indian poc girlie, 18, she/her, female

574 posts

Https://twitter.com/SolidarityUKR/status/1600131421791657985

https://twitter.com/SolidarityUKR/status/1600131421791657985

thats so weird and freaky bro.

idk why theyre still continuing business there but then again it's pretty hard to pull an entire chain of supply from a country.

maybe with time they will but for now it just reflects poorly on redbull.


More Posts from Targaryenluvs

2 years ago

satellite | charles leclerc

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<3 briefly based on satellite by hs :)

SUMMARY: the one where charles tries to stay away after your falling out.

WARNING: angsty angst, swearing, drunk stuff, fluff, jealousy, and overprotective-ness (dickhead charles and ASSHOLE LANDO ladies and gents)

PAIRING: charles leclerc x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.1k - somewhere in the thousands     

A/N: the first part was supposed to be just a one shot but people asked for a p2 so here! and i didn’t proof read lemme know if there are any mistakes

tags: @sheslikeacurse @dan3avacado @miinqrii @honethatty12 @pleasedontfollowimlost

(just the people who asked for p2 i can definitely make a permanent taglist just let me know! enjoy <3)

PART 1

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It had been a few months since that night.

Five months to be exact.

Since then you had gotten over it. Over him. 

Which is what you told everyone despite the fact that you knew it wasn’t true. He crushed you. Your life came crumbling down on you in that club. And somehow he moved on particularly quickly. By Abu Dhabi his smile was back on his face, and a new girl on his arm. 

And she made your blood boil.

With her perfect self. Perfect hair. Perfect everything.

And what sucked even more than Charles moving on with lightning speed?

The fact that she was truly perfect. She was a literal angel. She was an elementary school teacher close to Charles’s Monaco apartment. And their supposed meeting made you want to gouge your own eyes out when thinking about it. They had met whilst Charles was babysitting for a friend of his, the couple being absolutely knackered from taking care of their trio of terror that Charles was kind enough to offer to take their eldest, Brina, to school. 

And when he came back to pick her up he was met with a crying Brina sitting in her lap. Her being Elena. Elena Seour. A 23 year old French woman, with brown hair and gorgeous dark brown eyes. 

How ironic. She was quite literally Y/n L/n 2.0! But not that the similarities ever resonated with you.

It was hard. Smiling to everyone, nodding, 

“Yeah it’s been a while, I’m okay.” 

“I’ve been doing great! Focusing more on work, I’m good.” 

“It’s been a while since I talked to him but yeah, overall life’s fine, I’m great.”

I’m okay. I’m good. I’m great.

Somehow those words always tasted bitter in your mouth. You always hoped that bitterness would fade away. But it had been so long, and there it was. A reminder, that you were anything but fine. 

You were walking through the streets of Monaco. 

Everything was calling out to you. The small city was bustling and bubbling on the Friday afternoon. The sun was dipping behind the crystal waters to your right as you continued your brisk walk. The taste was gone, you couldn’t be more happy, a weight of your shoulders.

You had your headphones in and were listening to music. It was calming. For the first time, in a long time, you felt at ease, peaceful. But of course that was disrupted as your best friend Spotify decided to blast ‘Kiwi’ by Harry. Which would’ve been fine despite the fact that you were in a more relaxed mood. Which prompted you to open up your phone and scroll through your thousands of playlists. 

Your hand hovered over one playlist.

‘CHAR AND Y/N/N <3′

There it was, that bitter taste.

For some stupid reason you clicked on it. But honestly, you were surprised. Not by the silly music taste comprising of ABBA, Coldplay, Harry Styles, Zayn, Kendrick and Taylor Swift to a bunch of French artists you had no clue about. But by the fact that it did nothing. Your eyes weren’t tearing up, your heartbeat the same, everything the same.

And that comforted you. You were getting better. 

But you weren’t so sure if you wanted to listen to the playlist and fall off the idea of getting better and into the dark abyss that was Charles. 

Charles Leclerc.

His smile, laugh, hair, horrifying fashion taste-

No! No, no, no. Not happening.

Your stomachs rumbling brought you back to the present day as you got out of the playlist and decided on Zayn’s “Mind of Mine” album. You continued to walk as you searched up near-by restaurants which were still open. And there it was. The echoing laughter of the gods above as the only open restaurant was-

Of course, how surprising! And not only was that annoying but the fact that the two of you had your birthday there not even six months ago felt like a slap in the face. 

