At The Age Of 10 I Started My Love Of Books Due To Harry Potter And I Think I Got It From My Mother Who

Only Child

Nobody talks about the only child.

The child that is assumed to be spoiled

The child is assumed to be loved by their parents.

Yes, there is no lie that sometimes you are spoiled and you are loved.

Yet you are carrying the weight of an eldest and youngest child.

That you must not speak against them so the house you live in could be liveable and bearable

That you are the punching bag for their anger and stress that they cannot communicate with others or each other.

That you carry the trauma that they have passed on to you from their childhood.

You try to be strong but sometimes you just want to curl up and let someone carry the weight

DEAR READER | C.L 16 (TWO)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc X Female OC

Warnings: Physical injury (that’s it, i think)

NOTES: I’m on fire for updating so quickly !!!

If you want to be included on the tag list, please let me know!

PREVIOUS PART/S: ONE

THE BRIGHTNESS OF HER phone burned her irises. Without regard, she swiped her thumb up the screen to read more of the incessant article Charles had shown her. Her forehead creased at the words written but the smirk pulling on her lips said otherwise. Ridicule from the public was nothing new to her. She had been experiencing it since she was caught driving one of Susie’s cars by a tourist in Monaco.

To Natalia’s outmost dismay, the photo spread like a virus. Next thing she knew, countless of rumors were surrounding the internet. It was indeed a difficult time for a collage student like her. Locking herself in her dorm room was not an exaggeration considering the whispers and looks she’d receive when she would walk down the hall.

For a solid 2 weeks, people saw her as, and she recalls this with a nauseating feeling; Toto Wolff’s side piece.

Ultimately it died down after she had given in to Toto’s demands to let him put out a statement. Since then, the issue had been resolved, much to her delight.

“Are you planning to cook your eyes?”

She waved her hand, signaling for him to keep his eyes on the road. The pitch black atmosphere with nothing but the headlights guiding their way reminded Natalia of a horror game. As if lanky creature were to appear in from of their vehicle and cause a deathly accident. Without the light of her device, her heart would probably be thumping loudly in her chest.

“Scramble them, actually . . .” She replied.

The driver ignored her sarcasm, opting to put on music.

“You can go to sleep, you know.” Charles looked at her, rolling his eyes as he saw the concentration on her face. “I knew I shouldn’t have shown you that. . .”

Natalia shook her head, a hand cupping her mouth as her shoulder rumble with mirth. “It’s just— It surprises me, how in the world is it possible to sound so idiotic each time?” Her voice was a bit isolated from the barrier of her hand, glancing at Charles. “They never miss, to be honest. . .”

He hummed, tucking his lips in behind his lips, amusement also lifting up his energy.

“I mean, look at this, apparently you’re asking for Toto’s blessing to ask for my hand in marriage!” She fell into a series of hysterics, losing her chain of self control. Saying it out loud was far more ludicrous than she had thought.

Charles also seem to think the same as he allowed himself to laugh with her, mouth splitting into a wide grin. He had expected a reaction from the people. Natalia and him shared the burden of being constantly linked to the every opposite gendered person they interact with regardless of the settings and the other people present.

Natalia’s laughter about the article imminently faded, leaving the soft roars of the engine and the cold whispers of the air conditioning to fill the silence.

After a moment, Charles stole a glance at Natalia, eyes immediately returning forward as he found that he was already looking at him.

Natalia blocked the unattractive snort threatening to turn into laughter at Charles’ quick head turn. She could’ve sworn he had a whiplash.

“What?”

She raised her brows at his bothered tone, choosing to lean more into his side. “I’m just looking at you. What’s wrong with that?”

Charles’ fingers that gripped wheel tightened as her taunting tone filled his ears. “I didn’t say anything was wrong with it—”

“It sounded like you have a problem with it, though.” Natalia interjected, easing her temple on the headrest.

Besides her taunting attitude, the fact that she refused to quit staring at him brought a flaming annoyance to his mind.

Charles heaved a sigh, tapping his fingers on the leather cover of his wheel. His focused returned fully on the road, trying to block out the intense mahogany orbs that were intently seeking for his demise.

“Do you wanna play a game?”

No, Charles wanted earplugs. Or better yet, a gigantic headset that had the volume of a million megaphones.

But of course, a fight was not on his list of tonight. He bobbed his head, sending her the inquiry, “What are we playing?”

“20 questions, truth or dare . . .” Natalia pursed her lips in thought, shifting her gaze to the roof of the car as if she’d find more written there. “I was going to say I spy, but there’s nothing to see. So— you pick,”

Charles mulled over the usual car games before picking the one he think he’d get the most out of.

“20 question, then.” He glared at Natalia as she snorted at his answer.

“Typical,”

“You made me choose—”

“Yeah— yeah, alright. Calm down, damn.” Natalia wheeled her eyes, pleating her arms together. “You go first, since you picked.”

