PLEASE Can We Get More HOAF ?? Maybe Their Wedding With Absolutely Adorable Milo And Olivia OR Their

Masterlist 2.0

Since I have started broadening my writing horizons I feel that a new masterlist would be appropriate for the occasion! Let me know if you have any trouble with links. Hope you all enjoy!!

Notice: All Y/N characters in my writing are black, but anyone can interact with my posts!

*=smut

Requests are: OPEN

~*MCU Masterlist*~

Here!

~*Formula 1*~

Charles Leclerc

Red Braids (CL16 x Black Fem!Reader)

Upgrade U (CL16 x Black Fashionista!Reader)

Mon Bourdon (CL16 x Black Driver!Reader)

Mick Schumacher

To Love and Be Loved Without Even Knowing It series (MSC47 x Freelance Journalist Black Fem!Reader)

Part 1: Meet Cute Part 2: Everyone Knows Part 3: Friends to Lovers

Part 4: First Date*

Daniel Ricciardo

Prettiest Smile in the Paddock* (DR3x Black!Reader-iamsamiira face claim)

One Day (DR3 x Black Driver!Reader)

On Display* (DR3 x Younger!Reader-Taylor Russell face claim)

Max Verstappen

Repeat That* (MV1 x Black Content Creator!Reader-Halle Bailey face claim)

Be My Baby* (prequel for Repeat That) (MV1 x Black Content Creator!Reader-Halle Bailey face claim) {LATEST WORK}

Oscar Piastri

Girl Almighty (OP81 x Black Driver!Reader)

Lando Norris

Valentine (LN4 x Hamilton!Reader)

hellishjoel fic masterlist

notifications blog*denotes adult themes - 18+

12 Days of Pedro

kylee's follower celebration masterlist

joel miller

series

➢cinnamon girl* | (dbf/neighbor!joel) You and your parents rent a lakeside cabin, Joel and Sarah Miller are your neighbors. You’re all grown up, and you’ll do anything to prove to Joel you’re a woman now.  ➢psycho* | (brat tamer!joel) You're Joel's little psycho girlfriend, and sometimes you take things just a little too far.

➢cherry thrill* | (tattoo artist daddy dom!joel miller x virgin sub f!reader) Trust and devotion. Ink meets innocence. Your tattoo artist, Joel Miller, shows you what it really means to give up control. Reeling from the loss of your job, you’re running out of options, until a passing comment from Joel and a video camera give you just the right idea.

➢delicate | co-authored with @thetriumphantpanda Sarah decides, with a year until she leaves home for good, that it's time for her dad to start dating again. Joel doesn't understand the fuss, he's more than happy with how life is for him right now, but decides if it's for Sarah, he'll give it a go. After wading through the dating apps, he comes across someone new, someone who might just be able to be the company he's needed all along. ➢one shots / requests

frankie morales

series ➢table for two* | (linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader) Tommy’s Diner is where dreams go to die and burnouts clock-in for work. Waitressing would be boring without the flirtatious distractions of line cook Frankie Morales.

mike schmidt

➢every rose has its thorns* Mike really likes your white panties with the pretty rose on the front.

Chasing Starlight: Chapter 19

Pairing: Poly!Feysand x female!Reader

Summary: After Nyx’s birth, Feyre is seeking to ease her way back into her duties as High Lady and balance her time at the gallery with being a new mother. To ease her mind, she and Rhys have decided to hire a new nanny, who turns out to be far more than either of them had bargained for.

When I wake again, it’s with a steady roaring in my ears and a mind-numbing ache just behind my eyes.

I want to cry, but my stomach immediately rebels against the idea with a wave of nausea so severe I have to clench my teeth against it. I roll onto my side, curling as tightly as I can into a ball to wait for it to pass. A soft, cool hand presses against my forehead, the side of my face, and some of the nausea eases a little, just enough for me to ease my eyes open.

All I can see is the clear, cool blue of Feyre’s eyes. I drag my next breath in through my teeth in an attempt to stifle the ragged sob that tears itself from my throat anyway. The tears leaking down my cheeks are too hot and pitiful in a way that might make me resent them, if only I weren’t so exhausted. I feel like I took a tumble down the side of a mountain, from the way every muscle in my body burns.

“Oh, my dove,” she whispers, running her thumb over my cheek the way she might soothe Nyx after a bad night. “You’ll feel better soon.”

“Hurts,” I whimper, closing my burning eyes once more. Two brief, timid knocks at the bedroom door draw a deep, guttural snarl from my mate I’ve not heard before, and I reach for that unclaimed mating bond on instinct. It feels so thin and fragile, like it might rip if I tug too hard, but I don’t have the time to be gentle with it. I feel her cool, quick hands slipping beneath me, lifting my body like I weigh no more than the bird that’s become my namesake. I sag against her, shuddering with relief at the feeling of her skin on mine.

The contact doesn’t eliminate the pain, but it does help alleviate the ache in my chest. I bury my nose in her neck and inhale her lilac and pear scent, letting it sink in like a balm. She wasn’t here when I woke the first time, neither was Rhys, but I hadn’t truly been able to think of them then, to let myself worry. Not when the instinct to check on the babe was driving me so much harder. But now?

“Where’s Rhys?” I croak, trying to lift my head. It feels like there’s fire coursing through my veins instead of blood, and everything is so heavy. It hurts to move, to breathe.

“He’ll be home soon, love.”

“And you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, everyone else is fine.” There are two more knocks at the door, louder this time before the door swings open, and a sudden burst of raw power shakes the foundation of the house on the heels of Feyre’s furious snarl. The scent of her raw magic is overwhelming, a tempest of icy shadows and seawater and starlight that sets jagged claws into something deep within my mind and pulls, as if to rip it from me. I scream, and I don’t know if it’s from the shock of it or the pain that rolls through my mind like a protective barrier, but it comes with an agony I have not known before.

The roar in my ears swells, its pitch sharpening as my vision bleeds to white, and the last thing I feel is the lip of a cold, glass bottle being shoved between my lips before everything is blissfully blank once more.

I’m lost in that wine-dark sea again, but this time there is no starlight to keep me company. There is only the cold and the darkness threatening to devour me. I twist between the waves, looking everywhere for a source of light, a thread to follow home but there’s nothing. Nothing. I don’t know how I’m supposed to exist in this endless expanse of nothing.

Perhaps this is simply a battle I’m not meant to win.

I allow the current to take me, to pull me down deeper until I come to rest on something soft that folds up around me like a cocoon. Whispers of safe flow around me in a voice so similar to my mother’s that I almost look around for her. Safe, safe, safe. She’d always been trying to protect me, hadn’t she? When I was little, she’d warn me not to run too far or climb too high. In most of my memories, she’s always hovering on the periphery, watching with pursed lips and shaking hands.

I hadn’t understood her fear then, not even when I began work as a nanny did I understand it. Now I think I might.

“You always do once you have babes of your own,” my mother’s voice says, echoing through the darkness around me like a siren’s call. “They show you how vulnerable you are, how fragile life can be. It’s easy to know fear once you are a mother.”

“I am not a mother,” I reply, fighting the rising tide of bitterness I have always refused to allow to overtake me. Images of Nyx come to me in waves, memories of his gummy smile and vibrant twilight blue eyes, but I bat them away with a lump in my throat. It’s true, I don’t believe I would love him more if I’d given birth to him, but I’m not his mother. “I never will be.”

“How definitive that word is,” the voice muses. “Never. It leaves no room for chance or miracles, there’s no possibility in the face of never. Isn’t that lonely, love?”

“Lonely?” The laugh breaks from me before I can swallow it: a cold, hollow thing, a reflection of a wound I’ve nursed in silence for many years. “I am alone, I have been alone for so long that I don’t know how to be anything else. I found my mates, my mates, most High Fae don’t ever dream of meeting their own and I have two that I don’t know how to love.”

“You know how to love, little fox. Your heart has always been much too large to be contained, you spill a little of it everywhere you go-”

“That may have been true once,” I acknowledge, curling in on myself, “then my family burned around me, and someone told me to run so I did. I ran as fast and as far as I could get, and I swore I’d never lose anyone else. And I haven’t. You can’t lose people you don’t love, and I haven’t truly loved anyone until-”

Until now. The darkness bearing my mother’s voice is mercifully silent, leaving me there in the dark and the cold to think and to grieve. I had a family once, I had a father and brothers- no, that had been a lie, hadn’t it? I’d had a mother, though, a mother who had sacrificed everything she had to hide me. If I think about her long enough, I can remember the sense of illness and exhaustion that clung to her like so much sludge, weighing her down in spite of her spirit and her work ethic. It had chased her to her grave, hadn’t it? I’d never questioned the sickness as a child, she’d been a healer, I thought…but the image of her staring at me from Eris’s side burns so clearly before me, of him feeding me the potion that would bind my magic for centuries. How much of her own magic that must have taken, to create a spell- no, a curse that would render me nearly useless for the entirety of my life.