Toujours. Forever.

It’s just a restaurant. It’s not like you’re going to his apartment and knocking on the door or anything Y/n. Calm the fuck down. 

You reassured yourself as you turned around and made your way to the place.

What you hadn’t prepared yourself for was the fact that you had entirely forgotten the fact that not only had Toujours been your favourite restaurant in the city but also a certain Monegasque’s.

So it was entirely shocking when you walked in and spotted the Ferrari driver through the glass sliding doors in the back. He looked gorgeous as always. The golden hour light did nothing to deter you from looking at him, it drew you in. He was wearing a white dress shirt with black pants, his blazer no where to be seen. He was reading a magazine, whilst holding onto a glass of what you assumed was alcohol but from where you were you couldn’t tell.

What did shock you was when Elena returned to the seat in front of him. His jacket draped over her shoulders, with a wide smile on her face.

The warm smile of hers was not reciprocated. 

Which piqued your interest.

The hostess returned, “We have a table ready for you Miss! Follow me.” You nodded and smiled before following her along. 

You wondered how it would be like to die by glass. Just a shard of glass to eye. Or the neck. Or the head. Each one of those options seems more friendly as you listened to Elena drone on and on and on and-

You get the idea.

Of course the only available table was next to them. 

You were sitting with your back to Charles as was he. You thanked god that he was fixing his cuff whilst you were seated. You were nowhere near ready to talk to him. Being so close in proximity to him already had your heart beating out of your chest, ready to leap and run. God you wished you could run.

But your protestant stomach thought the opposite.

Your nose scrunched in disgust as the waitress walked past with white wine. God you hated white wine. So you were even more disgusted when the glass was placed in front of Charles, to which he grabbed it and downed the entire glass. He also hated white wine, whilst Lando loved it. Which always resulted in you and Charles ganging up on him while teasing him.

“I swear to god it’s not even that bad for fucks sake Charles!”

Maybe he had a bad race week? You hadn’t been especially paying attention to Formula One since the split, only every focusing on Lando and Daniel the few times you did pay attention in the week. 

Your eyes flicked up as the waitress walked to your table with your order. God had you missed the food here. You were having a cheat day. Which Charles obviously took a bit too literally a few months ago.

So when she placed the Pizza Margherita on your table you had to refrain from kissing her out of gratefulness. The smell was intoxicating. You had also ordered Garlic bread and Mozzarella sticks. 

“Miss?”

“Hm?” 

“I said there’s an open table inside if you’d like. I can bring this all in.”

You nodded profusely. Anything to get away from Miss Chatty behind you. You took it all back. She wasn’t perfect, she was eager. Way to eager. She hung onto every word of Charles as if he was a god. Which he is but still. She was far to kind, to optimistic all the time. And god was she whiny.

“Charles you’re going to be gone for so long.”

“Charles I’m going to be so lonely.”

“I want you home please.”

She would never shut up. And she also didn’t grasp the concept that Charles was a Formula One driver. Him being busy is the first thing you have to come to terms with in order to be in a relationship with him. And you knew how much Charles hated whining. Well only a certain type of whining. By the way his muscles were tensed which was very appealing to see, you could tell he was at his breaking point. Charles had always hated being away from you, as did you hate being away from him. But you understood. The amount of effort, sacrifice and most of all time that he had put into his career. And you were always supportive, no matter what. However Elena seemed to cling onto him. She quite literally was acting like the children she cared for. Pouting her lips whilst begging him to stay with her.

“It’s just one race, why can’t you stay?”

Is this bitch for real?

The quiet music was soothing as you ate. But you couldn’t help but glance over at the couple outside ever so often. Once you were finished with quite literally all of your food safe to say you were ready to fall into a coma. Food coma that is.

And as you were gathering your belongings to leave, shouting from outside had caught your attention. 

“You always put it over me! Everything over me! Your team, career, Carlos, Lando, Arthur everyone!” 

“Ma carrière est tout! C'est comme ça que je paie ton appartement. Vos vêtements. Ta voiture. Je te donne tout ce que tu veux ! Tout le temps! Je n'ai même pas fêté la deuxième victoire de Carlos à cause de toi ! Tu m'entraînes loin de ma vie et tu m'enfermes comme si tu me possédais. God I do everything for you. Is it not enough?” 

