#people never die in miami | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunrizef1 · 19 days

Text

The Alchemy

Pairing: Logan sargeant x singer!reader

Warnings: Cursing

Authors note: recently realized that every time i include Logan in a fic, he gets points. That is me manifesting xx Not edited, ill edit later. Very loosely based on the alchemy by Taylor swift. This album has me in a chokehold. Also!! Tysm for 1k, I’ve been trying to think of something to do for that xx

Word count: 7.6k (took way too long, thanks Tay)

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“Do you want to go to the f1 race in Miami? Ferrari invited you.”

Your head snaps to your publicist who tilts her head with a questioning look on her face. You set your guitar down, putting an end to your idle strumming. It rests on top of your notebook filled with random lyrics and doodles.

“I didn’t know I was allowed to do that,” you reply, laying back onto the couch you were sat on, shifting to sit in the seat more comfortably.

Your publicist, Aimee, rolls her eyes at your response, clicking away quickly on her phone, “I mean, you’re one of the biggest stars in the world, you could technically do whatever you wanted. It’s just never been in your image to go to sports or whatever. But everyone is gonna be there.”

There it is, the real reason you’d be allowed to go to a race was to be amongst the famous people that Aimee would, no doubt, want you to mingle with. Mingling wasn’t your strong suit.

“Ill think about it,” you give her a tight-lipped smile which she hums in response to, sliding out of the room without another glance at you.

The second she's gone, you collapse against the leather couch, eyes locked onto the ceiling of your studio.

The real reason you wanted to think about going to the race wasn't because Aimee only wanted you to go to get good pr but, instead, it was because of your own personal connection with one of the drivers.

You'd met Logan a year ago at the previous Miami Grand Prix. Noone knew you were there and you had intended to keep it that way before you ran into the driver.

You got in fairly easy, Mercedes VIP pass wrapped around your neck. You were close friends with Lewis who promised he could get you in and out with it still remaining a secret. You had your jacket hood up above your head, hair pulled back away from your face and a pair of sunglasses resting on your nose.

You hadn't thought about how many people you knew would be there. Your eyes stayed trained on the ground for the most part, hoping that it you didn't look up, no one you knew would notice you.

Because you weren't looking where you were going, you didn't see yourself run straight into a taller figure, landing against his hard chest.

Both of you stumble back a bit from the impact and you immediately open your mouth to apologize to the man in front of you but when you look up, the words die in your throat. Your eyes trace the features of the blond man, soaking up every little detail of his pretty face. You can tell he's muscular through his blue t-shirt and your breath catches slightly.

He's speechless when he sees you as well but for a completely different reason. You may not have been in your flashiest clothes or have your usual makeup or hair but anyone with a brain could recognize you if they actually bothered to look. Your music had been everywhere for so long and Logan would be lying if he said he hadn't had a crush on you for the longest time.

When you look up at his face and see him gaping slightly in an attempt to make sure you're actually you, you grasp his hand and start to pull him along before he can blow your cover. You pull him along until you reach a quiet corner, quickly pushing him away from the eyes of other people.

He leans against the wall behind him, crossing his toned arms across his chest and you find yourself gazing again.

“So,” he starts, voice filled with humor, “What is Americas sweetheart doing at a Formula 1 race... Undercover?”

You roll your eyes but cant help the grin that starts to form from the mans words, “I'm not actually supposed to be here.”

“Oh and that's why I got dragged into a dark corner?” the man asks, grin splitting his pretty face.

You laugh but don't catch the pleased look on the man's face, “Yeah, sorry about that. Didn't want anyone to, I don't know, mob me or something.”

“I get it,” when he says it, you can't help but believe he really does get it for some reason. For all you knew, this man might just work PR for…you glance down at his t-shirt to check, Williams Racing!

“Well, thank you for cooperating…?”

The man raises his eyebrows at your questioning tone, “Logan.”

“Thank you for cooperating Logan. I know a lot of people that probably would've fought me for grabbing them like that.”

Logan laughs, head leaning back against the wall gently as the noise leaves his throat, “Its no problem. Are you in the Mercedes garage today?”

You nod at his words, glancing back out to make sure the both of you are still hidden from the outside, “Lewis said he could sneak me in.”

“He didn't do a very good job, then. If I found you out,” Logan grins, leaning away from the wall.

“Maybe not. But you're not gonna tell, are you?” you tilt your head teasingly at the blond, eyes crinkling with the weight of your smile.

He laughs again, sticking his pinky out between the two of you, “I won't, pinky promise.”

You giggle and Logan decides its the only noise he cares to hear from now on. You stick your hand out as well, wrapping your pinky around his and the two of you just stand there for a second, gazing toward the other.

But eventually, both of you seem to remember that there were time-sensitive events about to happen just about 10 meters from where you're stood. You break away from him, smile stuck on your features.

He walks away first, his grin replicating yours. He turns toward you as he walks away, pulling a hand up to wave goodbye slightly as he slides out of the corner.

“See you later, y/n,” he smirks before disappearing from view and something in you tells you you will be seeing him later.

You hurry to the Mercedes garage, having told Lewis you were there 15 minutes ago. He ushers you into his drivers room, telling you that you could chill there until the race started, only a slight bit of concern for your previous whereabouts written on his face. You don’t tell him you think you’d just fallen in love with some random teams random employee, deciding that was a bit too off topic for the currently rushing Lewis who was practically running around his room trying to get his stuff together. He wasn’t stressed since he was, of course, Lewis Hamilton, but this was the most frazzled you’d seen him

“Ill be back before the race starts,” Lewis nods toward you while he opens the door, things clutched in his tattooed hands.

“Have fun, Lew!” you call out, collapsing against his couch the moment he leaves.

You pass the time scrolling through your phone, scribbling random lyrics into your notes app and trying not to fall asleep. Lewis comes back quick enough, sneaking you into the garage with your hood pulled tightly over your hair and sunglasses sat firmly on your face.

No one spares you a second glance and if they do, they know better than to question Lewis Hamilton.

Your eyes are drawn to one of the screens above you, the drivers all stood out in a line together for the national anthem and your eyebrows raise when they land on a certain blond man. Right in front of your eyes, Logan is stood in Williams blue and white next to his teammate as the national anthem plays behind them.

Oh, that cheeky bastard.

Well, at least you now knew where to find him after the race. When the race starts, you try your hardest to stay focused on the Mercedes and cheer for Lewis but you can’t help but let your eyes trace the path of a certain blue car instead.

When the race ends and Logan’s in p8, you find yourself anxiously waiting for Lewis to get back so you can dip. You bounce passively on your heels, fingers picking at the fraying edge of your jacket. The Miami sun beats down relentlessly, making sure you stay safely in the shaded garage.

Lewis gets back quick enough, having not been on the podium this race. You give him a quick hug and a congratulations, telling him you’ll text him if you ended up wanting to get dinner later. You didn’t give him a concrete dinner plan since you had a feeling you’d be busy later.

You practically sprint out of the garage in your effort to find Logan before he leaves, missing the confused look you leave on Lewis’ face as he watches you run.

You honestly had no idea where the Williams garage was but when you see the familiar blue, you stop in your tracks outside the exit. You lean on the wall just outside the door, hoping no one will see you as they leave.

A driver in orange passes you, Oscar maybe, giving you a perplexed look as he walks by. You just dip your head farther, hoping he didn’t recognize you. Or worse, think you’re some kind of stalker.

But before the kid can call any security or ask you for a picture, a familiar laugh sounds out as someone opens the door next to you. You glance up and see Logan exiting and you reach over and grasp his wrist. Logan looks up to see you, his infinite smile seemingly stretching even wider as he see your concealed state.

“Hi, y/n,” he laughs dopily, abandoning whoever he’d been walking out with. You glance over his shoulder to see Oscar with his eyebrows furrowed and you pray any of his concern had disappeared when he saw Logan’s positive reaction.

“Hi, Logan,” you smile back, pulling him away from the garage and hopefully away from anyone at all, ending up in a corner not dissimilar to the what you had pushed him into earlier that day, “Congrats on the points. Can’t believe I thought you worked PR or something.”

He grins again, carding a hand through his sweaty hair. Your eyes trace the fireproofs he hadn’t taken off yet, trying not to ogle the muscles under the shirt.

“Thanks, I’m pretty sure both parts of those are compliments?” your eyes snap back to his and away from his chest. You can tell from the smirk on his face, he had noticed your stare and you try your best to control your blush.

As you two stand in the corner quietly for a moment, you’re surprised when Logan’s the one to break the silence.

“Do you want to get dinner later?” Your eyebrows shoot up in shock at his confidence but they quickly settle as you smile softly.

“I’d love to.”

Logan grins once again, shoulders obviously relaxing at your response, “My phones in my room… or I’d get your number.”

You laugh slightly as he leans back against the wall behind him, his own blush covering his cheeks as you giggle.

“I’ll go with you,” you state simply, shrugging your shoulders and watching as his own eyebrows raise.

“You sure?”

You laugh as he leans closer to you, “yeah I’m sure, Logan. I’ll give you my number and you can send me dinner plans and we can have a great time. Celebrate your win.”

“I didn’t win,” Logan’s face looks somewhere between a grimace and a smile. His hands moved to wrest against his hips. Right where his race suit was also sat.

“You got points. Close enough to a win in my book,” you shrug, smiling big.

Logan laughs loudly, head leaning back against the brick wall behind him and your own laugh joins his, creating a chorus of joy that wasn’t to common on these parts of the paddock.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll text you then. Come on, I need to shower,” he says to you, returning the previous favor by grasping your wrist in his and pulling you along to his drivers room. When he starts walking, you slide your wrist out of his grasp and intertwine your fingers instead, pretending not to see the grin that splits his face.

When you get to his room, you quickly put your number in his phone before exiting. As much as you wish you could’ve stayed, you had places to be and if you were going on a date, you'd need a few hours.

Logan texts you the minute you're in the car back to your place and you grin stupidly at the words on your screen, texting back quickly.

The date goes well, Logan being a perfect gentleman the whole time. He had picked a nice steakhouse he had no doubt been to a couple times growing up, considering you knew how he’d grown up. You had definitely not pulled his Wikipedia up the second your feet hit the floor of your room.

He sips his wine passively, much more interested in the stories you were telling about being on tour and the time one of your backup dancers had accidentally hooked up with one of the drivers. He offers to cut your steak for you and you let him, simply because none of your ex’s would have ever done something as small as that. He reads the dessert menu to you, asking the waiter for a second fork when you order the chocolate cake despite your objections about having your own slice. You both laugh but you shake your head when he offers to get a different piece. He picks up the bill despite your protests, sliding his card into the check and handing it back before you can even attempt to grab it from him. Then he walks you back to the car, arm around your shoulders as you try not to trip in your heels. When he drops you off, he moves to walk away from your doorstep but you’re quick to grasp his wrist, pulling him in and slamming the door behind the both of you.

That had been a year ago and you were still in love with Logan.

A year of Logan sneaking you in and out of the garage and a year of coincidentally scheduling tour shows to line up with race weekends. You’d released two albums about him. Not even your own manager knew who the songs were about. The only person who knew about the relationship was Lewis, who figured it out pretty quickly when you didn’t text him to get dinner that very first night. He was actually quite helpful in getting you in and out of the paddocks all across the world. He was pretty private to begin with so no one asked him many questions about where he was sneaking off to.

It’s not that you didn’t want to world to know about your relationship. It’s more that it was nice to have something you loved be private for once. Every boyfriend you’d ever had was inevitably mobbed by fans every time they stepped outside. Not that you were too empathetic. Half of your ex’s were contractually obligated to date you by your agency and the other half just sucked as people.

Logan was the first boyfriend you truly loved and got to choose to be with every day. Also, if your agency found out you’d secretly been dating someone and sneaking around for a year, you’d never hear the end of it and you’d probably get dropped for breach of contract, or whatever.

You didn’t tell anyone else on the grid. You would've but Logan dissuaded you after telling you that none of them could keep a secret for their lives.

So, the second Aimee left the room, your first calls is to Logan.

“Hey baby,” Logans voice echoes across the phone. You can hear a bit of exhaustion in his voice and recall him telling you he was about to work out, “Whats up?”

You can't help the heat that rises to your cheeks at even his simplest words, “Hey, are you free to talk?”

“Yeah, yeah, just finished working out with Benny,” He replies, and you car hear the beep of a car unlocking and the door opening before closing, “Everything okay?”

You hum, shifting in your seat, “Yeah, I'm fine. Aimee just asked if I wanted to go to the Miami gp with Ferrari.”

There's a few seconds of silence from Logans end of the phone before he responds, “Do you want to?”

“It’d be nice to go and not have to hide in the back of Mercedes,” you sigh, weighing the pros and cons, “But I don't want to go with Ferrari.”

“You can't pick the garage?”

“I’ll try but I feel like Aimee will just stick me in whatever garage she wants me in,” you sigh again, sinking dejectedly into the couch, “Not sure I'd get much of a choice.”

“I’d love to have you there,” you can hear the slight smile in his voice and you laugh warmly despite your previous annoyance.

“Ill try and convince her. I'll see you there Logan,” you smile, sitting up in your seat. You fiddle with a piece of your hair, glancing around the small room you're in. You weren't super confident you could convince Aimee but if Logan wanted you there, you'd try your hardest to get in the Williams garage.

Logan laughs, “See you there, babe. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Logan hangs up and you smile, tossing your phone down next to you. You're quick to pick it back up though, texting Aimee to ask if you can be in the Williams garage instead.

When the day of the Miami GP arrives and your stood in the Williams garage, its as much of a surprise to you as it is to everyone else. You had spent the past month trying to convince Aimee to let you sit in Williams instead of Ferrari. She had spent the past month telling you that it’d be better for your image to be in Ferrari.

You hadn't told Logan you’d be in his garage since, until that morning, you didn’t know you would be. You weren’t initially sure what made her change her mind but when you entered the garage and saw several celebrities almost more famous than yourself, it made sense. Of course she’d only agree to get you to be seen interacting with more a-listers. Jokes on her, though, because instead of staying in the garage for the next few hours, you decided to walk around. You were actually hoping to find Lewis in something other than a dark corner for once.

On the other side of the paddock, Logan had ended up in Ferraris hospitality after Oscar had dragged him along to meet up with Lando who was meeting up with Carlos who was meeting up with Charles who was meeting up with Max. So, in the end, Logan felt out of his element.

He chair sat slightly away from the others as they all talked about Miami, a place that Logan honestly didn’t have much to say about anymore. Maybe if someone asked, he’d say something. But he honestly wasn’t feeling it. He’d be more enthused if you were stood in his garage instead of Charles’, cheering him on. But, no, Aimee had you stuck in the red and yellow.

“Did you guys hear that y/n l/n is here?” A Spanish accent rings out from across the little circle of chairs, causing Logan’s head to snap up.

Lando’s head shoots up as well, eyes locking onto Carlos’, “You’re kidding! I love her!”

Carlos nods his head at the Brit, grinning widely, “Yeah, I heard some engineers talking about her earlier!”

Max snorts, shaking his head in disbelief, “If she was here, one of us would’ve seen her already. She’s not in either of our garages,” Max gestures between him and Charles who’s sat with an agreeable look on his face, nodding at Max’s words.

“I’m gonna ask around. If she’s here there’s no way I’m not giving her my number,” Lando laughs, already looking around for someone to interrogate. Logan has to hold himself back from rolling his eyes. Although it was weird Charles hadn’t seen you. Maybe he’d just left before you’d arrived.

“You sure she’s even single, mate?” Oscar asks the brunette man, laughing slightly as he turns around toward the Aussie with a smirk on his face.

“She hasn’t been seen with anyone in like a year and a half and there’s definitely no shortage of men in love with her. I’m about to jump on that before anyone else here snatches her up,” Lando laughs again, standing up from his chair quickly almost as if he’s about to sprint out but suddenly Lewis appears beside the little group, catching Lando before he can.

“What are you guys doing?” Lewis asks with a raised eyebrow, eyes surveying the group before they stop on Logan. Logan glances away from the older man quickly, choosing instead to stare at the ground.

“Talking about y/n l/n. Apparently she’s here and Landos so in love with her that he’s about to sprint out and find her. I’d want her number too but Lando seems more passionate,” Carlos laughs and Charles nods along with a grin. Lewis’ eyes land back on Logan with a small smirk gracing his features.

“Yeah but we’re not sure she’s even here, we all think she would’ve been in one of our garages if she was here,” Max continues, gesturing toward his fellow drivers. Logan has a sneaking suspicion he meant every garage beside Williams.

Logan grins again, pushing Lando softly back into his seat. Logan can feel the man’s gaze on his lowered head as he respond, “Well, she’s is here. She’s in the Williams garage.”

With that, Logan’s head snaps up to meet Lewis eyes and the eyes of all the other drivers move quickly toward Logan who’s too busy looking at Lewis to sink under their piercing gazes.

“She’s looking for you,” Lewis nods at Logan who’s quickly to stand from his seat, six pairs of eyes on his back as he turns away.

“Shit,” he mumbles under his breath as he starts to walk away from the group, his movements quickly turning into a run.

Back in the little circle, Lando sits with a pouty look on his face while everyone besides Lewis sits with incredulous looks on their faces. Lewis sits proudly, a small smirk on his face. Oscar is the one to break the silence.

“What the fuck just happened?”

Logan reaches the garage quick enough, hearing whispers of your name echo between engineers and PR workers alike, all mumbling about your surprising presence in the garage.

He jogs lightly over to Alex, slinging an arm around the taller drivers shoulders. The man turns away from the conversation he was having with Lily, furrowing an eyebrow at the weirdly exhausted American.

“What’s up mate?”

“Have you seen y/n?” Logan says through labored breaths, eyes tracing every corner of the building in search of a sign of you.

Alex shakes his head, glancing back toward his girlfriend, both with matching confused looks on their faces, “Nah mate, apparently we’ve just missed her.”

Logan groans dramatically, sliding away from Alex and moving toward the exit once again, correctly assuming you must be looking for Lewis. Alex turns back to Lily whose confusion mirrors his.

“What was that about?”

“No idea.”

Logan’s once again jogging through the paddock in search of you, praying he gets there before Lando can thoroughly weird you out or flirt enough to give you trauma.

His heads bowed to shield himself from the Miami heat so he doesn’t see himself run straight into someone. He reaches out to catch whoever he’s just thrown toward the ground and when he looks up he’s met with your pretty face. He’s honestly never been more relieved to see someone.

“Hi,” you smile softly as he leans you back to standing, arms still wrapped gently around your torso.

“Hi,” he laughs, out of breath from his jog. You both stand and stare in each others eyes for a moment, adoration in the air between you.

“That felt quite familiar,” you break the trance, laughing as his arms finally move away from you in order to keep a little decorum.

Logan barks a laugh, hand moving to run through his blonde hair as he glances toward the ground abashedly, “Yeah, except this time, you’re not pulling me into a dark corner.”