“Alright,” Charles clicked his tongue, drumming his fingers on the shift stick. “Did you have a pet growing up?”

Natalia casted a sidelong glance at him, mouth parting a few times before she finally realized he was serious. “That’s so lame!” She laughed, whacking him in the shoulder.

The Monegasque’s head tilted in puzzlement to which Natalia replied, “Ask more personal questions. If I was gonna ask you what your favorite color was, I wouldn’t even bother.”

Charles face sagged at her statement, mocking her by making faces. “Okay—” He narrowed his eyes as he racked his brain for a satisfying question. After a moment, he finally found one.

“Do you plan on going back to the Philippines after you graduate?”

All the active expressions fell from her face at the question, a stiffening dread constricting her word as she tried to form a coherent response.

“I haven’t thought about it—” The coiling vice in her tongue gripped at her vocabulary. “Most likely. . . If my passport is uh. . . yeah, then I think. . .” She clamped her mouth shut, noticing her excessive babbling.

“A yes or no would’ve been fine,” Charles murmured.

Natalia scoffed, running her fingers through her hair, hoping to banish the tremors forming in her nerves. “It’s something I only think about when I’m drunk,”

Charles nodded, not expecting that but her tone was enough indication not to pry any further.

In spite of knowing Natalia for almost a year now, Charles had had realized how little they knew about each other. Not to say that he was actually keen on getting to know her. However as circumstances have shifted rapidly in the last few hours, they might have to expand their knowledge about one another.

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Crickets. Much like the ones cartoons put over the background to serve as a comedic effect to characters who had heard something that the other seem to find hilarious.

In real life, however, the crickets were not funny in any way as Natalia’s jaw nearly banged on the floor, contradictory to Fred Vasseur’s ever-delighted face. If only she had the bone to tell that sweet-looking man that she’d rather eat the concrete than—

“Excuse me,” She said, palms starting to sweat as she peered at Fred. “I thought this was for journalism. . . training? No?”

“Oh, yes! Certainly, but Toto told us you were also interested in social media management,” He looked at her expectantly.

Despite his unwavering smile, the gentle touch on Natalia’s arm scorched in overpowering puzzlement. Every single word had been silenced except the ones; Toto and social media management.

“Well yes, but— not Charles’. . .”

She cowered away as Fred raised a question brow at her direction but slowly modified into a comforting grin. “Not to worry, there would be someone guiding you through it,”

Fred landed soft taps on Natalia’s shoulder, which she thought were supposed to be a symbol of reassurance. It proved to have done little, as the electrifying anxiety continued excruciating hike at her sanity.

Disregarding the supposed heat of the sun raying on her skin, the circulation of the chilly axis running down her body seemed to overthrow the rising temperature of the Italian summer.

“With the break ending soon and the start of the Belgian race, we thought it would be wise to have a ‘Gen Z’ handle Charles social media image. . .”

Natalia whirled around at the presences of the new voice.

A dark haired man, sporting an outgrown buzz cut sauntered behind her. He had a blue stripped dress shirt neatly tucked into his black slacks. His shoes shone despite looking like he had been running around for most of the day.

“Hello,” He lengthened his arm towards Natalia, who received his hand in a friendly shake. “I’m Nicolas Todt, Charles’ Manager. Nice to meet you, Ms. Valle,”

Natalia screwed her face up mentally at the formal address of her name. “It’s nice to meet you too. Natalia’s fine,” she thinned her lips as he merely nodded at her.

Just perfect, she thought, as she mustered a small smile.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════

According to Nicolas, due to the increasing number of young fans, it was best to market Charles’ presence to fit their crowd. Given that Natalia’s part of the tech-savy generation, she had ample knowledge of the newest trends and sensations.

While that was true, Natalia could not believe the enjoyment she was getting from this job. With just a week in, she had gotten to witness Charles take an obscene amount of pictures while she aided with the angles and poses that might interest his fans.

What’s not very enjoyable though, was directing a bunch of rowdy boys for a photo op on a yacht. Their voices subdued the authority in Natalia’s instructions, ultimately forcing her to stand on a stool to capture their attention.

Annoyance painted her face, putting her hands together near her mouth to create a louder echo.

“HEY!”

Effectively, their boisterous behavior came to a halt, heads collectively whirling around to where she was. Natalia glowered at them, pinching her eyebrows with her fingers.

“Did you even hear what I said?” Eyes narrowed, she glared at them.

Whipping their heads around as if they’d find the answer stuck on teh each others foreheads was enough for Natalia.

Charles sat back, watching as pure frustration consumed Natalia whole. He raised a hand to beckon his friends.

“Alright, that’s enough guys. Let’s take the picture. . .” He met Natalia’s pointed gaze as the lot of them obeyed his command to approach him. “Sorry, can you repeat that?”

As if I have a choice, her leering glare didn’t desolate, but her features softened at the quiet surroundings.