My career is everything! It’s how I pay for your apartment. Your clothes. Your car. I give you everything you want! All the time! I didn’t even celebrate Carlos’s second win because of you! You drag me away from my life and lock me up like you fucking own me. 

“I told you to not speak in languages I don’t fucking know! I don’t give a shit about the money okay? I want you! But you don’t want me. I know it. Don’t even try to deny it okay? I see the way you look at her. When she walks by with Lando in the paddock, god you don’t even try to hide it.”

“How the hell is this about Y/n now-”

“It always is! You love her not me. You never have. You liked the idea of being with me, to get over her. It’s all about her!”

“Tu es fou.” You’re fucking crazy.

The unmistakable sound of a hand striking his face.

“I’m not stupid, I know that much French asshole.”

A teary eyed girl ran past you and you thanked god she didn’t look your way.

 Charles was sitting down again. His head in his hands. And you found yourself glossy eyed. He looked miserable. He took his head out of his hands and leaned his back, looking up at the sky.

Charles found himself thinking of you. Where were you? 

And how the hell did he get here. 

The second month he had resorted to a jab or two.

God if he could take it all back he would.

And that’s how he found himself in a bar at 2 am in the morning with Pierre, Lando and Max all around him, drunk too. Him and Lando were still iffy. Lando gave him a piece of his mind almost every day he saw the man on track after the breakup for the first month. 

The third was hateful death stares from across the paddock. 

The fourth resulted in awkward small take.

The fifth had them in an okay spot. Ever since Lando had learnt of Y/n being better in general seeing her smile return had him over the moon. Even if he was still annoyed at Charles seeing the wreck that he was had him sympathetic. 

“I don’t even- I’m not even sad over Elena. I-is that fucked?” 

“Slightly mate, but overall even after dating her you saw her about a week each month so it wasn’t t-that big of a relationship so it’s okay. You’ll be over it soon.” Lando consoled the driver.

And that had Lando and Pierre totally sober. 

“I just want my Y/n.”

After months of Charles being with Elena and re-assuring his friends and family that he was okay with out her, he was back in square one?

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me man.” Pierre sighed. 

“What?” Charles asked as he raised his head from his arms on the table only to be ushered back to his original position. 

“Shh Charlie. Ce n'est rien, rendors-toi d'accord?”

Nothing. Go back to sleep ok?

You had been twirling the umbrella in your Virgin Cocktail for the past five minutes. The club wasn’t really your scene, hasn’t been since that night. You were bored out of your mind and had no idea what to do. Seeing Charles so, broken? Exhausted? You had no thoughts to describe it. 

After a few drunken protests he was asleep. Lando and Pierre sighed in relief. 

It just hurt. You hated seeing him so down, always have.

So when your turned to inspect your surroundings and saw Charles laid across a booth to your right with Pierre and Lando slowly getting out of the booth to go to the bathroom you had to hold your head. How the hell had you run into him twice already?

And all of a sudden you were sitting by his head, and your hand brushing the hair out of his face.

“Y/n?” Pierre questioned.

“Pierre!” You smiled as you got up and wrapped him in a hug, Lando joining shortly afterwards. “What’re you doing next to Charles?” And all of a sudden your shoes became extremely interesting as you gazed at them. “I- I was just- Fuck I have no clue. I just, I miss him.”

“Y/n, as one of Charles’s best mate, I have to say that he misses you. Too much. Honestly? I think he’s still mentally at that club. Replaying it over and over. How he could’ve handled it better. Why he did what he did. He’s beating himself up over everything. Elena was just a distraction and he doesn’t even realize he’s still on you half the time. Elena looks exactly like you, brown hair and eyes, short and so on. He needs closure which I don’t think he ever got, neither did you. I loved the two of you together even if you guys were so sickeningly sweet it made me regret ever being against the two of you. But as your best friend? Since we were kids?”

Whatever he was about to say was going to hurt and you knew it.

“If you take him back I will never forgive you.” 

You never thought anything could ever rival how you felt that night but Lando always proved you wrong.

“How could you say that!” You shouted.

“He hurt you! He fucking hurt you bad. I was there for you! I held you when you cried, I dragged you of bed when you threatened to punch me in the face if I even took the covers off of you. When you teared up when finding his sweatshirt I threw it away! I will not let you go back to him if you don’t know for sure how he won’t cheat again. I can not, I will not let it happen again. Y/n you deserve so much more that some cunt who cheats.” Lando rambled on.