You glance around at the bustling people around you, realizing how little you cared about people seeing you interact. A weight feels like it’s been lifted off your shoulders at the fact you don’t have to hide your conversations around here anymore. It actually felt quite freeing.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you reply, smiling as sunlight hits the side of your face, eyes not catching the loving stare Logan is sending your way as you bask in the Miami sun.

Logan grins, eventually pulling you away from the sun as he grasps your wrist. You lean into his side slightly, keeping a reasonable distance for people to think you’re just close friends. You’d already talked about how mad your agency would be if they found out you were dating. So you both agreed interactions in the paddock would be kept to platonic.

But as much as you tried to keep them so, you could only do so much. It was hard to keep the love out of your eyes as you stared at Logan, eyes tracing the side of his face. Anyone with eyes could see how gently he held you, with all the love and care in the world.

As you arrived back at the Williams garage, Logan kept walking and pulled the two of you back into his room as quietly as he could. Shutting the door gently behind him. As soon as the doors closed, your hand is wrapping around the side of his face and pulling him down to meet him in a gentle kiss.

He smiles into it, arms wrapping around your shoulders as you walk the two of you back to the couch, both flopping down onto it. You lean back against the arm rest as he lays against your chest, the exhaustion of a race weekend finally catching up with him.

“Go to sleep baby,” you say quietly, fingers carding through his sun-bleached hair, “You’ve got more than a few hours. I’ll wake you up when someone comes to get you.”

Logan hums half-heartedly, eyes already closing as he shifts to sit against you more comfortably, sleep quickly overtaking him. You scratch his head passively as he sleeps, almost petting him as if he was a golden retriever. You slide your phone open, mumbling lyrics and rhythms under your breath. You mange to type a few verses into your phone with one hand, occasionally having to pull your other hand away from his head momentarily. Every time you did, though, he’d shift in his sleep and your hand would go right back.

It’s a few hours of this before anyone comes to disrupt his nap, the door sliding open without a knock. Your eyes catch Alex’ and you quickly raise your hand with a shushing motion, gesturing down at the man sleeping on top of you. Although, Alex seems more preoccupied with your presence than Logan’s sleeping state, mouth dropping open as he takes in you and his teammates predicament.

“The team needs Logan, they’re about to start getting ready,” Alex manages to spit out, eyes still bouncing between the two of you. You nod, moving one hand to tap at Logan’s face lightly. The man groans through his tiredness, eyes cracking open slowly.

“Teams getting ready, they need you,” you smile down at him. He glances up at you with a small smile, eventually rolling off of you to stand up with a yawn.

Only then do his eyes catch on his teammate stood by the door, shock and confusion lacing his figure. Logan just waves slightly, drowsiness still fogging his mind. Alex blinks, arms frozen to his side.

When Logan grabs his stuff and steps out of the small room, stopping to give you a kiss on his way out, Alex finally snaps out of his haze.

“What the hell, man?” Alex manages to spit out.

Logan yawns as he walks by his teammate, a hand reaching up to rub the sleep out of his eyes, “Huh?”

Alex splutters through his words incredulously, “Why were you sleeping on top of y/n l/n? One of the biggest stars in the world was just hanging out in your room!?”

Logan hums, running a hand over the lines that had appeared on his face during his nap, “That’s my girl, man.”

Alex stops in his tracks, eyes wide and mouth dropped in shock, “What!?”

Logan rolls his eyes at his teammates dramatics, dragging him along next to him and also gesturing for Alex to keep his volume down, “Yeah, we’ve been together for a year and a few months.”

“Mate, what? She’s released like 3 albums in that time,” Alex starts before he seems to come to a realization, eyes snapping back to Logan again, “Oh my god, is reputation about you!?”

When Logan concedes and nods in response, a grin break out on his teammates face, “What about Lover? Or nonsense? Or espresso? Oh my god, so many of her songs must be about you!”

Logan holds back his annoyance, blaming his exasperation on his quite recent wake up call, taking a moment to remind himself that Alex was just surprised. If this had been any other day, he’d take any chance to talk about how cool you were or how much he loved you. But after everything with Landos crush and the boys thinking you’d only ever been seen in their garages, he was honestly annoyed. Not at you, of course, just at how everyone was acting without any tact.

“Yeah, come on, the team needs us,” Logan yawns, dragging his teammate down the hall, the latter still with a stupid grin on his face.

You stepped back into the garage again eventually, eyes scanning the parts of the garage you hadn’t seen before while hidden in the corners. Of course, the Williams garage was completely unfamiliar. But you hoped it wouldn’t be unfamiliar anymore after today.

You can feel the cameras and questioning glances on you, wondering why you’d be at an f1 race, let alone Williams. Everyone thought you’d be in Red Bull or Ferrari or at the least, Alpine, since several of your athlete friends had invested.

You’re not sure what the rules are for drivers going into garages that aren’t theirs but you’re ninety-nine percent sure Lando wasn’t supposed to be here. It didn’t help that he seemed to have dragged Oscar, Max and Charles along with him.

“Oh my god, y/n l/n!” You hear the Brit call out first, giddiness lacing his words. You glance over to see the four drivers approaching, turning your gaze back to the team momentarily to check if this was allowed. There’s uneasy looks on their faces but none of them move to kick them out so you turn back to the quartet.

“Hi?” You smile with a raised eyebrow and you swear you see Lando blush. Oscar rolls his eyes as the older driver starts dramatically fanning himself.

Charles is the first person to respond normally, sticking out his hand as he leans toward you, “It’s nice to meet you, we’re big fans. Some of us obviously more than others.”

You laugh as Charles side-eyes Lando who responds by sticking his tongue out. Their interactions made sense considering you were pretty sure half of them never graduated high school. You reach out and shake Charles’ hand before dropping it as Max reaches out his own.

“I’m Max, not sure how much you know about F1,” Max states, tilting his head. If only he knew just how many races you'd been to.

You nod your head with a small smile, ignoring the way Lando is staring with a dopey look on his face, “Yeah, yeah, I've actually watched a lot of races, so I've seen you win a lot haha.”

Max smirks slightly, shaking his head. Lando frowns as Oscar elbows him and mumbles something under his breath, “She’s never seen you win, mate.”

Your head snaps toward the drivers in papaya as Lando practically tackles Oscar, putting the Aussie in a headlock. You tilt your head toward Charles who’s watching with a frown but makes no effort to separate the pair, “This happen a lot?”

He hums, nodding his head, not taking his gaze away from the thing 1 and thing 2 now on the ground in front of you, “Yeah, they’re like puppies, got to let them get their energy out somehow. No ones been seriously maimed. Yet.”

You snort, finally looking away from the idiots as you hear someone walk up behind you, Charles and Max, the latter turning around as well.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” The commanding voice of the Williams team principal rings out, causing the two mclarens to halt their movements, immediately separating as they stand up.

James surveys the little group for a few moments and you look over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of blond hair before it disappears.

“Now,” James starts, scanning the drivers in front of him, all in varying colors of team shirts, “I could probably get you all in trouble for being in my garage but since I’ve heard a lot of excitement about our guest today, I’ll let it slide.”

You looks back to the man in front of you when you hear a mention of yourself, skin heating as several pairs of eyes all look to you. You look away and back to where you’d seen Logan, hoping for a quick escape. You find him but you watch as he makes eye contact with Lando before turning away as quick as he can. Lando, on the other hand, shoots a hand out to point at the driver, moving forward toward him.

“Logan!” He yells as the aforementioned driver turns away, making himself busy with pretending to be helping Alex, “I need to know what he did to get you in his garage!”

Lando gestures at you before moving to walk past you. He only makes it a few steps before James is stepping in front of him, pushing the lighter man back slightly, “I actually believe you will all be going back to your own garages, yes? It’s almost time for the race.”

Lando frowns with a suspicious look on his face, planting his feet firmly in the ground beneath him as if challenging James to move him. Oscar rolls his eyes before grabbing the brunettes wrist and dragging him out of the room, waving slightly at Logan as he exits.

Charles and Max both wave at you as they leave but Max is the one calling out, “Nice to meet you, y/n.”

You smile at the pair, waving them goodbye. You sigh as you turn around, tiredness filling your face. James stops you before you can stalk off to your seat for the race, hands grasping your shoulders lightly.

“It’s nice to finally meet my drivers girlfriend,” there’s a knowing look on the man’s face and you open your mouth to respond but he beats you to it, “He didn’t tell me. But I saw you two in the hall earlier, the boy had love written on his face, it would’ve been hard to miss.”

You blush, looking down toward the ground with a smile, “Thanks Mr Vowles, it’s nice to meet you as well.”

James laughs, ruffling your hair as he leans away, “Have a fun day, kid. Maybe you’re his lucky charm. And you can call me James.”

You smile as you walk away, smoothing your hair back to place. You weren’t too annoyed by the antics since it was pretty windy anyway, your hair had already been going wild.

“Thanks, James. Good luck, today.”

He just nods in response before slipping away, no doubt to get ready for the race. You turn to talk to Logan but he’s already been swept up in the chaos of the pre-race so you leave him to it, finally making it to your designated seat for the day.

It’s not long before it’s lights out and away we go.

P3. P fucking 3. Logan had just gotten a podium.

You don’t think you’d ever screamed as loud as you had when he crossed the line. Luckily, Alex’ girlfriend, Lily seems just as excited as you, jumping up and down as the team celebrated around you. Fortunately, Alex had had a good race as well, finishing in fifth.

You didn’t bother wiping the tears that were falling from your eyes, too busy trying not to fall over in your expensive heels as Lily dragged you to where the team was meeting at the barriers. Sun shines brightly down on you all, painting your faces with a warming light. Williams employees revel in joy from all around you, pure happiness gracing their usually joy-deprived faces.

The crowd seems to part as you and Lily make your way to the barriers, grasping at each other tightly, trying to make sure this was all real.

Tears stream down your face, no doubt taking your mascara with them. You have to gasp for air more than a couple times, pure elation taking over your breath. You watch as the blue car rolls in front of you, slowing to a stop. Lily hugs your arm tightly, already having heard about your relationship from Alex. You see Alex’ car out of the corner of your eye but you’re too busy trying not to collapse.

Logan steps out of the car, hands visibly shaking. You can practically see the smile through his helmet as he stands on the nose of his car, the crowds of Miami cheering for their hometown hero.

He jumps down and moves to take off his helmet, gloves coming off with them. He glances around at the crowd above him, taking in the moment he gets to be the hero for once, gets to be revered. But his eyes do move away, tracing the crowd for his team.

When his eyes land on yours, another tear slides down your face and drops off into the warm concrete below you. His grin in that moment could move mountains, filled with enough pure joy to heal any aches and pains you’ve ever felt. You can’t look away from his child-like joy, having never seen him this happy in your entire year of dating. His eyes widen with a warmth you wish you could find a way to stay in forever, almost rivaling the warmth of the Miami sun.

Someone from race control tries to get him to go get weighed but he’s dropping his helmet before taking off in a run. He reaches you and before you can even say a word, he’s grasping your face in his hands and leaning down to put his lips against yours, melting into your embrace.

Screams echo around you but all you can hear is the words Logan whispers as he breaks away, leaning his forehead against yours, “I did it, baby.”

You laugh, leaning toward him as he reaches a hand up and wipes away your tears, “Yeah, you did. I’m so proud of you!”

Logan smiles, closing his eyes momentarily to take in the love between you, “Thank you for coming, I love you so much, baby.”

You tilt his head up to catch his lips in another searing kiss, hoping he can feel just how proud and in love with him you are, “I love you too, so, so much.”

You’re both just grasping at each other, praying to be able to simply hold each other for as long as you can before someone pulls him away. Unfortunately, that comes sooner than you’d hoped as someone from race control pulls him away to get weighed. You finally break from the trance he’d put you in, looking around to see Charles and Max staring at Logan as he walks in front of them, glances shared between the pair in p1 and p2.

Lily wraps an arm around you as Alex walks away from her as well and you lean your head on your shoulder, watching as your boyfriends talk after getting weighed, obvious congratulations and pats on the back being shared between the two.

You knew this would make Aimee mad, but you honestly couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were too busy being young and in love. You could always find a different agency, you were in high demand after all.

Logan’s stood to the side with Alex when Lando walks up, eyebrows furrowed deeply as he surveys the Williams drivers.

“What the hell was that, mate?” Lando calls out to Logan, confusion creeping through his outward disapproval.

Logan laughs at the Brits face, sensing a bit of disappointment in the McLaren drivers demeanor, “The podium?”

Lando rolls his eyes, running a hand through his curls, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Logan laughs again as Alex throws his arm over the younger drivers shoulder, preparing to steer the two of them to interviews, “Just kissing my girlfriend, mate. Nothing else to it.”

Lando seems to be even more confused as the Williams drivers walk away, although he does eventually manage to shout out a final sentence, “How’d you manage that!?”

Logan practically cackles as Alex snorts, knowing as much as he did that it was a miracle he had pulled you, “I’m not sure either!”

They do eventually make it to interviews and then podium, Logan sending a heart down at you with his hands before Charles and Max turn to him, champagne in hand. Logan stands there and takes it, Miami sunlight bounces off the rivulets of alcohol that cascade across his tanned skin, still hot with the warmth that had infected him during the race.

The next morning, you don’t remember much from the night before. You had gone out to celebrate with Logan and of course, it was Miami and you were known so it wasn’t too hard to find the best spots. Drinks flowed and music pumped and you’re pretty sure you were hanging out with pitbull at one point.

Logan was still asleep in your bed in your Miami home, shirt missing and a distinct smell of beer sticking to his skin. His hair was ruffled and random pieces of glitter floated around his skin. His shins were hanging off the edge of the bed and random marks littered his exposed back, scratches and bruises, no doubt your fault, painting his usually blank skin with hues of red and purple. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been more in love with him.

You slide from the bed quietly, moving toward your guitar as a sudden bout of lyrics plagues your mind, begging to be released. You strum passively as you sit out on your balcony, humming lyrics under your breath as Logan remains asleep soundly in your bedroom.

“Said it’s still reserved for me … who are we.. fight the alchemy?”

A month later, Logan’s entering the paddock, his phone clutched tightly in his hand and headphone covering his ears. He’s making his way to his garage when he’s suddenly bombarded by the same five drivers from Miami, all talking over each other.

“Calm down, one at a time, please,” Logan sighs, waiting for them to quit speaking at the same time. They all stop, Carlos being the one to speak first.

“Have you heard the new y/n song?” Carlos asks, eyes raised widely. Logan laughs as he asks it, sliding his phone open to Spotify, proudly showcasing your new song playing on loop.

The Alchemy - y/n l/n

Logan slides his phone in his pocket, walking away before Lando can wax poetic about you or complain about Logan stealing you away from him. Logan glances back to see Oscar covering Landos ears as the song starts to play from a nearby speaker. Logan laughs as Charles, max and Carlos do the opposite of helping by deciding to sing it loudly in the Mclaren boys face.

Alex watches his teammate walk up, pulling off his headphones to find the song also playing the garage. Alex laughs, leaning his head back in content, basking in the pure happiness radiating through the atmosphere this weekend.

“Good song,” Alex hums, cracking an eye open to see a wide grin split the younger man’s face.

“Thanks man, it’s about me.”

Alex laughs, leaning back against the chair he was sitting in, watching as Logan sways to the song, lips moving to the words no one else had had time to learn yet.

Alex closes his eyes again, letting the rhythm of the song and Logan’s hums take over his hearing. He wasn’t sure about your relationship at first but he honestly hoped you’d stay together just so he could see Logan this happy every weekend.

You, on the other side of the world, were listening to the song at the very same time, singing the lyrics to yourself and dancing to a song Logan had been hearing for the past month non-stop.

As you danced along, you just knew Logan was out there somewhere, dancing with you.

———————————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

#scheduled #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smau #logan sargeant x fem!reader #logan sargeant x you #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargent fluff #fem!driver!reader

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lecsainz · 1 year

Text

stuck in the elevator

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: Y/N freaking out and charles being a sweetheart, the elevator breaking down, cute french nicknames.

authors note: [SOMETHING COOL] because i really have no idea what to write here today 😭

word count: 1.1K

Charles Leclerc was in Miami for the Grand Prix, but he had to take a break from the busy atmosphere and have a moment to himself. He decided to take the elevator up to his hotel room when he saw a girl in there with him. He was on the phone and didn't pay much attention to her until the elevator suddenly shook, causing Y/N to stumble. The girl, Y/N, immediately started to panic, saying things like "I can't die yet" and "I have so much to live for". Charles found it amusing, but he knew he needed to comfort her.

"I think we're stuck," Charles replied, his eyes scanning the elevator buttons.

"What do you mean we're stuck? We can't be stuck!" Y/N started to panic.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Charles said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We'll get out of here soon enough."

"But what if we don't? What if we're stuck in here forever?" Y/N asked, her voice shaking.

Charles couldn't help but chuckle. "Trust me, we won't be stuck in here forever. And even if we were, I don't think spending eternity with you would be so bad."

Y/N blushed at his words, and Charles couldn't help but smile at her reaction.

They spent the next few minutes trying to press the emergency button and asking for help, but there was no response.

Charles leaned against the wall, "Well, looks like we're stuck here for a while."

Y/N groaned, "Great. Just my luck."

Charles looked at Y/N, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, ma chérie, I guess we'll have to find a way to pass the time then." he said, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Y/N couldn't help but feel a shiver run down her spine at the sound of Charles' french.

Y/N arched an eyebrow, curious. "And what did you have in mind?" she asked.

Charles stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair out of her face. "I was thinking we could get to know each other a little better." he said, his voice low and seductive. Y/N couldn't help but smile.

"So, Miami, huh?" Charles asked, leaning against the wall of the elevator with a curious expression.

Y/N nodded, "Yeah, I heard the Grand Prix is amazing, and I've never been to Miami before, so I figured why not?"

"Do you like formula one?" he asked surprised.

Y/N nodded. "Yeah, I do."

Charles' face lit up. "That's great! Do you have a favorite team?"

Y/N grinned mischievously. "I'm a Mercedes fan. I mean, have you seen Toto Wolff? He's a total babe."

Charles feigned offense, putting a hand over his heart. "Hey now, I'm a Ferrari driver. You're not supposed to like our rivals."

Y/N laughed. "Well, I can't help it. But I think your charming french accent could make me change my mind." Charles smiled smugly at the compliment.

"Well, I appreciate the sentiment. Maybe I can even convince you to switch over to Team Ferrari." He teased, his eyes sparkling.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, feigning consideration. "Hmm, I don't know. I mean, I don't think anyone can replace Toto in my heart." Charles laughed, shaking his head.

They sat in silence for a few moments before he spoke up again, "You know, there's something about being stuck in an elevator that's kind of romantic."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, "Really? I'm not feeling it."

Charles grinned, "Well, just imagine it. Two people, alone in a confined space, forced to confront their feelings."

Y/N rolled her eyes, "Oh please. There are no feelings here."