Powerless, docile, a threat to no one.

Who could I possibly have been such a threat to that I needed to be hidden away? With only a trickle of healing magic…a trickle I have not touched in a very long time. Magic poisoning had been one of the first lessons we learned as novice healers; our magic is as intrinsic to us as the blood flowing through our veins, we are taught never to neglect it for a reason. Is this…is this my fault, did I do this? I hold up my hand and try to summon it, to draw even the slightest bead of magic, but all that rushes forward is a burning ache that is quickly smothered by the cold, merciful darkness.

A darkness so unlike the one I’ve been stranded in, one that glimmers with hints of starlight. It floods into the space, too expansive to be contained. Whatever had wrapped itself around me flakes away on a cool, pine-kissed breeze, and the stars burst to life in its absence.

“There you are.” This voice is dark and rich, so lovely I want to weep, and it’s close. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Rhys?” I ask, rising onto my knees as I search for him in the starlight. “Are you here? I can’t see you.”

Please don’t let this be all there is of him, please don’t let this be a cruel trick of my memory, please I…I don’t want to be left alone anymore. I’m tired of the endless darkness and searching. I want to live, I want to be happy, I…I don’t want to die here, cold and alone. I want to live.

“I’m right here,” the voice whispers in my ear, and it comes with strong arms that pull me flush against a warm, familiar body until I’m surrounded by the scents of citrus and lilac and something like an orchard in the rain. “You’re not alone, darling, we’d never leave you alone. We’re right here, you’re safe.”

“Am I? I feel so sick, Rhys, I don’t understand what’s happening to me.”

“We’re figuring it out, dove, I promise. Mor retrieved a healer from Dawn, one of Thesan’s best, and she's working with Madja on a cure. None of us have seen magic poisoning that behaves like this before, it’s hard to treat.”

“What do you mean?”

“Typically, you would want to drain the excess magic off in some way, your body should want to release it. But with yours, there’s a sort of substance coating it, like an oil. Every time there’s an attempt to drain off your magic, it surges forward and creates a barrier-”

“Just as my mother intended,” I muse, running my fingertips along the arm wrapped around my shoulders. Instead of soft skin, I’m surprised to feel smooth scales and downy feathers, something more akin to a beast than the male I’ve been sharing a bed with. But he’s warm and he smells the same, so I suppose the presentation doesn’t matter much.

“What do you mean?” He asks slowly, carefully, like perhaps he might be afraid of where this answer will lead us. Maybe I should be as well. “Dove?”

I deliberate for a moment, weighing the words carefully in my mind, then the back of a cold talon trails down the side of my face and that’s all it takes for me to tell him everything. From falling stars to the dark cabin hidden away in the forests of Autumn, it sounds like little more than a fever dream, but I know what I saw; I even told him about the ball of light that led me there and the vial I drank from that tasted like the heart of a storm. Rhys listens to my story in complete silence, and once it’s done we watch the stars dance around us the way we had that night in the tub. I wish we could do this every night, and when I say as much he simply holds me tighter.

“We can,” he says quietly. “We can, every night, once we get out of here-”

“Can’t we stay?” I ask, resting my heavy head against his arm. “It’s so peaceful here.”

“No, darling, we can’t. No one else can get here, not even Feyre. This place is very deep within your mind, it’s not safe for you to have other people here.”

“But you’re here.”

“I’ve been doing this for a long time, you know. Almost as long as I’ve been alive. The mind has a myriad of ways it can present: some are fortresses, others are more akin to open fields with rabbit warrens to hide their secrets. None of them are impossible to navigate if you know what to look for and where to apply pressure. You’ve been swimming through an ocean into dark chasms designed to swallow you up, little dove, but that’s not what your mind chose to show me.”

“What does it look like to you?”

“Our home, filled with books and portraits of your memories. Everywhere I looked had little traces of you: the faintest whiff of your scent like you just left the room, or a blanket on the couch that was still warm. All good signs that you were still there, if I could figure out where to look. But the further I walked, the colder it got, and it felt like I was walking into rooms you hadn’t touched in years. There were cobwebs and dust covering the books, and all of the portraits were so faded I could barely make sense of them. I thought to go back and start at the beginning, then I heard your voice on the other side of a door I hadn’t noticed, tucked away behind some stairs. Did you have a door like that growing up?”

“I don’t remember,” I croak. My voice is harder to summon than it had been before. “There’s a lot of my life I don’t remember, Rhys, and I don’t even know if forgetting is a choice I made anymore.”

The stars are beginning to wink out one by one, taking whatever warmth they brought with them as they go. It feels like a warning.

“I don’t know, love, we can try to find out. You have to come with me, though. We need to leave.”

“I’m too tired. Just go, I’ll come later-”

“If you stay here, you will die. This place is the deepest part of your mind, but it isn’t safe for you to stay for long, and it sounds like you’ve spent quite a bit of time here already.” His words are gentle, but the urgency in them feels like a shock to something vital within me, and I lift my head from his arm. It feels too heavy to hold up, but I fight the urge to lay it back down. “Let me take you back with me, love, let me take you home. Feyre and Nyx are there, they miss you. Don’t you want to see them?”

“I do,” I mumble, and he lifts me into his arms like it’s as easy as breathing. Perhaps for him it is, I don’t know, but when he carries me through the door he’d described, I feel the weight of my body crashing into me again. The pain is absolutely unbearable. I don’t know when I begin screaming, but it tells me that I’m still alive. Another bottle is poised at my lips and I suck the contents down willingly, hoping it will put an end to the fire coursing through my veins.

The burning goes on and on until the potion works through my bloodstream, cooling everything it touches like a minty kiss. The moment my tight, aching muscles relax and I can take a true breath, I become aware of the cool rag against my brow, delicately dabbing away the sweat with the care one might give a precious crystal vase. Lilac and pear carried on a night breeze, those are the scents that flood my senses. My mates, both of them, are here with me. I’m not alone.

You will not be alone, sweetheart. Feyre’s voice wraps around my mind like a blanket of thin silk, and I hum, gingerly shifting onto my side, making sure I’m comfortably settled before I allow my eyes to flutter open. There’s no light beyond the open windows, another day gone. How many days have I missed? The sheets beneath me are cool and clean, and the linen nightgown is new. The air filtering into the room is cold and refreshing, tinged with the first brush of winter’s chill. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi,” I mumble, focusing first on the pale, tattooed hand smoothing my hair back.

“How are you feeling?”

“Mmhh,” I groan, shaking my head. “Not…not great, but better.”

“Better is good,” Feyre says weakly and I follow the line of her arm to gaze up at her lovely, angular face. Her pursed lips are pale and bitten, the slope of her shoulders seem to bear the weight of the world on them. I wriggle and flail until she realizes what I’m doing and helps me to sit up, reclined against a pile of pillows. Even this small shift feels like it was a great effort, but I think I’ve slept enough. I run my hand along Feyre’s arm until it rests on the curve of her neck. I can feel her pulse beneath my fingers, strong and steady.

“What did the healer say?”

“Don’t worry about it now.” Her words are gentle, intended to ease my anxiety, but I shake my head slowly. I need to know. “We sent word to Helion, he’s coming in a few days to see if he can help Rhys break the spell binding your magic, from there…from there, we can see how much of the internal damage is permanent. For now, you will rest and drink the potions the healers bring.”

“I don’t think it’s going to work,” I murmur as my hand falls back to my lap. “You may want to reach out to Eris, he was there when it happened.”

“Eris?” she asks slowly, her nose wrinkling as she turns the information over in her mind. “I didn’t think he was capable of magic like that.”

“He’s not, my mother was. I don’t know the nature of their relationship, not really, but I saw…I don’t know what I saw. I’d like the opportunity to ask him about it, though. He should have some of the answers we’ll need and, more than that, there are things I think I…I think I need to know.” What their relationship was, what they saw in me as a newborn that was so dangerous it needed to be hidden so thoroughly, who my…who my father truly is. I think of the male who raised me, the brothers who had not truly been my brothers, and my heart aches at the elaborate lie they’d all agreed to tell.

