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SUMMARY: a visit to the albon home and an unwanted phone call has you questioning what you want.
WARNINGS: teasing, lwk lots of subtle and non-subtle angst, desi and thai culture (food, songkran, and fighting), potentially horrible representation of songkran, domestic fluff, alex is so more than downbad i stg, poor humour // not proofread
Alex looked over the trunk of his car for the fifth time, ensuring he wasn't missing anything for the trip down to his mother's. He had ensured the water balloons were packed. Three times. They were definitely there. And if anyone of his ungrateful siblings complained... he swore to God, they’d never hear the end of it.
"Um... I always feel really awkward without showing up with anything. So..." Your voice perked up behind him.
Alex turned from his car, eyes falling to your large tumbler of semi-orange liquid swirling around. He blinked with surprise, familiar with the colour instantly. Cha Nom Yen. "Iced tea? When did you even make this?"
It was currently nine-thirty in the morning. Alex had only woken up at eight by which point you were in the shower. He couldn't recall any clangs to indicate you were making something.
"Woke up a little earlier. And yeah. I had all the ingredients on hand so... iced tea. Well, without the ice for now," you chuckled nervously before your tight smile fell. "Unless I should pack some? We could go get some on the way maybe. How long does it take to get there again? Do you think it would melt on the way?"
A soft chuckle fell from his lips, covering the warm swell in his chest as he detected the worry in your face. He gingerly grabbed the tumbler from your hands. "___, my mother has ice in her house," he reminded with an amused grin.
You pursed your lips while a flush of embarrassment enveloped your cheeks. "Oh... right. Ha... I knew that," you mumbled.
Alex smiled hard to himself as he tucked the tumbler away in snuggly between the other items. "Thank you though. You didn't have to do that," he breathed, closing the drunk after one final look over. He raised a brow when you didn't respond. He watched you idly stare into space, clearly overthinking about something.
He sighed, resting his back on the rear of his car, arms deliciously folded to grab your attention. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're nervous."
You blinked at the ridiculous accusation. You huffed, tilting your head at Alex. "I don't get nervous, Alex. I have nothing to worry about. People love me,” you narrowed your eyes at him before turning on your heel, heading towards the passenger seat of his car.
Alex pursed his lips, feeling his car rattle underneath him as you closed the door. "That's my girl," he chuckled, shaking his head. With a quick exhale, he looked at the road ahead, pushing himself off the car to get into the driver's seat.
Home sweet home... here we come.
"Alex," you warned, brow pointed as you felt his large hand creep down your thigh as he drove, flirting with the fabric of your skirt, fingers teasingly rising it up your leg.
Alex took a brief glance at you, corners of his mouth lifting. "What? I'm just resting my hand," he said innocently, turning the wheel to match the curve of the road.
You rolled your eyes. Yeah, you didn't believe that for a second. "Why can't we have a simple conversation without you acting like a neanderthal?" You retorted, folding your arms while you peered out at the endless trees in the distance.
He gaped at your words, offence clearly written all over his face. "Well, they say like calls to like."
A gasp fell from your lips, head snapping to him. "Its 'opposites attract,' Alex," you muttered, knocking his hand away from your leg. How dare he insinuate you were anywhere near his barbaric levels of sex drive?
"Okay, okay," he chuckled, returning his hand back to your leg. This time simply resting as he so claimed. Mostly idle, fingers trailing over your knees. "What did you want to talk about then?"
You hummed, looking back out the window. Definitely not about anything related to you. You had poured too much of yourself in front of him in the past few weeks. "What's your favourite memory of Songkran?"
Alex blinked at your question, not expecting something so oddly profound so early in the morning. He mulled over it as though he was thinking. But the truth was the answer was on the tip of his tongue. It was one of those things he had never really confessed to anyone. Not his family. Not to George.
Every time he thought about it, his chest tightened and his heart always ached. It never quite got easier.
You turned to him, noticing the distant look on his face. You frowned. Fuck. "I'm sorry. That's a horrible question. I'll think of another o—"
"The first one we celebrated when she first came out. That's my favourite," he slowly murmured, voice thick, brown eyes focused on the road.
You blinked, swallowing hard. Oh God... You shook your head. "Alex, you don't have to say anything. Really," you breathed tightly, smile light as the guilt started to creep up on you.
"No. It's okay. I want to," Alex smiled quietly, not quite strong nor weak. Just... there. Solemnly existing.
"It kinda felt like a true beginning, you know? All of us there, together after so long. Laughing. Eating the food she made. Actually talking. Purposely making horrible jokes just to see her smile for a little longer. A fresh new chapter. With her. As a family. There was this one moment. Luca tried to show a magic trick he had learnt. It was so bad. So bad," he chuckled fondly, smile becoming wider. "I remember turning my head while everyone teased him. And I could see it. The light in her eyes. I promised myself that day. That I'd make sure that light was always there."
The silence in the car was thick. Rumbles of the road beneath and the wind the only source of sound. You watched the horizon with your blurry eyes, biting down on your trembling lip. You weren’t sure what was worse. That sweet memory or the jealousy you had felt. Never had you experienced such closeness with your parents. Constantly walking on thin ice around them.
God, you felt like the most awful person in the world for feeling this way.
You sucked in a sharp breath, hastily wiping your tears away from your damp cheeks. You cleared your throat, smiling gently as you turned to Alex. "That was a nice memory. Thank you for telling me."
Alex frowned, brown eyes darting between the road and you. "Hey, I didn't mean to make you sad," he murmured, hand moving from your leg to trace over where your tears had just been.
You shook your head, grabbing his hand with yours, leaving them intertwined on your lap. "I'm not," you whispered your lie. "Happy tears," you grinned, giving him a reassuring squeeze.
He mended his brows. "Has anyone ever told you you're a terrible liar?"
You pursed your lips, heat pouring into your cheeks instantly. "I'm usually pretty good," you sighed, drifting your eyes out the window.
"Yeah... not with me," Alex mumbled, thumb running over your hand gently. "I know you better than you think."
You chewed the inside of your cheek. "Better than Carmen?" You chuckled, head shaking. "No way."
He sighed, nodding in agreement, lips quirking with amusement. "Maybe not better than Carmen. But... one day."
Perhaps you should've said something to keep the sound of your heart from echoing in your ears. The version of you that you once knew would’ve said something.
"In your dreams, Albon," or "Maybe when pigs fly."
But you kept your mouth shut, letting it drive you a little crazy. Even silencing the warnings to move your hand from his, you sat indifferent by choice.
You leaned into the dashboard as Alex slowly pulled into the driveway. He had been recounting the neighbourhood he grew up in from the moment he had saw the welcome sign. School, the shops, the post. Where George and him and his first fight. Or that one day when he decided to run away from home and walk all the way to George's house.
But this was probably the most important part of it all. His cosy, well-loved home with all his well-loved animals roaming around. The Albon Zoo.
"Well," Alex breathed out, parking the car while he fondly looked over the place. "It's a lot much but it's home."
You smiled quietly to yourself, trying to imagine little Alex Albon running around here. "It's perfect," you murmured, eyes wide while you traced over all of your new surroundings, matching them to the small stories you had heard over the past few years. George's memories. Alex's versions of them. They all seemed to fit in place.
Alex turned to you; chest warm and brain giddy. He sighed with content, tapping your hand. "Come on then."
You nodded in agreement, opening your door. The peace and quiet was brief. Fresh air momentary before chaos came in the form of a water balloon hurled at Alex. Your eyes fell wide once again, head snapping to Alex on the other side of the car, positively drenched from his side.
"Oh that was good, Zoe!"
You blinked, turning to the familiar looking siblings lined up, buckets and water guns at hand. Oh wow... Armed and prepared.
Alex looked down at his left side, shirt wet and stuck to him. He put a hand on his hip, staring at his siblings in disbelief. "You were the one who told me to buy water balloons," he pointed.
Alicia grinned. "Happy New Years," she simply said before turning to you. "____, right?"
You nodded silently, feeling stuck in between whatever war was about to ensue.
Luca held out the bucket of water balloons to you without a second thought. "It's us against Alex."
Alex's eyes widened, head turning so fast he got whiplash. "Huh?! Ow, shit," he winced as he rubbed his neck. He cautiously walked towards you, soft smile on his face. "____, don't listen to them. They're idiots. Come join the right team, yeah?"
Your eyes flickered between the two brothers. You swallowed. Decisions, decisions, decisions... You smiled regretfully. "Sorry. I can't really pass up the opportunity to hit you without repercussions."
Alex's mouth fell. "You..."
"Attack!" Someone screamed. Chloe, you think.
And so it began. The chaotic warzone of colourful flying water balloons and targeted streams of water. Alex rushed to defend himself, long arms covering his body, immediately yelping at the catapults of water drowning him. You could barely hear yourself think. Shouts and cheers coming from either direction while you all ran around the driveway.
You could only chuckle while you aimed for his chest (definitely not for any particular reason), hearing the loud splat of liquid hit him fair and square. The five of you cornered him in seconds. Your feline audience watched from the windows and the horses from their pens. It was Otto, the ever-friendly Border Collie, that jumped along with you, evidently on your side.
"Okay!" Alex shouted, wiping his soaking face with his arm, looking out through one eye. "Truce! Truce! You're going to blind me like this!"
Zoe narrowed her eyes at her brother, looking at all of you, asking whether everyone believed him. "Racing made you soft," she sighed dramatically, arms falling to her sides.
A coy grin stretched onto Alex's face. "Not too soft hopefully."
You couldn't tell who shrieked first. Alicia or Zoe. But it was worthy as their brother got a hold of the pre-filled balloons himself. It was you, Luca, and Chloe and the frontline, defending the targeted.
"Oh shit," Luca cussed as he rapidly pressed the button for more water, but none came out. He fretfully looked down at his empty water gun and then up in horror, finding the haunting beam of his brother staring back. "Fuck! I need cover!"
You and Chloe looked at each other, sighing at you tried to maintain the gaping hole in your defence. Luca, who was probably far too excited about this, now out and reloading. You weren’t sure if it was Alex's overall largeness or just Alex himself, but he had taken out his sister with hands like a windmill, passing and hurling water balloons like there was no tomorrow. Leaving you to defend by yourself.
You swallowed tightly, trying to muster a joking smile. "Alex... Come on... you know I'm a guest here. What was I supposed to do?" You raised your hands slowly, braving your defence.
Come on... someone had to come and save you.
Alex raised a brow, playing with the balloon in his hand casually. "Yeah. My guest. You had a choice. And you chose them over me? You don't even know them yet!" He exasperated, evidently upset.
You gave him a bland look. "The choice was hitting you with a water balloon," you deadpanned, eyes cautious of his every movement. "How could I say no?"
You sucked in a sharp breath as he leaned forward, armed hand moving along. Instinctively your eyes closed, waiting for the splash. But it never came. At least not from the front.
You blinked as you and Alex both looked down at the large, darkened patch of fabric on your skirt.
"Shit, sorry! That was for Alex," Alicia winced from afar.
You pressed your lips tightly, flickering your eyes over to Alex with an awkward smile. "Truce?"
With a grin plastered over his face. "Hard pass."
And although he had denied it, the truce been claimed as the water balloons with no true target in mind. Luca and Zoe trying to get the upper hand on Alicia and Chloe. A sibling-on-sibling war. It was your wail in the air as Alex hurtled the spherical water towards you, more resting in his other hand.
With your eyes wide and frantic, you looked for some sort of salvation. Much to your luck was Otto nearby, playing with the running hose, playful barks echoing. With one swift move, you grabbed it, directing it towards him.
"Oh come on. How is that fair?" Alex exclaimed, dropping his water balloons onto the floor, eyes wincing to protect themselves as his hands went up at the stream of water pouring over him.
Your laugh made his ears perk and his heart skip. "Now this is what I'm talking about!" You cheered almost a little too happily. All short-lived, however as you stared at Alex's standing figure. Not moving. Not doing anything really.
You blinked as Alex walked against the curve of water, bracing it in all its chaos. "Ah fuck," you muttered to yourself.
It took a matter of seconds before Alex had one hand wrapped around your waist, chest to your back, drowning the both of you in a merciless amount of water. You grunted in annoyance, hand fighting for control over the hose. "Alex!"
"Not so cocky now, are you?" Alex's laugh echoed around your body.
For a brief moment. No one could describe the absolute sheer amount of happiness coursing through the air. Not of the siblings half-crying out of laughter with every pelted water balloon. Nor how hard Alex's cheeks hurt from smiling. Or how your stomach ached from laughing too hard.
it was a beauty in of itself. No explanation needed. No snippet that would do it enough justice.
"And here I was wondering what all this noise was."
You all paused, shifting your attention to Alex's mother, Minky, leaning on the door frame with a grin. You swallowed hard, pushing yourself out of Alex's arms, tugging on your shirt to make yourself look more presentable as the heat flushed into your cheeks.
Talk about first impressions.
"Towels and clothes first and then lunch," She sighed, shaking her head before entering back into her home.
You cleared your throat awkwardly, half-damp hair framing your face and small towel hanging around your neck. You stared at yourself in Alicia's mirror, eyeing her clothes on your body. "Sorry for the trouble," you sighed, turning to the three sisters.
Alicia only smiled, seated on her bed as she dried her hair. "Don't be. You couldn't have expected a water balloon fight straight off the bat."
Zoe nodded, putting down her phone. "We wouldn't of subjected you to that if we knew you were coming. Although, I will say you made it a lot more enjoyable. The more people against Alex, the better."
You chuckled softly. "Sorry about that too. Alex invited me but I'm intruding," you rubbed the back of your neck. You had partially said yes on a whim. The other part of you not wanting to be alone for the weekend.
Chloe mended her brows, running a hand through Moomoo's fur. "No way! You've been so busy with the wedding and working... we've been dying to meet you," she heaved dramatically.
Alicia watched you blink, mulling over her sister's words carefully. Like you were trying to decipher how much they knew about you. The sight made her grin. "We've heard a lot about you in this house."
You tipped your head slowly. “Right… I can’t imagine they're all good things considering it’s Alex and George," you muttered, head starting to fill with all the possible stories and memories that could have been recited. And the more you did, the more unsure you felt. You had yelled at Alex quite a few times. Okay maybe a lot of times. Teased George relentlessly. The pair together was just easy for you to take down. No... any good things were out of the question.
The girls chuckled gently as Chloe stood up from the edge of her sister's bed. "They've all been good. Pretty, nice, hardworking, gorgeous, kind-hearted... I mean the list of adjectives goes on."
You mended your brows despite the heat pouring into your skin. "That does not sound like Alex,” you mumbled. Or reflective of reality, you wanted to add. In fact, none of this seemed to add up. Almost six years of fighting back and forth and this was the rep you had earned in his house? One of saint?
Zoe grinned. "As annoying as he can be, he's a lot nicer than you think."
You pursed your lips. Months ago, you would’ve refuted the idea with some witty comment on the tip of your tongue. But nothing seemed to rattle your brain. God, what was wrong with you? Had you really gone soft over some good sex?
"Can you guys hurry up?" Luca yelled from downstairs. "I'm starving over here."
The comment earned an eye roll from Chloe. "We should leave. The prince awaits."
Your brows raised with surprise as your eyes glossed over the dining table full of food. The colours seemed to be endless as much as the choices. Rice dishes, curries, salads, and then the bowl of mango sticky rice already calling your name. You smiled to yourself. You had never seen a table quite like this. Made for more than three. So much to go around and so much to share.
"You guys took forever," Luca sighed dramatically, eliciting a whack from Alicia to his head.
"Thank you for this, sweetie," Alex's mother smiled at you as she placed down your tumbler of iced tea now full of the ice she most definitely did have. "And thank you for joining us! Especially on Songkran. I know you're a busy woman."
You breathed in, hand waving in dismissal, not giving the time to process how much everyone seemed to know about you. "Pfft... no problem. I should thank you for letting me like... barge in," you chuckled awkwardly and unrecognisably. God, you weren't always like this in front of new people, were you?
Her shoulders shook with amusement. You were as endearing as Alex said you were. She gestured for you to take the seat across her as her eldest came in, ruffling Chloe and Zoe's hair with ease.
"Alex!" Chloe grumbled, slapping away his hand. "God, can this break end any quicker?"
Alex narrowed his eyes as he passed his mother to take his seat, lips briefly pressed against the side of her head. "Took the words right out my mouth," he hummed, sarcastic smile stretched onto his face while he sat next to you.
There was that saying. 'Time flies when you're having fun.' You never really knew how much truth there was to it until now. Because the minutes seemed to disappear as countless stories were shared and retold. Laughs and exclaims echoed throughout the home. Everyone, with their own lives, converging into one.
You found it hard to forget the sight of Alicia and Zoe crying with laughter and their mother holding her stomach as Luca recited his most recent experience at work. Or how attentive Alex and Chloe were, ensuring everyone's plates were being replenished every now and then. Or how many questions you had gotten despite being the local celebrity in the house.
You noticed how there was not one comment or question about racing. As though in these four walls, it was an unwritten norm. You could see how much more comfortable it made Alex too. One moment where everything wasn't about him. But about the people he loved. That there more to him than a track and a car.
You blinked at the gentle nudge to your knee, head turning over to Alex. You raised your brows.
"You okay? You been so quiet," Alex murmured as the conversation continued around you. It wasn’t usually like you. By now he thought you'd have entirely thrown him under the bus, joined in on every degrading conversation his siblings had told. But instead, you had only spoken up a few times, leaving him wondering whether you were indeed having a good time or not.
You swallowed at the slightly concerned brown eyes wavering over you. You smiled lightly, giving him a brief nod. "Is it weird to say I don't think I've been happier?" You whispered.
He raised a brow. "More than Carmen's wedding?" He teased.
You huffed, amusement washing over your face. "Don't push it now."
Alex grinned, looking over the table, able to match your tone to the atmosphere, taking a step into your shoes. He nodded after a moment. "As annoying as they are... they're pretty cool," he sighed, rolling his eyes as he turned back to you.
You chuckled softly, falling quiet at Alex's warm gaze. Time as it stood seemed still with neither of you quite looking away. From all angles, the seconds were far too long. Long enough for you to describe the different shades of brown in his eyes. To understand that your happiness was mirrored in those very eyes.
It made your stomach churn. Giddy almost.
But you had heard it. The incessant vibration of your phone that brought you back to reality. You both blinked, taken aback as you looked away. Releasing the breath you had unintentionally been holding, you grabbed your phone, sending him an apologetic smile as you stood up and excused yourself.
The fresh air felt cold against your skin as you stepped outside, shaking off the strange whir in your heart. You looked down at your ringing phone, sighing at the name sprawled across the screen.
"You aren't home. It's your day off," your mother stated so obviously. "Why didn't you tell me you were going out?"
You pinched the bridge of your nose tiredly. You knew it was a mistake syncing your work calendar to your parents' phone. You should have just created a fake calendar. "Because I'm an adult pushing thirty and we're not talking," you simply said.
A sigh could be heard from the other side. "Beta, stop being so stubborn. It doesn't look good. What will people say if they learned I gave you such manners?"
You closed your eyes, biting down on your tongue to stop the first few unthought sentences from coming out and making matters worse. You breathed in slowly. "Then they'll know where they came from," you retorted, leaning back on the cladding of Alex's house.
Your name came spilling from her mouth in an instant, basked in reprimand. You pursed your lips. "You know this call isn't really sounding like an apology or anything really," you grumbled, eyeing the patches of grass in the distance.
"I really don't understand what had gotten into you, ___," your mother huffed, mother tongue flowing easily as her temper climbed as quick as yours. "I'm providing you guidance. I'm being a good parent, and this is the thanks I get? What have I done to get such a daughter?"
You had heard those words time and time again over the course of your life. Often said when things weren't going her way. And yet, the pure annoyance you felt never quite felt the same. Always worse than the time before.
It was hard to imagine you were living the some of the happiest moments in what was relatively a stranger's house just moments ago and now you were standing outside, skin burning with anger, jaw clenched, and frown fixed. Any time you even felt a bit jubliant, your mother seemed to know the perfect time to take it away.
You pulled your phone away from your ear, staring at your screen as your mother's voice continued to work through the speakers, her scold endless. With your shoulders heavy and your eyes tired, your thumb glided over the button, pressing it without another second thought.
You breathed in, turning your phone off and tucking it into your pocket. Folding your arms, you tried to welcome the sudden silence despite the echoes in your ears and despite the immediate guilt in your chest.
No. You need this. Just for one moment. No work. No nagging. Just fields of grass and an endless number of animals roaming around.
You took one more deep breath in, nodding firmly to yourself. "Yeah. Grass and animals. That’s definitely what it is," you mumbled as you turned on your heel, heading inside.
"And this is where I grew up," Alex mumbled, leaning on the doorframe as you entered his childhood bedroom.
You raised your brows at the spotless room. It seemed unchanged, representing the few peak years of his childhood he had spent in here. Dark blue walls littered in posters of F1 cars and different engine parts. A few drivers joined the mix too—Lewis, Michael, and Sebastian. Two shelves stood in the corner of the room. One full of mini figurines and books. The other of all his racing memorabilia. Trophies, awards, helmets.
You stepped forward, leaning into the photo frames sprawled on the top of his dresser. You blinked with surprise. Different countries. Thailand. France. Singapore. Belgium. New Zealand. All with different subjects: mountains, roads, storefronts, and people.
"You took these?" You asked in slight awe, picking up the photo of him in front of the Silverstone track with George as kids. You grinned at the sight. God, they were so little.
"Yeah. Thought if I couldn't bring everyone with me, I could bring some part of me to them," Alex explained quietly, still startling you as he hovered behind you. He smiled at your reaction, looking back at the photo you held. "That one's my favourite. I bet George for the first time that day."
You snorted, shaking your head. "Of course you did," you sighed, placing the frame back down. You turned, hands instinctively propped on the dresser as Alex hovered over you, arms on either side of you. You swallowed at the sight of his lingering gaze, forcing your eyes to drift around his room. "Well... this room is very you."
Alex hummed with a small smile. "Yours look anything like mine?" He queried.
You pursed your lips, thinking back to your room in your parents' house. "Well, when it existed, I had four shelves of books, a sad desk, and a bed with the hardest mattress in the world to ensure I was 'disciplined,'" you mumbled with distaste. "So... no. Nothing like yours."
He raised a brow. "'When it existed?'" He repeated, confusion apparent on his face.
You chuckled softly, folding your arms. "I moved out for halfway through uni for my placements, which of course, they weren't happy about. So my mum decided the only sensible decision was converting my room into a storage unit. She thought I'd be better off sleeping at the hospital," you rolled your eyes.
A frown made its way onto Alex's face. That was brutal. He eyed your bitter face cautiously, mulling over his future choice of words. But hell, he was sure even the nicest sentences were going to make you scowl. "___, I think you should try fix things with your parents. Your mum, especially."
You snapped your eyes to Alex, brows furrowed. "What?"
"The call earlier on... that was her, wasn't it? You didn’t look particularly as happy as you left when you came back," he muttered.
It was true. Even as you returned to the lunch, you found it difficult to smile or laugh for too long. Like your mind was somewhere else. Perturbed.
You blinked; astonished Alex had even detected it. Either you had done a poor job masking it or he had learned to know you better than you thought. You sighed, staring down at his carpeted floor. "It's the same old thing with her. I just wanted one day without her input but no..."
"You know she means well. All parents do. They just want the best for you," Alex murmured, hands moving to your shoulders with comfort.
You gave Alex a bland look. "No offense Alex but it’s different when your parents just want you to live for them. Almost thirty years of every single one of my choices reflecting on them. What people will think about them. Say about them. It’s exhausting."