Charles chuckled, "Are you sure about that, ma chérie? I mean, you did say my french accent was charming."

Y/N's cheeks turned red, "I did not!"

They fell into a comfortable silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Charles picked up his phone and began scrolling through his photos.

"You know, I have some amazing pictures from Monaco," he said, showing Y/N a photo of himself overlooking the harbor.

Y/N leaned over to get a better look, her arm brushing against his. She quickly pulled away, but Charles didn't seem to mind.

"It's beautiful." she said, admiring the photo.

"It's my hometown. I was born and raised there." Charles replied with a smile.

S/N's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? I had no idea."

"Yeah, it's a special place for me." Charles said, his gaze lingering on Y/N.

As hours passed and they were still stuck in the elevator, Charles and Y/N talked about everything and nothing. They discussed their favorite movies, their dream travel destinations, and even shared childhood stories.

Charles found himself enjoying Y/N's company more and more as they talked. She was funny, intelligent, and had a unique perspective on life that he found refreshing. As the hours dragged on, they joked and laughed together, forgetting about the chaos of being stuck in an elevator.

At some point, exhaustion caught up with Y/N and she dozed off, her head resting on Charles' shoulder. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of her sleeping peacefully, her breaths steady and calm.

He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face and whispered, "Tu es tellement belle*." *you are so beautiful

When they finally got out of the elevator, Y/N woke up from her nap on Charles' shoulder, she felt a bit embarrassed but also grateful for his comfort during their ordeal in the elevator. She looked up at him and smiled.

"Thank you so much for being there for me, Charles. I don't know what I would have done without you," she said.

Charles smiled back at her. "Of course, Y/N. I'm just glad I could be of help. And who knows, maybe we can find ourselves stuck in an elevator again sometime soon," he teased.

Y/N laughed. "I think once was enough for me, but I wouldn't mind seeing you again outside of an elevator."

Charles watched Y/N walk away, feeling a sudden pang of regret. He realized that they hadn't exchanged numbers or made any plans to meet up again. He mentally scolded himself for being so caught up in the moment and not thinking ahead.

"*Merde." he muttered to himself. "I can't believe I forgot to ask for her number."*shit

But he wasn't about to give up that easily. He made a mental note to try and find her at the Grand Prix later that day, hoping to get a second chance to make things right.

As he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling that Y/N had left a lasting impression on him. He knew he had to see her again.

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x y/n #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fic #leclerc x reader

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yourimagines · 4 days

Text

Believing in you

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Triggers: bullying, online hate, swearing and fluff

Summary: Y/N is Lando’s girlfriend, she’s been there for him since the F2 and believes in him, even when it looks like he’s never going to achieve the things he really wants, becoming a race winner in the formula one.

Lando POV

It was an amazing feeling to win my first race in formula one. Everyone was cheering and chanting my name. “Lando, congratulations on your first win. How do you feel.” One of the reporters asks me as I walked back to my car. “It feels good, I don’t have words for it to be honest. I just want to smile.” I flashed them a smile and got in my car. “First stop the hotel, then the after party.” I said to myself as I drove away from the circuit. My mind wandered off to my girlfriend y/n, who was back in Monaco. “She’s probably screaming.” I smiled about that thought, her in my hoodie, screaming at the tv in happiness. Maybe a few tears involving as well. ‘She’s been here since the beginning….’

Flashback to 2018

“Come on Lando, just be positive about it. Maybe they want you to be their next driver, you’re already their reserve driver.” I just had a talk with McLaren about me being their reserve driver and test driver. They didn’t said anything about me actually driving for them, only about testing the car and being available during the race weekends. “They probably want George, just like Mercedes…” I sighed and sat down defeated. “Lan…I know it seems like the whole world is against you but I promise it’s not the case. Just don’t bring yourself down.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and sweetly gave me a peck on my lips. “I believe in you Norris.”

End of the flashback

I stopped the car in front of the hotel and got out, people were screaming at me and singing that song about me. “Thank you guys.” I waved at them and went inside. I quickly went to my room and sat down on my bed and took a look at my phone. She had texted me about how proud she was of me and that she knew today would be that day. ‘God….she’s perfect.’ I quickly send her a text message back and sent her the same picture I sent to my parents, me smiling happily at my phone while holding the trophy.

Flashback to 2019

I was nervous for my first race for McLaren. My girlfriend y/n was here to support me and so were my parents. “I believe in you Norris.” She says as she placed a soft kiss on my cheek. “Don’t get your hopes up, I’m never this good as my teammate Carlos.” She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Stop talking like this…it’s your first race of course you probably won’t defeat him but that doesn’t mean you are a bad driver Lando.” She gently brushed my shoulders before letting me go to the race track. “I’m always supporting you, no matter what.”

End of the flashback

The team picked me up from the hotel and went to one of the most popular clubs in Miami. “It’s going to be a hell of a party, I heard max is also coming.” I nodded and looked outside the car window, seeing the buildings passing us by. “Maybe Pierre as well…” they were talking about everything, the clubs, the drivers. I can’t blame them, they are just excited about my win.

Flashback to 2020

“You’re going to be on the podium today, I just know it.” She says through the phone. “I don’t know, maybe I crash and die…” I joked but she didn’t find it funny at all. “Lando! Don’t say that…it’s not funny.” She was a bit upset about the little joke I just made. “Okay okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” She only shook her head at me. “You’re on the podium today Norris, don’t be an asshole to me, you know I miss you right now.” She looked a bit sad at the camera. “I know you are, I miss you too.”

End of the flashback

I did get on the podium that weekend, my maiden third place. I was over the moon with that one but of course I wanted more. “You want an other one?” A young girl asked me as she raised her empty cup. “No thanks.” I said politely as I didn’t want her to think I’m available. “You sure? It’s free.” She gave me a wink and a broad smile. “Yeah I’m sure.” Before something weird could happen, max showed up with two drinks in his hands. “One for you.” He handed me a drink and smiled at the girl. “You okay?” She nods and disappears. “Weird, what did she want from you?” “Everything, I guess.” I joked as I took a sip from my drink. Max laughed and patted my shoulder. “Ladies man.”

Flashback to 2021

Rumours were spreading around the paddock that I was cheating on y/n with some other girl. Of course it’s not true but it did made a scar in our relationship. All the hate to me on the internet, being a shitty driver and a cheater. “I believe in you Norris, I trust you.” She says as she was helping me to pack my bags. “I know, it’s just frustrating that others see me differently.” I sighed and rubbed my face. “I’m not a cheater, you know her she’s a friend of max.” I shook my head and sat down, feeling worthless. “Hey, I know you didn’t cheat on me.” She sat down next to me, laying her hand on mine. “We’ll get through this, I love you Lando even with those shitty rumours.” I looked up at her and tried to smile at her. “I know.” I whispered as my voice faded. “Come here.” She opened her arms for me to hug her. “You’re not alone in this Lan.”

End of the flashback

It was very late when I arrived at the airport, Zak and the rest were there as well. Ready to board the plane. “I’m so dead.” I said as I sat down in my chair. “Me too buddy.” Zak said as he sat down in front of me. “What are your plans back in London? Visiting some family or friends?” I nodded tiredly as I checked the time. “Yeah, my parents first, maybe some friends.” He nods and gives me a pat on my shoulder. “You doing fine Lando, we’re all happy to have you in our team.” I smiled tiredly and looked outside the window. “Yeah…I’m happy too.”

Flashback to 2022

“Let’s move in together.” I said to her as we were building some legos together on my apartment floor. “Your serious?” She looked surprised at me as I just asked her to move in with me. “Yeah, why not?” I shrugged and went further with our build. “Omg you’re actually serious.” She throws her arms around my neck and pushes us down on the ground. “Love, of course I’m serious. You basically live here already.” My arms snaked around her body as she started to give me a few kisses. “I’m so excited to live with you, I need a job here and learn some more French.” She was rambling about everything, when she should move to Monaco and how to plan her days. “You’re going to be fine, you don’t need a job. You’re dating this muppet remember.” She giggles and shook her head. “I can’t do that, but thank you for your offer.”

End of the flashback

I landed in London and went immediately to my parents house, feeling happy but also drained by all the attention and stress. “Hello honey! I’m so proud of you.” My mom said as she greeted me with a hug. “Hi mom, thank you.” She guided me inside their house and saw my dad and my siblings waiting for me. “Hey guys.” “Congratulations son.” My dad immediately pulled me into his embrace. “Thanks dad.”

Flashback to 2023

She was there as I stood on the podium again, she was smiling happily at me. I was feeling proud to make her that happy and she made me happy too. “I’m so proud of you Lan.” She hugged me as soon she got the chance. “Thank you my love.” She placed a kiss on my cheek and smiled happily at me. “I knew you would be on the podium today.” It always feels bittersweet, being on the podium but not as the race winner. “Yeah, I’m still Lando Nowins.” She stopped smiling and slightly slapped my chest. “No, don’t listen to that crap. They are haters Lando, there are enough people like me that are supporting you.” I shrugged and wrapped one arm around her shoulders. “Whatever, let’s just go back to the hotel and celebrate.”

End of the flashback

I was a few days in London before I traveled back to Monaco, back to my girl who was waiting for me. I opened the door and before I could step one foot inside she flew into my arms. “Lan!” I almost fell as I catches her, holding her tightly. “I’m so proud of you, I knew it.” She buried her face in my neck and I carried her back inside, closing the door behind me with my foot. “I know, I knew it too baby.” She had tears in her eyes, looking so proud at me. “No more Lando Nowins.” She said with a giggle and I joined her. “You know that makes me even more proud, proving them wrong.” She nods and kisses me. “You were never Lando Nowins to me.” I smiled at her and sat her down on our kitchen counter. “I know, I’m your muppet.” She laughs and nods. “I freaking love you.” I said to her as she looked so beautiful to me, that proud feeling was there again. “I love you too Lan.”

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kindestofkings · 6 months

Text

tongue-tied (sunflowers)

lando norris x reader

dets: reader is a pro golfer, a massive f1 fan and best friends with lily muni he. will she enter her wag era?

authors note: I litch dont know a thing about golf and I know you can tell lol xx ENJOY

faceclaim: madeline argy

yourusername

liked by lilymhe and others

yourusername just wanted to assure everyone im still alive ! just working away and falling more in love with lilymhe, better watch out alexalbon xxx

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lilymhe my love !! training is always so fun with you

alexalbon heyy you're meant to say stop falling in love with me! ive a boyfriend 😑 lilymhe eh why bother :))

ynfan1 can't wait to see you in action on the green!!

ynfan2 🔥🔥🔥

lilymhe

liked by alex_albon and others

lilymhe the mixed weather has not stopped us getting some practice in! (its impossible to keep her attention when there's a gp on 🙄)

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yourusername but it's the azerbaijan grand prix! I never miss a grand prix!

lilymhe first alex now you 🙄 🙄

f1fan1 can alobono fight? CAN HE FIGHT??

alex_albon you mean i'm not the only f1 lover in your life???

yourusername oi I was the first mister ! been a mclaren fan since birth 😤 lilymhe tbf she isn't lying... ynfan1 it is sooo common knowledge that yourusername is a ride or die mclaren fan lol yourusername yeah get with it albon

yourusername

liked by lilymhe and others

yourusername home and showered in time for the miami grand prix this is a full time job !

kind followers this pact of doritos is a secret between us, got it? so if my personal trainer asks you saw NOTHING, got it?

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ynfan1 yn and lily being f1 fans is so cute !

lilymhe oooh but doritos are your sad snack ? whats happening

yourusername the fav ended in p17 😭 congrats to albonononono tho, i guess alex_albon wow could that have been anymore heartfelt ! lilymhe sush shes a mclaren girlie, don't kick her while she's down!! f1fan1 soooo me coded. its a hard time for us mclaren girlies rn.

yourusername

liked by ynfan1 and others

yourusername greens beautiful as always! unfortunately inviting alex_albon along with us backfired entirely cause albon didn't bring an papaya wearing f1 friend, so I just thirdwheeled for the day .

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alex_albon oh sorry I think oscar was busy today :(

yourusername thats not who I meant and you know it ! 😑

lilymhe at least you look cute tho!

ynfan1 im litch not a golf fan but I'm obsessed with you lol

ynfan2 I feel so seen, I recognise a lando norris fan when I see one !

landonorris

liked by yourusername and others

landonorris freshhhh

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f1fan1 lando finally past his puberty danny ric is proud

f1fan2 he so fine

landofan1 😳❤️

yourusername

liked by alex_albon and others

yourusername it's the monaco grand prix and not only am I not missing it, I'm here! thank qqqq mclaren <33

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ynfan1 ahhhh OMG I hope you meet lando finally

lilymhe babe come williams garage xx

yourusername on my way bestie! gotta tell you about the most awkward encounter EVER lilymhe 🫢🫢

mclaren so glad to have you with us today!

landonorris just followed you!

yourusername

liked by lilymhe and others

yourusername attended my first grand prix after being a fan of the sport my whole life! was so chronically awkward I'll never show my face in public again, I've turned to the drink and am hiding away xxx

unrelated: is there a support group for people who embarrassed themselves in front of their celebrity crush??

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lilymhe it can't possible have been THAT BAD

ynfan1 you looked so pretty tho!

ynfan1 also have you forgotten you're a PROFESSIONAL sportswoman yourself lilymhe they are so right ! you slay always yourusername 🥹🥹

mclaren please come join us for another weekend ! celeb crushes can go both ways you know ....

ynfan1 OH OH OH NORIZZ has a crush on you YAYYY

alex_albon leave you both unsupervised for a DAY and you implode

yourusername you said you would be my wingman, I was unprepared 😔😔

landonorris if you do find one can I also get the number to that support group?

osarpiastri please for the well being of everyone, I cannot hear a recap of this meeting alex_albon we should have stuck with the original plan and gone golfing ffs landonorris kick a guy while he's down why don't you yourusername hello ! hi guys just gentle reminder this is my comment section so I can like ... see everything.... landonorris hi 😳 alex_albon oh ffs help lilymhe

britishgq

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britishgq meets yourusername in our next edition. yn is the pinnacle of modern women, with titles like the 'people's princess' circulating. we believe it's high time for a proper catch-up.

oh, and did we mention she's currently britain's highest-ranking female golfer?

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yourusername ahh this is surreal, I had so much fun!!

britishgq 💓💓

lilymhe I say thats my bestie and I am PROUD

lilymhe a model and a killer sportswoman, someone wife her up before I do ! f1fan1 hahaha thats landos warning

ynfan1 I feel so proud omg!!

ynfan2 oh hello lando lurking in the likes

alex_albon oh?

landonorris

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landonorris have been getting some private lessons in between races, watch out carlossainz55

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carlossainz55 aye you'll need a miracle

landonorris and who says I haven't got one...

alex_albon you'd wanna start returning my calls mate

landofan1 oh hello WHO ARE YOU SOFT LAUNCHING

ynfan1 *whispers* please be yn please be yn 🤞

lilymhe BESTIE STEALER

ynfan1 ahh its SO is yn

yourusername

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yourusername golf golf golf, also I drove a fancy car and didnt crash! waiting for that call from mclaren any second now xx

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lilymhe look at you all adorable and loved up <3

alex_albon these kids are growing up so fast ! f1fan you are everyones parents xx

mclaren getting rid of our first driver as we speak !!

landonorris you are leaving out the detail that you mounted the curb...

yourusername and I can leave the detail of you out of my life if you dont watch ynfan1 HE KNOWS THE DETAILS

landojpg

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landojpg summer break well spent.

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ynfan1 I spot my hero !! must be dating if she's on holiday with the friends

landofan1 ew is lily's friend hanging out of him AGAIN?? get a job christ

ynfan1 you do realise shes a professional golfer right?? ynfan2 there's this thing called holidays ....

lilymhe please give her back to me... you can take alex!

landojpg he's not as cute tho 😔 alex_albon so you're saying I am cute tho? 😎

landonorris added to their story!

the prettiest papaya supporter🧡

replies:

yourusername ah give a girl some warning before you hardlaunch her to your millions of fans... yourusername kinda so cute tho Ill let you away with it <3 lilymhe AH hardlaunch on main danielricciardo does landonorizz have ... rizz??

_finished_

as always would LOVE to know you're thoughts! come chat about this fic or even ideas you have for my next one??

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #lando norris fanfic #f1driver!reader #smau

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layuhsblog · 9 days

Note

Hi, I'm not sure if ur still open to requests (I'm so sorry if ur not >_<) but could u do some princess treatment with nct dream bcz I've genuinely just thought of them spoiling their gfs🫶🏻

NCT DREAM GIVING THEIR S/O PRINCESS TREATMENT

its not too princessy and more domestic and 'nct dream as boyfriends'

reqs are still open, ask away babies

idk how to write diff stuff for diff members but i tried and i hope you like it. definitely very fluffy tho. and YEP THEY'RE DEF THE SPOILING THEIR GFS TYPE

warnings: very fluffy, suggestive at some places, very crack, a bit imagine based as well, i think i swore once? i dont remember, some members are too short I'm sorry i was having writers block also ITS LONG.

also cus its so long its unedited.

members drabbles under the cut

Mark:

• I feel like if you're dating Mark, your house will never be quiet, whether its with his chaotic unhinged questions, his jokes, him singing or producing songs or just his playlists playing in the background. especially if you're the type to always need some kind of background noise while doing chores- he'll make you like a thousand playlists for every mood, every chore etc.

He'll even make you a personal playlist with secret songs only meant for you to listen, even if the lyrics are highly unhinged like;

"Yoyo my girls cookin, and she's hella goodlookin yoyo" just for you to laugh at his silly antics even when hes away for too long.

• I dont see him as someone who'll get you flowers cus I feel like he will get sad when they die. He'll stay up at night when youre asleep finding origami videos to make you paper flower bouquets. Each date a different type of flower. Even goes out of his way and googles what flower signifies what feeling, literally befriends a flower shop owner.

• He once called them at 4am to ask what flower means "I'm sorry, I messed up. Please don't break up with me." The phone hung up on his face ofc. Your argument was about mint chocolate and pineapples on pizza. You obviously wouldn't break up with him for that. (He hopes)

•You definitely have a specific closet filled w those paper flowers. He has never given you a handmade bouquet of your favourite flowers cus he plans on doing so when he proposes to you, hiding the ring at the bottom of the bouquet. AHH IM SOFT

•Personal Spotify, he'll sing you to sleep whenever you tell him to, whatever you tell him to.

•You once had an argument with him in public and he asked you how he can make you forgive him so you made him sing 'Welcome to Miami' infront on random strangers

•OH I FEEL LIKE. If you're on a picnic. He would take help from his members (the 127 hyungs. Dreamies are hopeless I'm sorry) and make you both a bento. Imagine your surprise when you opened the picnic basket and saw two lunchboxes one was spiderman and the other was hello kitty.

"Mark, this is so cute. But yknow I like spiderman too right?"