She took a deep breath, gesturing at the pontoon boat seat for them to take a seat. Once half of them were all aligned in a row, the other half stood behind the yacht seat. She tilted her head, shaking it in disapproval.

“You— and you—” She motioned at the two tallest men sat on the coach. “Please switch with them.” The men called out looked behind them to see who she was pointing at.

A satisfied grin drew on her lips as the men shuffled their places, gaining the perfect proportions Natalia had envisioned.

“Right, then!” Her voice blarred through the quiet atmosphere of Monaco, receiving amused glances from Charles and his friends at her change of mood. “You look like 1D’s frat boy era,”

The comment visibly went over their heads, gawking at her with confusion. Unwavering, Natalia simply waved them off, keeping the reference to herself.

It took her awhile to digest that American pop culture doesn’t transcend here in this country as much as it did in the Philippines. When she first came here, she was a bit sad that none of her four other college roommates were fans of Taylor Swift. Granted, not everyone has to be one. However, after scouting through the campus, the amount Swifties were barely a fourth of the school.

That being said, their unfamiliarity with her vocabulary was no longer a surprise. Also, they were men.

She watched as Antoine Truchet, Charles’ photographer, paced around the yacht, a camera clutched on his hand, searching for the best lighting. Her eyes then slid to the occupants of the sofa, automatically angling her head to get a better view of Charles. He sat at the center, thighs spread with a smug smirk toying at his lips.

Natalia felt a tug at her chest as a mirthful laugh escaped his lips at how Antoine was struggling at his now awkward position. The loud splash of the waves beside their boat was astronomically awakening, as though the cold grip of the waves had slapped her in the face.

She willed her unbelievably awful thoughts into something more appropriate, finding comfort at the part of her brain which appreciated the beauty of Monaco— not the Monegasque—

She gritted her teeth, wanting to combust into a tiny million particles. Biting her lips, she suppressed a scream as the urge to pull her hair out flooded her thoughts.

She was working, for god’s sake. Ogling at a sun-kissed, unruly haired man with a conventionally white shirt unbuttoned halfway was extremely unprofessional.

The camera loves that man’s face, that’s for sure.

There was nothing attractive by the way the last rays of the sun caressed his skin. Nothing special at the immaculate glow it created that made him look like a heaven-sent blessing— not even when he stares at her like that— he’s staring at her.

Panic engulfs her lungs, causing her shifting feet to slip on the matted steps of her stool. Her heart felt like it fell with her body, a clamorous bang resounding through the air the impact.

A agonized groan emitted from Natalia’s mouth as she landed on her arm. She heard a series of movements, coming closer to her. Soon, the brilliant view of the sky was replaces by different faces, worry sketched out in their features as she clutched her injured arm with her hand.

“Joris, appelle un médecin,” The calm voice amongst the chattering crowd tickled her ears, heart pounding at the same hands that slid themselves beneath her waist. She was carefully turned to the left, similar to a figurine that could shatter with one wrong move.

What was médecin, again? Medicine? Or is medic?

This was one of the times Natalia hates not being fluent in his native language. Withering in excruciating pain and having to rummage through her awful French lingo wasn’t a pleasant combination.

His eyes appeared in her vision, one flooding with an unexplainable expression. It was the first time she’d seen them this close. Resembling the calm of the ocean, gracefully soaring up to the skies, as if he took the ravishing sight of spring on claimed it as his own. His green eyes swam with a remarkable dose of electrifying energy, it’s almost appalling how much enchantment it held.

At her trace, his lips moved without sound until his calloused finger were introduced to the searing heat of her face. His digits gripped her cheeks, squeezing the supple skin to get her attention.

Charles released as sigh of relief as her unfocused eyes returned to normal. “It’s alright, just breath yes?” He whispered, getting ready to move her. “I’m going to put you on the coach, okay?”

The subtle nod was all he needed before he proceeded to lend strength to the arm under her, supporting her weight as he lifted her body onto the cushions of the seat.

Soft distressed ‘sorry’s’ escape his mouth as Natalia whimpered, shutting her eyes tightly at the sudden pressure on her side.

Another person took over Charles’ place on her side, who she believed to be the medical assistant they had summoned.

Maybe if it weren’t for the adrenaline coursing in her veins and the soothing touch of a certain someone, she would’ve been screaming from the pain.

As black spots started popping into her vision, the embarrassment what happened plagued her mind.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════

In the yacht’s cabin, Natalia sat comfortably on a king sized bed, head leaning against the small window of the yacht with her legs crossed. She watched as the small waves did their repetitive dance, lulling the boat into a cadence sway.

Susie had called her as soon as she heard the news, scrambling to get as much details about her condition in a panicked state. Natalia instantly felt terrible for causing such trouble, quickly brushing away the apprehension in Susie’s mind and substituting it with consolation.

She seemed to calm down when Charles took the phone, explaining to her. “Yes, Ms. Wolff. There is no problem—” From his back towards Natalia, he twisted his head to catch her gaze from where she was sat. The brunette girl fidgeted with the sleeve of her sweater, careful not to agitate the muscles in her arm.