He nodded slowly. "You're right. I don’t understand it. But as someone who didn't get a choice in whether mine were around or not, you should make up with them. Otherwise, you'll only have lost time. Time you never get back. Time you'll regret."
You swallowed tightly, a pang coursing through your heart when you spotted glint of pain in your eyes. You sucked in a sharp breath, hand moving to pat his waist as you nodded. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll think about it," you smiled gently.
Alex breathed a little easier, nodding with you. "Thank you," he murmured, kissing the side of your head, lingering for a moment.
You both jumped at the sudden sound of someone clearing their throat. You peeked past Alex's shoulders, cheeks instantly flaming when you spotted Alicia standing at the doorframe with a gentle smile. You pushed him away with a little force, giving your attention to his sister awkwardly.
"I just came to tell you that dinner's ready,” Alicia shrugged, smile growing wider with every passing second. "See you down there," she sang, stepping back from the door and heading towards the staircase.
You bit down on your lip, resisting the urge to sigh so loudly. For fuck's sake. You turned to Alex who seemed far more casual about this than you were. "How do you explain to your family that we’re… hooking up?"
Alex almost winced at the sore reminder. Right. This was what you were doing. Sneaking around. Hooking up. That's why you were here. At his childhood home. In his sister's goddamn clothes, chatting to his family like you had known them for ages. Kissing you randomly because that was what friends or acquaintances or whatever did.
He cleared his throat. "Trust me. Alicia won’t say anything."
You raised a brow. He seemed confident. "You're really sure about that?" You queried.
Alex nodded. Of course his sister wouldn't say anything. It was Alicia who had done all the probing around you to begin with, letting everyone in the family get a pretty good idea of how he felt about you without him even saying it directly.
"Come on. Let's have dinner before she comes back up here again."
Dinner went about as smoothly as you could have expected. It took all of five seconds before you heard one sibling complain to another—Zoe and Luca torn over what sauce was actually used in the main dish.
You had learnt of even more family stories. The ones about George staying over (which you would have to tell Carmen later). Alex as an animal-loving kid. The adventures of the three sisters and honorary sister, Luca. Small bits and pieces and of their lives you genuinely wished you were there for. Siblings... you had always wanted them. A selfish part of you wanting to distribute the burden of perfection. Another where you weren’t so miserable.
Because it allowed for simple moments like this, washing the dishes, memorable.
"So... you're a doctor," Alex's mother started, seated as you and Alicia cleaned up the remnants of dinner because you both refused to let her do anymore work for the evening. The four other siblings had been banished to take care of the animals before the night ended. She leaned her chin on the back of her chair, watching the both of you quietly. "How do you find it?"
You blinked, surprise sprawling onto your face as you washed the plates. You had heard that statement many times. People often retorted with, "It must be nice," or "how does it feel to be the perfect immigrant child?" Some sort of assumption based in it. But the response very seldom was "How did you find it?" Usually no one cared.
You breathed in, actually having to think about it while you continued to scrub the plate in your hands. "Um... the space and people can be challenging. Some days are harder than others, you know? In sickness and in health," you muttered with a small sigh. "The balance between reward and taking a toll is a hard one."
Alicia pursed her lips, drying the plate you had given her, curiosity beginning to climb. "Did you always want to be one? What did you dream about before?"
You mended your brows, rummaging your brain for an automated answer. But nothing seemed to come about. No matter how hard you searched or how hard you thought... you couldn't find a time where you had dreamt for yourself.
You flitted your eyes to the quiet stares, patient and that slight bit concerned. You forced a small chuckle from your throat, embarrassment seeping into the tips of your ears. "Probably whatever kids wanted to be at the time. Astronauts, artists, actors..." You trailed off, unable to move away from the first few alphabetical jobs you could think of.
Minky smiled quietly. "Well, I'm proud of you, honey. Not easy to go through what you’ve gone through.”
You swallowed her words, slowly scrubbing the plate in front of you. She probably had no idea what she meant. Or the extent of your situation. But the look in her eye and the warm tone in her voice told you that even if she didn’t quite know, she understood. A mother's intuition when you seemed to lack some in your own life.
Clearing your throat, you gave her a brief smile. "Thank you."
The quietness was momentary, lasting over the last few dishes you had remaining. Not awkward nor uncomfortable. Just stagnant and present as Alicia recounted a few things here and there about the neighbourhood or the family, filling in the stillness.
Stepping away from the sink as you dried your hands on the nearby tea towel, you moved your eyes from the empty sink to Alicia and her mother. You drew a quick breath and smiled. "Well... it's probably time for me to go," you murmured, giving a small glance towards the darkening evening sky.
Minky frowned, beginning to stand up. "Are you sure you have to go, honey? You can stay the night. We really don't mind. We'd be more than happy to have you."
Your chest ached at her warmness. With a brief heave, you nodded. "Yeah. The hospital doesn’t wait," you pressed your lips together. "Besides... you're already forcing Alex to drop me off when I said it was okay, so," you muttered with an awkward chuckle.
Alicia grinned at you. "He would've suggested it I didn't," she shrugged simply.
You blinked, cheeks warming at her slightly narrowed gaze. "Right..." You trailed off with a curt nod.
Minky kept her smile down and you watched her inch towards you with her arms out. "Come back anytime, okay? My door will always be open for you," she mumbled against your shoulder, patting your back as she hugged you.
You couldn't help but laugh quietly, returning the gesture. "That is a lot of trust for someone you just met," you teased, pulling back, finding Alicia opening her arms too.
"Between you and me," Alicia started, voice quiet and humoured as she hugged you, "something tells me she's known you for a while. All of us, really."
You furrowed your brows as you pulled away, confusion evident on your face. What was that supposed to mean? Like one of those connections from a previous life?
Alicia only kept grinning as Alex called your name, leaning on the frame of the front door as the rest of the siblings came pouring in. "You ready?" He asked, car keys in his hand, narrowed gaze flickering over his sister and mother. They were up to something. They always usually were.
You nodded, giving one last smile to his family. “Thanks for having me, guys. I really enjoyed it. Happy Songkran."
"I'm happy to find that the spare key I gave you is in use," Carmen said dryly as she found you sitting in her apartment, still in your scrubs, half-awake while you responded the never-ending emails piling up in your inbox.
You only sighed loudly, shutting your phone off, sitting up on her couch while you watched her lock the door, resting her bag on the table nearby. Your brows furrowed when she grimaced at the sight of your face. "What?" You grumbled.
Carmen fell onto the couch, body relaxed while she shook her head. "You look like shit. I mean you’re beautiful... but you look like shit."
You pursed your lips. Well... you supposed honesty was the first thing you could expect from this many years of friendship with Carmen. You rolled your eyes, tossing her the bag of crisps you had been munching on. "Yeah, well a bunch of idiots in the ER will do that to you."
She raised a brow, leaning in to eye the crease on your forehead. That was a lot of 'creasage' just for your usual ER assholery. "And? You seem to be leaving out something," she mumbled.
Hmm... perhaps there was such a thing as being too honest. But she was right. You were leaving out something. While you had informed her that you weren't particularly on great terms with your mother, you had also possibly left her to believe that it was all sorted out.
Evidently, that was not the case.
"She said what when you were at his house?" Carmen huffed, eyes wide after you had rebooted her system with the updated knowledge.
You and Carmen knew almost everything about each other. Almost. She had always known you had kept away from certain topics, especially those involving your family. And while she didn’t particularly like it seeing as she felt like you could share anything with her, she respected your choice. A cultural barrier she couldn't quite get past. But now you were here, sharing that part of you, leaving her to fit the pieces of your puzzle together.
"It's like she can't get past it," you sighed, rubbing your temples from the headache forming.
"And I get it. That's how she's been raised. But isn't there so much more to being married and having a family? Like how do you know that’s something you actually want and aren't socially conditioned to want? No offence, of course. I mean this is exactly why I moved out. I can’t stand having to hear about what she wants for me again and again."
Carmen popped a crisp into her mouth, mulling over your words. It was one thing for your mother to talk about your future and another to ironically add 'neighbourly' Alex into this mix of it. Between your lies, cover-ups, and what you didn't want to admit, the intersection of them all had entirely caught you out.
"Well," she breathed, looking back at you. "What do you want?"
You sighed, reaching over to grab some crisps. "I don't know. To be free? And make my own choices without having to care what people think?" You huffed.
Carmen pulled a face as she stared at you. That was probably your biggest problem in life. As tough and stubborn as you looked, you cared a little too much about what people thought. All of it wasn't exactly your fault. Your parents had embedded it into you since you were a kid. The desperate need to fit in when you didn't belong.
"You know... there's always a little bit of guilt when you start choosing yourself. But when you do, its like a breath of fresh air and the guilt becomes almost nonexistent."
You thought over her words carefully, brows beginning to furrow as you did. "What does choosing myself even look like? Being isolated in my apartment and changing my key so my mother doesn't walk in?"
Carmen rolled her eyes, folding her legs as she turned to face you a little more. Setting aside the crisps, she grabbed your hands gently, warm smile sprawling onto her face. "It means having time for yourself. Creating boundaries with your mother. Maybe... even choosing Alex," she murmured quietly.
You blinked. "What?"
A heavy sigh fell from Carmen's lips. "Come on, ____. How long are we going to do this for? You hated him. He... hated you," she strangely paused. "Sure, that's how it began but you can’t genuinely believe that what you're doing right now is just 'hooking up.' Friends don't take friends to see their parents some random day. To meet their entirely family. Can you honestly sit here and tell me you feel nothing for him?"
Your cheeks flamed at the voiced thoughts you had been thinking about for the past few weeks now. How abnormal things had gotten between you and Alex.
You breathed in, body tensing. "I thought we were talking about my mother. Not Alex."
Carmen snorted. "Yeah, like those aren't intertwined," she huffed, watching you clamp up all over again. She just didn't understand. What was it that got you so terrified and serious when it came to Alex and the future?
"Alex and I are nothing," you simply said, voice evenly strained as you remove your hands from hers. "There was nothing ever to begin with and it'll never be possible."
Carmen narrowed her eyes. She could almost hear it in your sentences. But I want it to be. She chewed on the inside of her cheek before speaking, "That's the fear talking."
A curt laugh fell from your mouth. "You sound like my mother," you muttered with distaste.
"You know I don't mean it like that," Carmen sighed, reaching out for your hand again. "Look. I don't know what it is... why you're so hellbent on being against this. But you're my best friend. I just want to see you happy, ___."
You forced the tight smile onto your face. "I am perfectly happy."
Alex breathed hard, sweat rolling down his skin as he looked down at his watch, eyeing the double digits he had just ran in the park. They were much further than he had expected. And despite his uneven breaths, he barely felt tired. He couldn’t explain it but ever since he had returned from visiting his family, he had had a surge in his energy.
It was an odd thing really. Smiling out of nowhere. Staring off into space. The air felt fresher than spring itself. Colours were brighter. The smell of nature stronger. As if no little thing could inconvenience him.
Because for the first time in his life, he had a little bit hope.
He had spent most of the past few years snubbing it, thinking there was no possible chance, no possible universe where you and him could've worked. Because what really was a relationship preceded by hate?
But it had been simmering the moment you had brought up the idea at the wedding. The moment he had walked into your apartment. And fuck, he had felt it when you met his family.
Sure. It was a corny realisation, if one could call it that. You hadn't entirely freaked out when his sister had caught you two. Watching you get along with his family, with his mother... join them as if you had known them for years... free of any judgement from what he had told you about his life... yeah, call him crazy but he was hopeful.
Alex smiled to himself quietly, trying to casually look at the bright sky without drowning in the sound of his own heartbeat thumping in his ears. He rubbed his face with his hand, taking a deep breath, head shaking. God... he was so screwed. He had known it before but letting himself feel more than he usually did, it just felt so good.
"Hey, Alex!"
He turned, blinking at the unfamiliar voice. His parted lips turned into a polite smile almost instantly, warmth in his chest dying down rapidly. "Hey, Emily," he greeted awkwardly. "What's going on? It's been a while."
Emily nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, it has. Well, you know. It's the same old thing. Work, sleep, eat... in whatever order," she sighed before perking up once again. "How about you? Here because of the cancelled races?"
Alex tipped his head slowly. "Yup... just training and making the most of this break," he shrugged, scratching the back of his neck as the silence began to seep in. God, let this just end now.
"Um..." Emily shifted on her feet, eyes darting around the park. "This is gonna sound really weird and random, but can I ask you a question?"
Alex pressed his lips together at the building hope in her eyes and voice. Lord... this was really about to happen, wasn't it?
He sighed, brain trying to rummage for the right words. "Emily, let me just make it clear and I should have ages ago, but I'm not looking for anyone. I'm flattered and you're a great girl, but I've found my person."
Emily blinked, cheeks flaming almost instantly. "Oh," she murmured after a moment. "I'm sorry, Alex. I must have read things wrong."
"No, no. That was my fault. I might have unintentionally led you on and I really am sorry," Alex added with a fretful smile.
She nodded slowly, lips stretched awkwardly. "It's ____, isn't it? Your person?"
It was Alex's turn to flush. He sucked in a sharp breath. "Seems to be obvious to everyone but her," he mumbled jokingly.
Emily huffed with amusement. "Probably should've realised at the club, huh? I tried to fool myself a little, trying so hard to make things what it wasn't. But the heart knows what it wants, right?"
Alex swallowed tightly. "Yeah," he whispered audibly. He gave her one more smile, light and warm. "But you'll find your person, Emily. I'm sure of it."
Emily laughed quietly. "Thanks, Alex. For what it’s worth, I hope you and ____ work it out. Maybe invite me to your wedding, yeah? I'll take some of that wedding magic in the air."
He snorted. "Fingers crossed," he sighed, audaciously letting himself think that far ahead into the future for a brief second.
God, he hoped.
"Hey, whatever happen to that baby in the ED?" Alex queried as you sat, half-slung across the couch in your scrubs while he cooked you dinner—pad krapao. Another trivial thing you didn’t want to get into. it meant nothing. It was just dinner.
You lifted your head from the second lot of research articles you had were getting through. With your brows raised, you stared at Alex in the kitchen with confusion. Remembering every single patient who came through your doors was never an option. If you were lucky enough, you could remember to have breakfast before you left.
You blinked before your face lit up with recognition. "Oh, the preemie" you deducted, returning your eyes back to the article at hand. "She's still in the NICU, but I will say she's a fighter. Mum's good too. We're not really supposed too but Sam and I go and check on her every now and then. You get a little bit of hope when you look at babies. After all the chaos, you know?"
Alex turned down the heat, nodding slowly as he inched towards you. Resting his arms over the head of the couch, he hovered over you with small smile. "Do you ever want kids?"
You almost choked on your spit, wide eyes peering up at him. "What?" You queried with disbelief.
He shrugged, still delirious after his run this morning. "We're getting into our thirties. Isn't this when everyone tells us to start planning or something? Don't you think about the future? I don’t know... kids, marriage..." He trailed off awkwardly, regret already pouring into him.
Perhaps this wasn't the best question to ask when you were out of work and he was carried away, in his own world entirely.
Hell. You were in hell. That was the only way you could explain it.
First, it was your mum. then it was Carmen. And now... now Alex, which by all means was far worse.
Future this, future that... what the hell was going on? Whatever happen to living in the present?
You raised a brow, putting your articles down on your lap. "Be honest, did my mum put you up to this?" You asked, pushing yourself off the couch, feet already inching towards your bedroom. Anywhere was better than the few metres holding this conversation. "Because if she did, my best advice would be not to listen to her. I'm just going to freshen up. Be out soon!" You called out, closing the door behind you.
Alex furrowed his brows, letting the sudden silence of your apartment fall over him. He had seen you shut down many things in his life. Most of which involved him. His nonsense. George's ideas. Carmen's odd opinion. But he had never seen you quite like this. Evasive.
"Is that a glow on your face? Like a love glow?" George queried teasingly as he entered his best friend's apartment.
"Shut up," Alex huffed, rolling his eyes despite the small smile on his face.
George grinned, taking a seat onto his couch as his eyes wandered over his surroundings. "No, I really think it is. You're smiling even though your car's shit. And your apartment's clean—"
"—My apartment's always clean."
"What absolute bollocks," George retorted. He had known Alex long enough and shared enough rooms to know that the man was well acquainted with the word 'pigsty'. Once he had lost his favourite car figurine in Alex's room at the age of thirteen. He had found it again when he was eighteen. The maths wasn't hard.
Alex sighed, opening his fridge to bring out the isolated beer bottles he had collected in his fridge. Technically they weren't supposed to be drinking. But they were going to be back on the tracks soon. One last hurrah and a kept secret from their trainers wouldn't hurt.
"So... how's the married life? Is it everything you ever dreamed of?" Alex kidded, grin on his face light as he passed the beer bottle to George and took a seat across him.
George raised a brow, corners of his mouth teetering as he brough the bottle to his lips. "Come on," he sighed, "you know this is more about you than it is about me. I'm solid. Life is near perfect withoutateenagerinmyway, but I digress."
Alex snorted before sucking in a sharp breath, casually shrugging his shoulders. "Nothing much really going on."
"Right..." George nodded slowly. "So you're not like deeply besotted... I don't even know the right word—oh, in love, with ___? Because last time I checked, you were 'not falling' and just hooking up with the idea that this would have no repercussions. Not, you know, getting her to meet your family."
Alex curled his tongue around the light, crisp taste of beer in his mouth and pointed to George. "You are a horrible friend."
A chuckle fell from George's mouth. "I'm your only friend."
Alex rolled his eyes again, head shaking as he sighed. "I don't know, George. It's getting harder to pretend."
"Are you pretending?" His friend queried, fingers wrapped around the beer bottle, one leg over the other and arm stretched out over the couch head. "You're just hiding under the name of hooking up. Everything you do is real and with intention. It’s just that ___ doesn't know that."
Alex blinked. There were a few times in his life where George terrified him with his knowledge. And this was one of them. It was like he knew exactly what to say.
"Okay... so I'm hiding. I'm not sure how much longer I can do this for. And yes, before you start, I know you told me this was a bad idea. But the lines have been crossed. I'm royally fucked and I have no idea what to do," Alex sighed, taking another swig.
George closed one eye in thought, lips pursed. "You could... I don't know... tell her?
Genius. This man was an absolute genius. Because yes, sometimes, the brightest ideas did in fact come from a midday beer. "Thank you, Einstein," Alex deadpanned, hitting George's foot with his own.
Sure, he could tell you. But then what? He could see the blowback from the present. Everything he had worked on... all those memories and conversations... they'd disappear. If there was one thing he knew, you'd a hundred percent pretend like it didn't happen.
George looked over at Alex, finding him deep in thought. "Alex, if you're seeing forever with her then show her you're ready to be her forever. You made a routine over the break. You're consistent and reliable. Now show her that you can be her future too."
i had a req about carlos and rebecca and reader threesome did u get to consider it it was a long time back
i would love if u could bring that ask to life ur gang bangs so goodddd i loved the rookies smut so muchhhh
could we please do carlos rebecca reader please please please
just re-read it after a good scroll through my inbox (so much stuff god i need to clean it up).
i have been intrigued since reading it! never done a fic like this before so it seems pretty hawt! i'll put it onto my list but bear with me bc it might take a while. <333
pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader, andrea kimi antonelli x gf!fem!reader
summary: kimi has everything oscar has ever wanted. and oscar knows kimi doesn’t deserve any of it. not the praise. not the wins. and especially not you. so when the envy becomes too much, oscar decides he’ll take it all from him. every single last thing that makes kimi happy. even if that means taking you.
warnings: fluff, LOTS of angst, jealousy, established relationship, very innocent and slightly dumb reader, technically infidelity, toxic childhood!bf!kimi, gaslighting, arguing, yelling, manipulation, possessiveness, kimi disrespects reader a lot, kinda cunning!oscar?, 18+ (minors dni), teasing, p in v, unprotected sex, degradation, public sex, voyeurism, handjob, poor humour // poorly proof read as usual
word count: 12.3k
a/n: based on this request! first piece of my 6000 follower celebration!!! letting you know you may be triggered at many points of this fic and that's okay! 😬
Oscar Piastri had never really let anyone get under his skin. Early in life, he had learned the art of calm and composure. Underreaction had always been the silent winner. No one ever got to him. Nothing really pissed him off. He treated people fairly. He always thought that if he went by the books, one day he'd reap the rewards.
But very quickly into his Formula One career; he had learned that was not the truth. And nor was he as calm as he once thought he was.
In the very same time frame Osar was supposed to be receiving praise and getting race wins, came Kimi Antonelli. The monster rookie. The new Verstappen who replaced the Sir Lewis Hamilton's seat.
It wasn't like Oscar hadn't heard of him. He had always heard of him down the line. The kid in the Mercedes' junior line up. A racing prodigy. A sweet guy with all the Italian charm. When he heard Kimi was racing in F2, skipping the previous level, he had even thought of extending his hand. Sure, you couldn't be friends with everyone on track. But it didn't hurt to try.
But Oscar was sorely mistaken.
The ego-boosting headlines and the compliments had gotten to Kimi. He walked, no—he strode with pride. Innocent brown eyes filled with a disgusting shade of smugness that no driver could fathom. His lips in a constant curved smirk. Complaints and complaints on the tip of his tongue when nothing went his way. The coy downplay of his achievements at such as young eage. How easily he manipulated Toto and Susie to get what he wanted.
It was different kind of art. A sick, satrical version of it. How easy the Italian charm had faded away.
And always by his side was you. Kimi's pride and joy. His girlfriend of three years, always wrapped around his arm.
You... You were the worst part of it all.
Oscar had seen you like everyone else had. You were simply gorgeous. Oscar could never forget how slowly his head had turned when you had first entered the paddock. The double take he had taken along with everyone else, watching your every move.
Everything about you seemed perfect.
Your sparkly wide eyes. Pretty painted lips. Soft, boisterous laugh. Perfectly styled hair. Perfume that made all in your trail dizzy. You talked with your heart rather than your mind. You were a good person. Pure. Whole. Anyone could see that from a mile away.
It was then when Oscar had locked eyes with Kimi, spotting that smirk on his stupid face and that evil glint in those brown eyes. A look of acknowlegement. Yes. It was you next to him. Not next to Oscar. Not next to anyone else.
Oscar would never forget that very moment where Kimi's head had leaned down just a little, lips gliding over your ear to whisper something that made you laugh while his hand creeped down your waist, to your lower back and right over your ass. Fingers slightly while as he groped you shamelessly. And not a second later, his lips were on yours, kissing you deeply and messily, tongue out without any hurry. Like there weren't any cameras on him.
He remembered your flushed cheeks while you kissed Kimi back. Eyes a little wide with disbelief but still you had kissed him anyways, smile apparent on your face. Small hands reaching for his sleeves to brace yourself.
Then there was that mix of disgust and anger that rushed through Oscar's body. He genuinely couldn't believe it. How could anyone dating you treat you like that in public? Like you were a plaything. A trophy.
And that's how it had gone on for months. That superiority Kimi welded with you by his side. Making you sit on his lap at dinners, hands travelling carelessly under the short skirts and dresses he had gotten you. Interrupting interviews just to go and kiss you on the camera. Letting those videos of you and him in the nightclub get posted where you danced together.
And while it seemed like things were all sunshines and rainbows for the both of you, Oscar could see the truth for what it was. Kimi had no respect for you. In fact, he was horrible to you.
Because behind Kimi's handsy fingers and clingy mouth were the arguments in the quiet parts of the paddock. The ones where he would make your pretty eyes cry and then pretended to kiss them better. Where he constantly made you question yourself and belittled you in front of others. Then he'd let your eyes light up with the fake promises of a future together. He didn't really let you talk to anyone either unless it made him look good.