"WAIT WHAT DUDE, YOU DIDN'T TELL ME. YOUR FAVOURITE MOVIE? YOUR FAVOURITE SPIDERMAN? OPINION ON NO WAY HOME."

I've said this before and I'll say it again, Mark's the type of boyfriend to snatch a jar from you, tell you he got it and fail miserably. Most of the time when you DO have a problem opening a jar and you go to him..he gulps nervously.

"I, have to go to the bathroom. Be right back."

"Mark- ...you took the jar with you.."

You know where this is going.

"JOHNNY HYUNG, QUICK LOOSEN THIS JAR SO I CAN IMPRESS ____"

"LOOK BABE, I'M SO STRONG."

"Baby, I know you asked Johnny to help. But thankyou! Yes you're very strong."

To sum it up, being with Mark is dorky and comforting and you love that man with all your heart.

Renjun:

•I see Renjun as the type to do princess treatment stuff with you together.

•Like Idk how to explain it- you both spoil eachother. Your nighttime skincare takes you both HOURS because instead of doing like sane people, you do it on EACHOTHER, explaining every step of your routine to the camera (the mirror) in a fake accent.

•If he sees you painting your nails, he gets offended because he's your personal nail tech.

I definitely see him as the type to tell you,

"Gurl, that watermarble is a disaster. Let me do it for you." and he does a better job than you.

"Silly girl, this is why you should always let me do your nails. Don't even bother."

•He's adorable, if its your birthday or you achieved smtn big at a job or at uni he would celebrate it with you. Decorate your room with pink balloons and stuff, get you a tiara and a sash- like a true princess, get you a pretty dress to wear. Click your pics and share it on his close friends story.

You love it. You saved that same tiara for his birthdays and achievements and crowned him your princess. CUTIES

•Allows you to do his makeup while you're sitting on his lap on one condition, you don't click pics.

Once he grows into it though-

"Hey! Blend that foundation properly, my neck and my face are two different shades."

You show your puppy eyes to him he's cracking. Lets you take as many pics as you want, doesn't say shit when you post it. He's soft for you.

•I dont see him as a very verbally expressive partner, he'll show you through his actions, like the one time a family member of yours was very sick and admitted in the hospital while he was on tour.

•You were continuously crying on call and it was late where he was. He knew you had trouble sleeping for a few days as you were staying at the hospital with them. He flew in to surprise you and had a mini date in the hospital cafeteria. He made sure you ate and you both took a walk around the building after dinner as he comforted you and gave you advice on how to deal with everything going on.

He stayed in the room, looking after your family member as you showered and slept soundly after forever. You felt bad as he was jetlagged and tired but he scolded you and forced you to sleep.

You woke up to the sound of the door opening and the nurse greeting your relative the next morning. There was a note propped up on the couch you had slept in,

'Had to fly back baby :( Call me anytime and I'll be there. My girl comes first always, I love you<3'

•Oh your family loves him btw, he had also got a get well soon card and a bouquet for your relative.

You were gonna marry this man, you were sure of it.

•Overall he scolds you when you don't take care of yourself and always puts your needs first before his and trusts you fully to do the same when he needs it, and you will<3

Jeno:

•This is so random, but I really see Jeno as the type of boyfriend who bakes for you?

•its just a you and him thing. When you started dating, you were at his dorm and got hungry and night. So he decided to make you a mugcake? It tasted like rubber but you ate it anyway ans reassured him that it was really good. (It wasn't)

HE WAS DETERMINED TO ACTUALLY LEARN HOW TO BAKE FOR YOU.

•Y'all know that guy on tiktok who bakes for his gf?? THAT'S HIS INSPIRATION RIGHT THERE.

•Experiments each recipe on Jaemin before making you try it. Why do you think Jaemin hates strawberries? Its HIS fault.

•Yknow how...Jeno is so buff and sexy?? His favourite part of going to the gym is sending you post workout bathroom mirror selfies. (YES THAT IS SPOILING. SHUSH)

•He also definitely seems like the type to call you princess. If you hate that nickname? He doesn't care he'll call you anyway cus you ARE his princess. You eventually grow into it.

•Definitely the type to wake up no matter how late it is if you need anything. You're hungry? He's up and running ready to cook, go to the convience store or order food for you. Anything his princess wants. You got your periods? You think he already doesn't have your necessities stacked in the dorm bathroom already? Pads, tampons, everything- even if you're on cups, he'll always keep them ready for emergency purposes and incase the other dreamies have their girls over and they need it. Your bf is a gentleman yes. You love it.

•PASSENGER PRINCESS PRIVILEGE. You'll always be connected to the Bluetooth. You never have to drive ever in your life again. His favourite part of driving is you screaming out the lyrics of ur new favourite songs.

He will never tell you how tired he is of listening to the same song over and over and over again. Even if his ears feel like bleeding from listening to the same song again, he'll hold back his tears and just smile. He loves you but he's not a big fan of your music.

"CUS TONIGHT WILL BE THE NIGHT THAT I WILL FALL FOR YO-"

"For the love of GOD- Y/N IF I HEAR YOU SING THAT EMO ASS SONG ONE MORE TIME I'M ACTUALLY GONNA RIP MY HAIR OFF."

"You're so quiet babe, what's up?"

"Huh, nothing... just focusing on the road.. You keep singing, I love your voice hehe."

•Yknow how much it annoys him, youre testing his patience to see when he'll tell you to stop. He wont tho babe, he's getting tortured, stop please. (I unironically love that song)

Haechan:

•I think he's the most princess to ever princess which is why he's perfect at giving princess treatment.

•Also hes very clingy, wont leave you alone for even a minute.

•One time you were cutting fruit with a new knife you had just bought and cut your finger on it. He was so annoying with it;

"NOOO MY BABY GOT AN OUCHIE! NO DON'T TOUCH IT. I'LL GET A BAND-AID. DON'T MOVE."

"Hyuck, its just a small c-" He pecks your lips to shut you up and runs to his room. He runs back and to your surprise shows you a hello kitty band-aid. You laugh at that to which he pouts and claims that "it hurts less with this specific one"

Doesn't even let you wash the cut yourself. He washes it for you, puts antiseptic and lastly puts the bandaid on your finger.

He proudly admires his work and when you thank him he "kisses your ouchie" to which you cringed out for a solid five minutes.

•He's the type to say, "I GOT IT" to everything you're about to do.

Opening a jar? He's got it. Opening your apartment door after a date? GASP YOU JUST GOT A MANICURE, HE'LL DO IT. Reaching for the shelf to grab a mug? He's got his Johnny hyung to get it for you cus he can't reach it either.

•He absolutely thinks it's his job to make you laugh. You literally cannot laugh at another guy's jokes now. Mark is an exception tho, he'll fite you for Mark. How dare you not laugh at a stupid joke Mark made.

•Speaking of fite, He'll let you win all playfights. This is how you know shit is srs between y'all. Haechan is competitive. But he'll let you win. I know its an unpopular opinion.

•Especially if you don't have much in common with Haechan and start showing interest in gaming and ask him to teach you, he'll go very easy on you. Yknow, set his pride aside, let you win a lot of games before actually becoming competitive with you as well. Still he won't ever admit it even years after being together- if you have a particularly bad day, he would let you and not make it very obvious, even if you call him names and make fun of him for being a loser, he'll just have a lovesick smile on his face and stars in his eyes as you're doing a dorky winner dance for beating him.

The 127 boys are very proud of their maknae, he's surely grown a lot. You're both still incredibly immature but they love you together.

•Oh the only down side is you're always competing with Renjun.

"Blink twice if you love Renjun and Mark more than me"

*blinks twice*

"We're done."

"NO. I LOVE THEM BUT I ALSO LOVE YOU. DON'T MAKE ME CHOOSE PLEASE."

•You love him too much to get mad at the fact that he still didnt choose you

Jaemin:

here we go..

my bias wrecker.

•YOU CANNOT DENY He's going to be the best boyfriend ever.

•You want to put ribbons on him? he bought you those himself. the pinkest of pink ribbon for you to tie his hair, biceps, _anything_ with.

•He loves making you flustered.

•Will check up in you every second of the day.

"Did you eat yet? Slept properly? Drink enough water?"

•Nags at you like a mother.

•If you're studying for exam or just working from home in general he'll pop up to check in on you every five minutes with coffee, freshly cut up fruits, chocolates etc.

•If you're too busy to eat, he will pull a chair and sit beside you, stare at you while you work and feed you occassionally.

•When you're tired he'll give you a massage and draw you a pretty bath with rose petals and scented candles and stuff.

•He cannot say no to your puppy eyes. He loves cats but you're the reason he has three.

•Also the type to get jealous of the cats, AND you if you're not giving him attention. He doesnt know whether he wants to be at your place or the cats'.

•HE COOS AT YOU. A LOT. ANYTHING YOU DO. "AIGOOO MY BABY IS SO ADORABLE *insert incoherent wooing noises as he pulls your cheeks* and you're just there like- '🧍😀'

•If you're on a date, you don't even have to ask. He'll already have his camera ready, suggest you cute poses and click pictures for your Instagram. He'd stay up late to edit them himself.

When you're with Na Jaemin you cannot have a blank looking Instagram.

•Overall hes the sweetest and absolutely adorable but he also has a babygirl to take care of. (He himself is a babygirl)

Chenle:

•Oh hes SPOILING and hes SPOILING BADDDD

•Another one to call you princess.

•I saw a reel of him asking his nephew for a kiss before handing him money. THAT'S SO ADORABLE OH MY GOD MY HEART HE'LL DO THAT WITH YOU TOO.

•Even if you're not the type to accept gifts or ask for money he'll MAKE SURE you get used to it because he JUST LOVES SPOILING HIS PRINCESS

•If you're going for a spa or to get your nails done or any type of self care activity and you DONT ask him to pay, he gets mad. he'll sulk, wont talk to you.

"What's the point of being born in a rich family and working hard to earn a living if my girlfriend doesnt want to spend my money?😔"

"CHENLE, I CAN BUY MY OWN GUM FOR GOD'S SAKE. HOW BROKE DO YOU THINK I AM?"

•He loves you so much. Every night when he does his skincare, you're sitting on the bathroom sink and hes doing your skincare as well.

•Another nagger who will ensure you're hydrated and wellfed, keeps track of your period.

"Hello?"

"Open the door, I know you're on your period, I got you heatpacks, pads and chocolates. Let's watch Hamilton and cuddle."

"Lele, marry me."

"Pick your diamond, baby."

AAAAHHH I AM GOING FERAL.

•But, we all know chenle is so much more than just a rich guy, he'll sing you to sleep and stroke your hair whenever you're stressed

•He may be mean and nagging and annoying sometimes but hes such a huge huge softie for you its crazy. Everytime you walk into the room, its all music and wind blowing and time slowing for him. Cliche lover boy and I'm here for it.

•He loves you so much, if you pout at him he'll be on his knees at your service doing anything and everything you tell him to...even aegyo.

"HEY YOU TOLD ME TO DO AEGYO, YOU CANNOT CRINGE OUT NOW. I'M CUTE!!"

Jisung:

•MY BOY PAINTS YOUR NAILS FOR YOU, MESSILY

•He also tries to learn how to cook for you. The first time he cooked, the food tasted like dish soap cus he thought vegetables had to be cleaned with soap.

•Eventually gets better and cooks very comforting meals. They taste like home, you love it. Yknow the type of food that's not too fancy but its warm and make your heart feel full.

•Thats also what loving him would feel like. He wouldn't go OUT and extreme but whatever he does is warm and fills your heart with love for him more everyday.

•Occasional flowers, gets you chocolates/cookies/ice cream everytime you hang out.

•Lot of movie dates, he'll always let you pick the movie. You'll always be the small spoon

•Oh he always pulls your chair at a restaurant. Also has a habit of putting his hand under your shirt and just holding your stomach when cuddling, makes him feel closer to you. Same with hugging, when you hug his hand peeks under your shirt so hes touching your bare back. It's nothing sexual, it's just intimate.

•He would always purposefully leave his hoodies at your place so you dont have to steal them. He's too shy to admit he left them on purpose. Also does it cus if you stole his hoodie, his poor heart wouldn't be able to handle it. It would probably combust into flames.

"You forgot your hoodie at my place."

"Oh shit, well its okay, you can take it. I don't wear it much anyways." and you're just there thinking,

'That's your favourite hoodie man, you'd rot in it if you could.' You don't tease him about it though. Its cute to you that he trusts you with his favourite hoodie.

•He's the type to be jealous of your plushies but then would also go out of his way to buy more for you. He gets sad if you buy new ones.

In his logic, if he buys them for you, he's the father and the kids will be loyal and know their place. But if you buy them, they'll be too greedy to share you with him. Oh please, he talks to trees don't tell me things like these wouldn't cross his mind.

•He loves it when you ask him to pay for dinner cus you usually split the bill. He realised he loves it a BIT TOO MUCH, makes him feel all alpha-protecter, big boy and would start demanding that he pays for dates more often.

Unlike Chenle he's cool with it if you don't like it, he'll turn it down a notch.

•He just wants you to be comfy and he'll always stick to his boundaries while also keeping an eye on you, making sure you're okay, comfortable and happy with him.

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heliads · 1 year

Text

You Agreed to This

Pierre Gasly has a reputation for flirting with anything that breathes. You have a reputation for being scarily focused on racing. When Charles, Lando, and Esteban get it into their heads to dare Pierre to get you to fall in love with him, the results can only be tragic.

a/n: i was frustrated when i couldn't find fics with this vague plotline like two months ago and then i remembered that i can simply make them myself. anyway this is my longest fic to date (6k+ words), enjoy!

masterlist

The whole affair started in the recesses of the Alpine motorhome, too far from prying eyes and chances to stop before it got bad. Miami is boiling hot as per usual, it gets to Pierre just like it always does. He’s trying to fend off the heat by hiding somewhere deep within his team’s complex, team jacket stripped off somewhere on a nearby sofa and fans cranked on high.

It was just Pierre at the beginning, but drivers tend to flock together in times of heat related stress, and now there are four of them sprawled across floors and furniture in an attempt to alleviate their suffering. Charles found Pierre first, just like he usually does, then Lando followed after media duties were over, and Esteban was last, claiming that if this many rival drivers were there he had a right to die in his own motorhome too, god damn it.

Pierre has mixed thoughts on that. He has mixed thoughts on quite a lot, actually– the blistering temperatures are getting to him, swirling memories into fact into fiction. He’ll get his head in order when it comes time to race, but that won’t happen until tomorrow, once qualis are in order and they’ve all been shunted around for the grid lineup.

Across the room, Lando groans from the shadows of a functionally decorated armchair. “This is miserable.”

Pierre gives him a look. “Your complaining is miserable.”

Undeterred, Lando keeps up his protests. “We should do something fun. Pierre, don’t you know like a thousand people here? Invite someone over.”

Pierre snorts. “I don’t know all of Miami, Lando. Go to sleep or something.”

Esteban chuckles. “Could have fooled me. Didn’t you tag, like, a hundred people in your latest Instagram story?”

Pierre turns his head to glare at his teammate. They’re still supposed to be friends as of three or so months of being racing partners, but apparently that association doesn’t go so far as requiring Esteban to defend him. “Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”

Charles shakes his head, grinning. “It’s the truth, let him speak. You have connections.”

Lando flings a dramatic arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight pouring in through the windows. They’ve all been shut with the blinds pulled down, of course, but some warmth has a way of coming in regardless of what anyone wants. “Pierre’s just sociable like that. He could win over anybody. Or flirt with anybody.”

Pierre rolls his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Norris.”

Charles arches a brow. “What would he be jealous of, your losing streak? I saw you strike out trying to talk up Margot Robbie last time we were in Monaco, don’t lie to me.”

“That was different,” Pierre protests, “she’se literally married, what did you expect?”

Charles coughs pointedly. “Yet you flirted with her anyway. Anyways, don’t argue. You can’t flirt with everybody. Not successfully, at least.”

Pierre leans forward cautiously. “What does that mean?”

Charles laughs. “There’s one person you could never charm in a thousand years.”

Pierre sighs, answers Charles’ unspoken question in time with his friend. “Y/N L/N?”

“Y/N L/N,” Charles confirms, and the other three drivers break into identical grins.

Pierre can accept defeat on that front. Y/N L/N is the only female driver on the grid at the moment, and anyone can tell why she made it despite the odds mere moments after meeting her. She’s crazy intense, more dedicated to racing than even Max or Lewis. Pierre wouldn’t be surprised if she could win a driver’s championship in the next year or two. Talk to her once and you’ll be stunned that she hasn’t done it yet.

Every time Pierre, or any other driver or spectator for that matter, has tried to chat her up, they always end up shut down faster than you can spin out on a slick track with the wrong tires. She doesn’t have time for any of them. The girl lives and breathes and dies for racing, she’s not going to let something like a boy get in her way.

This only makes Pierre more tempted to keep up with her, of course, but he learned a long time ago that was a lost cause. The only reason Y/N would ever look twice at him is if he was a place ahead of her during a race, and given her knack for overtakes, that doesn’t happen all that often.

Lando sits forward, and Pierre decides that he doesn’t like the gleam in the younger boy’s eyes. “Say, I’ve got a great idea to stave off boredom. Pierre, go date Y/N.”

Pierre almost chokes. “Are you insane? Just like that, go date her? How would that help you in any way?”

Lando spreads his hands. “If it would be so easy for you to flirt with anybody, how about you prove it? Surely Y/N isn’t so far out of your league. You’re both in the same line of work, at least you’ve got that going for you.”

Pierre opens his mouth to fight this. He may have a bit of a cocky streak, sure, but he’s a driver, who amongst them doesn’t? Just as he starts to get himself out of this, though, Esteban speaks up instead.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Pierre couldn’t even come close. None of us can.” Esteban says it like a fact, and that’s all it takes for Pierre to change his tune.

“You know what?” He says, feeling his adrenaline start to kick in, “Sure I can.”

Charles’ eyes widen. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m always serious about girls,” Pierre says, causing a ripple of groans to cascade around the room, “This time I am, at least. I’ll win her over, no problem.”

Lando sits up. “If you’re really doing this, we’ve got to set some rules.”

“Such as?” Pierre dares him to continue.

Charles taps a thoughtful hand on his leg. “It has to be more than a one time thing. Just a single conversation could be a fluke or her feeling bad for you.”

Outraged, Pierre starts to fight that, but Lando picks up the thread of the conversation before he can cut it short. “That makes sense. We have to be sure that she’s actually in love with you. Like, get her to kiss you or something? And pics or it didn’t happen. We need proof.”

Pierre snickers, trying not to feel like control is slipping out of his hands with each passing second. “Anything else? Want me to name our firstborn child after you?”

That makes Esteban crack up. “That’s a little extreme, don’t you think? We’ll settle for being named godfather. All three of us collectively.”

Pierre shakes his head incredulously. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Charles slaps him on the back. “You have to believe in yourself, Pierre. If you don’t, she’ll never fall for it.”