I need to know why.

“Will you tell me about it when you’re ready?” Feyre’s fingers trail down the side of my face and I look back to her, nodding slowly. Vague wisps of memories of the night this mess began floated through my mind, and I think of the cold, terrible fog that had flooded over the house and pressed against the glass like it was searching for a way in.

“Feyre?”

“Yes, love?”

“That fog…” I stop speaking when her face darkens and reach for her hand instead.

“It was terrible, dove, but Rhysand and Azriel have the matter in hand. It took us a while to pinpoint the source, but the protective shield around the city activated to keep it contained, so there weren’t…issues beyond the city walls. It was an old magic that hasn’t been seen since the disappearance of the Dusk Court being wielded by someone it was never meant to come to. Admittedly, I don’t know much about it, Rhys has been overseeing the interrogation while I’ve been here with you. We’ll discuss it later, love. We’re all safe now.”

“I suppose that’s all that matters,” I tell her with a shrug. Honestly, I’m happy to leave ruling the territory to those who are far more suited to it. When I open my mouth to inquire about our missing mate, the handle on the bedroom door turns with a click and we both turn to see him slipping through it. It’s a relief to see Rhys dressed comfortably in loose linen pants and an open wool cardigan, broadcasting his intentions to spend the night in. It’s the sight of the babe curled in the crook of his arm, pressed snugly against his father’s chest that eases something deep within me, a knot of anxiety I hadn’t really been conscious of.

The three people I love most are safe.

Feyre moves to sit with her side flush against mine, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I lean into her side- sag into it, really. I’m already so tired. Rhys settles on the edge of the bed beside us, his knees brushing against Feyre’s as he leans in to wordlessly place Nyx in my arms. There’s something unsettled in his expression I’ll ask about later, but the babe sniffling against my collarbone steals my attention. His fluffy, dark hair smells freshly washed, like the soap Mor always picks up for him during her shopping trips, and I can’t help but nuzzle my nose into it. Feyre’s free hand slips beneath his little wings to rub his back in slow, soothing circles, and Rhys rests his hands on our legs, giving us all a moment to connect.

To breathe each other in.

“I love you,” I murmur against the crown of Nyx’s head between featherlight kisses. I lift my burning eyes to look at his parents, my mates, and take a deep breath before I continue. “All three of you. I love you, I…I’m sorry I haven’t really said it before, not the way I’ve wanted to, but I do. I love you and I want you and this…and I’m so sorry-”

Rhysand leans in to kiss me then: slow and chaste and full of promise. The moment he pulls back, Feyre ducks down to take a kiss of her own, one that leaves me floating and more than a little breathless as she nuzzles her nose against my cheek. No words flow between us, but there's no doubt in my mind that the moment I'm well enough to do so, we'll be consummating this mating bond. I don't ever want to let them go.

Poly Pairings

Key: ♤angst ♡fluff ◇hurt/comfort ♧spicy ☆smut ○crack

Lestappen

Stop Thirsting♡ Mr. Blue Sky ♤♡ Baby Daddy☆ Attitude☆ Sad Boy Hours♤ Joint Coping♤◇ Hidden In Plain Sight♤♡ One for me and One for you◇ Ma Belle♡ Don't leave us♤◇

Landoscar

Sharing Is Caring ☆ Still have you♤ Ride ☆ Wish come true◇ Possesive☆ The responsible one♡○ Hold Me♡◇ Viva Las Vegas♡♧ Breathe For Me♤◇ Breaking point♤ Flowers in your throat♤◇ So Powerful, So Vulnerable◇○ Medication Mishap♡

Maxiel

Caught in a Lie☆

Carlando

Mentor Them☆○ The Wolf, the Bunny, and the Muppet☆

Charlos

Collapse◇

Dando

My love, my life, and my nerodivergent partners in crime♡○ Saftey In Your Arms◇

Loscar

Celebratory Kissing☆

Max and Oscar

Not your fault♤◇

Norlestappen

What you Deserve♤♡◇ Rest♡◇ Music Notes♤◇ Unrequited Understanding♤

2019 Rookies

Anfractuosity♤

Max, Lando, and Daniel

Cutting Tensions☆

Oscar, Logan, and Liam

Fair Play♡○ Panicking! In Your Arms♡◇ A Little Lost♡◇

Every Step of the Way◇

Omgggg wld u ever write carlos’ pov for the fic abt charles being a voyeur? Its sooo good i love it sm!!

hi anon! thanks for the lovely comment 💛 I think I’ve pretty much told all the story I wanted for this series, so I will not be revisiting Carlos’ perspective, which I think can be seen in part one!

in case you missed it, here’s the (evermore) threesome series! ✨

-> the violence of the dog days - charles’s perspective (prequel)

-> out on waves I’m being tossed / is there a line that I could just go cross - carlos / reader; charles watches (part one)

-> in the cracks of light / i dreamed of you - the threesome! (part two)

-> it was real enough / to get me through - the morning after (part three)

there’s another story that kind of exists in this universe unofficially as well:

-> put my mind at ease / pretty please - charles needs cheering up after a bad break up (part four-ish)

I so appreciate the love for this series but I also want to creatively explore other ideas and leave this threesome behind. I may have some ideas floating around for a mile high club threesome fic (courtesy of that vista jet video) so feel free to send me thoughts :)

SERIES MASTERLIST

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Summary: You meet Sirius and Regulus at a family vacation in the Caribbean, but things don't go as planned and you end up losing contact once the trip is over. Years later your family moves to England and you get accepted at Hogwarts where you finally meet Sirius once again, along with all of his friends. One of them with a mysterious secret, that you'll uncover as you embark on your own Hogwarts adventure. Mostly canon-compliant. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Read Gilded Constellations on AO3

Read the French Translation by @nagareboshi-chiyo

Paring: Sirius Black x Reader / Remus Lupin x reader / Wolfstar x reader

Chapter average: 5k - 6.5 k

Content: Smut in later chapters, Poly!Marauders, throuple, graphic descriptions of violence, MAJOR and minor character death (this is The Marauders Era guys, you know), jealousy, angst, pining, love triangle, LGBTQ+ themes, The Wizarding war 1.0, implied child abuse, possible proofreading errors, mental health struggles, hurt no comfort, hurt with comfort, period typical attitude, first war with Voldemort, canonical character's death, fluff, Requited Love, F/M/M, mostly canon-compliant.

Status: Ongoing (Weekly updates)

PLAYLIST

01 | Summer Breeze

02 | Escape

03 | Bitter Sweet Symphony

04 | Rainy Days and Mondays

05 | Good times

06 | Crazy Little Thing Called Love

07 | Peaceful Easy Feeling

08 I Fooled Around and Fell in Love

09 | The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke

10 | Black Dog

11 | Do Ya

12 | You really got me

13 | Rebel, Rebel

14 | Maybe I’m Amazed

15 | No One Like You

Interlude (Q&A Event)

16 | Boogie Wonderland

17 | Tonight’s What It Means To Be Young

18 | Friends will be Friends

19 | Silver Bird

20 | Bad Moon Rising

21 | Fox on the Run

22 | Long Long Way From Home

23 | Hungry Eyes

24 | Peace of Mind

25 | I’ll get Even With You

26 | Hooked on a Feeling

27 | Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

28 | If You Want BIood, (You’ve Got It)

29 | With a Little Help From My Friends

30 | Bridge Over Troubled Water

31 | Strange Magic

32 | Come a Little Bit Closer

33 | More Than a Feeling

34 | You Belong to Me

35 | Chill of Desire

36 | Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

37 | Gimme, Gimme, Gimme

38 | Let the Good Times Roll

39 | Running With the Pack

40 | Hot Stuff

41 | Urban Adventure

42 | Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

43 | Sympathy for the Devil

44 | No One But You

45 | Hold The Line

46 | Comfortably Numb

47 | Let Me Take You Home Tonight

48 |

49 |

50 |

51 |

52 |

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BONUS TRACKS:

Your Theories, The Note, The Costumes, Sirius and the Chimney, Sirius and Vix after the bad moon, Evans and Vixen, Remus and Vixen at the infirmary, Remus holding Sirius at DADA, Remus and Sirius’ height difference, the FOXSTAR picture, Art by @nineloseteeth, We're going French,

Leave a comment telling me if you want to join the tag list

A/N: Most Poly!Marauders fics are oneshots, where the relationship between characters is already established, and they're all happy and pleased with it. No issues, no drama, but I WANTED the drama. Couldn't find it, so I set myself up to write the story behind the stablished relationship. I wanted to know how they started dating each other, the jealousy, the will they won't they, because getting into a poly relationship can't be an easy task, and I wanted to explore that story. If you're interested: Welcome to Gilded Constellations!