And you had no idea. Simply believing him with your heart. The epitome of 'love makes you blind.'
You were like an innocent lamb in the dirty hands of Kimi's.
It had gotten worse this season.
The consistent wins and praise had made Kimi delirious. If he was careless before, he had not a single inch of it in him any longer. With the whispers of a Championship-winning car and a talent one people wouldn't see for years, he was driven by the foundation of immature confidence.
Perhaps that's why Oscar had heard what he had heard in China. Seen what he had seen.
It was Lando, Oscar, and George conversing between the Mercedes and McLaren garages. Talking about the cars and whatnot while the paddock had finally become quiet after the race. Some teams were still in their debriefs, some packing up. The sun threatening to settle, orange mixed lightly into the air.
The conversation was coming to a swift end, Lando and George citing how they needed to grab their things from their hotel before they all met for the private flight back to Monaco. The two of them had barely walked away before Oscar had heard it.
A deep mewl in the air.
Oscar blinked, brows furrowed as he turned towards the Mercedes' garage. He couldn't see anyone nearby. The place empty with a majority of the team still in another debrief. He would've taken a step back and joined Lando but then he had heard it again.
"Oh fuck!"
Call it curiosity. But Oscar's legs seemed to move on their own, defying the rules of non-personnel entering the garage while he quietly walked onto enemy territory. It didn't take him long to navigate, the ins and outs similar to any other garage. The sounds became louder and louder with every step he took. Yet he couldn't quite discern them.
But when he did, it made his feet stop and his blood freeze.
He stood outside of Kimi's driver's room. It not just any sound coming into the air. It's yours. Hands imprinting onto the blurred iced-glass door, your shadowed figure could barely be made out. Your moans travelled through the glass with bare deviation from the lewd, deep slaps of skin echoing around what felt like his skull.
"Louder, belle. Let them hear who makes you feel this good," Kimi grunted shamelessly. "God, you're so pathetic. This turned on when anyone can hear you. You make a good whore, don't you?"
His chuckle was deep and mocking. And yet, your trembling moans merged into the air.
Oscar could hear it. Your sharp pants. Desperate and needy. "More," you begged. "Deeper."
Oscar blinked, breathing in deeply while he took a shaky step back. Fuck, this was so wrong. He could barely think with your sweet sounds tainted by Kimi's disgusting insults. It felt like he was watching a crime being committed.
The struggle grounded him for a few moments. Not willing to move. But the idea of you reaching any sort of end with Kimi made a thin layer of bile crawl up Oscar's throat. So he moved before he could hear it, feet quick and light.
He was sweating by the time he reached the McLaren suite, mind haywired, breath erratic while he tried to block out those sounds. That was a mistake, right? Something he had come across on pure accident. Yes. That was it. Kimi wasn't so vain that he'd just put you out there for anyone to listen to. That was an accident.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
But by the time Oscar had reached the private jet, he had once again been proven wrong. He was there, backpack slung across his back and suitcase rolling next to him as he arrived to find Lando and George waiting near the stairs of the plane.
Oscar raised a brow. "What are you guys waiting for? Shouldn't you be onboard?" He queried.
"I..." Lando said wordlessly, awkwardly looking over at George who looked slightly paler than usual. Neither of them could bring it up. The mere idea too shameful.
"What?" Oscar pressed, sighing when no response was given. He moved forward, pushing past them to get up the stairs. By the time he was through the door, it had become evident as to why those two were waiting outside.
"Oh fuck. That's it," Kimi's voice flew from the bathroom down the aisle.
Oscar's fingers instantly tightened around his suitcase. His stomach churned with disgust as his brain familiarised itself with the situation once again. The sounds of you against one another was far less muted this time. Your whimpers curling around Oscar's ears.
He couldn't tell what was worse. The fact that the plane hadn't even gotten off the ground yet or the fact Oscar wasn't the only one subjected to this. His coworkers down below. The staff of the plane awkwardly trying to resume their job. All while Kimi was burning your dignity to the floor.
"You gonna cum for me, belle? Yeah?"
Oscar's breath quickened as Kimi's voice tightened.
"Tell me, baby. Who makes you feel this good?"
Oscar sucked in a sharp breath, annoyance simmering in his blood.
"You. You do, Kimi," you sobbed, gasp heavenly with every push forward harsher than before. "Kimi, Kimi—I'm going to—"
A smug moan fell from his lips. "I know, I know. Everyone's going to know how good I make you feel, belle."
Oscar regretted staying this time. He should've left the moment he had realised. He shouldn't have stayed to hear the sinful draw out of your voice nor the useless wavering grunt of Kimi's. Then he wouldn't of seen Kimi coming out of the bathroom, still shifting his pants on tighter, adjusting his zip with you following behind him, red in the face.
Kimi breathed with a drop of sweat worked up on his brow. "Hey, Oscar," he greeted, tugging at his shirt without a inch of shame in the world. He looked past him, spotting the emptiness in the jet. "Are Lando and George still waiting? I'll go them, yeah? Takeoff's soon."
Oscar's lips curled in disgust as Kimi walked past him, shoulder bustling into his before Kimi's hand, still covered in the musk of sex, patted him. His brown eyes flickered to yours, now seated with the imprints of Kimi all over you. Purple on your neck, hands on your bare thigh, poorly hidden beneath your skirt. You were tainted with Kimi. He swallowed, meeting your flustered gaze.
You gave him a timid wave. "Hi, Oscar."
Oscar's breath caught. He was sure that was the first time he had heard his name fall from your lips. He enjoyed the way it rolled of your tongue. It sounded much better than Kimi's. He gave you a hesitant nod of acnknowledgement. He couldn't peel his eyes away from the shame beneath your kind expression. He could feel the judgement pouring from the staff in the cabin. Remember the awkward look on Lando and George's faces. And it was all because of Kimi.
Oscar hated Kimi. He hated that Kimi had everything he ever wanted. An easy fight for a title. The potential to win more races than he ever had in his rookie years. And you. He had you.
Oscar was going to beat Kimi. One way or another, he was going to beat the stupid smug smirk off that Italian face. He would take everything that he had away from him. Even if that something was you.
It was a brief glimpse Oscar had gotten from you. But that was all he needed to stop in his tracks. The sight of you in tears, cheeks flushed, and hidden in behind some corner of the Mercedes' suite. No. That just wouldn't do.
You sniffled, tip of your nose red as Oscar placed down a cup of freshly steamed hot chocolate and sat across you. With a tight, thankful smile, you held the burning cup between your fingers.
"A-Are you sure its okay for me to be here?" You asked, eyeing the unfamiliar shades of papaya around you.
Oscar watched you quietly, nodding unconsciously. He blinked as your eyes drifted to his. The tips of ears reddened as he had been caught. He cleared his throat, nodding more definitely. "Of course, it is. I couldn't possibly have just left you like that."
You swallowed tightly, cheeks pouring with heat once again as you thought about how Oscar had found you just sobbing away. The concern in his eyes had been surprising. You had never seen anything like it before. A part of you wished you had. In a different pair of brown eyes.
Oscar pursed his lips at the silence brewing in the air. He sucked in a sharp breath, leaning forward. "I know it's not my place but... is it Kimi?"
You looked down at the mention of your boyfriend before smiling much to Oscar's surprise. "It was my fault really. I made a mistake. I just thought..."
He raised a brow. "You thought?"
You chuckled softly, blinking through your sore eyes. "It sounds crazy now that I think about it. I thought he was cheating," you laughed a little deeper, sighing as you shook your head in disbelief. "There was the girl and— well. He was right. I was overreacting. I just really thought..."
The ache in Oscar's chest was unwelcome as your voice grew small and strained. He blinked at your sudden smile yet again. "I was stupid, wasn't I?" You sighed, taking a sip of your hot chocolate.
"No, you weren't."
Your eyes flew to Oscar, wide. Your heart thudded in your chest, fear growing like diseased vines. What did he mean by that?
"It's not stupid to ask questions. That's the least you deserve. It's your right," Oscar murmured gently, fingers curling to move the loose tresses in front of your face but stuck at his side.
You pulled your brows together. That's not what Kimi told you. He always said questions weren't important. Useless, really. That only stupid people ask and answer. That's why he acted the way he did in interviews—disruptive and indifferent. But what you were hearing now...
You tilted your head, curiosity swarming through your brain. "Can I ask you questions then?"
A gentle smile sprawled onto Oscar's face as he leaned back in his seat. "You can ask me anything you want, sweetheart."
He watched you hum almost silently. Like you were thinking of all the new options you could explore. And for a split second, he saw it. That sliver of excitement swirling in your eyes. The expanse of your pupils. And it made his breath catch.
"Do you believe in aliens?"
Amusement coursed through his veins. There was something so mundane about the question. Out of all the things you could have asked... But he pushed down the quirk of his lips. "In a world of unexplained things, I think there's room for aliens."
Your brows pulled again, doe-eyes looking at him for a second. Maybe a second too long. Long enough for Oscar's heart to test new unhealthy rthyhms. "That's the most media trained answer you could've given. Nice job."
Oscar blinked at your response, brown eyes watching you stand as you looked at the digital clock that counted sixty minutes to the start of the first free practice. Sixty minutes that required you to be near Kimi. He breathed slowly upon your small smile beaming.
"Thank you for... well, just thank you," you mumbled, scratching the back of your neck sheepishly. You turned on your heel before pausing, head tilting back to the brown eyes still on you. "Question. Do my eyes look puffy?"
Oscar could've remained seated and told you from where he sat. But he stood, taking those few closer steps near you. The world seemed to slow as he leaned in, inspecting your face from a careful distance. Or the lack of. It was silent for a brief moment. "No," he decided.
You swallowed, releasing the breath you had unintentionally been holding. You smiled lightly. "Good. Kimi doesn't like it when they are," you chuckled. "Okay. Bye, Oscar."
Oscar pressed his lips together, biting down the distaste lingering on his tongue as he bidded you goodbye. His turmoil seemed to linger even when you were gone. Every time he thought he couldn't hate Kimi anymore, you gave him one more reason to do so.
The crowd roared as usual. A fundamental noise that your ears had become used to as you stood beneath the podium and metres away from the finishing cars. It was Silverstone. Classical and traditional. Every driver's dream race to win. And Kimi had done it.
You stood between the neverending Mercedes' team, dolled in Kimi's jacket waiting for for him as he did his final few victory laps around the circuit, basking in the cheers and exclaims pouring from the stadium. Yet, he wasn't the first driver you saw. It was Oscar, cladded in papaya, and the claimer of P2. You watched him down the line, greeting his team. And for a moment, you expected him to sweep right past you.
But someone at Mercedes knew him a little better, pulling him aside with a handshake. And then those brown eyes flickered to you and over the teal and black clinging to your shoulder with an emotion unfamiliar to you. But a smile graced his face nevertheless. Boyish as usual, you noticed.
You returned the gesture. "Congrats on second," you said loudly, hands curling over the barricade.
"Thank you," Oscar breathed, hand dishevelling his sweat-ridden brown locks, lines of his balaclava etched into his slightly reddened face. “If only I had one more lap," he sighed tiredly, reminiscing the hundredths between his and Kimi's finishing times.
You pressed your lips together, smile hanging awkwardly. "Next time. I'm sure of it," you nodded astutely, brows pulled with firm belief.
A chuckle fell from his lips. Cute. His head tipped in agreement. "Yeah. Next time," he mumbled. He took a quick breath in. "I was wond—"
Oscar's words were quelled as the supporting shouts grew louder with Kimi's pull into parc fermé. You both silently watched him remove his steering wheel, topping the his car with his fists in the air triumphantly. His small jump off was smooth after every recent win. You felt his head glide towards you while he inched closer to the weighing scale. Nothing decipherable about those eyes behind the helmet.
Kimi didn't waste a second. Helmet and balacava off. Sponsor watch on. Marching towards the crowd of teal and black. Marching towards you. Aware of every lens following his every move. His stagnant gaze on you purposeful. Gait with a force so casual yet demanding.
Forceful enough for Oscar to take a step back as he watched Kimi's hand, the very one with the sponsor watch, fall to your face and bring his lips to yours. The grandstands and pools of fans around cheer as expected. The cameras zoom in hungrily, too blinded to see the quirk of Kimi's lips. Instead disguised as the loving boyfriend depicted across fanpages and headlines.
But Oscar could see it. He stood behind Kimi, jaw locked, teeth clenching so tightly the pain swells in his gums. He hadn't realised it until Sophie, his press officer, put her hand on his arm to attend the trackside interview, grounding him back to reality. He swallowed tightly, taking a slow breath in and out before turning on his heel, fingers curled tightly at his side.
With every step closer to the cameras and the waiting interviewer, Oscar couldn't shake the image of you two out of his head. This was the very same guy who had sent you crying just a few weeks ago, leaving Oscar to pick up the pieces. Who had the sheer audacity to make you feel like shit just for doubting him.
What a fucking asshole.
Monaco was not home for Oscar. It would never be. Nowhere near as comfortable and easy as Australia was. He preferred the scorching heats and casualness of the people around him. Not the sports cars or luxury yachts collecting dust on the Monégasque waters. This was well and truly just a perk of his job. Nothing more, nothing less.
But just when Oscar couldn't find anything happy about it, a walk outside to get his groceries left him finding you nearby, eyes glued to the clothing store nearby.
You blinked at the call of your name, tearing your eyes away to find a familiar mop of brown hair. The smile on your face was instant. You waved in a way that made his cheeks tighten. "What are you doing here?"
Oscar breathed in, looking around the streets he had become used to, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts. "Uh, I was going to get some groceries. How about you? Not in Italy. Well, obviously," he chuckled awkwardly.
Christ... was he always such a loser?
You grinned, nodding in agreement. "Kimi finally moved in so I came to help. Now... I'm shopping," you said, lifting your arm with the few shopping bags you had collected so far.
He suppressed his frown at the mention of Kimi's name. "So I guess I'll be seeing you around more often?" He queried, brows raised with hope.
"Yeah. I mean maybe. This place is a lot," you laughed softly, eyes tracing over the endless cars, stores, and yachts. This was definitely not Bologna or even Milan. Monaco was a in a league of its own.
Oscar nodded. "It's overwhelming at first," he agreed, swallowing tightly as a new thought popped into his mind. "I mean, if you don't mind, I could be your guide when you're here. You can give me your number. Call me when you're around."
You mulled over his offer, surprise light but evident on your face. You never really gave your number to anyone. Especially not any of the drivers—Kimi's rule. But Oscar was just being nice. It would probably be good too. That way you didn't have to bother Kimi.
"Sure," you said, hand reaching out to grab your phone. "Give yourself a miss call."
Oscar's eyes lit up, faint smile on his face as he punched in his number into your phone, letting the call linger briefly. Satisfied, he saved his name into your phone. Oscar :)
"Perfect," you breathed, eyes crinkling with a thankful glint as you pocketed your phone. "I'll let you get back to it then. I still have a few more places I wanna see."
Oscar tried not to let his disappointment show. You just got here. "If you wanted some company... I'm happy to join," he shrugged, hoping that was as casual as it was in his head.
Your eyes widened slightly. "Really?"
"Yeah, sure. I know a few places too," he nodded, unable to understand your shock. As if Kimi never joined you—oh who was he kidding? Of course that asshole didn't join you. And if he did, it would be for him.
You grinned. "Lead the way."
You pursed your lips, eyeing the skirt you hovered over yourself as you stood in front of the store's long mirror. It was a sparkly little thing. Silver. Small. Sequined. Your eyes flickered to Oscar's reflection, finding him standing nearby some rack (as if he hadn't been quietly watching you). “Oscar, can I ask you a question?"
Oscar raised a brow, swiftly moving away from the rack he had been pretending to rummage through. "You know you don't have to ask that every time, right? You can just ask," he grinned, inching closer to you.
"Oh," you pursed your lips, blinking blankly as the heat in your cheeks grew. "Right. Sorry," you smiled lightly, looking back at yourself in the mirror. "What do you think of this?" You asked, gesturing to the sparkly skirt dangling over the hanger.
He swallowed. It was pretty thing really. Made him imagine things he didn't want to imagine. But as he had watched you, he couldn't help notice the light in your eyes missing. Or the frown of your lips. He shrugged. "You don't seem to like it very much."
You fell silent for a moment, eyes slightly wide while you blinked. How Oscar knew that... you had no idea. You sucked in a sharp breath, staring at the skirt in the mirror with a small pout. "Kimi likes these things."
There it was. The perpetrator behind everything miserable and unbalanced in your life. Of course, Kimi liked these things like this. Short and tight. It was a way to claim you in all those parties and night clubs. One hand always on your exposed leg or on the curve of your ass as he practically screamed, "Look at me."
Oscar bit his lip, pushing away the rousing annoyance in his chest. "What do you like?"
The question was simple. Yet it seemed to leave you stumped. Doe eyes a bit dazed. Lips parted. Like you had never really given that much of a thought. And that only worsened the ache in his chest.
You tilted your head, directing your gaze behind Oscar. "I think that's pretty," you murmured, eyeing the semi-long white sundress nearby.
Oscar turned his head. With no sly comment or look of distaste you usually recieved, he stepped towards it, grabbing the hanger with ease before bringing it back to you. "Then wear it."
You pursed your lips, unsurely flickering over the dress. "But—"
"Just try it. You won't know if you don't try," Oscar said, firm yet gentle as he took your previous shopping bags slung on your arm and moved them to his. He pushed forward the dress again. "Go on."
He watched you swallow awkwardly, gingerly picking the dress out of his hand before drifting towards the fitting rooms. He followed after you, stopping when you suddenly turned back to face him.
"Will you wait for me?"
Oscar blinked. He hated how foreign the idea sounded to you. That you actually had to question it because your piece of shit boyfriend couldn't spare one second that wasn't for him.
He smiled warmly, not missing a beat to respond. "I'll be right here. Don't worry."
You nodded thankfully as he took a few steps back, taking a seat while he waited. And with every second the passed, Oscar couldn't help but think of it. The few times Kimi would come with you. Probably when the fans were out or along with the paps. How he'd probably walk around, not paying attention to you. Picking out clothes that he liked. Standing there, convincing you that you liked it as much as he did.
The clothes were just one example. Oscar was almost a hundred percent sure it was Kimi who had gotten you to publicise your socials to get more coverage. Every second post being a photo of you together where you looked happy and Kimi looked like presumptous asshole he was.
Had Oscar spent an unhealthy amount of time looking at your account? Yes. Maybe. But he couldn't help it. It was almost intuitional. The more he found to despise about Kimi, the more he seemed to sink deeper into the world that was you.
"Oscar?"
Oscar blinked, head lifting up as though he had been called by a siren. He found you peeking out of the curtain with a fretful smile. He raised his brows curiously. "Yeah?"
"Do you think you can help me with the strings? Or find someone who can? I can't really do them by myself," you chuckled awkwardly, cheeks slightly flushing.
He was standing on his feet when you called his name. Walking as you asked. Without as much of a fight or resistance you usually experienced, he had said yes.
You breathed in, feeling the narrow confinements of the fitting room become even smaller as Oscar entered. You pursed your lips, eyes darting between anything and Oscar in the mirror. "Just... those ones," you murmured, hovering over the two long strings sitting at your lower back.
Oscar held his breath in his lungs, fingers stretching and curling around the two attached pieces. He told himself he shouldn't look up as he looped each string. Because if he did, he was scared to see what he'd find. But he did.
He wasn't sure what fucked up his brain chemistry more. The heat radiating between your bodies from something a simple as a little knot. Or the brush his fingers over the fabric of your dress. Or perhaps the bob of your throat as you caught his eye. Like he made you nervous. And that thought alone made him warm all over.
He fastened the last knot, watching your breath hitch. "There," he said, voice gruff and strained while he committed the sinful cling of the fabric to your body to his memory.
He kept quiet, observing your eyes drift over yourself in the mirror. He saw it. That missing light. The small look of approval in the quirk of your lips. "Buy it," he simply said. "If you don't, I will."
Your lips parted with nothing quite to say as Oscar excused himself from the room, finally taking a breath of fresh air. His lungs burned as if he had denied the right to breathe with you, happy to let you suffocate him.
"Jesus Christ," Oscar muttered to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose.
He was so fucked.
You swallowed tightly as Kimi threw his phone in front of you, left open with a picture of you and Oscar talking outside the store yesterday. He stood in front of you, arms folded with an incredulous smile on his face. "I called you here to help me," he said chuckled, shaking his head. "I mean... I can't believe you thought I was cheating. How hypocritical can you get?"
You blinked, scatter of red creeping up your neck and cheeks instantly. "I... we were just talking, Kimi. I bumped into him on accident."
The scoff from his lips made your eyes sting. Not an ounce of trust rested in him as much as it did in you.
"Accident?" He questioned, raising his brows with amusement. "Nothing accidental about that prick. Don't think I haven't noticed him being around you more often. I mean come on, ___. Are you his girlfriend or mine?"
You frowned. "Of course, I'm your girlfriend, Kimi," you instantly said, not missing a beat to respond. "Why would you even ask that?"
Kimi tilted his head. "You're asking me that? Then don't do things that make me question you, belle," he grunted, jaw tight. He sucked in a breath when he spotted the thin shine over your eyes. He almost rolled his own. Of course. You couldn't go a conversation without crying.
"Why are you being so mean?" You murmured, eyes brimming with tears, tip of your nose beginning to flush.
After a moment a sigh fell from Kimi's lips. He stepped forward, hands holding you at either side of your arms. He leaned forward, meeting your gaze, brown eyes suddenly gentle. "I don't want to be. You just make it difficult, belle. You know I love you so much, yeah? Don't cry. I hate seeing you cry."
You blinked, feeling Kimi's lips gided over your eyelids briefly. For a moment you felt like your soul had separated from your body. Like you were watching yourself from another plane. You breathed in, sniffling quietly to yourself as he pulled away, thumb grazing your cheek.
"You understand, hmm?" He hummed, tucking your hair behind your ear.
You smiled tightly, giving him a nod. "I understand, Kimi. I won't do it again," you promised, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. "Ti amo."
Oscar hated clubs. There was nothing more uncomfortable for him as an introvert. The loud music, flashing lights, sweaty bodies, and an unhealthy amount of alcohol. All features of a nightmare he's had time and time again.
But he was here. Under the strobe lights, music vibrating throught the floor he stood on while his eyes searched through the dancing crowd. He was here because you were here. A small detail you had slipped into your texts with him recently. A night out with the drivers and their partners.
Lando spotted him first, surprise evident on his face as he came closer. He eyed the blue jeans and black polo shirt his teammate wore and chuckled. "Well this is out of the norm. I wonder why."
Lando wasn't as daft as some made him out to be. Of course, things were a lot easier when his usually composed and calm teammate was riled up by the simple mention of you. Oscar had made the mistake many other drivers had once made. Everyone had seen you once Kimi moved up racing categories. No one was going to deny it. You were a gorgeous girl with a pure heart. But you were young. And that was always risky territory. That fact you were Kimi's... it rubbed everyone the wrong way. Where as everyone saw you for what you were, Kimi saw you as the shiny trophy to put his on his arm.
But no one had tried to go against him. The effort against someone so cocky and arrgoant was tumultuous. Formula One was already bad enough as it was. The last thing any driver wanted was an extra target on his back when they raced.
But it seemed Oscar had willingly taken it up. And it ws going well. By sheer luck or pure talent, he had finally thwarted the neverending Mercedes domination and Kimi's winning reign. With a few race wins up his sleeve, Oscar loomed over the championship leader with a confidence Kimi would almost find familiar.