And so Pierre Gasly gets himself stuck in the con of a lifetime. Is it going to work? The odds are abysmal. Will he make it, though? Well, Pierre never likes to back down from a challenge. He’s not going to let this one get away from him so easily.

The sun is bright and the morning is tense in the paddock. You arrived early, earlier than most of the drivers, all so you could get a taste of what the track was like without anyone breathing down your neck. Some would call you a little too eager, others would say you’re plain stressed out and nothing more to it.

You’d give yourself a little more credit than that, though. You know exactly who you are and what you have to prove. The more time you give yourself to plan and acclimate, the less time there is for mistakes.

That isn’t to say that you ignore all the comments on your pre-race habits. You are well aware of your reputation, even proud of it. You wear it as a second skin, a racing suit, a livery specially designed to flaunt your own achievement. The whispers of those out and about in the world of motorsport follow you wherever you go, dogging your footsteps until you half expect to leave streams of words behind you instead of burned rubber.

That’s Y/N L/N. The one who only cares about the track? The one who lives and dies for racing? That’s the one. That’s the one.

There’s not much else to it. So what if you tend to be a little more intense than most? Being serious is the only method of survival available to you. You can be sweet and fun, play yourself off as the ditzy girl who only got in so her team could capitalize on brand deals, or you can be a woman without a feminine bone in her body, so far from girlish she chokes whenever she sees the color pink. Both are awful alternatives, so you choose the only one you can: ignore every box they try to push you in until everyone else gives up. Let them whisper. At least they aren’t trying to change you anymore.

That’s how you’ve navigated the paddock up until now, the entirety of racing life as you know it. It’s worked out in your favor, or so you’d say, at least. You push yourself on and off track. You answer the unfair questions they throw at you. You solve the mysteries of why someone is taking an involvement in your affairs and come out on top of any possible rumors.

There are mysteries, though, and then there’s the latest one, which is why on Earth Pierre Gasly has taken to following you around the paddock. They all did, at the start; the drivers, the fans, the interviewers, even the team bosses, all staring at you like you were in a circus exhibition. A girl in motorsport? Couldn’t be. Yet it is.

That’s mostly drifted off, though, the attention gone once they realized you weren’t interested in belonging to any of them. Most of them did it unintentionally, of course, and the few who got too close on purpose quickly learned they would get nothing from you. Pierre learned that himself, or so you thought. That doesn’t stop his attention from surging up again all of a sudden.

It’s been a solid few weeks of this behavior, and you’re still no closer to understanding it than you were at the start. If you were to put an initial date on this whole affair, you’d maybe say everything began back in Miami. All of a sudden, Pierre, who up until now had accepted that you weren’t interested in him even if he didn’t like that all too much, had decided to renew his affections once more.

Where you had been content to walk briskly through the paddock by yourself, Pierre is suddenly a few feet behind you, always ready to offer a bottle of water when you need it or issue a joking comment when you seem in need of a laugh. He’s playing his cards carefully, always disappearing the moment you start to take his presence for granted, but why, you cannot tell. Everyone here has a motive. Surely Pierre Gasly has one as well.

You weren’t willing to trust him at first, ignoring him throughout the Miami race and all sessions at Imola. The only angle worth your while is your own, and maybe your constructor’s, too. Still, he stayed. That has to count for something.

And, when the end of a race finds you absolutely desolate after an engine failure, that starts to count a little more than it would have before. This race is early enough in the year that the DNF doesn’t have to sting too much, but all you can think about is how you just gave Max, Charles, and the rest of the title competitors the leg up they need to beat you out.

It’s not a good feeling, to say the least. You find some empty corner of the paddock where you can be alone and let your emptiness consume you. That was your plan, at least, but you’ve only been able to wallow in your own misery for about ten minutes or so before someone else joins you. The only other driver to fail to complete the necessary laps: Pierre.

Pierre may not have had engine problems like you, but that doesn’t make him any luckier. George Russell spun wide on a turn and took out Pierre before righting himself again. George got off relatively easy for a crash, only needed to swap out some tires and his front wing, but Pierre took the brunt of it and ended up in the barriers. You heard him swearing, frustrated, on the radio after the race; the commentators loved that one, even if he didn’t.

That leaves both of you in the same undesirable position. Pierre arches a brow as he takes in the sight of you: legs pulled up to your chest where you sit slumped against the wall, expression hopeless and all ambition gone for the moment.

“Mind if I join you?” He asks, “I’m trying to hide from Sky Sports.”

You gesture vaguely at the open floor next to you. “Feel free. I'm not too thrilled about hearing from them, either.”

Pierre collapses in an untidy heap of limbs by your side, pulling at the collar of his race suit so he can unzip it down to his waist, leaving only the long sleeved shirt clinging to his skin. “At least engine failure is something you can’t control. Everyone’s been all over me trying to get me to admit that I should have seen George coming.”

You wrinkle your brow. “That wasn’t your fault. He braked late, it was obvious.”

Pierre glances over at you, clearly fighting a laugh. “Obvious, huh?”

You look away, wondering why you feel embarrassed all of a sudden. You don’t lie when it comes to racing, why bother? Thanks to the vast supplies of driver cameras and radio clips, there’s no point in glossing over what everyone knows to be true. Still, Pierre has a way of making that feel like something you should think twice about, like maybe not all of your attitudes towards drivers and their habits are things you should speak freely on. Maybe some things can be kept just to yourself. Maybe some drivers are beginning to verge beyond mere functionality as competitors.

“Everyone saw it,” you justify, “bad timing, that’s all. Not something you could control no matter how much space you gave him.”

Pierre nods solemnly. “The engine wasn’t your fault either, by the way. There was nothing you could have done to make it work again. You can’t limp through a problem like that.”

You tilt your head back, staring up at the ceiling above you. “I tried, though.”

“I know,” Pierre says. They’re only two words, but for some reason they make you feel better than any of the minutes spent listening to your engineers’ speeches on how they would fix that issue by the next race.

Judging by the slight smile on Pierre’s face, he must know that too. When the seconds stretch into minutes and you never tell Pierre to go, that smile only deepens. The conversation leaves the race eventually, and you end up talking about silly things like movies you’d like to see or places you want to go but never have. You don’t know that you’ve ever spoken to another driver like this before. You don’t know that you could with anyone else.

You have to leave that corner eventually, called away by a team principal with apologies in order. Pierre departs around the same time, claiming that he can’t run from the interviewers forever. You steal one last glance at him over your shoulder as you go, and can’t help but notice the grin on his face. It’s broader than before, proud of something; what, you can’t tell. Despite the fact that both of you have failed out of the race, you still get the feeling that Pierre has won at something more than you today.

Charles releases an Instagram post later that day of him, Pierre, and a few other drivers out at a club. You see it, and spend too much time wondering how long you have to wait after a photo is posted to like it so it’s not weird. What you don’t see is the conversation that happened later, how Pierre triumphantly told the rest that he was closer than they’d ever believe. You don’t see it, and the next time you see him, you stop to talk with a ready smile.

So it goes the next race, and the next one, and the next. Pierre is there. So are you. You end up finding him eventually; as time goes on, it’s not just Pierre seeking you out but the other way around, too. It’s even, both of you wanting each other just as often as the other. Eventually, you have to admit defeat to the voice in the back of your head telling you that you might have misread Pierre after all. Maybe he’s not just a horrific flirt. Maybe he can be a friend.

And, leaning over the railing of Pierre’s room in the Alpine motorhome so you can feel the gentle wind on your face while you stare out at the paddock, you think you would be alright if there was something more, too. You swore to yourself you’d never even think about another driver in that way, too scared of all your efforts to distinguish yourself from everyone’s expectations for female drivers being for naught, but it might be okay if it was Pierre. Pierre is different, nothing like the rest. It would be alright if it was him.

Pierre stands by your side, back straight and posture perfect as he surveys the mess of people milling about some floors below. “Nervous for the race?”

You tilt your head to the side, considering the question. “As much as anyone, I guess. I like this track, though. Should be good.”

Pierre nods, smiling at that. “And what about me? Am I going to be good, too?”

You roll your eyes. “You don’t need me to tell you that.”

He doesn’t; this is one of Pierre’s best tracks. He should be up for a podium or at least high in the points if everything goes according to plan.

He just grins. “Indulge me.”

You give him a pointed stare, then head back into the room. “You’re an ass.”

Pierre follows. “You love me, though.”

A pause. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” He asks, unable to disguise a slight shine of surprise from entering his eyes, like despite all the luck he’d had recently, Pierre still didn’t think he would get this far.

You lift your shoulder in a half-shrug, unwilling to commit to anything further. You feel as if you’re standing on a lake frozen over, aware that any wrong move could shatter the ice beneath your feet.

Pierre moves towards the door, and for one horrified moment you think he’s actually going to leave right then and there before you realize he’s closing it instead. He turns back once he’s sure no passersby can see you, and then he’s kissing you and you can’t worry about anything else. Not even the race. Not even the threat that this might send you spiraling until you’re so lost on him that you won’t be able to think straight for the rest of your life.

He leans back at last, smiling at you with the same smile you think you saw on a podium on Monza when he first won a race in F1. “We could have done that earlier,” he whispers, not daring to disturb the quiet victory of the room.

“We could have,” you answer him. Every driver hates losing time. This is no exception.

Your head is light with the most wonderful feeling, and then over Pierre’s shoulder you see something strange. He left the door open. Cracked halfway, even though this door is notorious for never staying open right. He would have had to try to keep it like this. He would have wanted it to be that way for a reason.

Pierre’s phone vibrates and he grimaces, murmuring something about having to talk to one of his engineers before slipping out of the room. He kisses you one last time before he leaves, a quiet touch pressed to your cheek. He takes great care to ensure that you do not see the message blinking up from his screen, and when he goes, you notice that he does not have to turn the knob, only pull open an already ajar door.

Something is wrong. The longer you stand there, alone in Pierre’s room, the more you start to think, and what you think about is not good at all. The timing of the text message. The look on his face when he left. Nothing is adding up.

Voices drift to you down the hall as you stand there wondering, Pierre’s among them. You walk slowly forward, unable to fight a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach like something is about to go very, very poorly. You usually trust your instincts. As it turns out, they won’t be wrong now.

Pierre is standing in a meeting room down the hall, talking in hushed voices to a few other drivers. As you draw closer, you recognize them. Charles, closest; Lando, eyes wide; Esteban, even, staring in disbelief. All three are telling Pierre replications of the same sentiment, which is that they cannot believe he actually managed to do it.

Get you to fall in love with him, they mean. Fulfill the dare, they explain. Like they all agreed a few months ago. Back in Miami, the three of them dared Pierre to get you to fall for him, and like the overconfident, thrill seeking diehard flirt that he is, Pierre agreed.

Worse: he did it successfully. You know, you had been wondering if this was too good to be true. Looks like it was. All that time you were letting Pierre into your heart, and he was manipulating you into falling in love. How pathetic. How incredibly soul-destroying.

The four drivers look up when you shut the door to the meeting room behind you. Pierre is the first one to notice it’s you, and you don’t ever think you’ll forget the look on his face when he realizes that you know the truth. His entire expression contorts with horror and his hands rise by his sides, trying to force your heart to stay unbroken. Pity it’s too late for that.

“Y/N–” he begins, a little too loud, a little too desperate, “wait– it’s not what it sounds like–”

“Actually,” you say coolly, “I believe that it is. You three dared Pierre to get me to fall in love with him? That’s exactly what it is, right?”

It’s not a question. Charles, Lando, and Esteban have realized you’re here, too, and they wear similar shades of Pierre’s alarm. Charles opens his mouth to say something, perhaps to explain himself, but you cut him off.

“Don’t even try. I know what you did, I don’t want to hear your terrible reasoning for why you thought this was okay. I’m going to go back to my motorhome and we are never going to speak of this again. Don’t talk to me in the paddock. Don’t talk to me at all unless we’re in a media event and you have to. I never want to speak to any of you.”

Lando interrupts, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Y/N, don’t you think that’s a little extreme? It was just a prank, that’s all. Just a laugh.”

Pierre looks like he’s fighting back deep irritation at that. You just arch one brow. “Just a prank to humiliate me? You disgust me. All of you.”

You let that silence their arguments and leave the room. You think Pierre might have tried to follow you out, but Charles blocks him. You hear the Monegasque’s voice spilling out into the hall as you leave, telling Pierre not to try it. She obviously doesn’t want to see any of us anymore, mate. Best to leave it be.

You wish it was that easy for you. It takes everything in you to make it to your private room in your team’s motorhome and lock the door behind you before the tears finally come flooding out. You’d like nothing more than to fly home and spend the next several days and nights comatose in your bed, but, as if things weren’t bad as is, there’s still a race tomorrow, so you won’t be able to go anywhere for at least twenty-four hours.

The lights go out, the chequered flag waves some time later. You’re not entirely aware of what happened in that race, nor of how you were able to drag yourself out of your room and back to the starting grid, but you blink once and you’re on the podium, so evidently everything worked out. You watch the clips later, the commentators are all in shock. They haven’t seen you race so aggressively in years. It bordered on cruelty.

Pierre, by contrast, had his worst race in months. It seemed like he was hardly in charge at all, more like the car was controlling him. He wasn’t even in the points. No one can understand it. You refuse to think about it any longer.

Another race weekend comes and goes. The interviewers are confused– wasn’t it just last week that you seemed so much happier than you are now? You’re surly in press conferences, answering questions in a clipped and emotionless tone. They’d say you were totally checked out were it not for the fact that you’re still getting good results.

They don’t know everything, of course, but some of the more eagle-eyed reporters are starting to put the pieces together. What’s up with you and Pierre Gasly? Someone asks one day, Weren’t you two good friends recently?

We’re drivers, you reply, Aren’t we all used to pretending things are better than they are?

When you see Pierre after that press conference, he looks dizzy, totally unsteady on his own feet. You don’t meet his eyes. You’re not sure that it’s guilt, but it feels something like that anyway. Everything is wrong.

Pierre is asked about it later, of course, and he’s a little more candid than you were. He never names names, just says that things happen sometimes, things he wishes he could take back. Pierre has to take a moment to get himself together after that to answer the next question, a fantastic display of emotion. How charming of him to wear his heart on his sleeve when he’s just ripped yours out of your chest.

The pattern repeats the next few weeks. Pierre, Charles, Lando, and Esteban try to talk to you on multiple occasions, but you brush them off with nothing more than a well-placed glare and some good avoidance tactics. Even then, you should have known that your cold shoulder couldn’t last forever.

Of course it would be Charles who gets you at last– if there’s anyone on this entire damned grid who could get why you are the way you are, it would be him. Il Predestinato knows what it’s like to have the entire world expecting something of you, and he doesn’t lie easy because of it. Charles finds you late as the sun is setting and won’t let you avoid him forever, even though you try.

At last, you give up and stop making him chase you around the paddock. You’re sitting at a table outside your motorhome, shaded by a sunbleached umbrella and sipping at a bottle of ice water long since turned lukewarm.

“He regrets it, you know,” Charles says by way of introduction.

You refuse to raise your eyes from your intense study of the bottle’s printed plastic label. “He’s going to have to do a lot better than sending his best friend to talk for him, then.”

Charles scoffs. “Oh, come on. You know you haven’t let him get close enough for that.”

Your water bottle receives a very irate glare. “Wonder why that would be.”

Charles sighs. “We were wrong, we all know that. It was a stupid thing to suggest and even more stupid to keep it up that long.”

You look at him at last, anger gone and replaced by mere disappointment. From the way Charles shifts in his seat opposite you, you think that might be an even worse threat for him to face. “Then why did you keep it going? If you knew it was so wrong? Pierre was committed to your prank for weeks. Why didn’t any of you call it quits?”

“He didn’t want to,” Charles admits, “not because of the dare, because he liked being around you. Did you know he was mad at us the day you caught us? He didn’t want us anywhere near that room. Told me privately it’s because he wanted the first kiss for himself, not for anything related to the dare.”

That makes you go silent. The fan whirs overhead, pushing your thoughts around in slow circles somewhere above you. “That makes no sense.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” Charles grumbles, “Happened, though. Regardless of what he thought at the start, Pierre doesn’t want to hurt you. Not anymore.”

You turn towards him. “Is that supposed to make how he felt at the start okay somehow?”

Charles shakes his head. “No, but it makes the ending better, I think.”

He’s right. You lean back against your seat, contemplative. Charles takes this as his cue to leave. He pauses once before he’s out of range, then calls something else back to you. “He’ll kill me if he finds out I told you that, by the way.”

You can’t fight a laugh. “I won’t tell a soul you’re on my side.”

He smiles at that. You’ve missed him, you realize, him and the rest. You thought distance would save you from feeling quite so badly about all of this, but it just cut you off from your best support. Charles disappears into the crowd, a bright flare of red in a multitude of shifting shades, and for the first time since that treacherous discovery, you start to wonder what it would feel like to forgive.

Pierre is in an awful state. So Esteban has told him about a thousand and one times, at least, each utterance delivered with the same derisive snort. Pierre knows he’s supposed to bounce back from this, pretend it was all just a prank, but he’s known better for months now. It might have been a prank the first day, even the first week, but not after that.

Here is the problem: Pierre, in all his cocky eagerness to show his friends up, failed to consider that Y/N might be able to charm him as well. He might have gone a little overboard in his attempts to make her fall in love with him, perhaps even to the point where he fell in love instead. He isn’t sure when he first realized he had feelings for her, but Pierre is more than certain it was before Y/N discovered she felt the same way.

What a ruin to his reputation. Pierre hadn’t minded, though, not when they were still on speaking terms. He liked the way they could talk for hours, how Y/N’s guard slipped when she started to trust him. She had a way of smiling when she was sure no one was about to stab her in the back. Pierre misses that. He’s sure he’ll never see it again.

Unable to stand Esteban’s dismissive attitude anymore, Pierre picks himself up from where he’d been wallowing in misery on the floor of the Alpine motorhome. He doesn’t know where he’s going yet, only that it needs to be somewhere without a single soul in sight. Still, when he passes aimlessly through the halls and almost runs into another driver, he supposes he should take it as a testament to his distracted mind that he doesn’t realize it’s Y/N until they’re already standing still and staring at each other.

Too late, Pierre remembers she hates him. His eyes drop to the floor and he mumbles an apology, ready to keep moving. She told him not to speak to her anymore; Pierre can hardly fault her for that, and he won’t use his presence as a weapon if that’s the one that will cut her the deepest.

He is surprised, then, when Y/N reaches out to stop him before he can get too much farther. Pierre looks at her hand locked around his, then back up at her.

“Wait,” she says, “I want to talk to you.”

“I thought that wasn’t happening anymore,” Pierre says. It occurs to him that it probably sounds cold, but she speaks before he can try to explain what he meant.

“Things have changed,” she says.

That’s enough to convince him to stay, if not for the feeling of her fingers still on his than anything else. He doesn’t miss the way her gaze keeps flitting from him to the occasional Alpine aide walking down the halls, and to save her, Pierre jerks his head towards a door down the hall.