Everything I Wanted LESTAPPEN X READER (PART 2)

Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

Word count: 8.9k

Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, angst, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read

Relationships: Lestappen x Reader

Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader

Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader

Notes: this is full of motorsport categories inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. This chapter is very angsty and none of it is an attack at the drivers nor their fans and personalities, please.

I know I KNOW, this got out of hand, AGAIN. I promise next part (and hopefully last) is more focused on the romance, and the happy ending reader deserves.

Find me on Twitter!

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (soon)

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You spent Christmas with your mom, sharing a lot of presents and watching a bunch of stupid Christmas movies. New Year’s was now a tradition to spend with the Raikkonen Family, joined with the closest friends for a little get together. It was a good opportunity to reconnect with Kimi’s kids who missed you a lot during the season.

Charles never contacted you during winter break, which you were sure was the best after that mistake. You hated each other too much and the only thing that could come out of that was toxicity from the both of you. You refused to even acknowledge what had happened and its implications, that wouldn’t and couldn’t mean anything.

During the pre-season testing in Bahrain, you and Charles were back to whatever your relationship was before that one lapse in judgment months before.

Nobody noticed anything.

One day, Fernando pulled you aside for a little chat. You two sat side by side on big moving boxes, sipping on energy drinks.

“There’s something I have been wanting to talk to you about since last year,” he started, seemingly pensive, distant.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, yeah. Remember after we first met when you asked me if I had advice for you regarding your career?” Fernando said, and you remembered.

Right after you had gotten close, you asked him for advice, you always did, especially about racing. But one day, you were chatting about his career, and you asked if had any lessons you should never forget. He had laughed joking about read all your contracts then asking if you were calling him old, but he said if he ever had any advice, he would tell you.

“Yes, have you got my answer yet?”

“Sí, Nena,” he paused, looking deep into your eyes, “enjoy.”

You frowned and he saw the confusion on your face.

“I see much of my younger self in you, you know? The same passion, this fiery desire to win, your goal for the championship, to conquer the world…” Fernando paused, looking up to the clear sky, the sunset coming around, “And I did. But I wish I had enjoyed it more. I should’ve gone to parties, I should’ve visited the countries we went to and tried the food, I should’ve made more friends, I should’ve had more lovers… I was so focused on winning, on getting my hands on that trophy of champion of the world, that I missed out on a lot.”

You felt your eyes tear up, and you wiped it before the tears came down. Putting your hand on his shoulder, you smiled at him.

“It’s such an honor race with you. And an even greater honor to have you as a friend, Nano” you whispered to him, you two laughed as his eyes watered too, and slapping his shoulder you laughed, “don’t make me cry, you old softie!”

You took his advice to your heart.

You went to the parties, you met new people, and that’s how after two entire seasons, you managed to befriend Lando, your teammate. You two had to open your hearts a little bit and meet in the middle. Which proved to be great, the whole team loved the change in your dynamic. You still weren’t besties, but you were close colleagues, and that was great. Everyone noticed the change and it reflected on how you started racing as a team instead of individually.

The car was even better than the year before, and the first race of the season you got a promising win.

That win, Lando’s pestering, and Fernando’s advice was how you ended up in a party after the Bahrain GP. Wearing a skimpy mini dress and 5 tequila shots deep, swaying your hips to the sound of Rihanna. You were dancing and singing with Lando and a few of his friends, loudly screaming the lyrics.

When it was way too hot for you, you grabbed a water bottle and beelined your way out of the crowded dance floor. You found a corner of the VIP section where the AC seemed to be working better, and as you stumbled inside the small space, you ran chest first into someone.

“Sorry,” you said, taking a step back and pressing your back against the cold wall.

“Enjoying your win?” Your head snapped up as you recognised Max’s voice. You had run into him.

Lando had mentioned inviting Max to the party, he had gotten a P2 in the race but you doubted he would go to a party he knew you would attend. You were obviously wrong.

“You know I am,” the victory was so good that nothing could ruin your mood.

“Well, then enjoy it. I’m coming for the win, again.” He warned you but his voice was devoid of anything, just sounded like he was casually telling you about the weather. But you knew that he was implying his championship the year before, rubbing it in your face.

“Don’t be so confident, Max,” you finished your water, smirking at him, “Enjoy the view of my rear!”

You flipped your hair, feeling his eyes on you the whole walk back to the dance floor.

And yet-

Somehow-

You ended up back at that small corner, dancing with your body pressed between Verstappen’s and the wall, his hand holding your jaw firmly, you rolled your hips against him, feeling the way his body responded to yours.

“We can’t-” he said to you, still, his eyes hadn’t left your lips, like he was so oh so tempted.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed. Sober you would never do that, but then, that was a problem for later. Checking to see if anyone was looking at you, you hooked a finger around his waistband and pulled him towards the bathroom.

As soon as the two of you were inside, you locked the door and Max pressed your back against the door, latching his lips to yours in a very desperate open mouthed kiss. You hugged his shoulders, opening your lips to him, his hands went down your sides and he grabbed your ass, pulling you into him. But that wasn’t enough, so he held your thighs and pulled up, carrying you. You locked your legs around his waist, and he stopped the kiss to walk, sitting you on the marble side of the sink, still between your legs, forcing his bulge against your panties, and eliciting a moan from you.

He took a half step back to hike your dress up, palming your cunt over your panties feeling the dampness of it, he tried to press his hand under your panties, but the lacy fabric didn’t leave much space, so he simply tore the bottom of them, exposing you to him. He just ran a finger over your slit, collecting your wetness for a brief moment before pushing a finger into you. Max watched your face with concentration, studying your body’s responses. Your hips shaking at the movement of his finger, and when the second one joined, you got louder. He curled his fingers up, his thumb pressing your clit, and you had to use both hands to hold onto him, your head lolling back against the mirror.

“Take it and shut the fuck up,” he grunted between clenched teeth.

He was pressing your insides so good, the slick sound of his fingers going in and out, his heavy breathing, the loud music outside and his laser focused fingers had you coming against his fingers in minutes. When he noticed you close, cunt spasming against his fingers, he pressed the other hand against your mouth, covering your moans when your toes curled and you orgasmed on his hand.

Max barely let you recover as he opened his jeans and stroked himself twice before pushing his cock into you in one swift move, making you gasp at the sudden intrusion.

“That’s what you wanted, right? Fucking teasing me all night,” He pushed particularly hard, hitting your g-spot, making you see stars, “you’re a fucking menace, y’know that? Fucking insufferable,” then his words became a mumbling of something dutch you couldn’t quite catch anymore with the way his hips snapped against yours, taking all your focus away and turning you into a mess of moaning.

Max fucked like he raced, focused and relentless, brutal. He hugged you with one arm around your waist to keep you in place and the other held you face, tilting your head so he could kiss you, or whatever that mess of saliva, tongues and teeth was. Your orgasm crashed through you unexpectedly, and you only hugged him tighter, pressing your face against his chest, biting into his skin through the fabric of his T-shirt to silence yourself, your teeth sinking into him was enough to send him also over the edge, coming with moans against your ear.

That night, you went home with shaking legs and an incoming headache, as Max left with the scraps of your panties in his pocket and your lipstick stain on his shirt, above his chest.

It was the seventh race of the year, Monaco, and you absolutely hated that specific track since your years of F2. During your two first years in F1 you had awful experiences, the rookie year you DNF and the year prior you had barely managed a P7. You were trying to keep your head up, be hopeful that you could at least try for top 5.

But since you couldn’t catch a fucking break, an old video of your teenage years resurfaced.

You were walking to your first round of interviews when Amanda, your PR manager, started walking by your side.

“There’s something. An old video of a karting competition resurfaced, where Max and Charles pretty much call you stupid,” Amanda was always direct, you could give it to her.

“Let me see the video” you asked, offering your hand for her phone.

“We don’t have time, but everyone will ask you about it. I need you to be the bigger person and act like it isn’t important, yes? They will try to taunt you and get a bad reaction from you, I need you to dismiss everything they throw at you. Agreed?”

You sighed. You knew the stuff from your teens were pretty bad, you rarely badmouthed Max or Charles, but they always felt threatened by you, so there were lots of instances they attacked you. Honestly, you just didn’t want to come out of this victimized. So as you entered the first round of interviews, you decided you were going to downplay anything they asked you.