"Shut up," Oscar rolled his eyes at Lando, returning his gaze back to the crowd. There was no question as to who he was searching for. And he found you where he had expected. On Kimi's lap. His chin nestled into your shoulder, hand over your thigh while he talked to Ollie like you weren't there. And there you were again, dressed in the clothes that your fingers threatened to tug down.
Oscar watched silently as your lips dipped towards Kimi's ear, whispering something that made him nod and made him loosen his grip on you. His own feet moved across the club before he knew it. But he wasn't so obvious, blending with the crowd as you seemed to near the bathroom. At least from Kimi's angle. But from his, he could spot the right turn towards the stairs immediately.
The strobe lights turned red as Oscar walked up the stairs. The atmosphere up there, though still loud, seemed different. Slower and slurred. Crowded yet less chaotic. And in the mix of it all he found you. Sitting in an empty booth, head in your hands, resting on the table.
"You okay?"
You lifted your head at the voice, ears perked instinctively. You breathed a little more calmly when you realised who it was. "Oscar," you greeted with a small smile though you didn't hide your surprise. You watched him slide into the booth, sitting across you. "What are you doing here? This doesn't really seem like your scene."
Oscar rested his arms on the table. "Doesn't seem like yours either," he simply retorted. He grinned at your pursed lips and briefly stoic face. Like he had caught you in a lie.
You sucked in a sharp breath, leaning back into the booth. "It's not," you admitted with a sheepish nod. The sheer amount of eyes and people made you want to throw up. "But—"
"But Kimi likes it... right?" Oscar bitterly finished, brows raised.
You smiled lightly, nodding once again as your eyes drifted across the dancing crowd, swaying a bit more softer to the electric beat. "I came up here to breathe a little," you mumbled. "It's better than down there. He would've found me outside."
It was silent for a moment. Just Oscar watching quietly and you basking in something that didn't have Kimi's name scrawled all over it.
"Can I ask you a question?"
You blinked, peeling your gaze away from the scene and back to Oscar. You furrowed your brows. That was usually your line. But hearing it come from his mouth was humouring. You smiled lightly, gesturing for him to continue.
"Do you like to dance?" Oscar asked. It was a bold ask. One that made him regret it almost instantly. Lodge his breath in his throat as he waited.
You folded your arms, pondering over his question. "At home. Usually by myself. Kimi doesn't really enjoy it anymore," you sighed sadly, corners of your mouth frowning. You had tried asking once or twice. But the outcome was always the same. He was too busy or too weirded out.
Your eyes fell to the outsretched hand in front of you and then to the standing Oscar. You raised a brow.
"Let's dance then," he breathed.
You swallowed tightly, thinking back to the night just weeks ago where you and Kimi had argued about Oscar. About the promise you had made. You rubbed your lips together, looking at him fretfully as your stomach churned. "I don't know if that's a good idea."
Oscar tilted his head at you. "Stop thinking about Kimi and think for yourself. If you want to dance, then dance."
You should've kept your hand to yourself. You should've gone back downstairs. Whether it was those brown eyes staring back at you or the determination in Oscar's voice, you couldn't decide. But you gave him your hand and let him guide you to the floor.
It was a tight fit with the occassional bump of a shoulder or body nearby. Your eyes locked under the flashing red lights as you stood in front of each other. The music you could feel through your heels. For a moment, you do nothing. Just stare at each other.
"Do you even know how to dance?" You asked with a small but teasing smile, eyeing his frigid posture. He was like a frozen block of ice. Unable to move. Cautious of the surrounding movements. The awkward tipped grin on his face told you everything. And it made you laugh. Earnestly and genuinely.
Oscar bit the inside of his cheek, preventing him from smiling too hard when he felt the brush of your head fall against your chest. He watched as you lifted yourself up, amusement littered all over your face. Your hair dishevelled, tresses flying in different directions. Eyes sparkling under the lights. Smile beaming at him. And he could've sworn his heart stopped.
"They say to just feel the music. Move your body," you advised, brows scrunched like you were trying to remember.
He raised a brow. "They?" He repeated with a grin. "Who's 'they?'"
You pursed your lips, shrugging. "Club people. You learn a thing or two when you just sit there."
Oscar snorted. There was something unexplainably enjoyable when you became a little more loose-lipped without Kimi nearby. He cleared his throat. "So... you just move your body? That what you said?"
You nodded, beginning to move your hands. "I think if you imagine yourself like a fish it works better," you wiggled your brows, trailing your hands across your body to the beat thundering around you.
For a brief second, Oscar laughed. But the picture of a fish dancing died in his head quicker as the rhythm filtered through his ears and his eyes fell to you. The world instantly lingered in his head. Siren. That's what you reminded him of. Every twist and turn of your body making the movement of your hair seem like some art.
He wasn't sure when he himself had begun moving. The bob of his chin. The shuffle of his feet. But he couldn't call it dancing. It was more the appreciation of you in front of him. Admiring how lost you were for just a moment in time.
He couldn't believe it.
How could Kimi deny this? Deny you?
To not dance with you was a sin in itself. The mere idea of missing this bright smile of yours... his fear grew stronger.
The gap between you and Oscar had substantially gotten smaller. Like it was the natural order of things. Heat radiated from every angle possible, the air thick with sweat and something you couldn't quite pinpoint.
You hadn't realised how close you were till you felt the glide of Oscar's hand against the curve of your waist. Your gasp was soft and barely audible. But you could feel the small electric sparks running down your body. You flitted your eyes to Oscar hesitantly and it almost made you take a step back.
He was looking at you already.
Darkened brown eyes strained with red underneath the lights. His large hand pulled you a little closer, letting you see the traces of his moles and freckles. Feel the heat of his skin against yours. The press of his fingers. The scatter of his breath. Any closer it would be his pacing heartbeat.
Oscar looked... good.
More than good. Hot. He looked hot.
You breathed in as he turned your body, leaving your back pressed against his chest. His arm curled around your waist. You pulled your lip between your teeth when you felt his lower half press into you. Not forceful or insistent. Just there. Teasing. And for some godforsaken reason, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away.
You swallowed hard, feeling his breath skim past your ear. His lips rested close by.
"The dress... Kimi's choice?"
Your thighs pressed together at his tight voice. As though he was struggling. You didn't understand the extent of the heat unfurling in your stomach. You had never felt this way. Not even with Kimi.
You cleared your throat, nodding against him. "Hate it?" You asked, breath shaky when you felt the tip of his nose graze the column your neck. You could've sworn your knees melted when you felt his smile lines ghost your cheek, lips brushing against the curve of your ear.
Your eyes widened slightly as you faced him once again. His hand never left you, snug and comfortably around your waist. Your body burned as he rested his head against yours, brown eyes holding your gaze so carefully. So heavily.
"I was taught that if I don't have anything respectful to say, I shouldn't say it at all," Oscar breathed tightly, jaw half clenched.
It was no ordinary beat your heart followed. With large gaps and ample opportunity to miss as you tried to decipher what he was saying. But before you could, it was Oscar who stepped away.
You struggled to catch your breath, staring back at him with your doe-eyes and your stomach churning.
Oscar blinked, brown eyes raking over you for one last time that night. Because if he stayed here a second longer, he'd do something he couldn't. He smiled at you, tight yet warm. "You're a good dance teacher, ___."
You hadn't talked to Oscar since the club. You couldn't quite bring yourself to. Neither did Kimi really let you, keeping you by his side at all times.
You were confused. You still didn't have a full grasp on what had happened. One moment you were dancing and then the other you were... God, you had no idea. You could just feel him. Hear him. See him. For a moment, everything was just Oscar.
But things had dampened down since then. You ocassionally saw Oscar here and there. You'd look. But you never quite did much more than that. Especially as Kimi fought with Oscar on track. Both contenders for a championship. Both their first. It was like a cat and mouse game. If Kimi won once, it was Oscar's turn the next.
And today, Kimi had taken back that victory chainmail, standing on the podium with a smirk so wide, you almost hadn't recognised him. Nor the extra clingy behaviour as he came off of it, kissing you, hand on your waist, and showering you with sweet little comments.
But you supposed this was why.
To have you all pressed up in the men's bathroom with rushed urgency after his media duties and debriefing. Shorts and boxers slung low around his legs. You propped up against the sink, skirt bunched up. His head tucked into your shoulder, groans and grunts muffled. Hips moving into you with desperation and pleasure.
It seemed Kimi had it all planned out.
Except for one little thing.
The door cracked open.
You weren't sure what it was. Whether he had genuinely forgotten or he thought no one was actually going to walk by. And well, if they did, it was only his ass that was going to be seen.
But you couldn't have counted for the possibility of Oscar passing by and stopping, frozen in his tracks.
Your heart almost stopped right there and then. Your eyes stuck with the brown orbs staring right back at you. Your lips parted. Perhaps with the intention to stop Kimi. But you didn't. You didn't understand why you didn't.
You hadn't been wet for the past ten minutes but now the slick was beginning to pile up. The squelch of Kimi's cock driving into you, lewd and obscene.
"Oh fuck," Kimi swore into your skin. "You're getting so wet for me, belle," he panted, grunting as his teeth nibbled into your shoulder. "So fucking wet."
You could see the bob of Oscar's throat. Like a deer in headlights. He didn't move either. Instead the press of his teeth against his lip made you moan against Kimi's ear. The first sound you had made since you had gotten in here.
You focused on the betraying pull of Oscar's brows at the sweet sounds pouring from your mouth. How his fingers curled so tightly against his side. You wondered what he could see. how much of you he could see. The thought only made you clench tighter around Kimi's cock.
"Cazzo," Kimi hissed, hands digging into your hips. "Doesn't that feel so good, baby? Yeah? I'm making you feel so good," he groaned, pushing deeper into you. The sound of your skin against one another now escaped the bathroom with ease.
You choked on the air, hand falling to Kimi's brown curls while you eyed the flush of Oscar's skin. How dark his eyes were. How they fell to where you and Kimi met, enchanted. And for a moment, your breath matched his. Every heave of your chest... it was like he was guiding you just metres away.
You could barely comprehend the heat in your core. All you knew was it was messy. Juices running down your thighs. So wet a ring of white formed around Kimi's cock as he pushed in and out of you. The soft sounds tumbling from your throat uncontrollably as you watched Oscar's tongue swipe his bottom lip.
Oscar should have moved. Like he had done all the other times he had heard the both of you. But he could see it in your eyes. With every praise Kimi gave himself or you... the only thing turning you on right now was him.
His shorts, unexplainably tight around his more than obvious large bulge, only worsened as he watched your hand move between your and Kimi's bodies. Your eyes never moved off of him. His own lips quirking when your fingers pressed against your desperately sore bundle of nerves.
Because Kimi couldn't get you off.
Oscar could have laughed if it wasn't for the situation he was in. Or for the fact he could see this new pleasure so clearly on your face. Your brows furrowed tightly, teeth sinking into your lip, cheeks red, eyes dazed... he could tell. You were close.
Kimi seemed to be too. Speeding his hips up against yours. Still in his own little fantasy where he was the one making you feel so good. He came quick, stuttering against you with his lust-driven grunts. He was decent though, still moving for you.
Oscar had to give it to him. If Kimi hadn't continued and left you there to fend for yourself, it would've been him taking out his own cock and making sure you saw stars.
It was wrong. God, it was so wrong. You knew it. Oscar knew it. But you had never felt like this. So... good. Still the mix of shame and pleasure coursed through you simultaneously, hand gripping Kimi's brown curls while your fingers pressed and rubbed your clit breathlessly. This was it.
"That's it. Cum for me, belle."
But it wasn't it Kimi you were listening to. At least not directly.
Your hazed eyes capturing the small, encouraging nods of Oscar's head. His uneven silent breaths. And you can see his lips mouth the words.
Cum.
Cum.
Cum for me.
Oscar wanted to fall to his knees as he watched the peak of ecstasy hit you. You were seeing white. He could almost fucking feel it with how tight your body locked up, your lips parted in pure awe. But especially as you ensured your eyes were on him for every goddamn second.
Holy fuck.
Oscar had to step away. Any moment now it would be Kimi turning around. And this... whatever it was, would be over.
The walk to his driver's room was faster than anything he had ever done. He did his bare duties; strained smiles and nods. A brush past the few team members packing up. His door was locked in an instant, back pressed against the wall, and his hand under his waistband.
It was a wonder Oscar hadn't cum right there and then as he looked down at his cock, hung with urgency. His red tip leaked profusely, throbbing with a need he had never succumbed to before.
He had been careful in the past few months. Not to get wrapped up with your name on his lips and his hand on his cock. Because that journey would never go down well for him. But that night in the club... his hand on your waist and your ass against him... it had ruined him. He had gone home, jerking off like it was the first time he had ever felt someone this close to him.
But this... this was different. Oscar's brain was rushing. No. Overflowing with what he had just seen. And he couldn't get it out of his head. The way your breath caught when he had walked by. The honey-like sounds falling from your lips. The obscenely wet sounds coming from your cunt. And the most damning fact of all—you had kept going after you had seen him.
Oscar bit down into wrist, face contorted with pleasure, moans muffled as he fisted himself. His eyes and hips rolled with as much desperation as you had just shown. It was almost mimickable how wet he sounded, shaft and tip just doused in his neverending pre-cum.
He couldn't decide what set him off. The orgasmic bliss on your face or the knowing that it was him. Him that made you cum. Maybe not physically. But it was not Kimi and his idiocy. Your fingers and his presence... that was what had done it.
Oscar's body convulsed, hips stuttering as the pleasure climbed over him rapidly. His teeth clamped harder into his skin, spurts of hot cum coming out in long strings. Leaving his hands and shorts stained with the mess you had created.
Removing his wrist from his mouth, he breathed silently and hard, staring at the idle components of his driver's room.
Jesus. He might have been fucked before. But there was no going back after today.
You couldn't count how many times you had been like this recently. And by this, you meant curled up somewhere and in tears.
You had been a mess since Kimi's race. What you had done... that was so wrong on so many levels. There was no beating around the bush. You had cheated. One way or another.
And it was humiliating. Because that was probably the best you had ever felt in your life. But not because of your actual boyfriend, Kimi. But because of Oscar.
You had skipped as much races as you could without Kimi getting suspicious. You couldn't look at him without feeling ashamed. Nor could you look at Oscar. He had sent you texts. Too many of them. So you had blocked him and deleted his number.
But you couldn't get out of this one. You could see the questions brewing in Kimi's head when he had asked you if you were coming. And you had run out of excuses.
You thought it would be fine. That you could get through this weekend without any tears or any fights. But much to your disappointment, you were wrong.
Kimi's fixation with winning had turned into agitation now that Oscar was taking even bigger chunks of points out of his lead. He wasn't happy with the car's performance during practice. He had given the team hell after it. And when that wasn't enough, you were the next available target.
You had lost count of the type of things he had said to you in front of the team. How you weren't supportive enough. That you never stuck through with him like he did with you. How it was your fault that his car, which you had no connection to whatsoever, was bad. That you had somehow bewitched Oscar into being good.
The message was clear: it was your fault.
Humiliation didn't even cover it. Mortified was more like it. The awkward gazes of the team. The tears ramping up in your eyes. Your flushed cheeks. You hated it. And you hated it even more because it was your fault.
So you sat on the dry concrete in Belgium, between the awkward space of two team suites, head tucked into your knees as wave after wave of anger and embarrassment hit you. Your tears had partially died down, caught on your trousers and shirt.
Your jaw clenched as you glared at the concrete, chewing your lip anxiously. Why did you have to go screw this all up? You should have listened to Kimi. You should have never accepted that dance because then you would've never found Oscar like this. So good. So ugh... you wanted to scream at yourself.
"Hey, hey," a familiar voice echoed into the air, making the hairs on your body stand up. “What’s happened?"
You lifted your head slowly, reddened eyes meeting the concerned brown pair staring right back at you. It was Oscar, of course. Bent down, knees embedded onto the concrete and hands on the sides of your own knees. Your chest ached at the sight of him and yet the anger seemed to roar in your head when you thought about what you had done. You sighed almost annoyed, tilting your head back against the wall.
"Nothing. Just forget about it," you wiped your tear-stained cheeks with the back of your hand.
Oscar's brows mended together at your reaction. As if it was a crack in the perfect glass world you had been living in. "___, you know you don't have to be embarrassed around me—"
"This is embarrassing," you gritted out, hurt eyes drifting to him. "It's always embarrassing that you always finds me like this. Crying like some pathetic waste of space."
"No. That's not true," Oscar murmured, head shaking as he tucked your hair behind your ears. "Kimi should be the one that's embarrassed. Making you cry like this," he said, jaw twitching. He could only imagine what he had said to you. Piece of shit.
You chuckled dryly. "I'm a horrible girlfriend, Oscar. What I did that day... that's unforgiveable.,'" you whispered, eyes tearing up yet again. "I deserve this. It all makes sense now. The paddock was never boring. People don't talk to me because they know how bad I am."
Oscar almost wanted to laugh in disbelief. How bad you were? All you had done was dance a little and feel the best you had ever felt in your life. All you had done was live a little and here you were denouncing Kimi's actions like he had done no wrong.
"Sweetheart, people don't talk to you because of you. They don't talk to you because of Kimi. No one wants to tell you but I will," he swallowed the lump in his throat, chest sore at the sight of your reddened eyes.
You sniffled, confusion visible on your face. "What?"
"That Kimi doesn't deserve you."
Your brows furrowed, affronted in an instant. The memories seemed to hit you one after another. He was your first for everything. First kiss. First time. First boyfriend. First love. He was perfect, wasn't he? "That's not true. Kimi's—"
"An asshole," Oscar cut in firmly. "Someone who loves you doesn't hurt you. Someone who loves you doesn't make fake promises. Or put limits on how you act. Who you can see."
You shook your head. No. Your Kimi wasn't like that. "He's just protective—"
Oscar's hands moved to grab your face, holding your gaze so fiercely, for a moment you forgot to breathe. "___, someone who loves you doesn't make you question yourself."
You fell silent, not bothering to wipe the fresh tears spilling from your eyes. Your brows quivered and your stomach churning. Your heart echoed in your ears while your brain flashed between your altered memories.
It was like watching some sort of stained glass shatter right in front of your eyes. Your perfect Kimi no longer perfect.
"He wasn't like that at the start. I swear," you whispered, looking back at Oscar, lip trembling.
Oscar sucked in a sharp breath at the crack in your voice. Fuck. He sighed quietly, arms wrapping around you and bringing you to his chest, lips pressed to the side of your head. "I know, sweetheart. I know."
"Can you stop brainwashing my girlfriend?"
Oscar looked away from his trainer, conversation coming to a screeching halt. His eyes travelled around the room, ensuring it was still cladded in papaya. He smiled at Kimi. "Are you even allowed to be in here?" He raised a brow, folding his arms, leaning back in his seat.
Kimi tongued the inside of his cheek. He was sure he had never met anyone as obnoxious as Oscar Piastri. "Did you hear me? Stay away from my girlfriend. Or else," he glowered, jaw tight, turning on his foot.
"Or else what?" Oscar goaded, making the Italian stop dead in his tracks and his trainer sigh. He stood up from his chair, eyeing the figure in front of him with disgust. "Kimi, piece of advice. You should probably try treat your girlfriend better."
It was like something in Kimi had snapped. Turning around with such force, the air had bended as he stalked up to Oscar, his breath in his face. "Don't fucking tell me how to treat my own girl," he spat, chest heaving.
Oscar's mouth quirked. "You treat her like shit and come here acting like you don't," he chuckled, shaking his head, brown eyes hard with annoyance. "You don't deserve her. You don't deserve anything you have."
Kimi blinked, scrutinising the man in front of him before letting out a scoff. "I get what this is."
Oscar raised his brows, bored and tired. "Do you now?" He asked dryly, not so easily entertained by Kimi's smirk.
"You're jealous," Kimi deducted, smirk widening with every passing second as he thought back to the past year. His debut compared to Oscar's. "I'm so young and yet I have everything you were ever promised. The team. The car. The wins."
Oscar, the master of composure, remained stoic. Not a budge on his face to give him the true inkling—that he was right. That this was how it had started. But that wasn't going to be how it ended. "If that's all you can think about after treating her the way you do... you are exactly who I think you are," he muttered with distaste heavy on his tongue. "She's not yours, Kimi. She's her own person."
Kimi stood in front of him, unimpressed as his lips parted to retaliate. But Oscar leaned in, lowering his voice to a more inaudible frequency. "And even if she was yours, no honourable man would leave his girl to get off by herself," he murmured with a gentle smile, basking in the drop of Kimi's smirk.
Oscar patted Kimi's shoulder with feigned condolences, heading towards the exit of the McLaren suite. Leaving Kimi to stand by himself, pale in the face and sick to his stomach.
Kimi had crashed. it was horrible. Pieces of the car flying everywhere. The gasp of the crowd. The bang of his fist against the snapped halo. The replay was all you could think of as you finally made your way to the medical bay, eyes glossed with tears, stomach churning, and heart pacing erratically. You hadn't taken a breath until you opened the door, finding him sitting on the couch, icepack to his hand .
You sucked in a shaky breath, feet rushing before you could even think your hands flew to his face, frantically examining his entire body for something that maybe the doctor or nurse had missed. "Oh Kimi," you choked, tears spilling. "A-Are you okay? D-Do you want me to call anyone?"
A piece of your heart broke as Kimi slapped your hand away with his bandaged fist, icepack falling to the floor. He glared at you, disgust swarming in his eyes. "Don't do that. Don't pretend you care."
You kept your hand close to your chest, brows furrowed. "Kimi... what are you talking about? Of course, I care. I—"
"I crashed because of you."
You froze at his words. "W-What?"
He stood from the couch. He jammed his finger into your chest. "This is your fault," he gritted out, lip trembling with pure anger. " Oscar this. Oscar that. Oscar, Oscar, Oscar," he spat out.
"Kimi—"
"You might as well come out with it. Luring Oscar to mess with my championship. How could you do this to me? When I've been here for you since the very start?" Kimi exasperated, own eyes pricking with tears.
You swallowed the bile creeping up your throat as the tears seeped into your cheeks. You looked at him, repulsed and with your brows mended. Your skin ached where his finger landed, invisible bruises already forming. "You're really questioning my loyalty? Once. Only once did I ever question you. After all those signs... the looks to those other girls. I ignored it because I thought you really loved me. And I questioned you once and you ridiculed me. And you really think I did something as elaborate as tricking Oscar?"
"Who knows?" He heaved dryly. "You've changed, ___. Years ago, you would've stuck by me," Kimi hissed.
You chuckled despite the tears falling one after another. "I have been. Every single goddamn day. You’re the one who's changed, Kimi! I don't see the guy who stayed up all night outside my house to wish me happy birthday. Or protected me from the photographers. No. Now... with you it’s... it’s clubs. And parties. Cameras following our every move. You degrade me in front of your co-workers. Disrespect me in front of millions. You show me off like I'm some trophy and put me to the side when you don't need me."
"Right..." Kimi laughed bitterly, shaking his head with utter disbelief. "Oscar doesn't do that then?"
Your face burned with anger, lip twitching. How dare he...
"Well at least he doesn't make me cry!" You exclaimed with an exhausted sob, shoulders heavy and burdened. "That's all you ever do, Kimi. You make me cry, then you love me. You criticise me, then you love me. I do what you want and it's still never enough for you. I will never be enough."
And suddenly, you were young kids all over again. Facing each other outside of school under the blues skies and warm winds of Bologna. Your smile so bright for him, he promised never to make it go away. Eyes so full of light, he never wanted to see a single tear.
Kimi blinked, lips parting for a response but nothing ever came out. Just the croak of realisation as he stood in front of you, finally taking in your reddened eyes, tear stained cheeks, and flushed skin.