“There’s an empty room to the left, we can talk there.”

A brief flash of relief crosses her face, and Y/N lets Pierre lead her over to the room. He leaves the door open to give her an easy escape, but she closes it after her anyway. No onlookers. Maybe that’s for the best.

Y/N sits down in one of the chairs, legs crossed, arms folded. She may be here with him after so long, but that doesn’t stop her from throwing up all her walls, even the physical ones. It hurts to remember how easy it had been to be with her that last day. Pierre plays those moments on repeat in his head– the balcony, the breeze, the words, the kiss. He can never stop the later scene from following, how her demeanor had changed when she realized the truth. He didn’t think he could hurt one person that badly. He was wrong.

She’s still silent, so Pierre assumes it’s on him to start talking. “I’m sorry,” he begins, “I know that’s not enough, but it’s true. I was stupid. I should have told you before–”

Regret clogs up his throat and he can’t choke out a single syllable more. Y/N looks suspicious. “Before the kiss?”

“Before anything,” Pierre clarifies, “when we were talking at the beginning. I never should have let it get so far. Doesn’t mean I minded when it did,” he remarks half to himself, “but I should have done it on my own terms.”

When he dares look up at Y/N again, he swears she seems slightly more open, but that could just be his wishful thinking. “Do you mean what you said in the interview?” She asks suddenly, “Do you wish you could take it back?”

“Yes,” Pierre says in a rush, “I want a do over. I want to do it right. I would have done all of it without ever talking to Lando or Esteban or Charles first. I would have done it for me.” His voice is quiet. “I would have loved you without making it a lie.”

Y/N’s eyes are wide, but she isn’t afraid or angry. “Second chances come around more often than you’d think,” she whispers.

“Even for me?” Pierre asks.

She nods once. “Even for you.”

They’re both on the podium that day. His race engineers can’t explain why Pierre’s luck has suddenly had this tremendous turnaround. He can. She can, too. Sometimes your heart likes getting in the way if it knows you’re doing something wrong. It’s a good thing, then, that he’s finally doing something right.

She’s waiting for him once the interviews are over. They’re both exhausted, half drunk on the champagne in the air and wholly pleased with themselves. The sun goes down, and Pierre is happy. It is just as easy as that.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly imagines #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly oneshot #f1 #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 oneshot #f1 pierre #f1 pierre imagines #f1 pierre x reader #f1 pierre oneshot #formula one #formula one imagines #formula one x reader #formula one oneshot

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lisired · 2 months

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yani, 22, she/they

⤷ 18+ blog primarily for long nct fics. masterlist below. no requests.

⤷ revehae is my side blog where i write evil little stories that normal people will find off-putting.

KEEP ON

⤷ JOHNNY SUH, 13.6k

All things love and commitment are feared upon by you. You keep a tight crew and let few people in, cynical of other’s intentions and leaving a trail of broken hearts in your wake. If you break other people’s hearts first, they can’t break yours. And yet, it was all too easy falling for Johnny, digging yourself into a depthless hole of love. But he is no exception to your heartache games.

WAITING GAME

⤷ JOHNNY SUH, 9.1k, 1/4 of the Temptation series.

Your best friend’s dad is a smoking hot dilf seeking vengeance after you’ve spent the past couple of years teasing him, but it seems that you can’t handle a taste of your own medicine.

LITTLE DO YOU KNOW

⤷ LEE TAEYONG, 14.9k

After three years away from Miami, Taeyong is finally ready to return to the city. He left a world behind here, but most importantly, he left you. And being invited on a friendly get-together trip to a beach resort gives him a little too much time to resume unfinished business between you both.

DRESS CODE

⤷ NAKAMOTO YUTA, 7.4k, 3/4 of the Temptation series.

Nakamoto Yuta and his rings have caught your eye. In an effort to seduce your professor, you decide to take your best friend’s advice and change your wardrobe. You’re given an advantage when Yuta’s son asks you to tutor him, and it’s like Satan is handing you opportunities on a silver platter - but at what cost?

VENOMOUS

⤷ NAKAMOTO YUTA, 18.8k

Born into the underworld, crime was all you’d known your entire life and was practically in your blood - murder, drugs, money, power, and everything in between. In spite of your father leading one of the two major gangs that dominated Asia, you managed to keep safe. But all that changes once the rival gang has bad blood to settle with your father, and suddenly a vendetta’s being pursued against you.

WHISPER

⤷ KIM DOYOUNG, 8.9k, 2/4 of the Temptation series.

When you were nineteen, you could only dream of meeting Kim Doyoung in his sheets. Behind his back you watched all the movies he starred in, wanting nothing more than to be the one he touched whenever a sex scene came on. So when the opportunity surfaced four years later after you’re casted together in the same movie, you didn’t hesitate to snag it - even if it meant hiding from his wife, your father, and the public. And even if feelings developed.

DIE IN YOUR ARMS

⤷ JEONG JAEHYUN, 22.4k

Every single night before bed, you play your royal husband, Jaehyun, a song on his grandfather's piano as a distraction from the ominous sounds you hear. To the public, you're all smiles, but discreetly, you're a slave to your suspicions. Though it seems the more you pry, the more secrets you start to unravel.

HONEYMOON AVENUE

⤷ JEONG JAEHYUN, 12.3k

A year ago, wedding bells were ringing and you were screaming, “Yes!” at the top of your lungs. Last Christmas, you were supposed to be wed under a mistletoe. This Christmas, company finds you in the form of your ex-fiancé that broke off your engagement after you’re both inconveniently trapped in an elevator.

WHERE ANGELS FEAR TO TREAD

⤷ JEONG JAEHYUN, 14.5k

Three years ago, you had a summer fling with Jung Jaehyun, and what was simply sex turned into more after you caught feelings for him. Then, you find out he has a girlfriend, and decide to call it quits. Three years later, he's back in town, trying to come back in your life, and most importantly trying to come back into your heart, but you're a little hesitant to let him.

WISH I NEVER

⤷ JEONG JAEHYUN, 27.2k

Your brother, Johnny, hates Jaehyun and has never told you why. Although you intend on leaving it alone, unforeseen events thrust you into a forbidden love affair with Jaehyun. In between hookups and stolen kisses, you have to bury your feelings for Jaehyun around your overprotective older brother.

CAN YOU KEEP IT DOWN?

⤷ MARK LEE, 10.4k, 4/4 of the Temptation series

The apartment next door to yours has been vacant for months. No one had gone in or out, not until your new next door neighbor moved in two weeks ago. Mark, a slightly older guy who prides himself on his patience and willpower with a penchant for control. But when you make it clear you’re resolved to wither away the things he values most, Mark decides he’s down for the challenge, determined to put a leash on your unrestrained behavior - and most importantly, finally shut you the hell up.

EX MARKS THE SPOT

⤷ MARK LEE, 19.9k

Two months ago, you and Mark called it quits and haven’t spoken to each other since. As per tradition, your respective friend groups gather each Christmas eve to keep the peace, but this year somebody has a different plan. And the new chick on Mark’s arm isn’t the worst thing to happen.

PRETTY LITTLE WEAPON

⤷ MARK LEE, 25.7k

A lifetime worth of adversity had brought you to Bloodlust. You joined them to escape your history, but with Mark Lee - an undercover narcotics agent with a secret to keep - comes the threat of being forced to confront your past. Old wounds are opened, but scars heal.

CHANGE YOUR MIND YET?

⤷ LEE HAECHAN, 4.6k

You’re going to kill him. You swear, You’re going to kill him. how did Liu Yangyang accidentally tell Lee Donghyuck—your greatest enemy—that you think he’s hot and that you’ve been in a dry spell recently? Now you have to avoid the inevitable confrontation, and worst of all, deal with the most stubborn person alive (who ironically thinks that you’re the most stubborn person alive).

FOREVER YOURS

⤷ LEE HAECHAN, 23k

Thirst for exhilaration and a stupid dare brings you, your boyfriend Haechan, and your friends to the eerie camping grounds of Chimera - the name of a town rumored to be occupied by a number of vengeful, lurking spirits. But nothing is as it seems in this ghost town.

LOVE JONES

⤷ LEE HAECHAN, 25.5k

After breaking off your engagement to your fiance, you move to Los Angeles to pursue a modeling career. There in the fairytale land where stars go to shine you meet Haechan, an aspiring photographer with a penchant for mischief and flirtation.

SMILE FOR THE CAMERA

⤷ LEE HAECHAN, PARK JISUNG, 19.8k

upon accidentally finding a video of you and your boyfriend haechan doing some very sexual things, jisung knows that he shouldn’t watch it. he knows that it would be an extreme invasion of privacy, but he’s unable to control himself when he sees the thumbnail. so he settles for only watching 30 seconds. except, 30 seconds turns into 30 minutes, and by then he’s buried himself too deep into a life-changing situation—or in which jisung’s terrible at keeping secrets.

SUPERMODEL

⤷ LEE HAECHAN, 23k

Five years ago, you left your hometown and ex to recreate your identity in California. Now, you're a staple of the fashion industry and on the front cover of magazines everywhere. Your hard work has paid off, but when you realize that you might be pregnant, you have to decide whether you want to be a full-time model or a full-time mother.

THE DEVIL’S CUP

⤷ LEE HAECHAN, 6.8k

In a world where humans and demons are separated by earth and the unknown, you’re curious about the creatures that most mortal beings are too frightened to investigate. More specifically if they can please you sexually. As they say, curiosity killed the cat.

WHO NEEDS CUPID’S BOW?

⤷ LEE HAECHAN, 11.1k

Cupid is not on your side, it seems. He’s made you fall in love with the worst possible person ever, AKA your best friend, AKA the man who still eats tootsie-pops—willingly. And frankly, it feels like the damn candy has a better chance of dating him than you ever will.

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roosterforme · 1 year

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Right Girl, Wrong Time Part 1 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Beer Boy and Sugar may have spent years apart, but their ten year college reunion proves they have always been part of the same equation.

Warnings: Fluff, swears, and angst. Eventual smut. 18+ only

Length: 3100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a sequel to accompany my story Old Habits Die Hard (you'll want to read that one first)!

Check my profile for my masterlist

It was kind of funny to you when you thought about it. Everyone from your graduating class was flooding back to the University of Virginia for your class reunion, but you'd been here pretty much every single day for the past six years.

You hadn't planned on ending up right back where you started after graduating from the University of Chicago with your PhD, but things never usually went as you planned.

"Big ten year reunion for you tomorrow night," said Veronica, your closest friend from work. "Are you excited?" You and she were sitting at a small table in a trendy bar near campus.

You just shrugged and swirled the last sip of your beer around in your pint glass. "Honestly? Not really. I haven't kept in contact with that many people I graduated with, and I probably wouldn't be going if I wasn't already living in town."

You pictured your cute rental house with the crooked fence and crumbling front step. It was only a few blocks from where you had lived your senior year.

"I'm sure you'll have fun!" Veronica said with a grin. "And if everyone sucks, you can rub it in that you have your PhD from one of the most prestigious programs in the country. And that you were published in Mathematics of Tomorrow when you were only twenty two."

You laughed. "I think you are overestimating how many people I plan on talking to. Maybe I'll see someone I know, but I'm just going for the free drinks and dinner, and then heading home."

"Yeah, you better head home early! Head home and make a decision for the fall! You are the only person I know who has ever been offered a tenure track at six colleges at once!"

You just waved your hand. "I have it narrowed down to Miami and San Diego. The other offers were kind of bogus, to be honest."

"Either way, you'll be somewhere warmer than Chicago," Veronica said with a shrug.

"I will cheers to that," you said, tipping your nearly empty pint of beer to her nearly empty glass of chardonnay. "Now, I need to run home before I meet this guy John for a second date."

Veronica made a face and shook her head. "That's the most generic name ever. And he sounded boring when you described him."

You just sighed. "Well, he was boring, but giving someone a second chance never hurt anyone."

You waved down your waiter for the check and handed him cash for the drinks.

"Want to walk out with me?" Veronica asked, checking the time.

"You go ahead, I'm going to use the ladies' room before I head out. See you on Monday?"

"I can't wait to hear all about your class reunion!"

You just shook your head and waved over your shoulder as you went to use the restroom. When you finished washing your hands, you glanced in the mirror. You were having such a good hair and makeup day, it was almost a given that you'd look like a clown or a wet dog for the reunion tomorrow night.

You straightened out your short, blue dress and headed for the bar exit. You ducked past a server who was carrying a tray of drinks, almost bumping some of the patrons seated at the bar in the process.

But as you walked past the guy sitting on the end, you slowed down a little bit. Even from behind, you knew he was going to be handsome. He had broad shoulders and thick, wavy brown hair. Just what you liked.

Just what you'd loved, actually. Since college.

You tucked your hair behind your ear and glanced at him as you turned toward the door, but you stopped dead in your tracks.

The scars. You knew those scars by heart. You'd touched his cheek and his neck so many times, you'd be able to describe them in your sleep. You'd thought about his face more than you should have. You'd thought about his body next to yours. You'd imagined what could have been.

But now Bradley Bradshaw was right in front of you, leaning his forearms against the bar and watching sports highlights while he played with the label on his beer bottle.

Only now he was all grown up.

"Beer Boy?" you asked softly, and he spun in his seat to face you so quickly it made you smile.

He just gaped at you, his eyes softly searching your face and dipping down as far as your neck before he licked his lips and grinned.

"Sugar."

Your belly swooped, and you were afraid you actually gasped out loud. His voice was even deeper than you remembered. You took a step closer to him, and his grin lit up his eyes. God, you could remember everything with him. Every bittersweet feeling came flooding back.

"I can't believe it's you." A giggle escaped your lips as you spoke, and his grin faltered a bit as his eyes landed on your lips.

He had a mustache now, and his hair was a little shorter than it was ten years ago. And he was so big and impossibly handsome.

"It's me," he said, his eyes flicking back up to yours. "And I guess you really are Doctor Sugar now?"

"Yes," you said before you bit your lip, remembering how many times he had called you that.

He shook his head, and that crooked grin was back. "Chicago was lucky to have you."

You felt your cheeks grow warm as his eyes roamed your face. He looked good. He looked so fucking good.

"You're still in the Navy?" you managed to ask as you inched ever closer to him. He turned his stool a little more to face you, his legs splayed apart with one hand resting on his thigh.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "I'm Lieutenant Bradshaw these days."

You looked him up and down in his fitted pants and black tee shirt that really hugged his chest and biceps. "I can just picture you in your uniform."

When your gaze settled on his face again, you saw hunger there that had you squeezing your thighs gently together.

"I wear a flight suit a lot of the time," he said in the raspiest tone you'd ever heard from him.

You pressed your lips together before you whispered, "You're just so much bigger now. You really filled out."

Part of you recognized that you should be embarrassed at saying that, but it felt like no time had passed at all. It felt like all those years ago you had turned back around, climbed back in bed with him and told him you never wanted to break up, ever.

"Yeah, I guess basic training will do that to a guy," he said casually, but his eyes were making you feel so warm. "Can I buy you a drink, Sugar?"

The fact that nobody had called you Sugar in the past ten years was not lost on you, but nothing had ever felt more right. You had missed him, thought about him frequently, too. Especially during those years you spent in Chicago.

"Yeah," you agreed with a slight nod, praying you weren't about to embarrass yourself. "As long as your girlfriend doesn't mind." He wasn't wearing a ring, but you needed to know for sure.

He just smirked. "Well, yeah, she would have absolutely minded if I was buying drinks for my beautiful ex-girlfriend. But we broke up two months ago, so I'm single."

"I see," you said, trying to bite back your smile, but you knew he was onto you.

"So what are you drinking?" he asked, already raising two fingers toward the bartender to get his attention.

"The good beer," you said softly.

And then Bradley turned toward you with a longing look that reminded you of ten years ago. "You still remember everything, Sugar?" he asked, his brows scrunching together as he took a deep breath and waited for you to answer.

"Everything," you confirmed with a nod.

"Another beer for you?" the bartender asked Bradley before he turned toward you as well.

"Make it two. Please," Bradley confirmed, and you shifted a little closer to him.

When the bartender returned with two bottles, Bradley shifted on his stool to stand.

"Have a seat," he told you, but you placed your hand on his very muscular chest and stopped him.

"No, stay where you are," you told him, pushing him gently back down. When he eased himself back against the stool, you tucked yourself closer so your hip was nudging the inside of his knee. "Is this okay?"

"Yep," he said, quickly grabbing both of the beers and handing you one. "It's okay," he added as his cheeks started to grow pink.

When he shifted around in his seat, his leg rubbed against you, and you needed to start a new conversation to keep from moaning.

"You're in town for the reunion?" you asked quickly.

"Yeah," he confirmed after taking a sip of beer. "I was in Virginia for work. It made sense to try to stop by. Where are you living these days?"

You laughed, and it seemed to make him more comfortable. "Like six streets over. I'm working at UVA."

"No way," he said with another grin. "You're teaching here?"

"Yeah, but only for another couple of weeks. I'm trying to decide between two tenure positions."

"Which schools?" he asked softly, and you couldn't help but think he kept intentionally bumping you with his knee.

"University of Miami and San Diego State."

His eyes went wide as he sucked in a short breath. "That's great," he told you, looking at you in awe now. "I still can't believe you teach math to a bunch twenty year old guys."

"Why not?" you asked with a laugh.

Bradley turned his head to face the bar and took a long drink of beer. He gave you side eye and said, "I would have died if you were my math teacher, Sugar. Trying to teach me calculus, looking like that? Please, I'd have failed the class."

"What? Why?"

"Come on," he said, turning fully back and giving you a playfully annoyed look. "You're just as gorgeous as you were ten years ago. Maybe moreso. I mean...you filled out, too."

Your mouth was hanging open and your heart was pounding erratically.

"But at least your students don't know about your math tattoo. So I guess they don't have it so bad. Me on the other hand? I wouldn't last a minute in your lecture."

"Bradley," you gasped, but he just kept his eyes on you while he finished his beer.

Your phone started vibrating in your clutch purse which you were gripping tightly in your sweaty hand. You set down your beer and pulled it out to see that John had been texting you.

"Shit," you muttered, and Bradley adjusted himself in his seat again, eyes still on you.

"You need to go?" he asked, and it sounded like he was dreading the answer.

"I...just need to send a quick text, actually," you replied, setting your purse down on the bartop and frantically typing back to John. "I'm just going to cancel my plans."

When you lowered your phone and set it down on your purse, he asked you, "Are you seeing someone then?"

"No," you replied quickly. "It was just a second date." You would have canceled plans with anyone to stay here longer.

Bradley's grin was slowly creeping back. "Did you just cancel a date for me?"

You scoffed playfully. "Yeah, but he was boring anyway."

"That'll never do. Not for you. You deserve the best."

You looked at him carefully, letting your palm rest on his knee. "Is that why I had you?"

"Hmm," he hummed teasingly. "I would assume so."