“Y/N, have you seen the footage of you, Max and Charles from your teenage years that resurfaced recently?”

“No, uh, I haven’t.”

Someone pushed an iPad in your hands because of course, they wanted a live reaction from you. You pressed play, reading the subtitles someone put on the video. It was an amateur recording like a post race interview made by another teenage guy. First as Max walked out of the track, the guy asked what he thought of your win.

“It was luck, she’s not bright enough to think of a strategy,” Max said, walking away, clearly pissed having lost to you.

There was a cut and the camera was turned on again when Charles walked toward the guy asking the question. He repeated exactly the same question he had asked Max.

“Y/N, I don’t worry about her long term. She’s not going very far in this sport anyway,” Charles shrugged, seemingly unbothered.

As the video cut again, it showed your face, you remembered when that was. You were 14, and your dad had dropped you a few months earlier, so you were working your ass off balancing school, work and karting.

“Hey, Y/N. What do you think of your result today?”

“Uh, I tried a new strategy I learned earlier this week, thankfully it worked in my favor,” teen-You dried your forehead with your coat’s sleeve.

“What are your plans for this competition?”

“Well, I hope to be good enough to get into F4 next year, and work my way up into Formula 1,” you smiled softly and walked away after a quick bye.

The video ended and you still spent a few seconds staring at the black screen of the iPad. This interview didn’t come to your mind in more than a decade, but it was nice seeing how you made your 14-year-old dream come true.

“So, what do you say?” The reporter extended his mic to you.

“I guess I proved them wrong, right?” You giggled a little, “don’t take it to heart, really. We were all hormonal teenagers, I’m sure if someone digs, they will find a video of me saying the same stuff about them,” you shrugged, despite that being a lie, sounded dismissive enough.

“So it doesn’t upset you?” The reporter insisted, and you knew he wanted a scandal you weren’t willing to give.

“Of course not. I’ve always known my worth, and I’m P1 in the driver’s championship as of right now. So I don’t really care.”

The interviewers soon let the video go, when they realized you didn’t care about it. You weren’t sure if anyone would also approach Charles or Max with questions about the same video, but you couldn’t care less, you wanted to avoid drama for the time being so you could focus on the championship instead of this bullshit.

On the morning of qualifying, you were in your room, trying to meditate and clear your mind, when a knock interrupted you.

“Guys, I asked for twenty minutes so I could-” you stop yourself when you realize it isn’t anyone from your team, but it’s Max and Charles, “what are you doing here?”

“We came to apologize about the video,” Max started.

“Did your PR teams send you here?” You looked around, trying to catch a camera or even a phone recording.

“No uh, we realized we were very immature with you, and this video is just proof of how silly that was,” Charles sighed, seemingly embarrassed.

“You don’t need to apologize, I mean- the two of you really had it out for me, you called me dumb a lot,” you pointed to Max, then Charles, “and you called me ugly countless times. I don’t know why it would make any difference now.”

You were just so used to being defensive, to protect yourself from hatred you found it hard to believe them, to give them a chance to apologize because you couldn’t believe it to be genuine.

“Even if you don’t take it, or believe it, I would like to apologize for that behavior. I was just a stupid kid.” Max looked deep into your eyes, which could’ve made you uncomfortable if he didn’t seem so honest.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. It was too idiotic to be like that to you, growing up. You were just a kid too.” Charles added.

You understood where that apology came from, it was stupid and embarrassing for all three of you this teenage rivalry when you all were barely mid racers back in the day. Sighing, you looked around, dropping your façade for a second, allowing yourself to display the same honesty they showed you.

It was hard and required some sort of deprogramming because you could only see them as rivals, like your dad had whispered in your brain so many times before, like their actions towards you had cemented dad’s words. They had said things that were on your mind for so long, that had made you defensive and deflective.

“Look, don’t worry about it. Whatever happened back then, it’s water under the bridge,” You shifted on your feet. As they started walking away, you added “this doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

They only nodded before leaving. Your routine went back to the same, and as the next scandal went on, people forgot about the silly video, but a very specific part of the fans started shipping you and both your rivals.

The rivalry never died down though.

Then, out of nowhere, Sebastian pulled you and Lewis aside to a conversation. Then he told you that he was going to retire by the end of the season. It was the first time the two of them saw you cry, and Sebastian hugged you tight, shushing your crying softly.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, petting your head.

“No, don’t apologize,” you let him go, drying your face, “I have listened to you talking countless times about how you missed the kids. Don’t apologize for choosing to be a great dad. I know Hanna and the kiddos will be ecstatic.”

“You two are my closest friends here, that’s why I wanted to tell you first, before my announcement.”

“Thank you, Seb,” you said, eyes still watering, “I’m going to miss having you around.”

“Thank you for telling us beforehand,” Lewis said, also visibly emotional.

The season was writing itself to be just as close as the year prior, but now you were slightly better at keeping the lead most.

That is until Zandvoort. This GP was always a nightmare to you, because it was full of Max’s fans, and they absolutely hated you for being his rival. You had been booed when you were on the podium the year before, so now, you and Amanda decided it was best to keep your head down during the whole week. Not out of shame, but more of a matter of safety, you didn’t know how far the crowd could go in antagonizing you. When you were booed the other year, Max had said it was part of the sport and dismissed the conversation.

The morning of free practice, you went into the paddock very low-key and kept to yourself. You arrived with a little cup of coffee and got mentally ready for a hostile environment the whole weekend. That, until you spotted a small group of people dressed with your color and wearing your number, waving wildly to you.

In a spur of the moment decision, you went there, getting close to the barrier to sign a few caps and take a few selfies. In retrospect, you knew you shouldn’t have done that, especially with only two bodyguards accompanying you.

You were finishing chatting with your fans when you felt something heavy hit the side of your head and the impact made you stumble backwards, you were confused as you heard the screams and felt one of the bodyguards pull you back, as the other jumped the barrier and started running. You patted your temple and something wet and sticky was dripping down the side of your face. You stared at the small group of fans who were looking at you horrified. Staring at the hand, you saw the red staining your fingers, and as the bodyguard kept pulling you away to somewhere safer, the thing flowed even more and  got into your left eye.

You wondered if it was blood as you touched your temple but felt nothing, not a gash nor small cut. You covered your left eye as it started to sting from what you supposed smelt like paint.

“Hey, hey, what happened? You’re bleeding!” Max jogged up to you.

“Not blood, just paint” you muttered, trying to use your coat to clean your face.

“Someone threw a paint ball at her,” the bodyguard said.

“Fuck, it’s burning!” You exclaimed, feeling tears in your left eye.

“Come here, the RB hospitality is close,” Max said, holding your wrist, he stopped shortly pointing to your bodyguard, “and you, sort this and find the person who did it.”

You let yourself be taken by Max into the RB territory, the burning so annoying that you rather take whatever solution he was thinking of. He held your waist and placed you sitting on a sink, and then you felt water streaming down your face.

“Stay still,” Max commanded, holding a hose over your head, pouring water down your face, “now blink slowly, let the water wash it,” his voice soft as you did what he told you to. Slowly but surely, it washed the paint away, relieving your left eye from the stinging. Max held the hose up and held your chin, tilting your head up so he could check your eye, still letting the water stream down your face.

You took a few minutes, breathing and regulating your heartbeat from that scare, trying to come back to normal and understand fully what was going on. From what you gathered, you were chatting with fans when someone else came and threw something with paint at you.

“How does it feel?” 

“It’s better, already stopped burning,” you told him, feeling your heart miss a beat at the close proximity you found yourself to him. You were sitting on a sink, Max standing between your legs pretty much like you two had done months before for entirely different reasons.

“Open your eye, let me see,” he asked, and you tried to blink it open, “can you see?”

“It’s a little blurry but I believe it will get better,” you explained, and he didn’t let go of your chin. Suddenly, he covered your right eye with the other hand, leaving you only with your left eye sight.

“How many fingers am I putting up?” He showed it to your left eye. The vision was a bit blurry but you still could make out the shapes very clearly.

“Four, Max. It’s just a little bit blurry, probably will get better in a few minutes” you sounded annoyed, you tried to move but he pressed a hand against your waist, keeping you in place.

“Now, what happened?” He asked finally. You ignored the proximity, and the hand still on your body.

“We’re in Zandvoort, that’s what happened,” you shrugged, really annoyed about it.