It was like a slap to the face.
That was his doing.
He had made you cry.
He had hurt you.
What had he done?
You wiped your cheeks hastily as he stepped forward, hand hesitantly reaching out. Your throat burned, raw and sore from yelling. "I'm done, Kimi. Don't call me. Or my parents. Don't come by my house," you sniffled, lip quivering with disgust. “I don't ever want to talk to you again."
Oscar had recognised your downbeat face in a heartbeat as you sat in the McLaren motorhome, in his room, waiting with a cup of hot chocolate in front of you. A familiar sight. But something was different. He could tell.
No longer could he see the awkward, nervous demeanour Kimi had elicited from you. Instead a frame of exhausted freedom in your sunken eyes. Tip of your nose red and cheeks flushed from crying.
Oscar could tell this would be the last time he'd ever let you cry.
He breathed in quietly, removing his cap as he took a seat next to you. For a brief moment, he didn't say anything. A minute of silence for what was gone. For all your efforts that had been disrespected in every manner.
"We don't have to talk about it," Oscar mumbled, grabbing your hand, frowning at your cold skin. Warming your hand gently, he took in another breath. "Or do anything. As long as you're happy, I'm happy."
You moved your eyes from the coffee table drearily to Oscar, your hand, and then back to him. "Can I ask you question?"
Oscar swallowed, nodding with a perfect ease. "Of course," he said softly.
"Would you ever make me cry?"
Not one second wasted to think when he already knew the answer. "Never," he breathed, moving to tuck your dishevelled hair behind your ear. "There is no world or universe where I could even fathom it."
You pursed your lips, searching his eyes, trying to understand the weight of his words. Waiting for a split second to see if you could find the lies you had ignored in Kimi. But you found none. Just his warm gaze and the feel of his hand on your cheek, resting.
The corners of Oscar's lips teetered. "Was that a good media trained answer?"
You couldn't help but laugh a little, chest just a bit lighter now. You nodded your head. "Nice job," you murmured teasingly, nudging him with your elbow.
Oscar smiled, boyish and gentle as his thumb grazed your cheek back and forth before tracing over the small crinkles near your eyes, raised from your own smile. His chest ached slightly. Happiness looked far better on you.
You watched Oscar's eyes dip, falling to your lips for a brief moment. A silent struggle he decided to shake away. You sucked in a quiet breath, gentle fingers raising to brush over his lips, making him freeze. Meeting those brown eyes, a new shade you had come to enjoy, you tilted your head up and leaned in, pressing your mouth to his briefly.
Oscar's breath caught and his pulse jumped as you pulled away a smidge, shy smile faint on your face. Without a second thought, he brought you right back to him, lips pressed against yours with a barely contained urgency. His nose knocked against yours, head tilting while he parted your mouth with a simple ease.
The air in your lungs seemed to burn, caught and stuck while your brain turned into mush. It had been a while since someone had kissed you like they had meant it. Not for any camera or audience. A moment just yours. Your breath to steal.
You shifted against him, feeling his hand move to your waist in an attempt to bring you closer. The soft noise from your throat made the both of you shudder. The thud against the couch was gentle as you fell on top of him, never quite parting. as though the taste of each other was all consuming.
Oscar begrudgingly pulled away, breath shaky as he rested his head against yours. He swallowed, trying to compose himself. A gentle laugh fell from his swollen lips, brown eyes flickering to you and your flushed cheeks. "I was supposed to take this slow," he sighed.
Your body shook lightly with an amused laughter. "You have all the time in the world to try," you teased. "I'm giving you my heart, Piastri. Don't screw it up."
Oscar softly blinked, smile slowly stretching onto his face. "I promise," he breathed, pressing a long kiss to the top of your cheek.
Radio silence. That all Kimi had heard from you. He had ignored your warnings. Called and called. Text after text to try and rectify his wrongs. But you had quickly blocked his number. And it wasn't the only gruelling problem in his life.
Kimi didn't know what was going on but he was losing. He was losing bad. Every race... it was like he was taking a thrashing. And each one from them coming from Oscar. From wins and podiums... he was stuck at the bottom of top ten towards the end of a season. His big point lead now heavily eaten into. His confidence on thin ice.
And it was all Oscar's fault.
It was driving Kimi crazy. Leaving him in tears. because nothing quelled his anger. No workout. No crash. Nothing. He was even beginning to hallucinate. Hoping to turn around in the paddock and see you nearby. Hearing echoes of your voice in the air. Anything to keep him sane.
But you weren't here. Because he had fucked up. because Oscar Piastri had decided to get in the way.
Here Kimi was. After all of it. Entering the paddock miserably for the third to last race of the season. One of the championship deciders. He hadn't gotten a wink of sleep on the plane. Long hours spent in silence and with his brain.
He needed to head towards the Mercedes' suite for a morning brief. Pick up any instructions from the communiations team, maybe train a little before he went off to complete his media duties for the day.
His smile was tight and dull for the nearby cameras, hand hanging onto the bag slung over his shoulder. He walked with no extra pep or ego in his step. No cocky cadence that he once exhibited. Only with a sliver of hope that he could win. Even by a single point. Because suddenly the season he had been dying to start was the same one he was dying to be over.
Kimi's brows furrowed at the surprised looks of the photographers and people nearby. Their eyes travelling to the scene behind him, wide and cautious. He paused in his steps, body slowly turning to satiate his curiosity. But what he saw made his heart freeze and his blood run cold.
He blinked once. Twice. And another two more times.
But the sight never changed.
Kimi wasn't hallucinating. It was you.
For a second, Kimi's heart soared. A genuine smile threatening to spring onto his face. But as his eyes dropped down to your hand intertwined with another, he followed the arm to the familiar face of Oscar's and whatever happiness he had felt for a brief second had been smashed to smithereens.
He watched silently. Forced to do so, if anything. Watched as Oscar did the opposite of everything he ever did. Guiding you through the hoard of photographers and fans, keeping you close by as you both meet with Lando nearby. Watched as Oscar noticed your untied shoe and bent down to tie them without a second thought. Coming back up to give you a gentle kiss on your cheek as you enthusiastically engaged with his teammate.
Respectful and gentle with you. Fufilling all the promises Kimi had once made.
You looked unexplainably happy. Talking to someone that wasn't him. Someone that was no longer afraid to reciprocate any conversation with you.
For the first time in a while, Kimi could see the very same light in your eyes and your bright smile under these blue skies. None of which were for him. And it was like a stab to the heart.
But nothing worse than the smooth swivel of Oscar’s head, brown eyes meeting his as he smiled at him. Not a grin. Or smirk. A smile. Innocent and kind on the outside was the gesture. But the lingering stare emphasised it all.
It was official.
His wins.
His podiums.
His reputation.
His happiness.
His first love.
Oscar Piastri had stolen everything Kimi once had.
Hii, i love your writing, was wondering if you would write a max verstappen fic with a desi fem reader?
thank you so much!!
i've been debating it for my next max series. a lot of people been asking me for one too. i realise i haven't posted the masterlist for yet but think next-ceo-in-line!max and forbidden love (its not the poor-rich trope i promise). i'll put a little poll to help get an idea of what you guys are you looking for (dw i won't be offended if you don't.)
A/N: now i'm going to hold your hand when i say this... trust the process.
🏎️ masterlist | ⚽️ masterlist | 🦋 heart of chambers
You could've gone to anyone to quell the bustling market of thoughts in your mind. Catherine. Jenson. Your aunt. Hattie.
But for some reason, all you could think of was this very place. Even in its sweltering heat, seemingly endless tourist period, and the sightly pricey last-minute ticket, Barcelona called your name with the familiarity Monaco lacked.
These doors hadn't changed the last you had seen them. Nor the windows or cladding. Nothing new had been added nor had anything been removed. The annual flowers in the small garden patch nearby were finally beginning to blossom. The grass had been cut.
No familiar face greeted you at first. At least not any human one. You smiled at the rapid barks of Nilo, paws tapping against the glass panes excitedly before he leaped down from the windowsill and rushed through the pet door installed a few summers back.
A chuckle fell from your lips as you bent down, hand patting his soft head. "Hey, Nilo."
A bark returned as a response while the front door clicked open and Pedri blinked at the sight of your face in front his very door, Fer and his parents catching glimpse of you from the living room. "___," he softly said. "What are you... what are you doing here?"
You smiled tightly, peering up at him. "I think I need some help."
"He kissed you in the middle of the sea?" Fer gaped, lounging on the couch with his eyes wide as you recounted the recent events. He blew some air into his cheeks, quick approving whistle falling from his lips. "Talk about romantic, huh?"
Pedri turned his head to his brother, face blank. "Dude, how is that all you got from the story?" He grumbled, looking back at you and Nilo curled up together across him. He smiled quietly.
Fer rolled his eyes. His brother was fun when he was jealous. He breathed in, trying to mend together the pieces you had given him. "So... Oscar spent a lot of time with you during the break. Mustered the courage to kiss you… I’m struggling to see the problem here. The guy clearly likes you."
Pedri nodded begrudgingly while he leaned over, chin in hand as he spotted the flush on your cheeks from a mile away. This was not what he was expecting when you said you needed help. After ushering his parents to do something else once you caught up with them... he'd been lying if he wasn't feeling a little hopeful.
You swallowed tightly, struggling to keep those flashbacks out of your head. "That's not true. There are many problems. He's my co-worker for one. And my best friend, so that's like double weird. And... And..."
"And you can't believe he actually likes you," Pedri deducted after you struggled to come up with another reason. He folded his arms, leaning back into the couch. "Because you loved him first."
You bit your lip as the silence poured in. He had hit the nail on the head. Looking down at Nilo, you sighed. "It's one thing to spend so many years pining over him like an idiot. Another when you tried to stop. And now... he comes in and ruins everything."
Fer mended his brows, attempting to make sense of this new information. "Doesn't explain why you can't believe it. You liked him. He likes you now. What’s the difference?"
You shifted uncomfortably. Perhaps this was a conversation you should've had with Hattie or your aunt. But those were people too close to you as they were to Oscar. You needed to get away. Even for a little bit. But the thing about people like Fer and Pedri who were mostly indifferent to Oscar was that they were unintentionally pushing your limits.
Case in point being Fer.
"I know Oscar more than he knows himself," you breathed out after a few minutes. "Not just because I'm his friend. But because I spent so many years wanting to know him like that. Because I loved him. But I don't think he knows me like that," you whispered as the doubt began to creep into your mind.
Maybe it had been fun and games that day in the paddock or in the kitchen. Reaffirming just how much you knew each other. But you were quite sure that whatever he felt, if he did feel anything at all, was nothing to the years you had spent loving him. Like a weighing scale, it was all unbalanced.
You blinked. "And he just broke up with his girlfriend a few months ago, you know. I'm just not sure if he's in the right mindset and—"
Fer leaned up from the couch, brows mended incredulously. "You think you're a rebound?"
Pedri sat straight at those words, looking over at you with a sudden soft yet stern exterior. He breathed in at your silence, confirming his beliefs. "You can't be serious. ___, you're not a rebound. You're never a rebound."
"I just don't get it," you grumbled, frustrated entirely. "How is it that I can't move on after all these years from him and he just... can? That was his first love. How could he possibly love someone like me after her?"
Pedri blinked slowly. In the few years of knowing, he knew you to be quite strong-minded. And while no one was susceptible to it, insecurity was never really one of your weaknesses. But in this moment, he could see it. That mental comparison in your head.
Were you pathetic for still feeling so deeply for Oscar after all these years? And if someone's first love was indeed as pathetic as you thought it to be, then Oscar could only like you because he was lacking the stability his own had once brought him. Because waiting all these years, watching him fall for someone that wasn't you when you had been there all along, made you wonder what that moment in the water really even meant.
A frown formed on Pedri's face. It was one thing doubting yourself. But seeing your confidence knocked down altogether...
Pushing himself off the couch, he sat crouched in front of you, eyes peering up as you had just done not so long ago. His hand shifted to your knee, comforting and reassuring. "___, I promise you, you aren't someone people don't fall in love with. So whatever you're thinking in that pretty little head of yours... stop."
You sighed, giving him a resigned look. "Pedri—"
"I'm telling the truth. There is a lot to love about you," Pedri murmured, smile soft and tight. Almost regretful.
You pursed your lips at the sight. "Hey, come on—"
"You can't fight a heart," Pedri cut in, standing back up onto his feet. "So don't bother trying."
"I'm sorry, you did what?" Lando queried, almost losing balance of the dumbbell in his hands, widely eyeing his teammate through the mirror.
Oscar gave him a small, feeble glare. "I kissed ___," he muttered through clenched teeth, turning his neck against the strained resistance band, force creeping up tightly.
"And to think all I asked for was a dip in the ocean," Lando sighed, shaking his head with disbelief. Soon enough, the corners of his mouth quirked up with approval and admiration. "Mate, you are on your game right now."
"Yeah, I wouldn't quite say that," Oscar said, sighing as Kim released the band. "Wehaven'ttalkedsincethen."
Lando turned his head at the barely audible words of his teammate, resting his dumbbell back on the rack. "Sorry. What was that?" He asked, raising his brow.
Oscar pressed his lips together, awkwardly rubbing his arms, curling his fingers. "Uh... we haven't really talke—"
"Haven't really what?"
"T-Talked," Oscar repeated. "We haven't really talked since then."
"Oscar, you idiot," Lando sighed heavily, hands immediately covering his face in disappointment. "You didn't, I don't know, call her? Text her?"
Oscar tried not to wince at the grimace on Lando and his trainer's face. He cleared his throat, taking a step forward to discreetly speak. He breathed in. "So about that. Funny thing. After I kissed her... she kind of told me I was her first love, and she couldn’t really do it again. So, you know, I thought she'd like some space."
Lando's eyes widened, blinking blankly at him. "Fucking hell," he murmured after some time. His brows mended slightly. "How are you not freaking out?"
Oscar swallowed. He was. He totally was.
It had been around three days since then. And he hadn’t heard a single thing from you. He didn’t think you were avoiding him. He thought you needed time to process it. And hell, he needed it as much as you did.
The words had been repeating over and over in his head.
"Then I'll fall in love with you... again."
"And you won't... again."
He couldn't forget the way you said it or how you looked as you did. The desperation on your face. The plea teeming from your lips. Your eyes glossed. And yet there was something he still couldn’t quite decipher. These struggle in those very eyes.
It wasn't like you had pushed him away. Not exactly anyways. You had reciprocated it for that minute. He hadn't imagined your lips moving against his. For a moment in time, you had wanted it at much as he did.
But that didn't change anything. This new fundamental truth had shaken his very core. You had been in love with him from the very start. And he had never known.
He had been thinking about it before he went to sleep. Revisiting all the memories he had with you, trying to pinpoint where your feelings might have changed. And some of those memories had indeed changed. Your reactions during boarding school. Your cautious approaches with Lily, supportive but not too invested either. Hattie's lingering looks between the both of you.
And suddenly, those two years apart had made sense. Yes, you had sacrificed a lot of relationships and memories during that period. But all that distancing and time away... it was because of him. Even how Hattie had made a sudden effort to stop mentioning you quite as much.
Truth be told, it terrified him. How deep this ran.
How could he have not known? Would things have changed if he had? Would he have liked you as much as he did now? Perhaps. Perhaps not. He’d never know.
"And you won't... again."
No. This time things were different. This time your feelings were aligned.
He wanted this to work, and he wanted it to be with you.
Hattie stared at your name in her contacts; lip pulled between her teeth as she debated. She had heard what had happened from Oscar, of course. But what terrified her the most was the silence on your end. Not one text or call.
Usually with things like this, it was you who reached out first. You panicking over the phone as you had done for years.
Hattie had always been in a tough position when it came to the situation. For a majority of it, although she was Oscar's sister, she was your best friend. In a time where he knew nothing and hadn’t batted an eye to you in the way you wanted. But now things had changed. Oscar knew. Oscar's feelings had changed.
And now she was caught between being a sister and best friend. The fine line.
A sigh fell from her lips as she pressed your name, letting the ring ruminate in her room. By the fifth ring, she wondered whether you would pick up. She figured you were as far away from Oscar as possible. Knowing you, you weren't even in Monaco. And her brother found waiting around your apartment too invasive.
"Hey, Hats."
Hattie blinked, thumb gliding to switch to a video call instantly, propping her phone against her bed post. "Hey," she greeted after a moment, trying to sus the unfamiliar background you. "How are you? You don't seem to be... home."
You breathed in, nodding slowly. "Yeah, um, I'm not. Not even in Monaco actually," you chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of your neck. “Just doing a quick mental reset before the Netherlands."
"That's good," Hattie murmured with a small smile. She could spot the tension in your body from miles away. "Is everything... alright?" She started.
You paused for a moment before nodding quickly. "Yup. Perfect."
A frown threatened to etch onto Hattie's face. She swallowed, mulling over a choice of words that wouldn’t make you hang up the phone. But of course, there weren't many options. "Are you sure? Oscar called me recently and—"
You sighed deeply, hand rubbing your face tiredly. "Look that was just a mistake—"
"A mistake?" Hattie repeated, brows raised. This was her you were talking to. "My lovely, this is all you’ve ever wanted and you're saying it's a mistake. Oscar freaking likes you and—"
"That's not true. He doesn't," you retorted quickly. “He just isn't in the right mindset after Lily. Whatever he feels... it'll go away."
Hattie fell silent at your words, brown eyes almost piercing you through the screen while she dissected your defence. She spoke carefully and calm, eerily similar to her brother. "You think my brother is using you as a rebound? The Oscar?" She asked, almost offended. She swallowed, clearing her mind at the mere thought. She could tell you were scared. Wary.
She breathed in softly. "You know him. He would never do that. Not to anyone and especially not to you," she murmured.
You blinked. You knew that deep down. Rebound and Oscar didn't go well together.
"I just don't get why," you heaved after a moment, relaying what you had learnt so recently after being pushed by Fer and Pedri. "Why not then. Why now? What makes me so different now? I went through all of that and I almost moved on. And the only reason I can think of is this. I'm here after she is. Easy access or something."
The frown Hattie had been trying to suppress made its way clearly onto her face. Your torment was evident. And she wasn't quite sure if she could be the one to solve it. This was up to Oscar.
She sighed a second later. "That's just how the heart is and you know it. You can't control it or turn it off. You can't choose who to like. Just like how you have no control over Oscar. Sure, these have been long years for you. Yes, you suffered and you cried. But a person in love is always the winner. The fact you feel as happy as you to do when it comes to him... isn't that what matters the most? Letting yourself be happy?"
You gave her a small, empty stare through the screen. But happiness wasn't just Oscar. Happiness was also the dreams you had been trying to achieve. For you. For the women around you. And inextricably tied to it was Oscar.
If you let your guard down and let yourself fall as you had done before, all you had now could disappear. With the click of a finger. The headlines would talk and the fans would whisper about how you were exactly what they feared you were.
A woman who couldn't get anything done without the help of a man.
That of course you'd date your co-worker because what else was a girl to do?
You had heard of co-worker relationships in the paddock. All initially secret. Hushed under the fear of HR and backlash. Quiet in the fear of a woman losing the job she had worked so hard for all because she had done something as mundane as living a little. All while a man would retain his authority, his position, and his power.
You couldn't do that. Not when you were so close. Not when you were living your dreams. Nor when you had no idea how to manipulate that level of scrutiny to your advantage, let alone forfeit your passion. You hadn't even signed for another year yet. Effectively, you were seatless while Oscar still had his. With no cushioning or safety net, your hands were tied.
"Say that again," Oscar barely asked his sister as he laid in his bed, recounting the discussion you had had with her. You had talked to her which made him feel a little better. You were fine at least. But you weren't here. You weren't ten minutes away. And that made him feel worse.
A deep sigh came from Hattie's end. "I've already said it like ten times. Saying it once more isn’t going to make it any eas—"
"Hattie."
She grumbled under her breath. She had already broken girl code in the name of being an honourable sister. But her brother seemed to be rubbing it in her face without even realising. “She thinks she's rebound, okay? That you haven’t processed Lily and you just like her because she's the one that's around."
Oscar sat up, affronted, chest filled with a sick nausea all of a sudden. "I would never do that," he stated firmly.
"I know that. And she does too. I just..." Hattie sighed, pinching the nose of her bridge. "How easy do you think it is for her? She watched you be with Lily for years. Anything she would’ve done, you probably wouldn't have cared like that. So when you pop out of nowhere, freshly single... what else is she supposed to think?"
Oscar frowned, guilt creeping up silently. "But it's not fake. O-Or... a one-off," he whispered the word with strong distaste. "Sure, it's random and the timing is awful, but I can't help it. She's the one person that makes me happy right now. And it’s not because of Lily. Things were miserable far before our breakup. I just... for the first time in a while, it feels like I can breathe a little. Be me unapologetically. No cameras, no media. Like if I talked to her about anything, she'd understand. And I want to be that for her."
Hattie smiled softly at her phone. Her brother had always been quite mature. Maybe forced to if one argued it well enough. But now she was sure, he had definitely grown. She hummed quietly, looking over at her clock. She'd been awake for far too long now. "Look I don't know if she'll be back in Monaco soon or not. But you'll have to see her for the race next week, yeah? Maybe forget the 'show' part of things and instead tell her what you told me. Or better yet, call her."
Oscar blinked tiredly and nodded from his side. "Yeah, okay," he yawned his agreement. "Thanks, Hats. Goodnight."
Hattie chuckled gently. "Goodnight."
The incessant buzzing from your phone had gone on for a minute. The second one in an hour.
"Are you going to answer that or just stare at it?" Pedri queried, taking a seat next to you as he put a cup of lemonade down in front of you.
"Probably stare at it," you mumbled, lulling your head to the side with a pout, elicting a small chuckle from him. The name sprawled across your screen made your stomach churn. Because it only took one glimpse and suddenly you were back in Monaco. In the cold water. And he was right there. Close. Too close. Leaning down and...
You sighed sharply, reaching to grab your drink, the cold lemonade soothing your fingertips. Barcelona was hotter than you remembered. The training you had been doing here was lighter than what you had done in Monaco. But the heat had made it far worse.
You cleared your throat, turning to Pedri. "Can I ask you a question?"
"If it's about Nilo having a sibling then my answer is still on the fence."
You rolled your eyes, smiling. "Pedri," you said, giving him a pointed look.
He grinned quietly, leaning back on the couch, arms folded as they usually were. "Okay, okay. I’m all ears. What is it?"
"Why did you like me?"
Pedri blinked like he had misheard you. As though he had suddenly lost his hearing. "What?" He queried, brows mended.
You shifted in your seat, turning to face him head on. "When we were together... what made you go... 'Yeah, her,' you know?"
A moment of silence drifted in the air. He knew why you were asking. To reaffirm the disbelief you had been drowning yourself in. He swallowed tightly, moving himself, knee brushing yours before he settled down. "I'll answer your question. But first... why did you like me?"
You made a face. "What? What kind of stupid question is that? Why wouldn't I have liked you? You’re sweet and kind. You work hard. You have dreams like I do. You're a little bit stupid. And well, I was kind of in it for Nilo. Not to mention, you have a pretty good-looking face," you teased with a whisper.
He chuckled, head almost bowing down in your lap as his chest rumbled with amusement. A sigh fell from his lips while he looked up, shaking his head at you. "So what makes you think you I didn't see those things too? Your heart is good. You make me laugh. You always treat my parents like yours. And yes, Nilo does love you more than I do. But that's just that. You just did and I just do."
You bit your lip at the evident present tense. "I'm sorry," you murmured regretfully.
Pedri smiled gently, giving you a small shrug. "I'm not. Best two years of my life. I'm sure I'll get over it someday. But until then, I'm happy."
