbs at once. He’d just have to buy every supermarket’s supply of Bungee Gum and possibly halt every single production chain devoted to it or something similar. A pain, but it was worth it. Hisoka was annoying as all hell, but still, he was worth it.

#hisoillu #hisoka #illumi #bungee gum #hunter x hunter #serious business #serious writing #crack fic?#remember to eat a balanced diet

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backofftubby · 4 years

Text

Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley begins.

Chapter 2: “You scared the shit out of me.”

‘Shit, that was close’ Buck thought as he stood up from his yellow SUV. It was pure luck he managed to break just in time to avoid the huge pile up that had formed in front of him because some douche driving a ferrari had decided to switch the lane at place when there was no room. There goes my day off at the beach, Buck thought, wondering how long it would take from him to get back to the apartment.

He had been living at Florianópolis, the capital of southern Brazil’s Santa Catarina state, famous for its beaches, for two weeks now. But he still hadn’t had time to actually go to the famous beaches yet, apart from working as a bartender in a bar next to a beach. Not that Buck was a beach bum really, but he really just wanted to find a nice place to enjoy the sun and get some rest, it had been a busy few weeks.

He wasn’t exactly sure how he had ended up here. All he knew was that he was sort of lost what to do with his life, so he had decided to just leave and see what the world had to offer. He hadn’t planned too far ahead. He had had a little stop at Cabo, but it wasn’t a place he wanted to stay for a long time. From there he had found his way to Florianópolis through a couple of pit stops. He liked it so far and had done a three month contract with a little beach bar. He didn’t have much experience with bartending, but he liked being around people (and alcohol) and was ready to learn. He had soon noticed the bartending skills weren’t actually the most important quality here, what really mattered were his people skills. Plus he was a natural flirt, so he had soon become a hit with the customers.

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

It took three hours before Buck was back at the nice apartment he shared with a couple co-workers, twins Adam and Cathy. They seemed nice, but Buck hadn’t had time to hang out with them much yet. That was about to change apparently, as both of them were at the condo when Buck arrived back there.

“Oh hi,” Cathy smiled. “Was the beach okay?

“I wouldn’t know, never got there. There was a huge crash blocking my way, it took me ages to get back here.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” she said sympathetically. “But you are in luck, we were just about to go Rush, join us?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s this huge inside trampoline park near here, wanna come?” said Adam who had appeared behind Buck making Buck startle.

“Shit, you scared me!”

“Sorry, but are you coming?” Adam sounded quite keen for Buck to come with them, he thought.

“Sure, why not.” Buck said smiling.

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

He didn’t regret his decision, the place was amazing! There were over one hundred trampolines in the park area, including an exciting free fall from the 5 meter Stunt Jump, which soon became Buck’s favorite. He didn’t know how long they had been there, but the way his stomach growled, it must have been a long time.

After the fun they stopped at a cozy little restaurant close by to grab some food.

“So I assume this place was a hit?” Cathy asked.

“Sure was, need to get back there asap, loved it!” Buck was beaming, still having a little adrenaline rush from all the fun.

“Maybe next time, take it a bit easier, yeah? You scared me a couple of times the way you were jumping around doing all sorts of flips.”

“There she goes again, being a mother hen... sisters, eh?” Adam said, rolling his eyes.

“I know all about them,” Buck laughed.

“So you have a sister too then?” Cathy asked.

“Yeah, a big sister,” Buck said smiling “She actually just got married before I left.”

“Oh that’s nice!”

“Yeah, I guess,” Buck said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Oh, you don’t like the guy, feel protective?” Cathy said, looking at Adam and continued “He never likes any of my boyfriends.”

“No that’s not it, at least not all. I just get this vibe from Doug, I dunno how to explain it...but Maddie was super happy on her wedding day. It was nice.” Buck said smiling.

“Besides, I don’t hate all your boyfriends, but we all know I have the best taste when it comes to guys,” Adam said, winking at Buck.

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

Eddie didn’t remember how he had run to Buck’s car. How he had forced the door open. How he had dragged Buck out of the car before it had been burned down by the flame started from the gas leak in the car next to Buck’s in the pile up. Eddie didn’t remember how he had told the paramedics first at the scene how to do their jobs. He didn’t remember how he had managed to take Christopher at Carla’s before driving to the hospital.

All he could remember was Buck’s lifeless body. The huge cut at his head which was bleeding to Buck’s white t-shirt. Eddie was pacing down at the hospital corridor, waiting for Buck to come out of his surgery and praying for the best. Rest of the 118 had wanted to be here, but the storm had wrecked quite a havoc at the city and it was all hands on deck kind of situation. Bobby hadn’t called Eddie back to work though, which now that he thought about it, was kind of weird, not that he would have gone to work anyway. There was no place else he would be right now. It was probably for the best though that nobody else was here, as Eddie didn’t need anyone to tell him to calm down. He couldn’t, not before he knew Buck was okay. Maddie had said she would be there the first thing in the morning, as soon as it was safe to drive again.

Finally, finally, Buck was brought to his room. He had suffered a concussion, broken ribs and some damage to his already damaged leg, but he should make a full recovery, the doctors had said. But Eddie still couldn’t settle, but he managed to stop pacing and sit down by Bucks hospital bed.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Eddie said, petting Buck’s hair gently. “Now I need you to wake up.” He whispered.

“Please, Evan.”

Read the chapter 1 here.

#911week2020 #day 2 #911 fan fic #fan fic #my fics #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 #911 fox #buddie #buddie fic

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