“What do you mean?” He was visibly confused. You scoffed because you knew it wasn’t something he didn’t know, since the year before he has dismissed the importance of how hostile people were to you.

“We’re massively surrounded by your fans, Max.”

“I don’t understand.”

“They hate me because you hate me, and they think because you hate me they’re justified in their hostility towards me,” You explained, with a sigh, you pushed away from Max, “this GP has been like this for me ever since Rookie year.”

“I don’t hate you,” he said, brows furrowed.

“You do. And they do too,” you pointed down at the paint that had also stained your shirt as proof.

“I don’t,” he insisted and you rolled your eyes, jumping off the sink, but he didn’t give you space, which made you stand chest to chest with him, “I promise.”

You stared at him, breathless. That wasn’t part of the game you played, being kind, sounding worried and making promises. None of that was part of this whole rivalry. Pushing his chest, you tried getting away but he caged you against the sink, body flush against yours.

“Do you believe me?” He asked and your eyes fell to his lips, and you allowed yourself to remember the desperate and chaotic kisses you had shared in a dimly lit bathroom, “I don’t support any of this behavior.”

You heard voices and steps approaching, which made you finally push him away, walking towards the door. Whatever little magic had been happening between those walls was undone the moment you remembered none of that would’ve happened if he had politely put a stop to it earlier.

“It’s part of the sport and I have to deal with it, right?” You returned the very same words he had said about you when you were booed by the crowd the year prior.

As you opened the door, you were faced with Sebastian. He stopped, taking you in and then pulling you in a hug.

“Are you ok? We just heard what happened!” He murmured, guiding you out of the bathroom. He held your shoulders and looked at your face, checking how your left eye was still a little red, “we should take you to see a doctor, come on.”

Lewis soon arrived at the entrance of the RBR station, he warned about the reporters crowding outside, waiting for a glimpse of you after the attack. The British man gave you a Mercedes coat so you put it over your head and avoid the cameras waiting outside. With the bodyguards and both Lewis and Sebastian leading you away, you ended up at the medical center, and after a quick examination, the doctor gave you eye drops to put throughout the day.

Your Principal suggested you sit the FP1 out, letting the reserve driver take your place while you recovered. By the middle of FP1, your eyesight was 100% and you went to get ready for FP2. The whole day you felt like everyone was being extra careful, tiptoeing around you. You hated feeling like you were being pitied, so when the inevitable round of interviews came, you knew what you had to do.

“We heard about your incident earlier today, how are you feeling about it?” Someone asked.

“I’m pretty upset, to be honest. Formula 1 is a sport loved around the whole world, and the paddock overall is supposed to be a safe place not only for the fans, but also the workers and drivers. What happened today is unacceptable and could’ve been much worse. I’m voicing my dissatisfaction and I intend to, through legal means, take this complaint to the FIA.”

Later that night, as you laid awake on your bed, scrolling through the repercussions of the day, you stopped when you saw a snippet of Max's interview.

“What happened today was dangerous and unacceptable, I don’t support this behavior and I stand with Y/N,” that was all he said, but Max usually was a man of few words, always knowing when it was enough.

You knew he should’ve voiced that much earlier in your career, specifically after the booing the year before, but still- He also could have opted to not say anything at all, and he didn’t.

Amanda also sent you the news that the fan who had attacked you was found and banned for life from Formula 1.

After calling Sebastian, you managed to get ahold of Max’s phone number and texted him a simple message.

Thank you. Twice. - Lioness

The text went to read almost immediately, and the three dots appeared from his side of the screen. You wait, and wait, and wait. And then the dots disappeared, and an answer never came.

After a solid P2 that weekend in Zandvoort, you went home for the summer break. You and your mom had planned to go to Monaco for a little while since you were planning on buying a place there. From there, you and your mom would go all around the French Riviera to enjoy the sea and spend a few days in a spa resort. Then, you would go back home and relax before going to Ibiza for a weekend to meet Lando and his friends to enjoy some partying.

Everything went according to plan, but one day when you came back home after the trip to the French Riviera, you found your mom passed out on the living room floor.

You called an ambulance, quickly taking her into the hospital. Everything was a blur, the tests and scans, your mom still unconscious on a hospital bed, and the results. The results that pulled the floor from under your feet.

Your brain couldn’t fully compute what was said. Cancer Stage 4. Surgery. Palliative care.

The world was muted around you as you sat on a chair in the waiting room, hands shaking when you tried to understand what was happening. You somehow ended up calling the one other person you trust.

“Y/N? What happened?”

“I don’t understand- she just- she just passed out and I thought- but- but they said- palliative care” you try to come up with words.

“Talk to me. Are you sick?” Kimi’s voice is so focused and a little soothing.

“It’s mom”

“Send your location, I’m going there,” that’s all he said.

Waiting for Kimi gave you some sense of purpose, because it’s Kimi. He could fix anything. He fixed your life when you were 14, he can do it again. He would get there and find a way to help. Your mind got so clouded when the word cancer was thrown in the conversation, that you probably missed the part about treatments and- and surgery and stuff.

In your mother’s room there was a comfortable couch where you tried to settle to sleep, but you only spent countless hours awake. You hoped to see the doctor again to try and get him to explain everything for a second time.

You wished you were smart and quick, but no, you just sat there holding onto the hope that Kimi had a way to fix this.

Kimi arrived early the next morning, knocking on the door before entering. You stood up, hugging him tight.

“What happened?”

“It’s pancreatic cancer, they said. We need to see more about surgery and- and treatments.”

You and Kimi found the doctor, who explained again, and in that moment you finally understood what he meant the first time around. She was in a late stage of pancreatic cancer, which was usually a very difficult illness to find before it is too late, due to the placement of the organ in the body and late symptoms. The only options were either to try a very risky surgery and chemo so she could extend her life for around 8 months to a year. Or she could go home to live her last few months the way she wanted.

You begged and cried and bribed and offered every single solution your brain could muster to try and save her. Kimi held you when you fell to the floor, sobbing.

When your mom woke up and you and Kimi told her the diagnosis, she cried too, sobbing in your arms as you tried to hold it together for her sake. It took a couple of days for her to choose to go home. The two of you spent the last days of summer break traveling around the world a bit more, visiting temples and statues, and seeing nature and everything good the world had to offer, going to places motorsport hadn’t taken you to.

Your mom went to every race week from there on, even when she felt especially weak, even when you had to hire a full time medical team for her. 

Your focus on the season was solely on the moment between entering the car and leaving the car. You still managed to race like you’ve done before, calm and controlled, with the help of your engineers and team, you still could put the car where you wanted it, paving your way for a solid world championship that year. It was like your brain was seeing racing as the one thing in your life you had full control over, so sometimes you even felt like you and the car were one.

You didn’t tell anyone about her. Though every driver noticed how distant you were, even Charles and Max and the ones that weren’t very close to you noticed how you were only fulfilling your obligations and leaving, you weren’t even celebrating your wins, leaving the fastest you could after a race.

The Singapore GP was tough for you, having to leave your mom home alone with the medical staff and a couple of friends from her book club, since she wasn’t strong enough to travel anymore. Your attention was failing all throughout media day and free practices. Qualifying was shit compared to your performance the rest of the season.

In Q3 you did a reasonable sector 1 and 2 but you messed up sector 3 completely. It was a complete accident when you got in the way of a Ferrari when he was doing his fast lap, and you ended up messing his qualy too. Jace let you know it was none other than Charles Leclerc, who was setting the pace for a pole position. Out of 19 drivers, you had to ruin his lap. In the end, Max got pole, Charles qualified P3 and you qualified P5.

You went through the motions during the post qualifying press. You were about to leave after debriefing, when Charles Leclerc found you on the way to the parking lot. You pulled your coat tighter around yourself protectively as he walked up to you. You were hoping to escape his fury at least until after the race the next day. Before he could even get a word in, you started.

“Look, I know I messed up your pole. I know you won’t believe me, but it wasn’t intentional. I really thought there was no one doing fast laps on the track, I thought everyone was either still doing out laps or in the pits, so when you-”

“Calm down, breathe,” he interrupted you, “I’m not here to fight.”

“No?” You frowned, confused with the kindness in his eyes.

“We know you’re going through something, and I’m sure I’m the last person you want to hear this from, but you’re not alone. And you should really consider talking with someone on the grid. They’re all- we’re all worried about you.”

The words felt alien coming from his mouth, but the gentleness was so comforting you felt a lump in your throat.

“Why do you think I’m not ok?” You muttered trying to sound confident, but your voice failed, betraying you.