“I appreciate you Lando you know that. I love you, you have always been there for me no matter what. But if I want to get back with Charles that would be my choice. I am not a child, you cannot boss me around or make decisions about my life. Yes he hurt and I will forever be grateful to have had you there to get me through everything but Charles is not an idiot. If we did get back together there is no way in hell would he cheat again and I know it. I know Charles in ways that you will never.”

“You obviously didn’t know him well enough since he cheated on you. And you’re fucking going back to him like a fucking idiotic girl.”

Smack.

“How dare you. Fucking using my shit? My past against me? I don’t give a single shit if you don’t want me with Charles I am a grown fucking woman and I will do as I please. When you’ve finally got your head screwed on straight come talk to me like a normal fucking friend would, otherwise?” You looked him in his eyes.

Somehow you again ended up on a balcony for fresh air. “Y/n.” “Fuck off Lando.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me.”

“Y/n.”

Your head shot up as you turned around. Charles was standing there, and you couldn’t stop yourself from hugging him as tight as possible. 

“I missed you. I missed you so fucking much it hurt.”

“I missed you too. I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry for everything ma chérie.” 

He held your face with his hands on each cheek before resting his forehead with yours. “I missed you. These past few months have been fucking awful. God not even racing made me feel better. You have no clue how much I regret everything that happened that day. I felt so stupid, kissing some random girl when I had the most beautiful girl already. I have no clue why I did it, being drunk is no excuse. You never ever deserved any of the shit I put you through. You were always patient with me and I will be patient with you.”

You looked up into his eyes. God you missed his eyes.

“Je serai patient, je t'attendrai mon cœur.”

I will be patient, I will wait for you my heart. 

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Did you just quote Harry Styles?”

“Don’t wait. I’m here, right here spinning out waiting for you.”

“Of course. He’s my husband y’know?”

“Oh really? So do I have to fight this guy to get to you ma chérie?”

“Of course! Good luck Char, he’s really hot.” 

“Is he now?” He laughed as he tickled your sides whilst you swatted his arms and tried to wriggle away to safety.

“Mon ange please!” You cried.

His heart was intact again. 

The nickname had sirens going off in his head, leaving him wondering if this was even real. Did he seriously have you back again? He did. 

And he would love you forever, always waiting for you.

Round and round.

Satellite.


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2 years ago

all too well - l.h & p.g

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summary: in which an angry pierre stuffs his relationship up and desperately tries to make it up to his devoted girlfriend. and while trying to make up for it he realizes that he’s already lost her to a certain british man. loosely based on ‘all to well’ by taylor swift. 

warnings: A N G S T, I REPEAT, A N G S T, profanity, drinking, just sadness, toxicity, anger, crying, screaming, pining?? if unhealthy relationships/toxic relationships hurt you or offend you, 2022 british grand prix (ifykyk), mentions of eating disorders and body dysmorphia and shitty mental health

word count: 2.0k

pairing: lewis hamilton x female reader, asshole!pierre gasly x female reader, platonic!f1 drivers x female reader, platonic!wags x female reader

requested: yes! here! highly recommend listening to all too well.

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It was horrible. 

You had been sitting with the engineers during the Grand Prix, cheering your boyfriend Pierre on as you watched on. You felt as if the world stopped when him and Yuki spun off in unison. You could feel the world stop around you as you silently prayed they were okay. 

Collective groans of disappointment and shouts of anger broke out around you as you quickly flicked on the switch in front of you, allowing you to speak to your Pierre. “Pierre! Honey please, say something!” But you didn’t, just Yuki’s outburst of anger.

“Here.” Pierre replied as you let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding. You sunk into your seat as you held your head in your hands, shielding your face from the Netflix cameras which no doubt wanted your reaction for a dramatic made-up plot line for the next season of Drive to Survive. 

It wasn’t long after before Pierre angrily walked through the Garage, frustration radiating from him as he weighed himself before stomping off. You followed him to his drivers room before shutting the door. Before you could turn around he stuffed his face into your neck as he broke out in sobs. 

“Shh, I know. Pierre baby I know, it's okay.” You spoke as your hands combed through his tangled hair. “Y/n. Always me? All the bad things, me. What did I do to deserve it?” The French-man cried as you felt yourself begin to cry too. “It’s not you love. You know it was Yuki’s fault. He’ll own up to it, I know he will. You’re amazing okay don’t beat yourself up over this. It was absolutely out of your hands. You know that. You did your best.”