You mended your brows as Hattie's words came to mind. But a person in love is always the winner. You didn't understand what she meant at the time. But in this moment, you understood it.
Love, much like anything in the world, was whatever you let it be. If it was grief, it'd be grief you felt. Jealousy... if it were miserable and strenuous like the long years you had put into it... then it would be exactly like that.
But if you let love be love, regardless of the reciprocal feeling, then you'd be the one who’d enjoy it.
Of course, that was in a perfect world, where you weren't face with your dreams on the line.
Bzz! Bzz!
Both you and Pedri turned your heads to the coffee table where your phone lit up with the familiar name. You swallowed, staring at it as you had done before. You didn't think you could answer it right now. Maybe you'd just let it run again. He could leave a voice message or—
"Hello? You have reached ___'s phone—"
"Pedri!" You whisper-yelled, eyes wide, hand reaching out to grab your phone with futile efforts as his arms pushed you away.
"She is currently not available right now. Can I take a message?"
You stilled, horrified eyes watching Pedri's face while your ears perked at the sound of Oscar's voice.
"Uh, sure... can you tell her to call me back? It's important."
Pedri turned to you, raising his brow. "Important," he mouthed with a cheeky grin. More amused with the blank look on your face, he breathed in. "Of course. Oscar, right? I'll be sure to tell her when she gets back. Uh-uh. Bye."
You stared at your phone as Pedri put it back on the coffee table. Tongue in cheek, you turned back to him with a twitching eye. "Pedri..." You started calmly, "why the fuck would you do that?!"
Pedri's hands shot out once the couch pillows came hurling at him. "I—ow! Okay, okay!" He shouted, catching the last pillow in the air. He breathed hard, receiving your glare loud and clear. "You wanted to fix your problem, right? What’s worse than jealousy?"
You almost pouted, falling back into the couch with disbelief.
A PR-headache. That's what was worse.
"Catherine, I need you to defend me this weekend," you breathed, looking out at the Zandvoort track edging closer towards you.
"Sure." Catherine nodded absentmindedly in the car before she looked up from her laptop. "Wait, what? What happened? What did you do?"
You frowned, turning your head to her from the window. "Why are you assuming I did something?"
Catherine pointed a brow. "Well... did you?"
You pursed your lips. You hadn't told her about anything yet. You probably should have. But you didn’t want to make a mountain out of a mole hill. The more attention you gave this, the more of something it became. It was nothing. And it’d remain nothing.
"Just... keep me away from the McLarens. I don’t want to see any papaya this weekend if I can avoid it," you mumbled, leaning on the car door, feeling the vibrations of the road underneath you.
Catherine nodded slowly, biting down any comment coming to mind. "Duly noted."
Everywhere. The damn papaya was every-fucking-where.
You had first turned to have a small conversation outside the Mercedes' hospitality suite. Just a quick catch up with everyone on how their breaks had gone. But then, from the corner of your eye, you had seen them. Oscar and Lando in a conversation, walking towards their own suite, which was right past yours.
The moment you had made any sort of eye contact; it was a race to the front door. The humiliation had come pouring in almost instantly. Of what? That you weren't quite sure of. Of how you had reacted? Or of the fact it was Pedri who had picked up your phone.
You hadn't called him back. Obviously. You weren’t crazy enough to do so. You hadn't even formulated a text plan because every time you did, you found an excuse to delete it.
And from that very moment, Oscar had been everywhere. It was purposeful, you were sure. The slightly raised arm as he tried to approach you, attempting to catch you. It was like he was hot on your feet. You could barely lose him.
What part of 'defend' did Catherine not understand?
Qualifying had been the worst of it.
"Its Q3 and the headlines are as they have been all weekend! Car 8 versus the McLarens! Each a free practice topper. But it's Piastri and ___ who have been fighting for P1. Three minutes left and one more chance. The Mercedes is on provisional pole. Can Oscar Piastri take down the domineering Silver Arrow?"
Perhaps you had been of your game. With everything going on, you weren't as locked in as you usually were. Maybe the tyres. You had already done two Q3 laps on the softs. Perhaps there wasn't any more in them. Or perhaps he really had taken one hundredth of a second off you. Because no matter what you did, your last attempt had been your worst.
No significant improvement. Flirting with the curb. And a moment where you had gone wide.
"Piastri does it! Oscar Piastri takes pole in Zandvoort, and the Silver Arrow splits the McLaren dream team! With home driver Max Verstappen in P4, tomorrow's race start will be nothing short of interesting."
You swallowed as you wrung your car around the track, bringing back to the designated signs.
"Well that was—" Bono started on your radio line.
"Catastrophic?" You queried, grimacing at the sight of the papaya cars parked up ahead of you. You were going to have to get out of this car at some point.
The static clambered in your ears. "I was going to say it 'wasn't too bad' but..." He trailed off. "You'll get him tomorrow."
You hummed idly, lining your car with the P2 sign. The unbuckle of the seatbelts and removal your steering wheel had become some sort of art—smooth and easy as you got out of the car. You sighed, drifting towards the weighing scale before removing your helmet and balaclava, wind cooling on your burning skin.
Your heart paced at the papaya in the corner of your eye but soothed when you spotted the glimpse of tanner skin. "Nice lap," you commented, turning to Lando as you grabbed a bottle of water.
Lando chuckled softly. "Should say that to you. Driving a shitbox and yet you're P2. I heard a rumour you could get an Aston to P3. Wanna bet?"
You narrowed your eyes despite the smile on your face. "No more bets with you. I think your bets get me into trouble," you sighed, taking a greedy gulp of water while you watched Oscar get interviewed in your peripheral. You blinked as those brown eyes glided to you.
Lando pressed his smile down when you began coughing. "I bet they do," he commented.
You glared, wiping your mouth before you grabbed the Mercedes-embellished cap and shoved it onto your head. The tap on your shoulder marked you to get ready for the microphone while you stepped past Lando and begrudgingly inched towards Oscar.
Your eyes shook, darting place to place as the cheers began to settle and Oscar turned towards you, gaze unwavering while he pushed the microphone towards you. You smiled so tightly you thought your lips would fall off, lungs curling around a sharp breath as your fingers brushed one another in your endeavour to get it from him.
With your chest racing, you cleared your throat and stepped to the interviewer, focusing on the words being said rather than the brown eyes watching you from afar.
"I thought Sophie said to stop being so obvious," Lando said, standing next to his teammate and recalling the instructions he had been given on media day.
"I am," Oscar mumbled, readjusting his cap.
Lando raised a brow, turning his head to him. "You've been walking around like a puppy. And you’re literally standing here with heart eyes,” he sighed, shaking his head.
Oscar gave him a small glare before reverting his eyes back to you. He had already tried to talk to you beforehand. But the desperation had kicked in after Pedri had picked up your phone.
What the hell were you doing at Pedri's? Had he really misread things this badly?
"And lastly, what is it going to take to get past Oscar tomorrow? He's been quick all weekend."
You breathed in, pondering. That was the question you had been wondering for a while now. "A little bit of guts and a good pitstop?" You raised your brows, faint grin on your face as the small laughter erupted.
"The perfect recipe, right? Well, good luck for tomorrow. Thank you, ___."
You smiled, giving back the microphone while your head tilted, eyes searching for Catherine or anyone you could recognise while you began walking. Never in your life had you thought you’d actually wish to go to all your mandatory interviews. But here you were.
You swallowed tightly as the familiar shade of papaya caught up to you at last, manoeuvring the swarms of people just as well as you.
"You can't ignore me forever," Oscar murmured, walking side by side next to you.
You pursed your lips, eyes flickering over the crowd as Catherine finally appeared on the other side of you. You gave her a blank look, sucking in a sharp breath before barely turning your head to him. "I'm not ignoring you."
Oscar chuckled to himself. "Really? Because you can't even look me in the eye and the only time I can seem to catch you is in a moment like this," he retorted, perfectly well-reasoned and that irritated you. Of course he was.
He sighed at your silence as you both neared the conference room. "Look, I just... I'm confused, okay? N-Not about this. Us. I'm perfectly clear about how I feel. But we need to talk about that night. This. About Pedri."
You winced at the mention of his name, feet stopping in the corridor. You turned with another deep breath in. "Then I'll make it easier for you, Osc. Forget about it and I will too. And we'll still be good friends, I promise."
Oscar furrowed his brows. "Wait, what? What are you talking about?" He asked incredulously, oblivious to the poorly covered grimaces on Lando and Catherine's faces. "This isn't something I can just forget. W-Why are you making this so difficult for yourself?"
You bit your lip, eyeing the curious onlooks walking by. You looked back at Oscar with a sigh. "There is too much for me to lose, Oscar," you whispered, voice strained. "I waited for so long. Nothing happened. And that's okay. But when I used that time to get here and finally get to be something... you can't expect me to throw that away in a few seconds."
Oscar blinked, feeling the shift in the breeze as you walked past him silently. Stumped for a moment, it wasn't till Lando put a hand on his shoulder. "C'mon, mate. Let's just get through the weekend."
Zandvoort had been catastrophic for McLaren. Or at least for Lando. An engine oil leak that had forced him to retire on lap sixty-five, letting his own fight in the championship take a blow. Additionally, Max had also been struggling in the Red Bull, and you had never quite made it past Oscar as intended.
The silver lining?
You had gotten to share a podium with Isack.
For a moment, you were able to breathe. Forget whatever problems you had been trying to solve or not solve for the past week or so. Because if you looked back at the pictures taken that day, you found the little versions of you and Isack staring right back. The ones that desperately wished to be in Formula One. And here you were, living your dreams.
It made Oscar think about your words as he looked at the two of you, both practically half in tears while you jumped with joy. This is what you had meant. What you had fought for to be here. To stand in front of a crowd and enjoy the same dreams you had with the people you had grown up with. At the same level. With no questions as to why you were there.
Truth be told, it had totally slipped his mind. The pressures you were facing. He was so caught up in his feelings that he hadn't stopped for a second and thought about what you would lose.
You were right. The headlines were already strange enough. They would have a field day ripping you apart. And he would probably get away scot-free. No damage done. His name intact as well as his reputation.
But why did they have to know? He meant what he had said. Romance wasn't dead if you could keep it just yours.
Besides, how could he forget? How could he just walk around and pretend that every fibre of him wasn’t calling to you? Like he wasn't thinking about you constantly or fighting the urge to openly hold your hand?
And it was in that split second; it dawned on him.
This was exactly how you had felt for all those years.
Monza looked the same as it usually did. Mostly covered in red, chanting Ferrari's name. You had been more consistent than last week. Topping free practice over and over again. You were sure people had tuned out by Q3 where you had crossed the line with the fastest time.
Always the collective sigh for Ferrari. You hoped one day that would change for them. But today was not that day.
After a long day, you had cooped yourself in your hotel room, trying to prepare for tomorrow. But the good news you had been waiting for had finally come, keeping you awake.
You gasped, almost instantly pouting at your screen. "There they are. My lucky charms," you whispered in awe, eyeing the two newborns. They were two sweet little girls. Healthy and oh so perfect.
Your aunt chuckled softly next to her husband while Nicole agreed behind the phone. "They just wanted to be here for your win, you know," she teased, exhaustion clear on her face.
"Whoa, stepping the gun there," you narrowed your eyes, grin still apparent. You sighed, settling in your chair, looking at your aunt with a little concern. "Are you feeling okay? Everything's fine? That must've been hard," you frowned.
Your aunt smiled gently. "I'm fine. They were a bit of pain," she grumbled, making you laugh quietly. She breathed deeply out, looking down at her children. "Worth it though," she murmured, squeezing Dylan's hand.
You watched softly, unexplainably happy. After she had sacrificed so much for you, this is what she deserved. A family that was hers. That didn’t make her work as tirelessly when she was unprepared to do so. And knew you, from the bottom of your heart, those two was in the safest hands ever to exist.
You blinked as one of them yawned quietly, making you smile. "I think this one's getting bored of you," Nicole teased behind the camera. "They're asking for Uncle Osc too."
You blinked, pursing your lips. "Can't we just add him to the call?" You sighed dramatically, not willing to move. Surprisingly, Oscar had kept a cautious distance from you within the past week, only talking when it was necessary. Though his gaze said something else entirely.
"___, go to Oscar," your aunt narrowed her eyes, catching your reluctance in an instance. Both her and Nicole had clearly been informed by Hattie, not playing by your rules so easily
You curled your lip, muttering something incoherent under your breath as you pushed yourself off your chair and unlocked your hotel door. "I'll call back," you waved at the camera, tucking your phone into your pocket, grabbing your keycard, and shoving your feet into your shoes.
You headed towards the elevator, punching the down button, leaving you waiting, foot tapping away on the floor. Of course, when everything was working out for you, now you were putting yourself in the position to meet him instead.
It didn't matter though, right? You said you'd be good friends with him. Nothing could possibly in a small meeting like this.
You blinked at the open elevator doors, taking a step forward and pushing the button for the floor below you. The journey short, you peeked your head into the familiar corridor once you arrived. He was down at the end. You forced yourself out of the elevator, inching slowly to the haunting door.
You eyed the number, pursing your lips with even more reluctance. But the thought of going back up and calling back with no Oscar terrified you even more. So you swallowed whatever pride you had left and knocked. The few seconds you waited felt like hours.
Your breath caught at the twist of the lock, expectant gaze loitering as Oscar opened the door. The surprise was evident in those brown eyes and yet your cheeks were flushing. you flashed the reminder in your head. Friends. Friends. Friends.
"___," Oscar breathed, smile soft.
You returned the gesture timidly, giving him an awkward brief wave. "Hey," you greeted, losing your ability to think. Wait. Why were you here again? Oh... right. "Uh, my nieces, a few hours old, are apparently already picking favourites. So... here I am."
He mended his brows before looking at your phone dangling in front of his face. The crease between his brows quickly eased in recognition. "Right, of course. Um, yeah. Come in," he nodded, stepping back to let you in.
You smiled tightly, removing your shoes as you unlocked your phone, calling Nicole back. Eyeing his room, you opted for the small coffee table and sofa in the corner, placing your phone against the complimentary vase and box of sweets Oscar had unbothered to open.
Oscar closed his door, not quite believing you were here in his hotel room, dressed in your pyjamas before race day. The daunting realisation he had in Zandvoort had made him want to try and live even a week of how you had felt. So he tried the whole maintained distance. Cautious and pining from afar. Of course, the blaring difference was that you weren't dating anyone. But Pedri's phone call was as close as it got.
What had he learnt?
It fucking sucked.
For every little thing, he had to think twice. About how it would be perceived. To hold back. To smile in secret. Fawn behind the cameras. To stand back when fans and so called 'journalists' were so obviously flirting with you.
He absolutely profoundly hated it.
"Oscar?"
He blinked at the call of his name, watching you point to your phone. Right. He cleared his throat, moving to take a seat next to you. Knees and arms brushing as he leaned in with a growing smile.
"Oh congratulations," he said, eyes melting over the two girls in frame. "They're beautiful."
You pressed your smile down. Oscar always sounded a little funny when he did these things. He never quite had that small little gasp that everyone else did. But the way he said things after... earnest and warm. You could always tell he meant it.
"Oh!" Nicole gasped as the very same twin beamed at the camera. "She totally loves Uncle Osc. Don't you!"
You frowned, leaning in next to him, showing little care to how close you were to him. "Hey, that's not fair. What about me?"
Nicole rolled her eyes. "One for Osc. One for you. Hattie and the rest will have to share," she heaved theatrically.
Oscar chuckled while you snorted. "What are their names?" He queried with curiosity making you realised you hadn't a clue either.
Your aunt smiled, looking between Nicole and Dylan. "I was wondering when you'd ask," she teased tiredly. "You wanna show them?"
"Of course," Dylan said, taking the phone from Nicole, shifting the camera over to the temporary nameboards. "Here they are."
You and Oscar leaned in together, narrowing your eyes at the small handwriting. Oscar, ever the faster reader, whipped his head to you, a gentle surprise washed over his face while you blinked once. Twice. And once more.
You rubbed your eyes in disbelief, hands beginning to shake a little as yout heart dropped in your chest. "Is that..." You trailed off, swallowing nervously. "You gave them my name as their middle name?" You whispered, looking over at Oscar to confirm.
He smiled, hand reaching to grab yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze. You bit your lip, turning back to the phone. "That's... That's really sweet," you murmured, voice strained, eyes stinging. “Thank you."
Your aunt reached gestured for the phone, watery smile on her face as she looked at you. "You are as much as my daughter as they are, yeah? I haven’t replaced you. Sister... aunt... whatever you wanna be. You're equally as mine."
You breathed in sharply, eyes no longer just stinging, vision blurred. You nodded rigidly, blowing some air into your face while you fanned your eyes. "God, it's so hot in here," you said, choked.
The eye roll from your aunt was on cue. "You two need sleep, yeah? Big day tomorrow. Now play nice. I don't want any drama out there."
You chuckled, sniffling. "Yeah. You get some sleep too. Tell me when you get home, okay? A-And call me. Even if you think it's really late," you mumbled, eyes still furiously watering.
"Okay, okay. Goodnight, honey. You too, Osc," your aunt smiled, waving at the camera with the twins and Dylan in frame.
Nicole grabbed the phone with that gentle, mothering smile she always had. "I'll keep you guys updated, hmm? Now go to bed, sweeties. Good luck for tomorrow."
You both waved goodbye as Oscar leaned in, cutting the call. He turned to you, brown eyes drifting to your hands and then to your face. He frowned at the rolls of silent tears dripping down your cheeks. "Hey, hey," he whispered, other hand reaching out to hold your face. "What's wrong?"
You shook your head, swallowing hard. "I just... that was really nice of her. She didn't have to do that. I don't deserve that after being such a big burden on her," you whispered, shaky eyes on your phone, still imagining the faint traces of everyone on the screen just seconds ago.
Oscar sucked in a sharp breath; chest weighed with an aching uneasiness. His hands both moved to curl around your body, bringing you closer while his chin rested over your head. "That's not true. You heard her," he softly said, hand rubbing your back soothingly. "You're always her's. Not a burden. Never a burden. You hear me?"
"Yeah," you nodded, voice muffled against his chest. You wiped your damp cheeks, sniffling once again. You began shifting up, head lifting. You rubbed your temples, exhaustion still seeping through your body after today. "Probably should get some sleep."
"Sleep here."
You blinked, looking at him pointedly. "You and I both know that's not a good idea."
Oscar tilted his head. "Do we?" He queried, standing up from the sofa. He stretched his hand out towards you. "It's just sleeping."
You pressed your lips together, sore eyes peering at him. You could've easily stood up and walked out. One elevator ride up was all there was between you and your own bed. It would've been safer to listen to your brain.
But in moments like these, your heart, fraudulent as ever, acted out of its own will.
"Okay."
Oscar breathed in at the feel of your hand gliding into his palm, pulling you up swiftly, leaving barely any room between the both of you. For a moment he stared. It was warm and soft. And after deciding it was long enough, wordlessly he brought you along to his bed.
He left you for a brief second, turning off the lights. And through the rays of moonlight from his window, he could see your shadowed figure move and shift under his duvet. His steps were cautious, still navigating this unfamiliar room as he found himself on the opposite side of the bed.
You could feel the mattress dip next to you while you laid on your back, staring at the ceiling quietly, fingers fidgeting with an oddly calm nervousness. Even inches away, you could feel the heat radiate from his body. You could see him turn on his side from the corner of your eye. You copied him, tucking your hand against your cheek.
You smiled gently at the hints of moonlight fawning over Oscar's face. "Goodnight, Osc," you whispered.
six thousand followers!! entirely beyond what i thought i would ever achieve on here! i'm so happy so many people have discovered my work and that we can share a passion over sports and writing! errors and all, thank you for putting up with me, my breaks, and slow updates. all your reblogs and comments are super motivating and appreciated ♡︎
agenda:
⠂⠄⠄⠂☆ steal my girl - op81 and ka12 s|a|f
kimi has everything oscar has ever wanted. and oscar knows kimi doesn’t deserve any of it. not the praise. not the wins. and especially not you. so when the envy becomes too much, oscar decides he’ll take it all from him. every single last thing that makes kimi happy. even if that means taking you.
⠂⠄⠄⠂☆ keep you high pt 2 - '25 rookies f|s
work and pleasure… they say to never mix it. but those fan-gifted chocolates changed your lives. and with summer break coming, the boys get a little creative with a beach getaway.
⠂⠄⠄⠂☆ young and beautiful - ka12 f
"you're too young for her." that's what everyone had told him when he laid eyes on mercedes' newest recruit. but a man that yearns is a man that earns.
⠂⠄⠄⠂☆ desi girl - al41 f
another cousin, another wedding. that was arvid's current lifestyle. racing and goddamn weddings. the only difference about this one was that this one had you.
⠂⠄⠄⠂☆ mr sandman - mv3 f|s
returning home from a race, max comes back to find you in bed. asleep, naked, and moaning. you've talked about it before. tonight, he plans to make those pretty little dreams of yours come true.
⠂⠄⠄⠂☆ sweet like candy - ob87 f|s
roommates and a little something more has left you frustrated when you can't take matters into your own hands. so you do the worst you can think of: interrupt ollie during his sim session.
a/n: so six fics for six thousands followers!! they won't be out all at once but i promise they'll be done EVENTUALLY! will it be in order? idk. i have commitment issues w/ writing // these are technically requests but with that being said... unfree student me wouldn't have even considered but i'm semi-free rn and the timing aligns :3
SUMMARY: with the upcoming races cancelled, alex finds ample time to become a sudden staple in your life.
WARNINGS: teasing, little angst, mention of an emergency birth, poor humour, desi culture (food and fighting), honestly a very triggering mother, alex and reader being domestic, 18+ smut (minors dni), p in v, eating out, fingering, unprotected sex, blowjob, car sex, semi-public sex // not proofread
A/N: another chapter!!! "finally," i hear you scream!
🏎️ masterlist | ⚽️ masterlist | 🥂 anyone but you
Things after China had taken quite a drastic turn once the cancellation announcement of the races in Saudi Arabia and Bahrain were released. Alex no longer was in constant meetings or jets. No longer training as efficiently in this sudden spring break of sorts.
No. Instead, he was in you.
For every second he could get his hands on you. Not incessant by any means. It was like gravity. A natural law of the world that left him gravitating towards you. You had lost count of how many times you had seen each other in the past few days alone. And where you had committed your sinful acts.
Your car had seen it all in the middle of the night right after work.
"Oh fuck! Alex," you moaned, teeth tearing into the fabric over his shoulder while your fingers curled tightly around the grab handle of your car as he slammed into you, pants half slung down, urgency in every stride.
The windows were fogged despite the near spring weather, heat pouring from your bodies uncontrollably. The back seat was cramped for the both of you, particularly Alex considering how big he was. But nothing seemed to stop you two. Parked almost nowhere, you knew a passerby would know exactly what was happening.
Everything seemed to cling to you. Your scrubs. Your dishevelled hair. Him.
Alex's mouth quirked at your implied praise. "That's it, sweetheart," he grunted, coil in his stomach tightening at every clench of your dripping cunt around hm. His thumb worked smoothly against your prodding bundle of nerves; hand covered in your slick.
The singe of your teeth into his skin made his cock jump. God, you felt so good. So fucking wet. And it was all because of him. You felt good because of him, and it drove him crazy.
"Not tired are you now, pretty girl? Making you feel all better," Alex hummed with huffed breaths, brings his lips to your mouth while his fingers dug into your waist, skin spilling from those confines.
"No," you agreed with a deep mewl, eyes clenching at the filthy squelch slamming in and out of you. No. You were so fucking awake now. You were positive those stars in the night sky weren’t just any normal stars.