“You’re skinny and you look sleep deprived for a few weeks now,” Charles said directly.

“Damn, thanks.”

“I don’t mean it like that, you know it,” he paused, putting both hands on his pockets, “have you been eating?” Your lack of response made him press further, “have you eaten today?”

You pressed your lips together, not wanting to answer that.

“Let’s go, I’ll drive you to the hotel, we’ll stop on the way to grab some food,” Charles gestured to his car, a few meters away. You stood there, shocked as he started walking away, then he stopped looking over his shoulder, “come on, I don’t have all the time in the world.”

As you sat in his Ferrari, Charles put music on and you didn’t do much talking, but it was tranquil. He called the restaurant to order take out on the way, and 30 minutes later he dropped you off at the hotel with a bag full of food.

“Thank you, Charles.” You whispered before leaving the car.

You ate the food while on a video call with your mom.

You recovered well during the race, finishing P2, behind Max and ahead of Charles.

Your mom passed away a few days after the Japanese Grand Prix, the one you had won and dedicated it to her from the top step of the podium, even if she wasn’t there, just watching from home. You went home and stayed with her, holding her hands and hugging her as much as you could.

Some part of you knew she was somehow fighting, because she had promised you the year before she would be there when you became world champion. You could see she was hoping to make it to the end of the season, but you also knew she wouldn’t, and you rather she didn’t have to endure any more pain just for your sake.

“You don’t need to fight anymore, ma,” you whispered before she went to sleep, “you raised a strong woman, too. I will see you on the other side, ok? You can rest now, I love you.”

“I’m so proud of you, honey. I love you to the moon and back.”

You made it through her small funeral, following what she had written down before passing. An intimate funeral, full of flowers and a toast to her life. You cried the whole time, with Kimi and Minttu taking turns at comforting you as they could. Coming back to an empty home smelling of cleaning products made you almost lose your mind, and the sight of you in such despair was enough for Kimi to convince you to stay with them until you had to travel for the next race, in almost seven days.

The days passed in a crying blur, you let part of your team know about your mom’s passing. Only Amanda, Jace and your Principal. Jace tried to convince you to take a break and not go to the next race in Mexico, but you quickly shut it off. Not only because racing was the one thing keeping you sane amidst the chaos, but because you were so close to the championship, and  it was still close competition with Max and Charles, so you couldn’t afford to lose a race and the points that could come with it.

You had to honor your mom in some way.

That’s how you ended up on a plane to Austin with Kimi and Amanda. You knew Kimi had convinced you to let him go because he was sure you’d have a mental breakdown anytime along the weekend, but deep down you appreciated the company. Arriving there, Jace was the first to hug you and whisper his condolences, as well as your TP too.

You survived the entire weekend without breaking down crying in public, but that was your worst race in a few months, the first time out of a podium since Spa. You ended up P5, which luckily wasn’t too bad because Max finished P4 which you were grateful for as he was the one who was P2 in the driver’s championship close behind you.

After that week, you packed your stuff and moved to the new condo in Monaco you had bought during summer break. Despite loving your mom to pieces, you couldn’t manage to live alone in the house you bought for her a couple of years before, it was lonely and it hit you with overwhelming waves of sadness all the time. You distracted yourself a lot with buying furniture and decorations for the new place, and discovering Monte Carlo in a whole new way. The one comfort in all that, was knowing your mom wasn’t suffering anymore.

Then you went straight to Mexico for the next Grand Prix, this time, Kimi left you because he had to come home to Minttu and the kids. Amanda had been such a support for you, that you knew you had to give her something special for the holidays, out of gratitude.

Everything was going as expected until the press conference. You were there with Charles, Max, Sebastian and Lando. You suspected they were putting you always in the same group as Max and Charles because, as the season nearing the end, only three races left, they were your close competition.

While someone asked something of Charles, you were whispering with Sebastian, chatting about Mexican foods you wanted to try after the race. Then, something bizarre happened, and phones started to ping all around the room, between reporters, cameras and everyone else started checking their phones. It seemed like something out of a black mirror nightmare.

You reached for your phone but then remembered you left it to charge in your room.

“This question is for Y/N,” a reporter asked, reading something from his phone, “there’s a new article that just came out saying your mom passed away a couple of weeks ago, is that true?”

Your blood ran cold, and every sound felt like it was muted inside the room. Wide eyed, you searched for Amanda, who was somewhere on the opposite side of the room, and when you found her, she was pale. Then, there was a cacophony of voices and cameras and questions, that made you suddenly overwhelmed.

Swallowing, trying to reassess, you found Sebastian already standing, holding your shoulders. Looking around you noticed how the other three drivers had stood up, making some sort of shield around you, protecting you from the cameras and reporters swarming around. 

“We can go, ok? Come on,” Sebastian was saying when Amanda caught up to you, leaning beside Sebastian.

“We can leave, right now,” she said, holding your hand.

Still a little confused, you nodded and let them both guide you back to your room.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Sebastian hugged you, running his hands on your back for comfort.

“How- how did they find out?” You ask Amanda.

“An article came out, I’m not sure. Someone was probably digging into your life, but don’t worry, I put the team on it already.”

“How do- how we diffuse this? How do we proceed? We need to address this, right?” You started blabbering, trying to wrap your head around everything.

“That was very disrespectful of them to ask like that!” Sebastian exclaimed, making you two jolt.

“We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with. Do you want me to release a note asking for privacy?” Amanda suggested.

“Can I write something and then run it by you?” You asked, she only nodded.

After a moment, both Amanda and Seb left you alone as you typed a note on your phone. You rewrote and deleted a few times before settling on something heartfelt and respectful but also, calling out the invasion of privacy.

My mom passed away a few days ago after battling with cancer for the past few months.

She had requested of me to keep it a secret until after the season was over, so I could mourn her without the weight of racing over my shoulders. 

But obviously someone went digging and disrespected not only one of her last wishes but also disrespected my grief and my right to privacy. I love my mom but I’ll not be answering any more questions about her illness or death, please respect me and respect her memory.

All the love, Y/N

Nobody asked anything over the weekend, but again, it felt like everyone was tiptoeing around you. As soon as you first saw Nano the next day, he held you tight for almost a minute whispering his condolences, and it made you almost cry again. Lewis also spared you a hug, saying if you ever needed anything, to contact him.

You survived that weekend, and decided to go straight to Brazil for the next GP instead of going back to Monaco. In São Paulo you mostly slept your worries and fears away. You had promised yourself to try and focus on the season only, to make your dream come true, to fulfill your mom’s promise in some way.

With Ferrari’s bad strategy in Mexico, they had ruined Charles’ chance at the championship. Now your only competition was Max and the Red Bull rocketship.

You rewatched the race a couple of times as you usually did, to try and catch any mistakes you or your team may have made, to fix it for the next one. But also to try and notice any weaknesses of your rivals, if it was something you could use in your own favor.

You noticed right away in the FP1 that your car wasn’t adhering to the track, you were losing balance and needed more force than usual to keep yourself in place. By FP2, you managed to control your car better, but that caused your tyres to wear off way more quickly.

Quali was one of the shittiest you’ve ever done in your career, taking you out in Q2 for the first time that year, placing you for a start at P12.

“Listen, we’ll do better tomorrow, ok?” Jace told you as soon as you entered the garage, seeing Max still out with a shot at pole position.

“Give me a few minutes to unwind, please,” you asked, dropping your helmet, balaclava and gloves at a nearby table.

You went straight to your room, searching for your phone. Immediately calling Kimi, you waited for him to pick up.

“I watched it,” he said first and foremost.

“If I do bad in the race tomorrow, and Max does well, then I’m gonna lose the championship, Kimi,” saying that out loud made you shiver in horror, “FUCK!” You screamed, kicking a chair.

“First of all, even if you did bad tomorrow, you’d still have a chance to fight for the championship in Abu Dhabi. You know that,” Kimi warned you as if he was scolding a little kid, “second of all, I never taught you this loser mindset. You’ll have to find a way to work around the problems in your car tomorrow.”

“Shit, I’m so fucked! How? How could I even-”

“Remember when I first met you? Your kart was with almost this same problem, yeah? Remember you got P2? You went ahead and fixed it. That’s what I need you to do tomorrow, don’t focus on what you can’t do, only focus on what you can do.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“No trying. Do it.”