You just stood there for a minute, barely moving at all, except for your fingertips moving against his muscular thigh. "I missed you. When I was in Chicago," you whispered, and he was nodding right away.

"I missed you, too. Had a hard time at first. I thought about you a lot."

"I thought about you all the time," you replied, your heartbeat picking up in tempo again.

Bradley nudged you a little closer with his knee, and you willingly went. "I still think about you sometimes," he whispered.

You sighed softly, and he sat up a little straighter, his face closer to yours. You felt like you could melt against him, if you thought that was a good idea. Which it was not.

A loud group of college students entered the bar and made their way toward the crowded tables, jostling you and bumping your butt in the process. You stepped further into Bradley's personal space to make room, bumping both of his thighs with your hips.

His sharp intake of breath and slow exhale had you meeting his eyes and withdrawing your hand from the top of his thigh.

"No," he told you, grabbing your hand and then gently pressing it where it had been. You looked down and saw you were standing precariously close to him; if you moved your hand just a little bit, it would be on his zipper. "It's okay," he murmured, bringing his hand to your hip.

This felt very good.

"I like your mustache," you told him, blurting out the first idiotic thing that came to your mind. Of course you liked it. He looked great with it. You weren't even aware you actually liked facial hair before this moment.

"Thanks," he said softly, and his eyes grew wider as you brought your other hand up to run your fingers along his mustache. His lips parted, but he didn't move otherwise.

"You couldn't grow one of these in college," you told him with a laugh.

"No," he replied, his lips skimming along your fingertips. "Would have looked ridiculous."

Your soft laughter seemed to spur him on as his huge hand wrapped around your hip and settled on your lower back.

Oh god, you wanted him. So badly. You needed him. You had never stopped feeling this way about Bradley Bradshaw.

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

Bradley had often wondered what it would be like to see you again. At first the idea of it haunted him; it was the only thing he wanted, but he figured it was never going to happen.

Then as he got older, thoughts of you would jump into the forefront of his mind when he least expected it. He always figured you were doing everything you wanted to do. He thought you would be married by now. He was absolutely certain you would have found someone better than him.

But you made him better. He grew into a man because of you. Every girlfriend he had since you broke his heart should have honestly written you a thank you letter.

But the crazy thing was, Bradley wasn't surprised in the least that he still felt a connection to you right now. His heart was leaping in his chest, elation pouring through his body.

Your beautiful face was a few inches from his and you were touching his mustache. Your other hand was on his leg, and he couldn't seem to stop himself from guiding you closer with his palm on your lower back. Your gaze was still sharp, and you were just as witty as he remembered. And you were so perfect, he never wanted to stop looking at you.

"Maybe your mustache would have looked ridiculous ten years ago, but it looks good now," you told him. He wanted to kiss you. He thought he was going to, when you added, "You look so handsome."

"You're fucking gorgeous, Sugar," he told you, and he was treated to a radiant smile as your fingers rubbed the end of his mustache and trailed along to the faded scars on his cheek. "You always have been."

You were softly sighing as you examined him.

"You look like you want to ask me something," he told you, and you nodded the tiniest bit.

"Yeah," you confirmed with a soft laugh. "But I'm scared."

"Don't be scared. Just ask." He would be honest with you, no matter what you asked him.

"When you think about me... what do you think about?"

A montage of images rushed through his mind, and he swallowed hard. Your lips parted with a little gasp like you just knew some of his thoughts on the matter were completely filthy.

His cock was getting a little hard as he let his mind settle on the first time he got you off. "I think about that study room, Sugar. And how cute you looked in my bathrobe. And I think about how effortlessly you made me want to change my ways."

Bradley started to close the distance between you, and you cupped his cheek as your lips brushed his in the softest kiss.

"Beer Boy," you whispered, nudging his lips with yours again. But you were already pulling away as he was trying to get closer.

Then you asked, "Do you want to know what comes to my mind when I start thinking about you?"

"Tell me."

You licked your lips before you said, "I think about your Navy desk lamp. And I think about your bedroom door. Nobody else has ever done anything like that for me."

Bradley kissed your lips nudging your nose with his. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat, Sugar."

You threaded your fingers through his hair, and Bradley was absolutely aching for you now. He wanted to take you to his hotel room. He wanted to make you feel so good.

You had your hand incredibly close to his cock as you looked him in the eye and said, "And when I think about you, Bradley, I think about the fact that nobody else has made me cum as good in the last ten years."

"Shit," he groaned, growing harder by the second as you sighed and moved your hand higher.

Bradley had to take your hand in his to stop you. But it was your wide pupils that had him shifting his right knee so it rubbed against your core.

You sucked in a deep breath and gasped, gently grinding yourself against him as your eyes drifted closed.

"Sugar," he groaned. "Please tell me you're coming back to my hotel room."

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

Ahhhh!!!! They are back! Seemingly picking up right where they left off! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

PART 2

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction

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leclerc-s · 2 months

Text

track 005. jugaste y sufrí

─── ❝ yo ya no quiero sufrir, quiero ser feliz ❞ ───

masterlist // previous // next

lando norris so i guess oscar unknowingly became a dad??

ollie bearman why is that where you brain immediately goes?

mae jones his brain needs to be studied under a microscope.

checo perez can i leave now?

dulce perez si yo tengo que sufrir tú también tío! checo perez ya me voy. daniel jones-ricciardo unless austin shows up in texas or vegas. checo perez mierda.

fernando alonso sergio! there are children here!

bailey winters have any of you tried locking them in a closet?

penelope trevino hmm. that might work.

ollie bearman what she needs is therapy. sebastian literally said she was afraid of falling in love. AUSTIN MADE HER CRY IN MIAMI!

arthur leclerc she would've cried over anything. she's an emotional person.

dulce perez have you see the group picture? max verstappen she was crying over tangled.

daphne jones-ricciardo i cry over tangled too. it's a beautiful movie.

pierre gasly that's because you are rapunzel and daniel is flynn rider.

arthur leclerc but yes, she does need therapy.

logan sargeant has anyone seen oscar? we were supposed to meet up for lunch?

oscar piastri i forgot sorry. logan sargeant YOU DITCHED ME?

max verstappen go have lunch with zoya or something.

zoya torres what the fuck? why are you signing me up for things? max verstappen if you show up one more time to my apartment crying over your ex and hoping to steal my cats were going to have problems. zoya torres it was only twice. mae jones it's been 7, he started keeping track. there is a board on our fridge and everything.

dulce perez hey, you know who else is missing?

daniel ricciardo-jones SHUT UP!

ollie bearman she's with me!

isabella perez i am not missing dulce! i told tio checo where i was going

logan sargeant oh it must be nice to not get ditched by your friends. i wouldn't know BECAUSE OSCAR'S A TRAITOR!

oscar piastri how exactly is it my fault that thing 1 and thing 2 showed up at my hotel room at 6:30 in the morning and dragged me out to breakfast?

ollie bearman you're lucky it was 6:30 isa dragged me out of bed at 6. isabella perez WE LITERALLY MADE PLANS THE NIGHT BEFORE OLIVER!

fernando alonso i was unaware isabella and oscar had acquired a grid child

oscar piastri bella has a grid child not me. i don't want him ollie bearman you're a horrible father. ollie bearman i hope you dnf in monaco oscar piastri i'm not your dad! ollie bearman good. i wouldn’t want you as my father. you’re horrible and you suck! isabella perez oh great, now you've made him sad oscar!

oscarpiastri, isabellaperez, and olliebearman posted new stories

i'm going to die with her behind the wheel. that smile is plotting murder. what is it with drivers and showing up in team gear to everything? they will also sleep anywhere, as shown by ollie. i feel like i'm interrupting something.

alex albon did you or did you not go out on a date with oscar?

isabella perez no, i did not go out on a date with oscar.

george russell i call bullshit! i saw ollie’s story! esteban ocon i agree.

charles leclerc wasn’t she out with oscar and ollie? how is that a date?

pierre gasly aww a family date! isabella perez i’m going to murder you gasly

natalia ruiz boys, leave her alone.

isabella perez it wasn’t a date! ollie was there!

alex albon which means if ollie wasn’t there it totally would’ve been a date

lewis hamilton when will the day come where all of you learn to mind your own business?

pierre gasly pretty much never

mae jones isa, it was a fucking date if i’ve ever seen one. trust me on this one.

isabella perez yes, i'll take advice from the people who had a fwb relationship, a situationship, and someone who broke up with her ex because she was afraid.

isabella perez really the only one's who should be giving me advice are esteban, george, alex, and lewis.

pierre gasly you're mean sometimes.

mae jones and for the record i wasn't afraid!

alex albon explain things i wish you said? charles leclerc or you're losing me? esteban ocon or exile? mae jones OKAY I GET IT!

sooo, how'd the date go?

it wasn't a date logan.

oh sure and ollie wasn't third wheeling the two of you.

he wasn't?

MY BROTHER IN CHRIST HAVE YOU SEEN HIS STORY?? YOU ARE IN L-O-V-E!!

how can i be in love?? i barely know her

okay, fine, you have a crush on her.

no, i don't.

yes, you do. i know you pastry!

you don't know shit. i don't have a crush on her.

oscar, either i'm fucking blind or you're stupid but you, my australian friend, have a massive crush on her.

fuck off

no, i don't

sure buddy, and i'm not from miami

but you are?

exactly my point.

logan sargeant he's got the l-word

lando norris leprosy??

daniel jones-ricciardo how the fuck did your mind go to leprosy?

lando norris bailey and i watched ice age last night.

bailey winters max, you're performance in that movie was amazing

max verstappen i will take lando out.

pierre gasly the way his season's going he'll take himself out first. lando norris literally fuck you gasly. i know you and esteban are going to take each other out at least once this season.

logan sargeant OSCAR'S IN LOVE!!

arthur leclerc WITH WHO?? logan sargeant i cannot believe that sentence just came out of your brain.

dulce perez my sister i assume??

logan sargeant well, it's more like a crush but that counts right??

daphne jones-ricciardo and you came to this conclusion how?

logan sargeant denial is always the first sign, no?

carlos sainz it is like lando when he said he wasn't in love with bailey! lando norris we are not talking about me.

isabellaperez posted a new story

paddock dad isabella, are you okay?

super max are you depressed? honey badger did austin call again?

duckling i'm okay. i think.

duckling i'm feeling things. i don't know if they're good or bad.

paddock dad therapy helps. duckling so i've heard.

super max good things or bad things?

duckling I DON'T KNOW!!

duckling feels are hard. i don't want them anymore.

paddock dad sorry kid, you're stuck with them forever. duckling SEB! MAKE THEM GO AWAY!! paddock dad i can't isa. you have to face them.

duckling here's a thought, what if i don't? i could ignore them, they'll go away eventually.

super max you've already tried that isa. it's not working out that great for you.

honey badger already tried that kiddo. maybe it's time to talk to someone?

duckling i'll call my mom!

paddock dad that's better than one of us.

isabellaperez posted new stories

my mother won't answer the phone, who's more important than me?? her baby?? her pride and joy??

nothing like a good ole lana song to cry too.

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @mypage-myfandoms @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @cowboylikemets1989 @justtprachisblog @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @Smnthnclj @dan3avocado @melissayalene @nothanqks @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @chezmardybum @d3kstar @weekendlusting @anytimeanywherebitchblog @ragioniera @burberryfilms @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee @leclercsluv @33-81 @theseus-jpg @lorenaskaspersen @sarah-thatstings-ann @My-fangirling-outlet

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¡leclerc-s speaks! OLLIE IN F1!! LET'S GOO!! i also couldn't help myself including that ice age joke. does this qualify as angst?? i don't think so? this has also been sitting in my drafts for ages.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #the honest series #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x female oc #formula 1 #formula 1 fic #fanfic #fanfiction #f1 #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #f1 fic

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storiesbyrhi · 1 year

Text

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence, swearing, no beta, warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: There are many different ways to heal. 3443 words.

1986

Forest Hills was not a quiet place to wake up to. This was likely because of the cavernous rips through the fabric of Hawkins, as opposed to being indicative of the residents’ natures. However, as soon as the sun rose, you didn’t stand a chance at a sleep in.

The bat was asleep when you checked on him. You wondered if he had got up during the night, like a bat should. Leaving him, you quietly put the kettle on and went about unpacking the few boxes and bags you’d arrived with.

When the trailer was as homely as you could make it, you sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table with a map of Hawkins laid out on it. You took a deep breath in and out, then held a long chain above the map. Secured to the end of the chain was a shard of clear quartz; a simple stone, but useful for scrying.

Focussing your thoughts, you watched the quartz slowly begin to sway from side to side. The movement picked up and it swung in a circle, then shot to a point on the map and dropped there. Picking up the crystal, you looked at the point. Forest Hills Trailer Park.

Trying again, the quartz repeated itself. Then, again. And, again.

You would not try a fifth time, leaving it be and reasoning that the crystal was picking up on you, since Hawkins was not used to a witch being on its land. At least, not anymore.

…

1845

The hem of your dress was drenched, splatters of mud flicking up and covering the fabric. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Nine years of violence. Nearly a decade of wasted energy, and this is what had become of the land your coven had called home since well before the French claimed ownership.

Back then, you’d lived off the land, co-existing with the Miami and the Potawatomi peoples. The coven learned from them, honouring their sovereignty. But later, there had been wars and treaties. A British take over. Death. So much death.

“Amabel!” It was your name then, something you changed often, cloaking your immortality. “Amabel. We must go. We must leave this place.”

They’d burned the field to the ground. Ash and dirt powdered the land. You stood in the middle of it all. That gnawing feeling you’d not been able to shake in years sitting in the back of your brain.

“If we stay, we will die. Our sisters will die. There is nothing more we can do.”

As the tears rolled down your cheeks, the clouds overhead grew darker.

Soon, within the next year, all that was left of the Native American tribes would be ordered out of Indiana. Your coven would be gone too, moved on, somewhere else, learning how to blend in with the people. Hiding magic. Writing history.

Your aunt crossed the field to where your mother was begging you to move. Thunder sounded out across the flatlands commonly known as Hawkins. Rain was imminent.

“Amabel. We do not have time for this. We have said our farewells to the wretched place. Come, now.”

Your mother took your hand and you fell in line behind the women.

…

1986

No witch had been near Roane County since 1845. Hawkins, though, had never been far from your thoughts. You had lived as Amabel for only a short period of time after leaving. Lustrating rituals gave each in your coven new names. Ora lived into the late 1800s, watching her sisters fall in love, have children, and pass the craft on. After Ora, another ritual christened you Sylvie. By the 1980s you had embodied the name you had offered to the bat when he woke up around midday.

“I guess you can’t tell me your name, huh?” you asked him.

As the bat crawled into your palm, you saw how the darkness had spread a little further across him. He seemed even slower than he had in the forest, and more willing to accept your human warmth. You raised your hand to your shoulder, letting the bat crawl and snuggle into the heat where your sweater met your neck. He clung to strands of hair and made the smallest of chittering sounds.

“So, scrying didn’t work… Which, you know, probably would have been too easy. Let’s consult the cards instead.”

The bat stayed nestled while you cut the deck and laid out a five-card spread on the trailer’s old carpeted floor.

“Do you want me to translate for you?” you asked the bat. “Our first card is… Two of Cups…” Two of Cups? “Card one represents the past, but… Two of Cups is the union of souls. True and lasting love… Maybe it’s…” But you were coming up short in your interpretation.

The second card, representative of the present, was Eight of Swords. Sighing with relief, that one made more sense.

The future was the third pulled card. Death. “Don’t worry,” you said to your friend. “Death doesn’t mean anyone’s dying. It can mean a lot of things… You know what, this is all messed up. I don’t… I don’t understand it.”

The messaging became even more complicated when you drew the Queen of Cups to represent the primary reasons for your current circumstances, and The Tower reversed for the potential of the circumstances.

“Right… Well… That’s all very… mysterious.”

You wanted divination to tell you why you were in Hawkins, what was calling you back to the town. Meaning wasn’t going to be handed to you. You picked up the cards and shuffled them into the deck.

“Guess all will be revealed,” you muttered.

Lunch was cheese and avocado sandwiches for you and fishing bait for the bat. Nowhere sold bat food, so you had to think outside the box. He seemed happy to have something other than fruit.

“Alright, friend,” you whispered to him as he ate. “You’re up next.”

While the bat chewed on worms, you laid out a bed of yarrow and rue on the coffee table and lit a blue candle. When the bat took your invitation to sit on top of the plants, you offered him a piece of jasper. He sat on top of it, making you smile.

“I hold you in my heart,

and wrap you in my love,” you began.

“Heal thyself, dear friend,

in this circle thereof.”

A sprig of yarrow was held to the flame.

“From earth I pulled this plant

as an offering I hope they receive.

Health and hearth,

and from sickness a reprieve.”

The yarrow burnt and the bat seemingly fell asleep on the bed of flowers. You sat with your back against the couch and waited until the blue candle was a dying flame and puddle of wax.

…

When the bat awoke, he felt different. Not only healed, his brown fur and pink limbs returned, but… aware. He flew from the witch’s alter and swooped through the trailer, looking for an exit. He was quiet and you were asleep, so he didn’t panic. Not at first.

There was no way out. No open windows or open vents. The best thing he could do was hide with a vantage point of the door and hope he could fly by you when you were on your way out.

The bat wondered where he was. Then, to his own horror, he wondered who and what he was.

…

When you woke, the sun was setting and the trailer was bathed in an orange glow. The plan had certainly not been to fall asleep. Sitting up, you looked for the bat on the coffee table, but he was gone.

That’s good, you thought. If he was not on the table, he’d made his way safely to somewhere else in the trailer. It meant he felt better. You figured he would appear when he wanted more bites of banana or wriggling worms.

Your second night in Hawkins was ordinary. Mundane, even. Sitting on the steps of your trailer, you ate Spaghetti-Os straight from the saucepan and listened. A witch’s ear is good.

The trailer park, more alive than usual with all its refugees and aid workers. The drone of the power plant not far away. Forests all around you, quieter than they should have been. There was a distinct decrease in wildlife in Hawkins, which filled you with grief. Over the train tracks, closer to town, the hum of people, machines, and despair.

You closed your eyes and listened harder. There was a pulsing coming from somewhere. You couldn’t pinpoint it. It wasn’t beneath the earth, nor above it. Everywhere and nowhere. It was him and his wild lightning and taste for suffering. You knew they called him Vecna. He wasn’t Henry anymore, nor a captive One. He had no name, an omen within itself.

It was hard to hear him and not interfere. It was worse to see the children soldiers in your mind, armoring up for a battle even the oldest witches could not predict. Was it an evil to not intervene? The lesser of the evil of giving him witchcraft.

You breathed out hard and opened your eyes.

Behind you, the bat had emerged from his hiding place. As he took flight, left through the open doorway you were sitting in, you watched his gothic form fly up and disappear into the gloomy purple night-time sky.

Smiling, you offered a small, “Slán agus ádh mór, a chara,” in a bittersweet moment. You already missed your bat friend.