Charles wasn’t at all religious by any means, but he found himself thanking Natalia’s angels for not allowing her to break a bone in her body. Thankfully, all she got was a minor sprain which would be cured by pain medication and bed rest.

“Yes, Ma’am. Will do,” He nodded at Susie’s list of requests, striding to his jittery company. He dipped his head, a an arm anchoring his weight as he placed himself beside her. His thumb brushing against Natalia’s cheek. Without thinking, he stroked his finger on the skin, lightly pressing, feeling a rushing comfort at the touch.

Natalia, however, was gawking at him, beginning to rack her brain as to what the hell was happening. But he couldn’t comprehend anything as she drowned beneath his intense gaze and the intoxicating contact of his narcotic hands.

She overlooked the fact that he had ended the call, until his face was inches from her own, breath fanning on her flushed skin. Blood rushed rapidly onto her veins at their ridiculously close proximity. She noticed that at this distance, his eyes looked more like a blown out galactic dream.

They were near enough that if one of them were to lean forward—

The creak of the door awkened them from the hypnotic depths of their minds, scrambling away from each other darting to the opposite sides of the room.

“How’s it—”

Jorris stopped, looking at Charles who had a hand on his neck, scratching an area that appeared to itch a lot. He moved his observance to Natalia. She was facing away from Charles, eyes raking down at the furniture at the right side of the room, seeming to find it rather interesting.

“Are you okay?” His accented voice, dropped the question.

The occupants of the cabin then, looked at him, like a pair of deers caught in headlights. They both blinked back at him, offering no helpful response.

He raised his hands in defeat, turning back to walk out. “Fine, no one wants to talk to Jorris . . .” He muttered, after exiting the realm of the gaping fishes.

When he left, Natalia and Charles kept glacing at each other before Natalia had the strength to let a word out.

“You should probably. . .” She imitated a shooing motion over the door.

Charles nodded, understanding her order. “If— If you need anything— I’ll be—” He used his thumb as a pointer, indicating the spot where he’ll be staying, stumbling upon his word.

“Go, Charles—” Natalia sighed, running a hand through her face to hide the betraying expression that threatened to expose her disturbing feelings.

“I am going. . .” He hastily zapped out of the room but not before turning back, only to be greeted by Natalia’s deadly stare. He took that as the last warning, slamming the door shut in the process.

At the wake of the silence, Natalia whacked her head on the wall, which was unfortunately covered with a cushioned headboard that protected her skull from shattering into a million pieces.

Reaching for the pillow in front of her, she drew it near her chin, digging her face on top of the soft surface before screaming her lungs out.

Her fingers clutched the covering of the pillow, shoving her face deeper, hoping it would drown out the noise that spilled out of her mouth as agitation devoured her entire being.

Outside her door, stood a figure with his arms crossed, slightly leaning on the door. A knowing smile weaved his lips at the entertaining series of events before walking away to join Charles and their mates.

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Tags: @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos

if you’re like me and you only watch f1 for free, here are some free sites you can watch it live at:

sportshub.stream - this is my personal favorite

totalsportek.pro

sportsurge.club

thehomesport.net

weakstream.org

there are also free apps you can watch it in:

Live player

strym tv - you need a code to watch in this app so you just press the + sign on the upper left corner, choose “Import playlist from URL” and paste this url http: //movitv. pro just remove the spaces

all of these have ads and if you have access to VPN, you might want to use it but i’ve tried all these links and app last season and hadn’t gotten a virus.

photograph || op81

summary: after receiving an old photo album from your mom you take a bittersweet journey through memories of your childhood best friend, oscar piastri.

pairing: op81 x childhood bestfriend!reader

warnings: heavy on the angst. unresolved feelings

word count: 2,155

a/n: first ever fully written fic 🥹 this is also definitely inspired by the song photograph by nickelback what can i say

masterlist

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ⠀

with a big sigh you pulled the old photo album from the envelope your mom had mailed. she’d been tidying up the house back in melbourne and insisted you take it claiming that it belonged with you. and so there it was resting on your coffee table. the cover was still plastered with stickers and the words y/n's favorite book scrawled across it in glitter glue, a relic of your younger self. you ran your fingers over the worn surface, took a deep breath and opened it. the first page hit you like a truck bringing back an overwhelming amount of emotions. it was a full-page photo of you and oscar on your very first joint podium at 10 years old with the biggest smiles you could have mustered.