A chuckle fell from his lips. "You wanna cum, sweetheart?" He coaxed, heart unfurling in his lower stomach. He burned at your strained moan. "Yeah? Go on. It's not the only one you're getting tonight."
Those runs of his were awful. After staying over, because you did that now, it was him you came back home to, sweating after he had taken a run around your area. And something about that tight fitting muscle shirt and the beads of sweat glistening down on his brown skin made your toes curl.
Alex's hand wrapped your silky tresses with bare restraint, knees weak and practically cowering as he stood against your fridge, long cock stuffed in your mouth, head tilted towards the ceiling in disbelief.
You had barely given him any time to pull those shorts of his down; lips wrapped around him in seconds. Your throat, accustomed to him, welcomed every inch, moans sending vibrations down his shaft.
"Shit," Alex groaned, heart skipping as he found your glassy eyes staring back at him. The coldness of your fridge door now warm against his backside. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip, eyes fluttering. Oh God... you were killing him.
Choking on a breath, he gasped, "If I needed motivation for running—ngh—fuck, I've got it now."
You hummed your approval, taking him deeper and deeper till he was flushed to your mouth, trimmed hairs barely scratching you.
An uneven noise fell from his lips while Alex fought not to collapse so soon. The pleasure seemed to build quickly. He couldn't help it. With your warm mouth and tight throat and the smell of jasmine swirling around him... he was gone for.
The most heinous places of all was your very own café. The one sacred place you had. A safe haven from the chaos and mess of the hospital now tainted with your muffled moans, Alex's large hand around your mouth, and his own teeth sinking down into your shoulders to keep quiet.
It was unsanitary. God, it was so unsanitary. The café bathroom was barely a level up from a public bathroom. Yet here you were. Pressed up against the sink, cold ceramic digging into your stomach, fingers gripping the corners of countertop tightly as Alex took you from the back.
You couldn't muster the courage to even look at the damn mirror in front of you, using all your efforts to keep your moans quiet as possible. But fuck, it was difficult with every knock of his tip against the deepest parts of you, dragging almost all the way out before driving back in, right to the hilt.
Your eyes clenched tightly, body cowering over the sink in disbelief as the sheer pleasure coursing through you. And his fingers pressing into your cheeks while he covered your mouth made it no better. Other hand gripping your waist like you'd disappear if he didn't.
Alex was in no better position. Marking you with the indents of his teeth to cover every grunt and curse threatening to burst out of him. It was terrible. Hot breaths escaping and fawning over your shoulder, smell of jasmine burning into his nose flushed near your neck. The controlled grind of his hips, careful to not make any more noise than necessary.
Your struggle drove him insane. The whiny, muffled moans strangled in your throat when he sped up. The irresistible pull of your cunt around him while time loomed over the both of you as a threat.
This was sickening, he was sure of it.
But fuck, it felt so good.
It wasn't like you were particularly innocent either. Taking every opportunity you got to tease him. A supposed coffee outside turned into your hand inching a little too closely to his inner thigh. The purposeful choices of clothing that left him practically drooling at the table. Or now, where you had so coyly walked around your apartment without any panties under the claim it was laundry day.
It was.
You writhed under Alex's hover, head digging into your couch harshly as his fingers pushed into your cunt mercilessly, long digits coaxing all the rights spots like he had memorised them. Every smooth rub and curl making your hand tighten around his forearm. God, you were so close.
This was your third of the morning.
"If you wanted me to help you, all you had to do was ask, sweetheart," Alex rasped, blown pupils thriving at the wet squelch of you soaking his hand. The smell of sex had become dizzying in your apartment.
"Don't need to walk around naked as an excuse."
You wanted to refute those outrageous claims. But you couldn't quite seem to. Your breath hitched at the rub of his fingers on the spongy part of you, body beginning to lock up. "A-Alex," you choked out, brows mending when you looked at him.
A faint smirk tugged onto his lips. "Again?" He teased though he knew the tight clench around his fingers all too well. The chuckle from his throat was smooth like velvet. "Come on then. Cum for me, sweetheart."
Your mouth fell open as the pleasure hit you once again, striking you in a way you never could quite wrap your head around. There was no toy... no other fingers that made you feel like this. As if you were on the brink of heaven.
Alex had become selfish. Not letting you rest for too long before he collapsed over you, attaching his mouth directly onto your dripping cunt with a savouring moan. The sound rippled over you, sensitivity high while your legs quavered around his head, undeciding on whether to keep him tethered or to push him away.
But your mind seemed to know. Hand travelling to those dark locks to keep him place.
"Fuck," you moaned, hips jerking with every dart of his tongue and suckle of his mouth against your puffy folds. The sweat had lined your body in thin sheets, air warm and cold at the same time. You could barely think now.
"Taste so fucking good," Alex grunted, slurps obscene and lewd as the last one while his fingers sunk into your bare thighs, holding you still. Addiction wasn't the word to describe you. You were like oxygen. Needed for his survival.
Your breath stuttered, whimpers and mewls choked with every knock of his nose against your clit and the prod of his tongue in your hole. Your hips moved on their own, lurching up for more and more, greedier than ever.
You had no control.
Alex's cock throbbed at the tightening of your thighs around his head, scalp burning at the grip of your fingers in his hair. He practically nodded into your cunt. "Cum," he said, voice muffled. A command coated in the sweetness of encouragement. "Wanna taste you, pretty girl."
"Jesus, fuck," you cursed, white taking over your visions as your hips lifted up, seeking the maximum sliver of euphoria to hit you. Your body convulsed against his mouth, nerves all over the place while his tongue curled around your clit.
Unstable. You were so unstable. But he held you, hands never quite letting go from your thighs while he drank every last drop of you, not wasting a mere inch.
You gasped for air, lungs demanding for it all as Alex's head came up from your legs, face shining in your slick. Your hazed eyes fell to him, tiredness creeping onto your face.
Evidently, he was not feeling it, grin wide on his face while he swiped your arousal with his fingers, licking them clean. He leaned back down, meeting your eyes. "Don't start tempting me around here," he murmured, still grinning before planting a kiss on your lips.
You swallowed tightly, heart skipping as you rested your head back down on the couch. Watching him through your peripheral, he resumed his normal routine—breakfast from the limited groceries you had both feasted on. Your stomach churned at the sight. You sighed quietly, rubbing your face with your hand.
Christ.
"And that my dearest friends is how you do a hole-in-five," George announced with a proud smile settling onto his face. He gave you three a dramatic bow, metal club clumsily clanging against the grass as he did so.
"More like a hole-in-fifteen," Carmen snorted under breath, turning over to you with her arms folded. She gave you a pointed look. "Not that he’d ever admit it."
You pursed your lips, still trying to decipher the situation you were currently in. A random Thursday. The one day you had off this week. And you were here. On endless acres of green grass with the probably the most boring sport known to mankind. Well, at least you thought so.
Apparently, George and Alex didn't quite think so.
Your eyes drifted towards Carmen, narrowing the amused look on her face. Hmm...
"What?" Carmen queried, tilting her head at you, quickly picking up on the dubious expression sprawled over your face. You were thinking a little too much for her liking.
You mimicked her folded arms. "You think I don't know what you're doing?"
"Playing golf?" She answered slowly, mending her brows.
"Cute becomes dumb in an instant, Carmen," you retorted, turning as Alex lined himself up against his club. "This is double-date behaviour," you deducted with a miserable grumble.
You should've seen the signs. It had been like this for the past week or so. With George also in England, the meetings had been incessant. Board games with the four of you. A visit to the art gallery up the road from their house. Lunch at your café during your break because apparently seeing them almost every other second wasn’t enough.
"This isn't double-date behaviour," Carmen lied. Goddammit. She should've known you'd see through it. It was George's idea after all. If it was her masterpiece, she wouldn't have gotten caught. "This is just four friends hanging out."
"Good," you replied after a beat, though you tell she was entirely fibbing. "Because that's what this is. Just because we're... whatever-ing, doesn't mean you have to make it a thing out of it."
Carmen tongued her cheek, biting back from pointing out the obvious. Mornings, breakfast, and a spare key together was definitely, at the very least, something if not a thing of itself. "Duly noted," she smoothly said, keeping her grin at bay as Alex came back walking towards you, golf ball in hand and his club in another.
You raised a brow at the eager-eyed expression he gave. You could put two-and-two together easily. "Yeah... not happening."
Alex's shoulders slumped, sigh dramatic as ever. "Oh come on," he groaned. "You'll enjoy it. I promise."
You breathed in before pursing your lips. "Alex, I mean this with the kindness of my heart and no offence to George, but this is an old white man’s timepass."
George blinked, arm resting on the rod of his club. "I'm not even that old yet—"
"And I agree," Alex nodded, smile sweet and encouraging regardless. "But... it's really fun. Unless you're like... afraid you'll lose or something."
Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, eye twitching at the smug smirk plastered right across his face. Oh what you would've given to slap it right off. A begrudging sigh escaped your throat. Jutting your hand out, you gave him a bland look. "Give me the damn stuff."
The smirk on his face deepened as he inched closer, putting the club and ball towards your chest before his hand smoothly slid to the small of your back, guiding you closer to the tee planted firmly nearby. You sighed with annoyance, bending down to rest the ball on the tee, unaware of the sharp breath Alex sucked in.
Damn skort left him with little to imagine.
Clearing his throat, his hand fell to your forearm. "Okay, so move your legs a little, hmm? You’re gonna swing—"
"I know damn well you're not mansplaining golf to me," you muttered, darting your eyes over your shoulder, peering up at him with a stern look despite the burn of his fingertips into your arm.
Alex blinked. "I... You need to know how to play though. I—"
"Alex, sweetheart. I'm goddamn doctor," you stated, smile tight and sickly sweet. "Golf is child's play. It's physics. Nothing more. Nothing less."
Alex's narrowed his eyes on you. Cute and maddening. He sighed, turning you back to the front. "Flex your knees. Bend your hips like this," he quietly murmured, moving his hand around your waist in ways that felt anything but innocent.
You clenched your jaw. "I know how to move—"
"And keep your fingers like this."
"Alex—"
"Club this way and... swing!"
The silence was deafening. Birds' squawking filled the air instead. You barely got a word out, watching the club tuck deeply into the dirt, raising it along with the grass into the air as your ball pathetically rolled only a metre or two away from you.
You eyed the stagnant ball before turning to Alex, sarcasm dripping from your voice. "Alex Albon. A connoisseur of golf. Thank you for that, Alex. Really. It was beautiful."
Alex practically looked affronted; mouth gaping, eyes widening. "Me? You're the one who wouldn’t take my help!"
"Well, I wouldn't have needed it! If it wasn’t for your stupid hands—"
The gasp in the air was beyond dramatic.
"Stupid? That was not what you were saying this—"
"Alex!"
George tilted his head, watching the scene in front of him unfold with his wife. He mended his brows, leaning down to Carmen. "Maybe you should put your hundred into some savings. Get some interest on it."
Carmen glared at her husband, whacking his arm with irritation though she would almost be obliged to agree. Almost.
Mornings, breakfast, a spare key, and a little bit of arguing.
The perfect recipe for nothing to be a something.
You sighed, eyes still heavy with exhaustion from work. The night shift had put out all the works this time. Understaffed with some of the worst cases you could imagine. Even worse. No Sam to make you sane through it all.
You stared at the ghost town in your fridge. A quarter jug of milk left. Three slices of bread. A single carrot. And a door full of only condiments.
"Seriously," you grumbled, leaning on the door with a frown. A grocery run wasn't even enough. You’d need bulk buy it all at this rate. With another deep sigh, you grabbed the milk jug and closed the fridge. Tea it was.
Your ears perked at the sound of your door opening; your spare key lodged in Alex's hand as he entered your apartment.
Alex grinned quietly, taking his headphones out of his ears. "You're back," he said, noticing the dreary smile stretching onto your face as you inched towards the kitchen. His eyes followed you while he unlaced his shoes, keeping them on your newly invested shoe shelf (you didn't usually have many shoes at the front but these days a certain someone made them endless).
"Wait, wait," Alex quickly interjected, spotting you place the milk jug down on the kitchen counter.
You raised a brow, turning back to him, finding him already stepping closer. "What?"
"Teach me how to make It."
You blinked. taken aback. Maybe you needed to go to bed already. "Huh?" You dumbly said.
Alex chuckled softly. "You're tired. I'm not. You make your tea a specific way. Teach me how," he reasoned with a satisfied breath.
You pursed your lips at the mere idea. Arguably, there was something far more intimate and vulnerable in teaching Alex one of the few things that brought you peace in the world. It was your thing. Your handmade solution to the problems in life.
On the other hand... getting him to do it for you did sound appealing.
You sucked in a sharp breath, hand flying to your hip. "It would be more beneficial to send you to get more food for my fridge. You have the appetite of a lion," you remarked blankly, blaming him entirely for your empty fridge.
He rolled his eyes, unbothered to make any attempt to deny it. He let out a small sigh. “We’ll go later. Now come on," he nudged you gently with his elbow, slotting himself next to you, brown eyes raking over your kitchen counter. "Show me how."
You pursed your lips, too tired to argue or make up another excuse. "Fine," you agreed, reaching over to grab the small pot nearby, stabilising it over your stove as you begun to instruct him.
"So..." Alex said after a few minutes, watching the water full of cinnamon sticks, ginger, and cardamom simmer, steeping in the flavour. He turned to you, leaning against the counter, arms folded. "How was your day?"
Your eyes darted between the stove and him. So that's where you were now. 'Honey-I'm-home' type questions.
You swallowed, mind churning through your recollection of today's events. "Chaotic," you started, wincing as the memories you shoved away began to hit you once again. "I should've known it would be when I walked in. It was so quiet. Then we had a nurse shortage—that was expected. Then I had no Sam for my sanity, followed by our asshole surgeon who thinks he’s top shit for existing, ordering me around like I was a speck of dirt," you grimaced.
Alex frowned. "I'm sorry. That sounds awful."
You snorted at his concern, shaking your head as you eyed the stove. "That's normal stuff. Unfortunately," you muttered bitterly before blinking. "Though there was one good thing about today."
"Oh?" He raised a brow, body turning towards you with interest, ears perked. He could spot the smile already easing onto your face, making him mirror the same image. "What was it?"
"We had an emergency C-section," you whispered, half with excitement and the other with awe. "I mean don't get me wrong. Circumstantially, it was awful. But we had two whole new lives. The mother and the kid," you breathed, laughing softly. "I don't think I took a breath until we finished. Poor baby wasn't crying. Freaked us all out. But when he did... that collective breath we all took... it was beautiful really."
Alex's gentle smile deepened. That was beautiful. And the way you talked about it, even more so.
"Add tea leaves and reduce the heat," you reminded, spotting the rich burgundy colour seeping through the water.
Blinking, he followed your instructions, acutely aware of your peering gaze. He stirred the mixture briefly, resting the spoon on its side as he turned back to you. He pressed his lips together. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Go on," you hummed idly.
"Why the ED?"
You paused, looking over at him from the stove. "What?" You queried like you hadn't heard him correctly.
"Why did you choose emergency medicine? Not... I don't know... neurosurgery or orthopaedics like Sam?" Alex asked, intently watching you.
You almost frowned at the sight. He looked at you so... deeply. Like he actually cared about what you were going to say. Clearing your throat, you looked away, eyeing the odd bits in your kitchen while you spoke. "I don't really have the nice answer you're looking for, Alex. It didn't call to me, nor do I have a sappy story."
"I don't mind hearing the worst of it."
You darted your eyes to the side, still capturing his gaze through your peripheral. You breathed in tightly, shrugging. "It keeps me busy. Away from them."
He mended his brows. "From... your parents?"
You nodded after some time, looking over at the simmering water. "I figured... if I was always busy then I wouldn't have to see them all the time," you murmured, tinges of shame flushing your cheeks. You bit your lip at the deafening silence. You had never admitted it out loud. Not even on Matching Day, where your parents looked at you confused.
"Probably should add the milk and sugar," you mumbled, watching him do just that wordlessly. You swallowed tightly as the need to explain overwhelmed you like an overflowing container. “It’s tough, you know? I'm everything they want me to be and it's never enough. I know they’ve sacrificed everything for me but it's like my life isn’t mine. And my mother never lets me forget it. It's exhausting. I mean every day, it's the same old thing. My goddamn future. But... I'm horrible daughter so I guess it doesn't matter."
The frown on Alex's face was immediate. There was no dry look on your face. No inch of humour. As though you had internalised all of what you had experienced and truly believed it. All he could see was the tired pain drowning you out.
You blinked at the feel of Alex's hand cupping your cheek, other hand tucking a loose tress behind your ear. Your chest stumbled at the warm brown eyes looking back at you. "Well, I for one, am glad you're in the present. You are perfect just the way you are. You've worked hard and you’re surviving. You are right where you're meant to be. Don't let anyone ever take that away from you."
Although you didn't show it, your heart clenched miserably. Always on the brink, tiptoeing the line of destruction and reconstruction. And it was like he had reached out, all on his own accord, and offered a piece of his for you to take.
"Thank you," you merely whispered, not quite trusting the thickness in your voice.
Alex smiled tightly, nodding slowly. "Anytime," he murmured, leaning in to kiss the side of your head.
You breathed in, calm and composed as you could be. Like every nerve of yours hadn't been tampered or altered. "Now turn off the stove. Don’t go burning my tea, Alex. I barely have enough milk as it is," you teased, giving him a small nudge despite the lingering ghost of his kiss on your head.
He chuckled softly, stepping back from you, eyes travelling to your fridge before he looked back at you. "Let's hit the stores after this, yeah?"
You pursed your lips in thought. "Can I sleep on the way? And on the way back?"
He rolled his eyes, corners of his mouth quirking up. "Never."
"I can help you, you know," you said to Alex, dazed eyes falling down to the mounds of heavy bags full of enough food to last you a month. But Alex... a week or two tops.
Alex smiled effortlessly as you both waited for the elevator door to open. "Funny how these hands can do a lot more than make you scream for more," he hummed, dancing his fingers around the bag straps, grin now widely stretched onto his face.
You blinked, face dropping despite the flush in your cheeks. You sucked in a sharp breath of annoyance, fingers clutching the railing tightly as the sickening motion finally came to an end.
"On second thought, I think you can open the door on your own," you retorted dryly, folding your arms as you stepped out of the elevator swiftly, hips moving with purpose.
He swallowed tightly, brown eyes falling to the action. "O-Okay, I'm not Scarlet Witch," he deadpanned, eyes slightly widened with hurry as he followed after you. "I take it back! Just open the—oomf!"
Alex blinked, ingrained reflexes working overtime when you suddenly stopped in middle of the corridor. With furrowed brows, he peered over you curiously. "What are you—" He cut his own words off, looking at the figure standing outside your door.
Your mother.
You pressed your lips together tightly, hands falling to the side. "Ma," you greeted curtly, inadvertently telling Alex you hadn't resolved anything with your mother since the last time you had seen her.
You still hadn't apologised for storming out of the house, not that you had to, but it had solidified whatever horrid image of you she had managed to draw up. Of course, she hadn't apologised either. You were pretty sure neither of you knew how to. And if you had gotten your stubbornness from anywhere, it was definitely from the source.
You didn't want to fold first. At least not so easily.
But looking at the bag of food in her hand, you wondered if this was her way of doing so.
"Mrs ____."
You blinked at the sound of Alex's voice, reminding you how you had gotten into the situation in the first place. Alex. Your lovely neighbour. The neighbour you wanted your mother to stay away from as far away as possible.
You breathed in, turning on your feet to meet Alex with a pinched smile. "Thank you for your help, Alex. I think I've got it from here," you muttered, prying the bags out of his reluctant hands. You gave him a small glare, nudging him to let go.
Alex begrudgingly obliged, unhappiness clear on his face. "Right," he nodded slowly, taking a slow step back.
"Don't be rude, beta," your mother's sharp voice drifted into the air, directed at you like a knife. She smiled behind you at Alex. "Come in."
You sucked in a tight breath, eyeing the corridor floor with much more interest. "I'm sure he's busy," you retorted, forcing yourself to turn around, lifting your gaze to meet your mother's.
Alex silently watched the both of you, torn between his options. It was clear you didn't want him anywhere near your mother, for whatever reason. But it was your mother asking him. "I... I don’t mind."
Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. You were going to kill him.
"Go take a shower and come back for some proper food," your mother ordered, tucking away the containers she had brought into your fridge, lined up with your newly bought groceries.
Your lips parted in disbelief, eyeing her back with the annoyance that had been simmering for weeks now. Fuck, this was humiliating. You stepped forward, something not so nice right on the tip of your tongue before you felt Alex's hand fall to the small of your back.
His head dipped down, voice barely above a whisper. "Just go. I got it."
You turned your head to him, giving him a resigned look. But he remained determined. "Go," he mouthed.
He watched you sigh almost audibly, turning on your foot to head to your bedroom to get a pair of spare clothes. He sucked in a sharp breath, shoulders slightly relieved at the temporary avoidance of disaster. He turned back to your mother, eyes flickering to the counter of groceries. Inching closer, he grabbed the two jugs of milk, making his way towards the fridge.
"She bought a lot of food," your mother commented after a quiet minute, organising her dishes. "Enough for two people," she chuckled.
Alex almost choked on his spit, composing a polite smile onto his face. "I think she said she'll prepare stuff for the rest of the month," he commented idly, grabbing the vegetables for the drawers near the bottom.
"Hmm," she hummed quietly, moving to sort the items for the pantry. "How are you, Alex? How is the building treating you?"
He swallowed, closing the fridge after a minute or two. "Uh, good. Yeah, good," he nodded, tongue clinging to his teeth as he searched for more words. "Fourth floor treats me well. Peace and quiet. It's nice... from all the noise, you know?"
Your mother tipped her head in agreement, brows mending as she turned from the groceries. Her head tilted. "I thought you lived on the fifth floor?"
Alex blinked. What?
Was this not... shit—the fourth floor was your floor.
Fuck.
He chuckled awkwardly. "Did I say forth? I meant fifth. Sorry. All these days without racing… I can’t function," he muttered, scratching the back of his head, sweat picking up on his skin.
He knew he was the one who told you to go and shower but fuck, he hoped you'd be finished soon. He going to crumble under your mother's pressure without even knowing it.
"They cancelled it, right? The news said something about it," she mumbled, eyeing the pad krapao sauce mix she had pulled out of the bag. You and Thai food? Strange.
Alex pulled his lip between his teeth, soul beginning to leave his body. He was going to make it for you, goddammit. He blinked at your mother's raised brow, reminding him of her question. He nodded quickly. "Yeah... uh, they cancelled two races. Unfortunate but it was a good decision."
"When do you go back?" She asked, slotting the packet into your shelf of spices and sauces.
"May. I'm still training, of course," he said, grabbing some of the empty reusable bags to fold. "I'm just here for... my family. Training and family. How interesting right?" He sarcastically said, overcompensating for the stressed nerves in his brain.
"Very interesting," your mother murmured in response, watching him put your empty bags into the fourth drawer, full of all the other ones.
Your eyes flitted over your dining table awkwardly, brain still trying to decipher the presence of your mother and Alex in one room. Could’ve been your father here but no. It just had to be your mother.
"Alex, have you ever had avial?" Your mother queried, sharp eyes moving to you, gesturing you to serve him the dish she had made yesterday.
You held in your eye roll, standing from your chair, getting a few spoonfuls of the vegetable stew for him onto his dish, adding some rice soon after.
"Uh, no," he mumbled, giving you a small smile. "Smells amazing though. Is that coconut?"