“It is! But that doesn’t make up for my shitty season! I don’t deserve this.” He shouted. “Pierre, not here. Don’t get angry here. The media will eat it up, let’s go home. Fuck the interviews. I’ll make you feel better okay? Whatever you want, we’ll do it mon chéri.” 

“Fuck the media! Fuck you! Fucking isn’t going to make up for me missing out this race okay? You can’t make me feel better with food or cuddling Y/n.” 

“That’s not what I’m saying Pierre! Please let’s get out of here, please, please.” 

“This is my fucking job. I can’t just leave because I’m mad. I’m not a model who sells photos of my self for money okay? My job isn’t easy like yours.” 

You scoffed, “Easy? Easy? My job isn’t just sitting around looking pretty. Shit goes on behind the scenes that you have no idea about. Bitchy models, photographers judging you all day, every day, tabloids and media making up  the most absurd rumours up and everyone eating them up, shitty mental health, body image issues, starving yourself to fit in a dress! Just because you sit in a car, racing at 200 kilometres an hour and have a dangerous job doesn’t make my job any less than yours!” 

“Mon amour-”

“No! I’m sick of this! You taking your shitty results out on me when I have nothing to do with it! You are driving the car, not me. Your fans attacking and picking apart our relationship and you letting them. You never defend me when interviewers ask the most foul questions about me. ‘Is she good in bed?’ are you kidding me?! ‘Oh you have no idea.’ And then laughing it off. Travelling the world and never getting out, constantly on the move. It’s so draining. Cancelling fucking Paris Fashion Week when I have never missed a year because you convinced me too. You. All you. I’ve missed out on huge movie and TV show deals, Bullet Train, Euphoria, No Way Home, Don’t fucking Worry Darling. Harry fucking Styles!” You shouted in his face as he sighed.

(Bare with me I know Paris FW is a few weeks before Bahrain)

“Then fucking go! God if I hold you back so much leave! I don’t fucking need you here, anywhere matter of fact. I don’t need you Y/n. I can get anyone I fucking want. Go to Harry Styles. Go to whoever you fucking want. Whine to them. They’ll never love you like I do. Fuck you like I do. You need me. But then again you. You need me, I don’t need you so fuck off. Get your shit and leave bitch.”

(foul, im so sorry 😭😭)

“Mate what are you doing!” Charles shouted as he burst through the door, followed by Charlotte, Isabel and Carlos. “Oh baby I’m so sorry.” Charlotte said softly as she and Isa wrapped you in a hug. You didn’t react. You didn’t even know what was happening. What pulled you out of your trance was the groaning of your boyfriend, well, ex now.

“What the fuck Charles?” Pierre yelled as Charles retracted his fist from his face.

Lewis ran in at the sound of yelling, Angela hot in his tail. “What the hell is going-” Lewis stopped dead in his tracks at the scene, Pierre soothing his right cheek, Charles with balled fists, Carlos pulling Charles away while Isa and Charlotte hugged you. You. 

You with your mascara stained face. You with your sobs and sniffles. 

It broke him. 

“My beautiful, beautiful Y/n.” He whispered as Isa and Charlotte slowly handed you off to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he kissed your forehead. As you stood in the hallway with him you felt, safe, loved. Which meant a lot since you hadn’t felt comfortable in a long time. 

You could feel the pain. The anger. The late nights worrying whether Pierre would come home or not. Trying to soothe him after bad races only to be met with a empty hotel room the second you took your eyes off of him. The rumours and the side eyes that floated around the grid when you walked hand in hand with him even after videos of him getting too handsy with some rando at a club surfaced and spiralled. Even your friends and family contacted you, your best friends Maddi and Sayda had reached out to see if you were okay.

‘Poor girl probably doesn’t even know.’

‘Why is she still with him? Oh god is she pregnant?’

‘She probably cheats too, you know how models are.’

But none of that mattered, as long as you were with Lewis. “Come on let’s get you cleaned up.” Charlotte said as she linked her arm with yours, “Don’t waste your tears on him sweetheart.” Isa whispered as she moved your hair out of your face.

“What the fuck is he doing with my girlfriend?” Pierre yelled at Carlos as he pointed at Lewis. 