✿

you remembered the first time you saw him on track. he was barely tall enough to see over the steering wheel but the way he drove it, like the world around him didn’t exist, made you certain that something special was happening. you two were of similar ages but even then you knew that kid with the messy brown hair and the most determined look in his eyes was destined for something bigger than the little karting track in melbourne and the classrooms you two found yourselves in.

your weekends were spent racing, laughing, and sharing the kind of friendship that only childhood can provide. oscar was your closest friend but there was always something else, something unspoken, that lingered between you. it wasn’t obvious at first, not in the way he smiled at you after winning a race or how you’d both hang out afterward joking about everything and nothing.

but there was something about the way he looked at you in those quiet moments when your gazes met, that made your heart flutter in a way that had nothing to do with the thrill of racing. you would never admit it to him though because he was your best friend and someone you couldn't bear the thought of ever losing no matter how much it hurt to see him with other girls at school.

✿

shaking your head with a small smile, you turned to the next page of the photo album. this one was filled with pictures of you and oscar at your very first f1 grand prix together. tucked neatly beside the photos was the physical ticket from that day and a small picture you had painted that you had signed by your favorite driver at the time. it was a weekend you'd never forget.

✿

“you’re going to make it to f1 and race here one day,” you had told oscar as you two sat side by side watching the cars zip around albert park.

he smile that crooked smile of his and said something like "nah, I'm just racing to beat you silly girl!"

✿

the next page in the photo album brought a wave of nostalgia. it was a collage of moments captured with your beloved little digital camera, the hot pink one you carried with you everywhere back then like a secret sidekick. the photos were a mix of everything that had made that you happy at the time: snapshots of you and oscar grinning wide outside the track, arms slung around each other, sunburnt and buzzing with excitement; blurry, magical pictures of the night sky, stars peeking through the soft glow of city lights; and tucked between them, tiny doodles you’d sketched later of race cars, your helmet design ideas, and little icons of everything that had made you fall in love with racing in the first place.

✿

sometimes, late at night after a race, you and oscar would sit side by side in the grass behind the track. the night air would be cool, the stars barely visible through the lights and he’d talk about his dreams, about f1 and you’d listen, trying not to think about what it would all mean for your friendship.

you were only just kids and you had more time ahead of you or so you thought because the day he hold you he was leaving came sooner than you would've hoped.

✿

you flipped to the next page in the album which held your and oscar’s final last day of school photos that were taken just a few short weeks before he had left. you were on the front porch of the piastri family house in your favorite dress with your hair braided neatly back and oscar stood beside you in his usual school polo, his hair slightly messy, and wearing that same goofy grin he still hasn’t grown out of. you couldn't help but envy the way your eyes sparkled in the photo.

✿

you were sitting in your final class of the day before break - only half listening as the teacher rambled on about everything you'd have to complete while on holiday. you willed the time to go by and snuck glances at oscar who was sitting next to you. when the bell finally rang and you skipped out of the classroom excited for break, you noticed that oscar hung behind. you turned to face him and were met with a rather sad looking oscar, something you hadn't really seen before much less on the last day of classes.

“i have to leave,” he said, the words so simple yet terrifying. he was fumbling with the zipper on his backpack as he refused to make eye contact with you.

your heart dropped into your stomach. "wait.. oscar what in the world are you talking about? you mean leave class?" you asked quickly.

oscar finally looked at you now, his expression a little too serious for comfort. “i’m going to boarding school..... in england so that i can focus on my racing.” his voice was barely a whisper.

it took you a moment to process what he was saying. this wasn’t just about leaving class or even leaving your karting team behind.... this was him leaving everything including you.

“you..... you cant be leaving already? but… what about karting? what about your family? what about me?” you squeaked out as tears began falling down your cheeks.

“i have to do this, y/n/n,” he explained. “you know I have to. this is the next step for me y/n/n just like we've always talked about!! i want to make it to f1 and this.... and this is the way i do that.”

your chest tightened. you wanted to tell him to stay. in fact, you wanted to beg him to stay on your hands and knees but you couldn’t. he was chasing his dream and you knew that but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

✿

you wiped away a tear as the memory of that day replayed in your head. it felt like a piece of you had climbed onto that plane to england with him and no matter how hard you tried you were never quite able to find that piece again.

✿

when you said goodbye at the airport it was even harder than you expected. he stood there with his backpack, his eyes damp and his hair dishevelled. he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye either.

“i’ll be back,” he promised. “i’ll visit, and we can race again together, yeah?”

you nodded, though you didn’t know if you ever would because you were staying here and he was moving on without you.

the months that followed felt like years until they began to actually turn into them. he was gone and living a life you couldn't even begin to imagine. you’d send occasional messages, have brief update sessions but it was never the same. you wanted to be happy for him and part of you was but you missed him terribly. and it wasn’t just the friendship that you missed. it was the little moments like the endless laughter, the late night ice cream runs, and the way he made everything feel right even when a race or a maths test hadn't gone your way.