Your mother smiled, impressed. "You have good sense of smell," she praised, hand lifting once you served her some as well, indicating she had enough on her plate. She breathed in, looking back at Alex. "It's like a vegetable stew. I know you Brits like stew. This one is healthier."
You almost made a face as you sat down. It was coconut. A child could smell that from miles away. Someone like Alex didn't need his ego getting any bigger.
"Well, it looks amazing."
"Thank you," your mother commented. Her lips parted, eyes falling to his plate. "Did you want to get him a spoon? We normally eat with our hands, you see."
You blinked, automatically standing but Alex's hand reached out, keeping you seated in your chair. You swallowed at the action, moving your arm away from him quickly, not letting him linger any second longer.
"I'm okay. Hands are fine," he smiled, brown eyes drifting from you and your arm, bringing himself closer to the table.
The conversation fell into place easier than you liked. Every sentence light like it was casual. And you hadn't said a word. You couldn't bring yourself to. For every second that passed, you replayed that night in your head.
The words that had been said because of the person next to you. The harsh allegations that had been hurled at you from the person across you. And here they were. Having a conversation. Your mother acting like you hadn't fundamentally crossed Alex off any possible future, entertaining him with intentions unknown to you.
"___," you mother's voice erupted into the air after some time had passed. Her eyes glossed over your mostly empty plate, representing how little you had been saying. "How was work?"
You pursed your lips, rounding the grains of avial-laden rice with your hand. "Fine," you murmured vaguely, bringing the mouthful up towards yourself, opting not to tell her the version you had given Alex just hours ago.
Alex held in his wince, brown eyes cautiously looking over you. Not as though you were a ticking time bomb. But with the same ache in his chest. You were more fundamentally upset than angry even if you didn't know it. Somewhere, under this toughened persona, was the very woman who had willingly (though reluctantly) your problems on the phone that night and just a few hours ago.
He watched your mother's mouth open, some sort of loose insult on the tip of her tongue, aimed and loaded. Some comment on how you shouldn’t speak like this when guests were around. Or just another "Don't be rude," ready to be quipped.
"It must've been a long day," he quickly cut in with a tight smile, meeting your slightly surprised gaze peering back at him. He smiled deeper. "Work can be like that, hmm?"
You breathed in at his small nudge to your arm, swallowing your mouthful slowly. Nodding casually, you reached over for some water, momentarily meeting your mother's gaze. Although light, it was careful the way it always was. Telling you to get your act together. To stop being so childish.
Surrender.
You did nothing of the sort, taking a sip of water before you leaned back in your chair. The sit back goaded her, forcing her to remember what exactly had brought you to this very position.
"Thank God she has a great neighbour though!" Alex joked, his attempt at lightening the mood. "Even offered to help her with her groceries. What are you ever going to do without me?" He sighed dramatically, turning his head to you.
You rolled your eyes, stubborn in preventing the quirk of your lips as you pushed your chair back. Grabbing your cleared plate, you headed towards the kitchen's sink, aware of the look of disapproval on your mother's face. Allowing your small grin to stretch onto your face, you shook your head.
Idiot.
"I know and I'll bring them," Alex huffed, phone jammed between his ear and shoulder as he handed you the plate he had just washed. "If I forget them then we can just get them when I reach. They're balloons, Zoe," he sighed.
You pursed your lips, preventing the smile from sprawling on your face, drying the water away. Your mother had returned back home which was great news for you. You didn't exchange anything on the drive back. Pure silence for a chance of apologising. But neither one of you had committed to it.
When you had come back to the apartment, Alex hadn’t said a word about it. He didn't press it. Although you were sure he wanted to. He just held up a tea towel and said, "I'll give you drying duty because I feel generous."
And now you were partially overhearing a conversation with him and his sister. Well... lecture was more like it.
"Do you have such little faith in me?" Alex exasperated, hands paused over the last dish with a frown, soap suds dripping into the sink. "Yes, I will pay you back the one pound," he deadpanned, eyes rolling. "Okay. Bye. Good night."
A sigh flew past his lips, giving you a thankful smile as you took the phone from him and rested it aside while he resumed cleaning the dish.
"What was that?" You queried, putting your dry plate away.
He shook his head, still amused by the call. "That," he started, rinsing the dish, "was the sound of true siblinghood. Damn brats think I'm so old I can’t even bring water balloons tomorrow," he muttered, handing you the now-clean plate.
You blinked, raising a brow as you brought the tea towel up. "Oh... you're going tomorrow?"
Alex dried his hands on a nearby towel, head nodding. "Yeah. For Songkran remember?"
You pursed your lips. Now that you thought about it, he had mentioned it. At some point. Between one position and another. You weren't sure. Things had become blurry before you had even known it.
Alex was sure you had no idea about the small frown on your face as you dried your plate in deep thought. It was yet another one of those things that made him want to fall to his knees. The mere idea of you even being a little bit sad he was leaving was a win.
But the more he thought about it, the more he thought about leaving you alone in your apartment with your mind not quite in the right place. After your mother's visit, he wasn't sure he liked leaving you by yourself, even though he knew you were more than capable of it. So the words came flying out of his mouth.
"Do you want to come with me?"
You paused, resting the plate back in its proper place, turning your head to him. "Huh?"
He swallowed, cursing the sudden clamminess of his fingers. "To celebrate with my family. I mean, you don't have to, I was just offering and like I totally get if you don't want to and—"
"Sure."
"—it's not like a big de—wait what?" Alex blinked. "Really?"
You narrowed your eyes, heat pouring into your cheeks. "You're the one who asked. Unless you don’t want me to then—"
"No! Please come. I would love for you to come," he coughed slightly, brain jumbled at your acceptance, heart pacing at the thought of you and his family in one place. He cleared his throat, breathing in before giving you a composed smile. "We would love for you to join us."
You pursed your lips, nodding slowly while the flush in your cheeks only deepened at the sight of his face. "Great," you mumbled awkwardly, struggling to hook the tea towel back into its place. "I look forward to it."
did u add matteo like mr hot nurse night shift matteo???? from the pitt???? also the same john tucker from off campusss???? are we being fr rn????? stawppppp
heyy just curious if u have watched off campus. if u haven't u totally should ! and give us ur opinions and views after cause i would love to hear em
yes!! i binged it once it came out!
i think overall it was really nice! sweet and cosy vibes for the good parts. really good communication in all the horrible situations (especially when you compare it to other shows/movies these days).
i was kinda surprised about how much time tho they spent on garrett's dad versus hannah's backstory. they were both handled well but i thought hannah's would be a bit more extensive? especially when she was being intimate.
i think there were a few changes compared to the book since i first read it (i don't fw kennedy ngl). not all of them made sense but some were nice like removing the hands off law. this garrett and book garrett were different. i like the show garrett 🥰
the amount of liquid iv placements thooo... made me want to gauge my eyeballs.
favourite scene was the thanksgiving and the growing fruits/vegetables 😭 i love tucker tbh.
but yeah. refreshing to watch after kinda shitty shows for years. kinda gave me never have i ever vibes (i miss devi sm). definitely enjoyed it!
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: heading into ferrari for a new season, you think you're pretty focused. but things don't look too good when a series of love notes from your secret admirer start appearing out of nowhere.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: so so much fluff, poor humour, charles being corny affffff, reader is lowkey oblivious, arthur being the best brother in the world, mentions of charles' hardships with monza and monaco as well as lewis' own hardships, two idiots in love basically
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3.3k
𝐀/𝐍: the last fic of my series! even though it's the cheesiest thing i've written, i love cheesy shit and even better if it's with charles! i really enjoyed writing this series! it's also the most active i've been in a while so that's been really fun. leave some requests and i might just take your offer up. // as usual, poorly proofread
𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Lewis Hamilton moving to Ferrari was a shock to most. Whether it was good or bad, well that was up to the individual.
And while Charles was very welcoming of the move, having the Lewis Hamilton as his teammate wasn’t quite the reason.
It was you.
Lewis Hamilton to Ferrari didn’t just bring the history, talent, and skills. It also happened to bring along his personal trainer – you.
You hadn’t been training Lewis long. Around three years after his previous personal trainer left. There was a lot of doubt surrounding you. You were young. A bit new to the world of motorsports. And it didn’t seem like you were helping Lewis through some of his hardest years at Mercedes.
But truth be told, underneath all of that, you happened to understand Lewis to a ‘T’. His mentality, his values, his respect, and his beliefs. They coincided with yours. Together, you could achieve the impossible, you were both sure of it.
Unfortunately, Mercedes just had a really shitty car (and a shitty attitude).
Cue the move to Ferrari. Which in reality was music to Charles’ ears.
Over the past few years, Charles had managed to become friends with you. It took him a while seeing as you were slightly reserved and all over the paddock at all times. But once you had given him one of the most inspiring and encouraging talks, he had ever received after the stint Ferrari had pulled on him in Monaco, 2022 – it was safe to say you had progressed your friendship.
To anyone with a brain and perhaps even slightly declined vision, it was plain as day that Charles was interested in you. Because someone not interested in you wouldn’t stop his interviews to say ‘Hi’ to you, get you involved in Ferrari’s YouTube videos, or walk the track every morning just so he could join you.
2024 was an irritating year for Charles. While the SF-24 wasn’t particularly awful and Charles had still managed to win some races, there was still something missing. Not to mention, a whole Constructor’s championship. Furthermore, waiting for you and Lewis to arrive to Maranello was like telling a child to wait to open their Christmas gift – it was far too long of a wait.
But the time had finally come. Charles had done his annual training camp and arrived to Maranello and both you and Lewis had officially settled down in the area. The first few weeks with you on the team was surreal. Charles was spending more time with you than ever. Almost every day he interrupted your lunch and sat down with you. When Lewis was in the car, he’d appear next to you, discussing smalls things like how you were finding Italy or how the car was.
With every passing second, he spent with you, Charles was struggling to be just friends with you. Especially with the occasional rumor or ship edit of you and Lewis. Deep down, he knew there was nothing to be worried about. Lewis saw you more as a sister if anything, sharing your knowledge with him.
It was time, however, to change this.
Charles had planned it out carefully. Fourteen notes from your secret admirer. Plastered around all areas you visit the most within the Ferrari headquarters. One for every day up until the holiday of love itself: Valentine’s Day.
The first five notes were relatively tame and simple, complimenting your hair or your smile or even giving you some encouragement. They were enough to get you to pull Charles and Lewis aside.
“Guys,” you ushered, gathering the two men into a small circle. “Don’t tell anyone just yet, but for the past few days, I’ve been getting these secret notes,” you squealed quietly, holding a few of them in your hands.
Lewis raised a brow, taking one into his hand. “Secret notes? You mean like letters from a secret admirer?” He asked, reading the note slowly.
You paused. A secret admirer. You hadn’t really thought of the notes like that. You scratched the back of your neck awkwardly. “Oh... I’m not quite sure about that. They seem really sweet but I don’t think they mean it like that.”
Charles pursed his lips together, in disbelief that he was watching his entire plan fall apart before his very eyes. “I mean... they probably do mean it like that,” he chuckled, trying to waver off his nervousness. He blinked at the staring expressions from you and Lewis. “I mean–who leaves compliments they could say to your face on paper if they don’t like you.”
Huh. Now that you thought about it, that was a reasonable argument. “Maybe,” you agreed with a small nod, taking back the notes.
Lewis shoved his hands in his pockets, moving his knowing glance from Charles to you. “Do you think they’ll ever reveal themselves?”
Unbeknownst to you, Charles’ skin began heating up as you gave a small shrug. “Possibly. Who knows? I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”
━━━━━━━━━━━
After your conversation with Charles and Lewis, your notes were starting to become only slightly less complimentary and more poetic.
“At night, when the world falls asleep and all is still, you take over my every thought, against my will.”
“Your laugh is a melody of my favourite music notes I wish to hear. A song for my ears only. So soft and so warm.”
“The smile you wear, while unnoticed by all, is one I cannot forget at all.”
Were they cheesy and corny? Yes. Absolutely.
But were you smiling from ear to ear? A hundred percent.
It was getting bad now. For every note you read, your heart would race against your chest, your cheeks would flush, and the world seem to go quiet. You were sure this was exactly what this person wanted.
You couldn’t help but try figure out who the person was. But so far, there were very little personal clues in the notes. All you knew is that the person seemed to know you quite well as every note you found were in the places you visited the most.
“Hello,” a voice sung.
You looked up from the laptop you were supposed to be doing work on (and not daydreaming about love letters). You grinned at the familiar face. “Baby Leclerc!”
Arthur gave you a feigned pained expression, taking a seat next to you. “You and Charles... I swear,” he sighed, resting his head on the chair as you laughed softly. He turned his head to you. “So, I hear you’ve been getting secret notes?”
You flickered your eyes over to Arthur. “That idiot! I told Charles not to tell anyone,” you pouted.
Things are different when your brother sends you to deliver these same notes at six in the morning. Arthur simply smiled. “Any ideas on who it is?”
You sighed, shutting your laptop. “Nope,” you pursed your lips. You had received ten notes in total now. You had managed to pick out a few things. “I think whoever it is likes music or plays something since I’ve had three notes about music. They also might like snow since my ‘heart is as soft as the snow.’”
Arthur pressed his lips together on a line, trying to control his body from projectile vomiting on his brother’s corny notes. “Sound like anyone you know?” He asked, watching you carefully.
Surely by now...
You furrowed your brows. Music and snow. Music and snow. Music and snow. Nothing. There was nothing going through your head and Arthur could tell.
“Well,” Arthur started, standing up from his seat. “I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”
You smiled. “Hopefully.”
━━━━━━━━━━━
Four notes were left and it was getting more difficult to not only convince Arthur to put them in the selected locations but to make sure you were able to see them. It was getting closer and closer to the date of the car launch. It was five days after Valentine’s Day, the day you were going to receive your last note and this game of hide and seek would finally come to an end.
D-3
“You guide me through all the noise and speed. When you’re here, I find all I need.”
Noise and speed? Now you were thrown off. What did that mean? The noise and speed of what?
But as you walked past the plethora of rooms working on every small or big part of Ferrari’s new car for the season, one cog turned in place. You halted in your steps, thinking very carefully as drills and machines vibrated throughout the building.
Of course. The person had to be within Scuderia Ferrari. Your first thought – it could’ve been anyone. But noise and speed? That was Formula 1. That was at least all your engineers, mechanics, pit crew...
You felt a hand rest on your shoulder, your name softly being called out. “Hey. You okay, chérie?” Charles queried, blue eyes looking down at you slightly concerned.
You blinked, allowing a smile to grace your face even though it felt like the weight of his hand was burning your skin. You tried to keep your cheeks from heating up but any efforts were wasted. “Yeah, great,” you breathed. “Just figuring some things out.”
Charles slowly nodded, removing his hand and allowing you to breathe again. “Okay,” he murmured, “I just wanted to ask. Make sure you eat and drink well, hmm? I don’t want you passing out on the launch.”
You rolled your eyes, cheeks still burning. “Speak for yourself. Don’t think I haven’t seen you skipping lunch for the past week.”
Charles grinned to himself. You noticed. Reality was that he was struggling to not just confess every time he saw you, so he thought cutting one part of his day with you would help. It didn’t. But, hey, at least you noticed.
“You can just say you miss me. I won’t tell anyone, chérie. It’ll be our little secret,” he winked, starting to quickly walk past you in the hope you can’t see his flustered expression.
You blinked blankly again, feeling your heart loudly beat in your chest.
Holy shit.
D-2
“Even amongst the roar of the engine and the cheer of the crowd, you’re the only one I can hear.”
So, you were right. Whoever this admirer was, they were dealing with Ferrari’s car in some shape or format. It was more likely to be a mechanic or engineer, maybe even a test driver.
But one who liked music and snow? You couldn’t think of one person who fitted in all those categories.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Lewis queried, taking a seat next to you at lunch. He mended his brows, tilting his head. “Or should I say euro?”
You huffed, shaking your head. “Funny guy, aren’t ya?”
“Very,” Lewis commented before nudging your shoulder. “So... what’s on your mind? A secret admirer, perhaps?”
You rolled your eyes at his teasing tone. “Sort of. I’m just trying to figure them out. I just wish...”
Lewis raised a brow, turning his body to yours. “You wish...?”
You wished Charles was your secret admirer instead.
Sure, the notes made your day. But Charles was making your day in real life... off the paper. Just this morning, you and Charles had bumped into each other after you received your note. You were about to order your usual drink when he had ordered it for you, memorising the way you liked it exactly.
You told him you couldn’t believe he remembered. And he responded, “Of course I remember. Why wouldn’t I?”
The moment had left you thinking for the entire day. You hadn’t seen him since but you don’t think you could look at him without being flustered and a hot mess.
“Nothing,” you mumbled, sighing while Lewis grinned to himself. He knew exactly what you were wishing for.
D-1
“For every checkered flag that waves, you’re the one I look for first. Because even in a crowded room, I’ll always look for you.”
Checkered flags were always a mess. Seconds before the race leader would even pass, the garage and the stands were always moving, running, to the podium. It was rhythm of chaos. You never knew who was next to you. All you could feel was what it felt like in the moment.
Silverstone 2024 was for you to remember forever. Lewis’ first win since 2021 – since you had joined him as his personal trainer. The driver to have the most wins at a single circuit and it was at his home race.
Tears were shed that day.
And the crowd was something you would never forget. You almost lost yourself until Lewis had found you himself, thanking you for being by his side for some of the toughest years of his life.
But for your secret admirer to find you in a crowd of a checkered flag waves... well, they must have some good eyes.
You were lying down on a bench with Charles seated next to you and Arthur sitting across you. All of you were on your break, soaking in the tiny bit of sun that had come out during winter.
Your eyes were shut, protecting yourself from the sun and from melting under Charles’ gaze. You could hear Arthur call your name, making your ears perk up. “What do you look for in a guy?”
You couldn’t see it but Charles was sending the most heaviest glare he could muster to his younger brother. Arthur simply rolled his eyes, waiting for your response.
“That’s such a random question,” you mumbled.
Arthur cleared his throat. You were already onto him. “I mean... well, I asked Jade after I saw a TikTok of people’s responses. She said personality which is great, I guess. Kind of unsettling news for my face though,” he murmured towards the end.
You and Charles found yourself laughing at the scenario. Arthur was truly one of a kind. Quietening down, you realised the brothers were both waiting for your answer. “Um,” you momentarily pondered, “their soul.”
Arthur and Charles paused. The younger brother raised a brow you couldn’t see. “Their soul? What are you, a grim reaper?”
You chuckled softly. “It’s not that... it’s–well, I think everyone has specific types of souls. You can see it when you talk to someone and get to know them. It’s someone’s essence... the fabric of who they are.”
Charles leaned over, face hovering over you from a safe distance. “Their souls?” He repeated out of curiosity.
You nodded. “Yep. Everyone has one. Even you.”
Now you had full undivided attention. “Yeah? What do you think my soul is like, chérie?”
You opened your eyes, swallowing hard when you met those baby blues. Letting out a slow exhale, you stared at him as you thought about your answers. The words seemed to come easily to you.
“Charles... your soul dances. Purely. Freely. It dances to every fleeting moment and to the rhythm of life. Your soul finds meaning in everything because you have the biggest heart I’ve ever known. Because you are the most beautiful person I have ever met, inside and out.”
Charles blinked, speechless. He wasn’t sure what was more touching. Your words or your sheer seriousness. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his heart at bay.
One more day...
That’s all he needed to wait for
D-DAY
“Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? I don’t know about you but I hope they do.”
You stared at the piece of paper. Souls? All of a sudden?
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” a voice quietly greeted behind you.
You turned your body despite knowing exactly who it was by the wave of warmth his voice had sent through you. “Hmm? Did you say something?”
Charles pursed his lips. Shoving his hands in his pockets of his jacket and smiled. “I said Happy Valentine’s Day. You know... since it’s the fourteenth.”
You nodded slowly, half processing his words while his dimples twinkled at you. “You too,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up once again. Stupid goddamn cheeks and their susceptibility to Charles.
You watched his eyes to fall the note in your hands. “Another note?” He asked.
You gave a small smile. “Yup.”
Charles cleared his throat, shuffling on his feet. “What does it say today?”
You opened your mouth, ready to start complaining. “It asks me about whether I think the universe fights for souls to be together–”
“Well, do you?” Charles queried, softly staring at you.
You blinked, feeling tongue-tied. “I... I-I mean yes. I’m sure the universe does but that’s not my point. My point is... is that it’s too random. Where did souls come from? This entire time it’s been music, piano, snow, noise, engines, and checkered flags... it’s so random. They’ve all been somewhat connected by now and–”
“Chérie,” Charles called.
“Yeah?” You responded only to be met with silence. You mended your brows together as he silently stood in front of you. Why wasn’t he saying anything?
You felt the walls of the world close in on you as he raised his eyebrows gently. Surely not...
Charles took a step closer to you, grabbing your hand with his. “I’m not sure about the universe, chérie. But I would love to fight for us.”
Your mouth fell open. You think your hands were shaking. “Charles... you wrote the notes?”
“Yeah,” he admitted, hand reaching to rub the back of his neck as his own cheeks started to burn.
“I’ve been planning it a few days after you came to Maranello. I just didn’t know how long I could be just friends with you for but I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you then. If it isn’t clear yet,” he breathed in, thumb rubbing your hand gently, “I really really like you.”
You gulped. Charles’ eyes were always soft. They changed when he raced. Like he could burn down the track. But today, they looked at you with such a warm and heartfelt intensity. It was the same one when he lost in Monaco and when he won.
The same one you found searching for you in the crowd.
Charles’ breath hitched as he felt you lean in. He watched you move your head, eyes falling to his lips. And just like that, he could feel your lips pressed onto the corner of his mouth. He steadied himself as you pull away, your thumb grazing his mouth gently.
He flickered his eyes to your lips as the words fall freely. “I like you too.”
Charles grinned, dimples popping out once again. His arms moved to wrap themselves around your waist, bringing you into a tight hug. He let out a relieved exhale. “Thank God,” he murmured next to your ear.
He could feel you laugh against him and he loved it. “What did you think I was gonna say? That I didn’t like you?” You asked with a small smile as you pulled away from his body, still in his grasp.
Charles rolled his eyes, thumb rubbing small circles into your waist. He looked at you, taking in the moment. He gave you a small shrug. “You always make me nervous,” he sighed out.
“Me? Make you nervous?” You gaped. “I’m pretty sure I’m shaking right now.”
A wide smile graced his face. “I’m glad I have the ability to do that.”
You stayed silent, unsure if you could trust yourself to speak any further. You simply smiled, cheeks still burning to react to Charles while you rested in his arms.
“Chérie,” he called softly and this time you looked back to what was yours.
You tilted your head, waiting for him to say something.
“You never asked me about your soul,” he stated.
The way he said it made the comment sound factual. But you didn’t understand. “What do you mean?” You asked.
He laughed quietly at your confused expression. Tucking your hair behind your ears, Charles rested his hands back on your waist. “I want you to ask me what I think about your soul.”
You fell quiet for a brief second. Christ, was he sure that you were the one making him nervous? Because he sure knew how to make you speechless.
“Okay.” You breathed, giving him a small smile. Moving your arms to his neck, you hung them and opened your mouth. “Charles, what do you think about my soul?”
“Chérie, you said my soul dances. But your soul... it breathes. It lives. Everywhere you walk, you give life to world. You create reason. Everything you say and do sounds like a song. Even your silence is music. Sweetheart, you make living the most beautiful gift of life.”
do you write abt dn3? even if he’s retired? sorry i need more content from him 🥲
i have one fic with him and lando that i wrote ages ago called 'gorgeous.' but i never really had much to write for him unfortunately 😓 sorry to disappoint ♡︎