“She is not and will never be your girlfriend again. You’re disgusting. It’s one thing to be angry and accidentally yell. But calling one of the most gorgeous, intelligent women on this Earth a bitch? Fucking despicable. She’s always been there for you, patient. When literal video proof came out of you cheating she didn’t blow up on you, start posting about you, start attacking you. No. Because she’s too kind for that and you took advantage of it and her. Y/n came straight to you for an explanation. And she told me your explanation, it was quite literally the worst fucking lie I’ve ever heard. ‘She thought I was her boyfriend.’ and ‘I thought it was you.’ Are you fucking kidding me man? You knew she wasn’t even in the country, she was on a plane, flying to your race after cutting a photoshoot with fucking Victoria’s Secret to come support you. You ruined her. You took away her opportunities because of your own selfishness. You will never find someone like her again. You fucked up. And I hope you kick yourself when you realize what you lost. Who you lost. Y/n is a thousand times more deserving of a man. Not a boy, someone who can’t even respect his own girlfriends career.”

Pierre stood there as Lewis walked away. If he stayed there any longer, looking at his idiotic face, god he would’ve swung.

But that was all in the past. 

Months ago. Seven to be exact.

And now?

Now you were making your way down the runway, in a stunning Donatella Versace dress in front of thousands. The crowd was roaring, cheering the models on as you all displayed the clothing. Your face dead straight. 

That was one of the things you praised yourself on. So did the media. You were known to never ever break face when on the runway. Always professional and well handled. But it was bound to happen. Your four year streak broken. 

As you made your way to the end of the runway your eye caught on to a certain braided hair man, who was hard to miss with his bright pink outfit. And god did he look amazing. As you looked at him he smiled, blowing a kiss. 

Your eyes crinkled as your lips turned upwards. Blowing a kiss back.

The media ate it up.

‘Y/n Y/l/n finally broke face on the runway, the reason? Seven time world champion Lewis Hamilton! Seems the model has moved on from her breakup with Lewis’ colleague and fellow racer Pierre Gasly.’

‘Lewis Hamilton culprit of the wide smile plastered on Y/n Y/l/n’s face during the Versace launch.’

‘Lewis Hamilton and Y/n Y/l/n share their relationship to the public!’

And Lewis could not be more proud of himself when he walked into the paddock, his hand entangled with yours. He was happy to show you off, respectfully of course. But Lewis wasn’t always kind, sometimes mischievous. 

So when he saw the idiot that was Pierre Gasly, jaw dropped and eyes threatening to hop out of his head at the sight in front of him while seated at the Alpha Tauri hospitality whilst having lunch with Yuki he decided to have some fun.

Taking your hand and spinning you in towards him, shortly before kissing you.

“That little fucker.” Pierre swore as he ogled you. “That’s what you get when you fuck up, badly.” Daniel snickered as he walked past, towards the two of you. “Danny!” You smiled as you engulfed him in a warm hug. 

“Missed me a bit too much Y/n/n.” Daniel smirked, “Lewis you better hold on to her tight, might just sweep her off her feet.” The McLaren driver joked as your boyfriend shook his head. “Seven months too late, I’ve been swept for as long as I can remember.” You grinned as you looked up at Lewis.

“You’re in love I get it.” Daniel laughed, “I’ll see you on the panel Lewis. See you tonight, my hotel room.” He joked towards you as he walked towards the conference hall, but not before winking your way. 

“Shit I have to go. If he comes anywhere near-” 

“I’ll be fine Lew, I promise. I have a guard dog in the form of Charles Leclerc ready to bite.” You smiled as you kissed him again. “Hey I do not bite!” Charles frowned as him and Carlos waited for you. 

“Sure thing Charles. Remember when you lost in uno to Lando-” Carlos smirked as Charles yelled, “Hey!” 

Lewis kissed your head, “Why would we ever think of having kids when we have those two assholes in red?”  “Rude.” Carlos stated as he and Charles crossed their arms in defense. “I’ll see you later my love.” He spoke before walking away. 

“Stop rustling his hair Carlos.” You scolded, “It’s not my fault he’s so short.” Charles scoffed, “Actually I am 180 cm, 5′9 thank you.” He spoke proudly as Sainz let out a laugh, “Mate, I’m 179.” The two of you chuckled and made your way to the Ferrari hospitality as the Monegasque tried to defend his height.

As you passed Alpha Tauri your eyes wandered and saw him. 