✿

the last page in your album held a photo of you and oscar at the final race of his you’d ever attended. it was not long after your birthday when nicole had insisted you come with her and hattie to watch one of his formula 3 races. you hadn’t seen him race in person since the karting days and truthfully you hadn’t really seen him much at all since then either.

after a lot of convincing you finally agreed to tag along. and it was there, standing at the edge of the track, that it hit you.. the boy you had grown up with wasn’t the same person anymore and you hardly even knew who that person was.

that day was the last time you'd had seen oscar.

wiping away more tears, you flipped back through the album looking through all the doodles, race tickets, school photos, and everything else in between. so many tiny pieces of your childhood was captured within these pages and so much of it included oscar.

you'd spent all these years thinking you were just missing your best friend. but now, looking back on it all, you knew the truth. you loved him and maybe you always had.

but he was gone now. not in a tragic way, just... in that way life sometimes pulls people apart. years had passed and the distance between who you were then and who you were now felt impossibly wide. you couldn’t call him up and tell him not after all this time. what would you even say?

so instead, you closed the album slowly, pressing your hand to the cover like it could hold everything in place.

you missed him and maybe you always would but that’s just how it had to be.

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ⠀

a/n: ahhhh if you made it this far tysm for reading!!!! let me know if you would like a part 2... maybe of y/n getting an invite to australia 2025??

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ⠀

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

Do you know anyone else who writes for the older drivers? Wanting to find new reading material

i know a few :/ but here’s a list of some works for the older drivers that i’ve been reading by some very talented people! i’ll try to keep this list updated :)

@norrisleclercf1 has some mafia works withh older drivers that are amazing!!

death of a bachelor series by @astonmartingf

the kids are going to be alright by ^

fernando alonso

complicated by @unsolvedjarin

sebastian vettel

about you series by @drvscarlett

history series by @vettelsvee

grid kids series by @pucksandpower

mrsvettelsgarden by @vivwritesfics

padawan learner by ^

the race that mattered by @lorarri

glory days by @uluvjay

a shared history by @lucyrose191

jenson button

do i wanna know? by @formulafics

tis the dilf season by @beiasluv

tell it to my heart by @lovelytsunoda

mile high club by @bellewintersroe

only way by @starlost97

sweet sugar by @natailiatulls07

something devoured by @agendabymooner

you can’t disappoint a picture by @angsthology

i’ll always want you by @vinvantae

promiscuous boy by @libraryofloveletters

corny by @unsolvedjarin

womaniser by @sv5hive

mark webber

early mornings by @loonylupinblack3

light by @maxillness

vacay by @sweeterlovers

a new term by @whorekneecentral

the problem with following orders by @agendabymooner

brand new by @embrosegraves

nico rosberg

lost in the moment by @mynicosensesaretingling

lewis hamilton

do you remember it all too well by @leclercsainzz

bedtime stories by @alwayschoppedtaco

kimi räikkönen

thawed by @pucksandpower

don’t beat yourself up by @faithshouseofchaos

3rd Part of the Digital Portfolio:

Mental Self

— EVANGELINE’S PAGE💌

୨ৎ ‘maybe some of us aren’t good at anything’

୨ৎ redbull, ferrari, and mclaren

୨ৎ I write, and then procrastinate, and then post, and then critically judge my ability to write

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ masterlist

Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar

my graphic designer friend help make this for me because I asked nicely ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

The Viscount Who Deceived Me - Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | ...

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem! Reader, Benedict Bridgerton x Fem! Reader

Warnings: none, I think

Word Count: 1.7K

a/n: I'm having a lot of fun writing this series!

You took a deep breath and stepped out of your carriage in front of the Cowper residence.

Closing your eyes and gathering strength, you straightened your shoulders and released all the pent up air in your chest.

"Are you alright, my dear?" your mama asked, taking your arm in hers.

You gave her your best smile, that still turned out small, and answered "I'm perfectly fine."

She didn't believe you, but nonetheless nodded. You both walked around the house and greeted people you knew on the way to the gardens.

Candles were lit, floral patterns were freshly painted on the grass, and everyone was dressed in varied tones of red, orange and black. The invitation had said it would be a blazing event and that the guests should dress in the hues of fire.

There was said to be a never before seen surprise to do with the theme at the end of the night, but many disapproved, thinking it was too provocative for a ball.

You had thought it might be fun and were very excited to see what this innovative surprise might be.

You abandoned your family greens for a burgundy dress that evening. Madame Delacroix had truly outdone herself with your dress this time. The light fabric along with your hanging sleeves made it look like your clothes were dancing with your every move.

"There are the Bridgertons." pointed your mama with a nod of her head.

Sure enough, you saw the whole family except for the little ones.

They spotted both of you as you made your way over. You smiled and curtsied politely, trying to avoid Anthony's gaze. He made it impossible when he took your hand in his and bowed to kiss it.

'Has he ever kissed her hand?' you wondered.

'Of course he has, he was already kissing her neck. He might have even kissed her lips.'

"How are you this evening?" he asked.

"Perfectly fine." you said, but your voice was too weak, pitch too high.

"Alright then, if that is all." Eloise took your arm in hers and started dragging you away "We will be on our way."

"Do not linger too far!" called out Violet, but the two of you were already gone.