...

In the morning, it was easy to find a place that needed your help. Hawkins High School’s gymnasium had been set up as a crisis center. Basic medical triage was offered and you didn’t even have to present identification or credentials. Once you’d introduced yourself and said you were a first responder, you’d been given a fully stocked first aid kit.

Minor cuts, bruises, and sprained ankles. You’d spent almost an hour picking glass out of one kid’s arm, healing the wound as you went so by the time he was bandaged up, he’d be almost entirely cured. Secretly you chipped away at the healing, nothing that could be considered miraculous. Just enough to ease pain and discomfort.

If nothing else came from the trip to Hawkins, this was all the justification you needed.

Mid-afternoon saw two teenagers come limping into the gym. You recognised them immediately from the visions your coven had seen. Robin Buckley had an arm pulled tightly around Erica Sinclair’s body, helping the smaller girl to an empty cot. You rushed over.

“What’s happened?” you asked.

“Leg! It’s her leg!” Robin yelled, then attempted to moderate her voice to the volume of the room.

Erica wasn’t actively crying but her stoic expression was a mask for the pain she was in. Tears streaked down her face and she took a sharp intake of oxygen as you pulled up the leg of her jeans.

“Can you help?” Robin asked, eyes on the door as she jittered on the spot.

“Do you need to go? She’ll be safe here.”

Erica snorted and rolled her eyes.

“I… They… No, no, I’ll stay,”

“Go,” Erica instructed.

You started to clean the wound, examining it. It was as if something had coiled around her leg, burning her in the process. A corrosive rope burn. Not the type of thing that happened in an earthquake.

“Lucas will kill me,”

“Since when have either of us listened to that nerd? And besides, isn’t Steve the babysitter?”

“Uhhhh, shit, okay. Okay,” Robin conceded. She looked at you. “Don’t let her die,”

“I’m not gonna die!” Erica yelled. “So, go.”

Robin nodded and left, bolting from the room. As soon as nobody was there to see her struggle, Erica let out a shaky breath.

“How old are you?”

“Eleven,”

“Pretty brave eleven-year-old,” you told her. She didn’t respond. “Strange injury.” Still, she said nothing. “How’d you get it?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” she replied, delivery measured and serious.

You smiled at her. “Hang around in this town long, something’s probably gonna beat you to it anyway, right?”

Erica eyed you suspiciously.

The wound wouldn’t need stitches or graphs or any Western medicine. It would need magic to heal. You could feel it in Erica. There was something bad in the burning. As you dabbed at her leg with antiseptic, you healed her in a way that was definitely a miracle. Before she could notice, you’d covered it with gauze and bandages, more than she needed.

“If you won’t give yourself a day to rest, then take a couple hours at minimum. Whatever is going on out there isn’t over. If they need you, they need you strong. A couple hours, okay?”

“Who are you? Who do you work for?”

“I’m… a healer… and I don’t work for anybody. I’m just here to help,” you answered, motioning to the beds of people around you.

Erica didn’t agree to the few hours, nor did she say goodbye, but you let her go and wondered if you had been so precocious and fearless when you were but a baby.

…

After one night in the tallest treetops near Forest Hills, the bat tried to rest, but his consciousness would not allow it. He was close to a panic, his new awareness keeping him from any animal behaviour. Instead, he watched you leave your trailer.

As you drove into town and spent the day helping and healing, the bat was never far away. Upon sunset, you returned home to find him sitting on your trailer’s doorstep. Whatever had changed in him, it was like you could see it.

You’d stopped walking, looked at him from a safe distance. “Hi,” you greeted, unsure what the bat was doing back. Maybe he was hungry. The eco-system had been disrupted enough that perhaps his food sources were limited.

The bat watched you as you took a step closer. Then another.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” you asked him.

The bat hopped aside as you unlocked the door and followed you in upon invitation.

You put your bag down and sat on the couch. The bat flew across the room and perched himself on the edge of the coffee table directly in front of you. There was something eerie about him. Not threatening, not dangerous, but still very, very off.

“This might come as a shock, but I’ve never had a familiar. Or a pet. I don’t know what you want,” you told him. “But that’s… that’s not it, is it?” You thought for a moment. “Okay, well, I could take you to a vet… or we could…” Before you could finish the sentence, the thought shut you up. Could you really consult The Witches Who Came Before? After disregarding their previous advice? No. Not for a bat.

“I’m gonna make a phone call.”

The bat watched as you stood and walked to your bag, looking for the small notebook you kept for numbers and other important bits and pieces. Once you’d located Kelsey’s number, you dialed. Looking back at the fuzzy creature on the coffee table, you nodded at him. “She’ll know what to do.”

The phone rang only twice. “Hellllloooooo?”

“Hey, Kels, it’s-”

“Yeah, I know who it is. You’ve really pissed off some of the sisters,” she said with a laugh. “You really went back to Hawkins?”

“Yeah, I did. Look, I need your help,”

“My help?! Dude, are you trying to get me exiled as well?”

“I’m not exiled,” you replied, the inflection in your voice hooking up at the end of the sentence like you were asking a question.

“I mean… Not yet…”

“I’m not exiled. There’s a reason I came back. I’m meant to be here. But it doesn’t matter. This isn’t about Hawkins. I need your help with a bat,”

“A bat?”

“Yeah, like, the animal,”

“Yeah, no, I know the animal. Didn’t think you were chipping a baseball bat out of a tree. What are you doing with a bat?”

In order to not just survive but to thrive, a witch must adapt to each age of human culture. Sometimes though, one would find herself truly suited to a time or place. Take your coven sister Blair, for example. She mourned the end of the Elizabethan era and refused to modify her vocabulary or mannerisms. In line at Walmart, she was all ‘good morrow’ and ‘doth thou possess thine grape juice?’ Most though, were undetectable as agents of immortality. And, you and Kelsey, well anyone would have guessed you were modern women living in a second-wave feminism world.

“I don’t know. I just found him, and he was sick, so I did the burning yarrow healing spell-”

Kelsey stopped you. “Wait. Slow down. You did that healing spell on a bat?”

“Yes,” you confirmed, then waited for her to speak again.

Instead, she laughed. “You go to a town under the pretense of helping people and instead casting a healing spell on a bat?”

“It’s not pretense! I am helping people. But I have limited resources here, Kels. And the bat was-”

“Sick, yeah, you said. Well, there are spells for animals, but I’d have to go through some of the old grimoires. Why’d you even try it? You know human spells don’t work for ani-”

“It did work.”

Kelsey was silent on the other end of the line.

You’d been watching the bat for the whole conversation and he’d not moved once. He was like a statue. A very small and cute, but unnerving statue.

“What?” The humour had gone from Kelsey’s voice. “It can’t have,”

“It did… Look, it’s bad here. More than those kids can handle. I have to accept that, but the bat… I think that’s what had poisoned him. I didn’t have the grimoires or an entire garden and apothecary at my disposal. I cast the burning yarrow spell… And, whatever was wrong went away.”

Kelsey was quiet again. Then, “So, what’s the problem?”

“He’s… different…”

“What do you mean different?” You’d known Kelsey for all your different lives. That was fear in her voice, no mistaking.

“He seems… I don’t know how to describe it… Like he knows… or understands…” You really couldn’t explain it.

“I think you need to take this higher up in the coven,”

“No, I can’t. Why? What’s wrong?”

“Fuck,” Kelsey said under her breath. “Look, if that spell worked on the bat then it’s not a bat. It could have only worked if it’s human. Or at least, has been human at some point. And depending on which spell you used, you could have healed more than illness,”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, a hex or… something…”

“He’s definitely a bat,” you told her. “I’m looking at him right now,”

“But is he looking back at you? Like, does he see you? ‘Cause yarrow's not powerful to undo a real deal curse, you know? So maybe you just shifted things around a little. Knocked some human back into him. If you did, that’s kind of fucked up.”

Your blood ran cold.

The bat was not just a bat.

And the bat knew it too.

“How do I fix it? How do I help him?!”

“I don’t know! I’m not an expert in bats or curses or fucking up spells! I don’t think there’s even a spell to like… fix it. You’d have to write a new spell and hope you don’t torture it any more than you have.”

You’d started to cry, horrified at the thought of what you’d done to something… someone that had already suffered a hex.

“Look,” Kelsey said in a soft voice. She hated to hear you upset. “Magic is intention and will. You’ve got some big feelings now. Give it a try. If nothing works, call me again and I’ll come to you…”

“Okay,” you squeaked out.

“And, like, what if this is what was calling you to Hawkins? Maybe you were meant to go and right a wrong. Uncurse a bat…”

“Thanks, Kels. Thank you,”

“Don’t mention it… Seriously. Do not tell another soul that I’ve condoned any of this rebellion.”

You laughed and sniffled. “I won’t. Bye,”

“Bye, babe.”

You hung up the phone and walked to the bathroom to splash water on your face. At the vanity, you hung your head over the sink and let the water cool you. As you stood up straight and looked at your reflection, the bat swooped in and sat on your shoulder.

“We can do this,” you said to him. “I’ll fix it. I promise.”

End Note: A special shout to my friend @toomanyacorns for reading through the first few chapters of this story and for being a resource into all things history. Also, the timeline is posted and will be updated with each chapter, along with the Grimoire.

Fic Taglist: @kaitebugg03 @paranoidmunson @munsonsbait @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson/You #Witch!Reader x Eddie Munson #Mine #Bat!Eddie Munson #Vampire!Eddie Munson

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pastrydragon · 1 year

Text

Accent, speech pattern and Voice headcanons for the Gotham Rogues.

Riddler

In casual settings, Eddie has a slight New Jersey accent and cusses with the frequency you would expect from that.

He almost always has perfect grammar and has a very impressive vocabulary.

But there are some situations where "Fuck" just does not have a suitable replacement.

When he's going against Batman, The Riddler adopts a more trans Atlantic accent since it goes with his gameshow aesthetic.

Also since a LOT of his schemes are publicly televised he doesn't want to cuss on camera or forget to project his voice.

So adopting a different accent helps his brain remember how to act on camera so he can always appear classy.

Edward's voice is a bit more high and nasally than average, but not to an annoying degree. It's not particularly unique either. So if he remembers so change his voice slightly then he can make a phone call to anywhere and they won't recognize him.

Emotional variations include his accent getting thicker when he's angry or exhausted.

Scarecrow

John has a very rural Georgian accent.

Scarecrow: The Master Of Fear has a rather dramatic way of speaking due to his love of classic literature and poetry.

His years in academia have also left him with a very intellectual and scientific vocabulary.

John speaks with a kind of intensity and eloquence that you'd expect on a stage rather than at the front of a classroom.

A smooth baritone only enhances the effect.

Had he not been a professor, he would have made a killing as a raidio star or television narrator.

John only breaks out Southernisms when he's embarrassed. "Well I never!" "Why I outta-" he also stammers when embarrassed. otherwise his speech patterns don't have noticeable emotional variation except the ones he puts there.

Mad Hatter

Jervis has a strong Bristol accent. Which is an English accent that strongly pronounces R's and tends to slap an L at the end of words that should end in a vowel.

The classic example is Opera'l instead of Opera.

His voice is naturally high and soft, often making him sound much more indulgent toward others than he's actually feeling.

Although he does quote the Alice books often, he does not quote longer passages exactly unless he's having an episode.

The rest of the time he'll change them to fit what's happening or merely reference them.

If he's feeling particularly lucid and cheery, you may not even hear mention of the books at all.

Stress will cause longer more accurate quotes and chip at his lucidity along the way.

His only other emotional variation comes out when he's feeling flirtatious.

Jervis's voice tends to get more breathy and cooing around people he likes. He also goes harder on his R's giving some words a purr like sound.

Harley Quinn

We all know and love our girl Harley's Brooklyn accent.

Honestly I can't make an improvement on the BTAS version so scroll down.

Poison Ivy

Pam has a Virginian accent. It's the kind of southern bell accent you'd associate with Blanche Devereux.

Pair that with a voice like a lounge singer and everything that comes out of her mouth sounds sexy.

Even when she doesn't want it to.

It's actually pretty annoying for her.

Unlike John she uses plenty of southernisms such as "I Reckon" "Over yonder" and of course the venom filled "Bless your heart."

Catwomen

The Miami accent is strong on this women, and it tells you exactly why she moved to Gotham.

You can't wear all black leather in the kind of weather Florida's got.

Miami heat isn't sweet to everyone.

Being a second generation Cuban immigrant, she speaks Spanish fluently and while she speaks both it and English seamlessly she has run into one glitch.

She will occasionally forget whether a turn of phrase was originally English or Spanish.

She called John a dancing skeleton once and no one has let it die. From Esqueleto rumbero- Literally: Dancing skeleton, Meaning: Very thin.

Her actual voice is a pretty standard alto. Like Ed, as long as she disguises her accent she can basically call wherever without being recognized.

Another rogue that hits their R's harder while flirting. But it's less a seductive purr and more an "Oh, I'm being HUNTED" kind of sound to hear.

Bane

Bane is directly from Venezuela and has the accent to match.

His English is phenomenal for someone who's only been speaking it a few years but it's not always perfect.

Whenever he doesn't know or forgets the word for something he'll describe it using other words until the other person figures it out for him.

For example, this interaction between him and Riddler: "I need the office knives." "... I'm sorry, what?" "The office knives, with the holes in the handle." "Hmmm, is the answer perhaps scissors?" "YES! I need the scissors!"

Edward is the grand champion of figuring out what Bane is saying if Catwomen or Music Meister isn't there to translate the word from Spanish.

Bane has a naturally loud and deep voice which can make him sound aggressive even when he's not trying to be. His size doesn't help.

But really he's a very calm and levelheaded person.

If he's actually angry, you'll know it from how quiet deliberate his speech becomes.

A quiet Bane is a dangerous Bane.

Joker

New York accent.

Drops occasional NY phrases but doesn’t mention anything culturally significant to New York unless someone else brings it up.

He doesn't remember what part of New York he's from but if asked he'll say Coney Island.

His jealousy over Eddie growing up in Wildwood is real.

Harley swears up and down he's from Staten Island and anyone familiar with the different New York accents would agree with her.

Joker has a pretty distinct reedy voice that all gothamites will recognize as soon as they hear it.

It gets even higher on the rare occasion he's scared or nervous.

Music Meister

SoCal (Southern California) accent.

This accent is also called Valley Girl.

He's originally from San Diego and spent his early twenties in LA so the accent is thick and locked in.

He moved to the east coast to attempt a Broadway career before turning to villainy and kind of regrets not moving back west first.

He's the first person to complain about cold weather and bad Mexican food when the chance pops up.

But he's gotten too fond of the other rogues to seriously consider leaving.

Even if the Scarecrow keeps smacking him with a newspaper every time he misuses the word "literally".

He automatically starts singing his words when he becomes frightened or incredibly nervous. Which made sense until he revealed he did that even before he got his powers.

Odd.

Killer Croc

Waylon has a thick cajun accent, that along with a naturally growly bass voice can make it difficult for others to understand him.

He prefers speaking French to English and will go out of his way to talk to people he thinks might speak his preferred language.

Jervis, Edward, Victor Fries and Joker speak with him in French when in a one on one conversation.

Yes Joker speaks French, no he doesn’t remember why or how. He honestly didn’t even know he could until he met Waylon.

Waylon is incredibly charming and personable once you figure out what he's saying, he's definitely the most well liked rogue among his peers next to Harley.

Emotional variants include getting even more growly when angry and speaking completely in French when distracted.

Penguin

A lot of people say he has an English accent, he doesn’t, never say this in front of him.

The man is WELSH, and he has ruined people’s lives over having his accent confused on particularly difficult days.

He takes great pride in his heritage and being accused of being “English” of all things is one of the quickest ways to sour his mood.

No offense to Mr. Tetch of course, it's the principle of the thing really.

He rarely speaks Welsh these days unless visiting extended family.

He does use the proverb “Deuparth gwaith yw ei ddechrau”(Two-thirds of work is starting), mostly to himself but he’ll use the proverb with others when appropriate.

Emotional variants include his voice getting squawk like when scared. He also laughs like a mad pelican.

Clayface

I forget who came up with this originally and I'm kicking myself for not remembering but I've adopted the head canon that Clayface was an "aging" K-pop/drama star that was on tour in the states when his manager coerced him into trying an experimental cosmetic treatment that turned him into Clayface.

So Clay has a very strong Korean accent and probably speaks the worst English out of all the rogues.

It's passable but he understandably just wasn't expecting to need it this much.

Despite his difficulties he still somehow gains control over the majority of his conversations and seems to exude likability.

He's trained for years to make his voice as soothing and pleasant as possible and he's not going to let being a mud monster ruin his hard work.

Until something triggers his traumatic memories and sends him into a frothing rage full of bubbling curses or a depressive meltdown where he becomes a pile of blubbering goo.

He's totally incomprehensible when he's having either kind of breakdown even to other Korean speakers, honestly HE doesn't even really know what he's saying.

Many of the rogues have hired him to put his acting skills to use in various schemes and Clayface is amazed at all the new voices he can do.

He's also been Music Meister's backup vocalist for a few of his schemes so you know he's legitimately good.

Bookworm

He has a rather general east coast accent.

Until he gets angry and starts cursing in Portuguese.

You'd never guess because he's an ashy fucker and his skin never sees the sun since he spends all his time reading inside, but the guy is mainly indigenous Brazilian.

You might be able to get a clue from his facial features if he wasn't wearing the world's thickest glasses and a hat.

He has near permanent "Library voice" so people often struggle to hear him above everything else that might be going on.

His voice is surprisingly sonorous and captivating when he can be well heard.

Since Arkham doesn't often get new books, fresh literature was fought over until Joker suggested "AudioBookworm" which is just Bookworm reading the new book aloud for everyone.

Until his little used voice gives out a bit at which point Scarecrow or Mad Hatter will step in until the end of the chapter.

Mr. Freeze

Victor has a moderate Icelandic accent.

Riddler and Joker have a competition going to see how many lines from Skyrim they can trick him into saying.

Victor figured it out immediately but plays dumb to this day in order to fuck with them.

He said "Hey, you. You're finally awake." to Edward after he woke up from a nap in the rec room once and Victor will treasure the face that nerd made forever.

Victor has a bit of a "resting bitch voice" he always sounds annoyed.

Unless he's talking to Nora, then he just sounds like a simp.

Not really a voice head canon but he gets hiccups very easily from laughing.

BONUS Nora

Nora is from Belarus so she often got mistaken for having a Russian accent.

But unlike Oswald she rarely cares enough to correct people much less get angry over it.

Nora speaks with great confidence and authority, even when she doesn't necessarily have either.

Her voice definitely broadcasts "Don't even fucking THINK about arguing with me."

The personality and accent get her the nickname "Ice queen" wherever she works.

Which is very unfair, she's a kind and compassionate women!

She's just also right and she should say it.

Nora's voice becomes utterly saccharine around Victor, they're absolutely obnoxious to listen to together.

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