And you smiled as did he. But it didn’t mean you were over everything.

You remembered it.

All Too Well.


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2 years ago

Please please please begging can we get some max thank you ❤️❤️

definitely coming your way 👀

(its gonna be based off 'matilda' by harry styles so i think you can tell how depressing its gonna be <3

JOKES ON YOU

its probably gonna be cheating or something since im in a bad mood 😭

2 years ago

Hi! You don't have to post this, but I just wanted to let you know thay you wrote Carlos in the header of the most recent au you posted! The post was really cute btw!!

oh my god thanks for telling me haha carlos was on my mind after watching old carlando vids 😭


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3 years ago

I Got You [andrew!peter parker]

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requested (anon)

pairings: Andrew!Peter Parker x Reader

warnings: fluff, harmless following <3

an: italics = peters thoughts

REQUESTS ARE OPEN I WRITE FOR ANYTHING :) 

NO SPOILERS AT ALL FOR NWH (SET IN TASM)

As she walked down the busy streets with her friend, Gwen, Y/n failed to notice the spandex wearing, spider-web slinging hero following her from above. “I totally didn’t notice Gwen! Thank you oh thank you for opening my eyes.” She giggled as her friend pulled a “shocked” face. “Well if it wasn’t for me he would’ve never given you his number! Your welcome, Your Highness Y/n.” Gwen spoke as she nudged Y/n’s arm. 

Number? Who’s number? Why are you taking other guys’ number?

“Oh whatever Gwen.” Y/n giggled, “This is my stop, Y/n/n.” Gwen said, “You’re sleeping over tonight, right?” Y/n nodded, “But I have to go do file a few things at Oscorp, I’ll be back by 3.” Gwen got up to her doorstep and looked back, “Good to know, I’ll see you later!” Y/n waved as she walked away smiling.

God she look’s pretty.

Y/n walked a few minutes before attempting to cross the road. Key word, attempting. As she walked across looking down at the pavement as usual with her headphones in she missed the huge OSCORP labelled truck barrelling down the road towards her. C’mon Y/n look around! Peter said as he sprung into action.

“I got you!” He shouted,  as he swung down and scooped Y/n up by her waist, “Ah!” She screamed as she grabbed onto the nearest solid thing, Peter. As they effortlessly swung through the air, Peter couldn’t help but smile under his mask, he was so close to his crush. Y/n’s excited squeals filled Peter’s ears as they continued to swing around NYC until landing on top of a tall building.

“Oh my god!” Y/n spoke as she tried not to have her heart explode out of her chest as adrenaline pumped through her. “That- you.” Y/n stumbled over her words as she tried to catch her breath, “You saved me! Thank you so much.” She spoke with a smile on her face. “Uh no problem!” Spider-Man spoke as he tried to alter his voice. 

As Y/n looked up her eyes dilated at the sight of the man in front of her. “You’re, holy shit, you’re Spider-Man!” She gushed as Peter awkwardly stood trying to contain himself. “Yeah! I am! I mean uh-uhm, yeah. You should really start looking left and right Y/n.” Peter explained to the teen, “How do you know my name?” She enquired, “Well I was swinging in the neighbour-hood when someone said your name, next thing I knew you’re in-front of a truck.”

Great save idiot. Couldn’t have just pointed to her name tag?

Y/n’s shirt had an Oscorp name tag on the right. “And uh you have a name tag.” Peter explained to her. “Oh yeah! That makes sense, well uh thanks for the save down there and I’m late! Damn it.” Y/n sighed, “I can take you there, or y’know swing you there.” He said as he slowly stepped closer, “You’d be a life saver thanks.” She gushed as she stepped closer, Peter wrapped his arm around her waist as Y/n placed a hand on his chest and another around his back, locking herself in.

Spider-Man extended his arm which shot out a web and they were off! Left and right they dodged buildings as people shouted, “Spider-Man! It’s Spider-Man! Holy shit Spider-Man! He probably saved her! We love you!” Their time was cut short as they reached the Oscorp building, “Here we are.” Y/n smiled, “Thank you so much, for y’know. I gotta go but it was great meeting you!” 

“Y/n!” A co-worker of hers shouted at her, “C’mon! It’s Harry’s birthday!” The woman shouted at her, “Gotta run bye! Nice to meet you!” 

Peter sighed, “Nice to meet you too.”


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