You leaned closer to your friend and whispered "Thank you."

"You looked like you saw a ghost, I had you get you out." she answered, looking around.

You spotted Penelope in a corner grabbing a champagne flute from a passing servant and gestured to Eloise that you had found her.

"Ah."

The two of you walked towards her and she smiles when she spotted you.

"There you are! I was beginning to think I'd have to spend the rest of the night in the company of plants." she quipped.

"I wish I could have stayed home," huffed Eloise, crossing her arms and glaring at a gentleman who passed by looking at her "You know how much I despise these sordid events."

You chuckled and nudged her with your elbow "Are you not the least bit excited for this surprise they have planned?"

"I am excited to finish my book. I am excited to lay down in bed and sleep."

"What are you reading?" you asked, looking forward to the topic.

The three of you were the only women your age you knew that enjoyed reading. Most ladies of the ton found that improving your mind with extensive reading was not an accomplishment, but a waste of time.

'Men do not want a woman who has read Shakespeare, they want a wife who can entertain them with the pianoforte or their voice. Men want women who can embroider and paint, not someone to discuss politics with.' was what you had heard a gentleman saying while you were at the bookshop one time.

"Wuthering Heights." she answered excitedly.

"What is it about?" questioned Penelope before taking another sip of her champagne.

"Vengeance." she smiled.

"I am very much afraid of you sometimes." you said and Pen nodded.

"Thank you," she touched her heart "but, in all earnest, it is a very good book. The both of you should read it."

"Can I borrow your copy after I finish my current read?" smiled Pen.

"Of course, I shall drop it off as soon as I finish it. What are you reading now?"

"Pride and Prejudice." she said and you gasped.

"So am I!" you exclaimed excitedly, gaining a few disapproving looks from other guests.

"What do you think of Bingley? she asked with a smile and a slight flush to her cheeks.

"I think he reminds me a bit of Colin," you leaned closer to her ear "and you remind me a bit of Jane."

"Oh, hush." she chided, but her cheeks had turned crimson and she grinned "Do you really think so?"

"I do." you nodded and turned to Eloise "And you, my dear friend, are Elizabeth Bennet."

She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged the corner of her lips. "And who might you be?"

"Me?" you stopped for a second to consider your options "Well, I suppose I must be poor Mr Collins."

They both laughed and everything seemed so normal. When you were like this with your friends, it was like all your troubles faded away.

You did not have to marry the man who betrayed you, you did not have to worry about taking one step out of line with the fear of having to be wed to the oldest man you knew, you did not feel nauseous and anxious like you had the rest of the day. With Eloise and Penelope, you could just be.

That feeling of peace faded all too quickly when Anthony appeared in front of you and bowed "May I have your first dance?"

All colour drained from your face and you had to clear your throat before answering "You may."

He wrote his name on your dance card next to the first song. A quadrille.

At least you would not spend the whole dance with him.

He offered you his arm and you took it, giving your friends one last glance. They tried to smile encouragingly, but it looked more like they were grimacing.

You took a deep breath as you stepped into position. Four couples, including yourselves, stood in rectangular formation. You and Anthony on one side, a married couple to your right, Philippa Featherington and Finch to your left, and Benedict with Cressida Cowper in front of you.

Your shoulders were hunched, your muscles tense. Anthony's hand felt cold in yours and you remembered how it had touched the opera singer.

Benedict locked eyes with you and his gaze was warm. His eyebrows furrowed and he mouthed "are you alright?"

You forced a smile and nodded just as the song started. He didn't look like he believed you, but didn't say anything else.

The string quartet continued as you turned to Anthony and bowed to each other, you repeated the same with Finch. While the couples at your side met in the centre and danced around one another, switching partners then back, you stayed in place.

Benedict continued looking worriedly at you and you gave him a small smile.

Anthony interrupted your silent communication when he leaned close to your ear and whispered "I have to talk to you. About us."

"Are you sure this is the right time?" you asked and inwardly cursed him for bringing this up.

"This is the perfect time." he said before taking you to the centre of the group.

You briefly grasped both of Benedict's hands before passing by him and meeting with Anthony again. He held your left hand on his and his right held your waist. You stayed that way as you walked around the couples.

"Have you received the flowers?" he asked, a hopeful look on his face.

Anthony had sent you roses after you left the house that morning. Your mother had said it was romantic, you thought it was generic.

"I have." you answered, nodding curtly at Philippa.

'Does he even know that my favourite flowers are tulips?' you contemplated sadly. 'I was so blind to think he loved me.'

"Good, good. And are they to your liking?" he probed and you contained an annoyed sigh.

"They are perfectly fine." you stated, looking anywhere else but him as you stepped into your starting place again.

"I know that you have not forgiven me for what I have done." he whispered solemnly.

Your eyes burned and you stared at Cressida's hem, the couples on each side of you switched partners.

'I will not talk about this, I will not cry in public, I will not make cause a scandal.' you repeated the words over and over in your head.

When you said nothing, he continued "I do not expect you to forgive me, but I would be grateful if you would give me a chance to explain."

"There is nothing to explain." you spat then took a deep breath to calm yourself "I already know everything."

"But you do not." he insisted "You do not know the half of it."

You scoffed "If that was merely half, I do not wish to know the rest at all."

Stepping forward once again, Anthony and Benedict switched partners. One hand on your waist and the other holding yours, he leaned forward and his lips brushed against your ear, breath tickling your neck.

"Save your next dance for me?" he whispered and chills ran down your spine.

"Yes." you nodded as you switched brothers again.

"If you will not let me explain," he said, alternating his feet in front of him to the rhythm of the quartet's melody "at least let me say that I will no longer be seeing Siena."

"I truly do not care." you said between your teeth, attempting to hide your anger behind a smile "Do what you will, it does not matter to me. Not anymore."

Anthony pulled your body flush to his by the waist, searching eyes boring deeply into your soul.

"You hate me." he stated gravely.

"I do not hate you." you sighed.

"You do, I have wronged you and you have every right to hate me. What I do not understand is why you are choosing to marry a man you now despise."

Your voice was small and desperate when you answered "It is not a choice, Anthony."

The song ended and you untangled yourself from him. You curtsied and turned to walk as far away from a furrow-browed Anthony as possible.

a/n: guys!!!! I got so many requests for a part 3!! I hope you are all enjoying reading this series as much as I do writing it! (ps: this was my first time writing dialogue during a dance, so please tell me if it was bad or too confusing)

General Taglist: @crazy-beautiful @missryerye @flourishandblotts-inc

Bridgerton Tag List: @dancingwith-sunflowers @for-bebbanburg @navs-bhat @elishi03 @s-unflowxr @thebreadisthetruevillian @peakyweirdo @lucyysthings @freyathehuntress @rach2602 @czarinera

Series Tag List @snixx2088 @acourtofbooksandfantasy @alldaysdreamer @dandansdays @freyagallileaevans @alldaysdreamers @lizziesfirstwife @theonewithallthemilkshakes @freyathehuntress @ilovehopelessromantics @venomsvl @claire-loves-music @looneyleo @mmontgomery12-blog @myownworldsstuff @booknerdlifelover @fandomluver-101 @littleone65 @freyathehuntress @mxacegrey @pet1t3 @otheliesstuff

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F1 masterlist 🌶️🌶️

Charles Leclerc:

Charles x Vasseur!Daughter smut. - Part 2

Charles x Schumacher!Daughter OC. - Part 2- Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5… in the works.

Carlos Sainz Jr:

Carlos x CelebReporter part 1. - part 2- part 3- part 4 - part 5… in the works. Carlos x CelebEx! Reader. Carlos x AlonsoGirlfriend! Reader.

Daniel Ricciardo:

Daniel x HornerDaughter! Reader - smut- part 2- part 3- part 4- part 5- part 6- part 7- part 8- part 9- part 10- part 11- part 12- part 13 - part 14

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader SpiceDaniel Ricciardo x DrunkReader! Fluff - he does your skin care.

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader ~ Thigh Riding 18+. Fernando Alonso:

Fernando x YoungerReader! Smut - Fernando is a colleague of your dad. 18+. Fernando x YoungerCelebReader! Smut - You come into the paddock interviewing drivers and meet Alonso for the first time. It’s fair to say you make a good impression. 18+. Fernando x CelebEx! Smut - Fernando and Lila have been split for a year after her move to Australia. But during the GP there, when they bump into one another, old times are relived. Fernando x Reader headcanons - some sfw and some nsfw headcanons based on if Nando was your boyfriend. Fernando x Reader Smut - Fernando is wound up, just a Drabble on how he takes it out on you…

Jenson Button: 2009 Jenson X CelebReader! Headcanons. 2009 Jenson X CelebReader! Headcanons p2. Jenson x reader smut - Jenson and his girlfriend join the mile-high club and attempt to sneak off in a jet full of people.

Lance Stroll:

Lance Stroll X HornerBFFReader! Smut.

Lando Norris: Lando x SainzSisterReader!

Lewis Hamilton:

Lewis X Reader - Smut - sex on an F1 car.

Max Verstappen:

Max x HornerDaughter! Reader Headcannons. Max x CelebEx! Reader - Angst. - part 2 - part 3… in the works. Max x HornerDaughter!

in which Max admits to his close friend, and team principles daughter, that he’s in a not so enjoyable relationship… part 1. part 2. part 3. part 4. part 5. part 6. part 7. part 8. part 9. part 10. part 11. part 12. part 13. part 14. part 15. part 16. part 17. part 18. part 19 in the works…

Sebastian Vettel:

Sebastian x RedBull Design Engineer OC. - part 2. - part 3. - part 4. - part 5. - part 6. - part 7. - part 8. - part 9. - part 10.