After spending the entire night crafting plan A, B, C and Z with you strategists and engineers, you barely got any sleep, but you forced yourself to rest. In the morning, you went to the track early to meet with your team again, to run your strategies one more time, when you had an idea. You’d still follow the plans you had carefully crafted with the team, but you decided to make a Plan Star, as you had called. Interlagos didn’t have any safety car in the last two years, so it was dangerous to fully count on one. But your plan star consisted in the case of a safety car in this one specific window of laps, you’d go to the pits for hards, counting on everyone else being on old softs or mediums at that specific point in the race. But for it to work, you had to be the first of the front field to go in.

As the lights went out and you accelerated, you got already three positions up, landing in P9, and luckily, the points zone. Jace was worried in your ears, talking about the car and the tyres management. With controlled calm and Kimi’s voice in your head, you managed a few more positions in the first 14 laps, landing P7. You lost a bit of time there, since Nando was P6 and everyone knew how tough it always is to overtake him. But you eventually managed to get the position. Unfortunately, it was the moment you had to go to your first pitstop. Due to the problems in your car wearing off your tyres, you would have to go for a two-stop, which ended up costing you three positions again. But you were patient and you were rewarded when the other cars had to pit, which gave you back the four places you had lost.

The race you went on and you barely moved up or down from your P5, but you managed to concentrate.

Jace, on the other hand was sounding more and more worried about your second pit stop, about the difficulty in get closer to P4, about the P6 trying to enter DRS zone behind you, with your tyres wearing off, with the-

“Jace, I love you but please shut the fuck up, I know what to do,” you were praying for a miracle when suddenly, there was a yellow flag, and the safety car went out during the perfect window of laps, “fuck, Jace, this is plan star.”

“Copy,” he paused, his voice sounding secure, “Box, box.”

You changed into hards, no one else went to the pits, and the race restarted after three more laps. The safety car had closed the gap between you and the P4, which made you overtake him easily.

Jace was still keeping quiet to help your concentration, he only interrupted to warn you about overheating your tyres, and your velocity per lap compared to the next position. You started overtaking like a madwoman as much as your tyres allowed.

“That’s P1, Lioness,” Jace told you.

“Copy that.” You said with your voice shaken.

As you managed your P1, you went back to be aware of your surroundings, seeing a Red Bull right behind you, trying to overtake but you managed to hold position.

When you took the checkered flag, you sighed with relief, Kimi was right.

“Congratulations, Y/N! That’s a brilliant, brilliant win!” Jace’s voice was sounding shaken too.

“You’re crying, Jace?” You laughed softly.

“It’s an honor to tell you that you, Y/N Y/L/N, are a Formula 1 world champion!” Jace shouts, and behind him you can hear more people screaming.

“What? Jace you’re fucking with me!”

“No, Lioness, you’re the 2022 champion of the world!”

“But- but how? There’s one race left? And Max was right behind me!”

“No, Verstappen DNFed during that one yellow flag. Behind you was Perez.”

You made the calculations quickly in your head. Max was P2 in the championship, but this DNF meant no points, and even if he managed to win the last race in Abu Dhabi, he wouldn’t be able to equal you in points. So-

“OH MY GOD, oh my god!” You screamed your lungs out, feeling the tears streaming down into your balaclava, “Fuck yes! I’m Formula 1 World Champion! Thank you, thank you so much guys! Jace, holy shit, I’m the champion!”

“You’re the champion!” Jace confirmed.

You felt joy in a way you hadn’t felt in a long, long time, as you stopped your car on the number one spot. Still a little dizzy from the thrill, you left the car, going straight to your team, heavily waiting for you. They all hugged you, hitting your helmet, saying congratulations and everything. You took a moment to hug Jace and Amanda, who had been of great support throughout the year.

After getting weighted and being congratulated by the other two on the podium, Perez and Hamilton, the latter hugging you tight as he took you off the floor, you drank water as you waited for the post race interview with Nico Rosberg.

You were giddy, barely holding yourself together with how happy you were feeling, how you wanted to hold the trophy, how grateful you were and more importantly, how you felt a great weight being lifted off your shoulders.

“Y/N, congratulations on becoming a World Champion! I have to say, as a girl dad, it is great to see you become the first woman ever to win this title. How do you feel? What do you want to say?” Nico offered, with a kind smile.

“To be honest, I can barely contain myself. It’s such an honor to be here and be the world champion. I look at the past and see my younger self who never thought would make it to Formula 1. It’s such a dream come true, after this year’s hardships, I’m glad to achieve the greatest dream of them all!” You said, kinda quickly, rambling as you tried to put into words all the emotions mixed with the happiness, “I’m sorry, I know I’m taking up all your time, I just want to dedicated this win, and this championship to three people who saved my life: Kimi, thank you for being the salvation of my career when we first met; And my mom, who’s not here anymore, thank you for being the light in my darkest days. And lastly, I want to thank myself for working my ass off and never giving up.”

You muttered a thank you as Nico only laughed at your rambling. Before you moved to the cooldown, you grabbed the mic back again.

“May I add one last thing?” You asked for Nico, who only nodded, pointing to the camera again, “This is to my father: I made it, you asshole.”

You wanted to send the middle finger too, but you knew you couldn’t because of the FIA’s guidelines, and you were already risking a penalty for cursing on live TV. In the cooldown room, you sat beside Lewis, watching a few highlights of the race on the screen. It showed a couple of your overtakes.

“Damn, you overtook like crazy,” Lewis muttered, seemingly amazed.

“I pulled a Lewis Hamilton in Interlagos last year,” you joked, and he laughed.

That podium felt like the culmination of everything you had worked for your whole life, felt like recovering your love for the sport for what it was, for the fast cars and the adrenaline. Being on that podium in Brazil as a World Champion shifted something inside you forever. During your anthem, you laughed, and when you got the trophy, you cried, pointing the trophy to the sunny sky with a silent prayer to your mom. You barely noticed, but you felt the champagne raining on you, and opened your arms to shower in it. Putting the trophy down, you splashed the other bottle, laughing and wetting everyone that was close to you, Lewis, Checo, Jace, who had gone up representing the team.

When the celebration ended, you stayed behind a little more, watching the crowd from the podium, and they started chanting. It took you a few seconds to realize they were chanting your name.

You raised your trophy at them, and they cheered even louder. Then you pointed it to the sky again.

“Look, ma, I made it” you whispered to yourself, feeling the tears streaming down your face.

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It's Never Too Late Masterlist

Summary: You are an elementary school teacher who just moved to Texas for a fresh start when you meet a very handsome man from the Laredo Sheriff's Department coming to give your class a presentation.

After your co-workers pull some strings for you to meet again, you and Javier Peña find yourselves falling head over heels for each other.

Story takes place post Narcos Season 3 in Laredo, Texas, starting May 1997.

Paring: Javier Peña x OFC (Reader is an elementary school teacher whose nickname is Osita, no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+ chapters containing marked with * and each chapter will also have its own warnings), language, fluff, romantic comedy, reader has physical descriptions, Javi being so soft and getting all the love and affection he deserves, you two being the biggest weirdos so in love

Status: Ongoing

Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list for new chapters as they come out! :)

Main Story:

Chapter 1: I D.A.R.E. You

Chapter 2: What's Cookin', Good Lookin'?

Chapter 3: I Wanna Be With You Everywhere*

Chapter 4: Add You To My List*

Chapter 5: You're The One That I Want*

Chapter 6: Dinosaurs, Dates and Diners, Oh My!*

Chapter 7: School's Out for Summer*

Chapter 8: My Favorite Cowboy*

Chapter 8.5: 007- Peña, Agent Peña*

Chapter 9: I Promise*

Chapter 10: Happy Birthday, Javi*

Pt. 1*

Pt. 2*

Chapter 11: Abe Froman, Sausage King of Chicago *

Chapter 12: I Love You. I Know. *

Chapter 13: There's No Place Like Home*

Chapter 14: Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas*

Chapter 15: She Shoots, She Scores*

Chapter 16: The Lone Star State*

Chapter 17: No Ifs, Ands, Or Butts*

Chapter 18: Hole in None*

Chapter 19: Good Luck, and Goodnight*

Chapter 20: I Do

Pt. 1*

Pt. 2*

Spin-Off Series:

Forever and Always*: Slices of life following the Peña family after their first child

One Shots (In chronological order of the main storyline):

Movie Night*

Dirty Laundry*

Again*

You're My Home*

Not Yet*

Happy Valentine's Day, Javier Peña*

The Mouse and the Motorcycle

You Make Life Worth It

Take Me Home

Plaid Pajama Morning

Agent Peña*

Every Inch*

Soup for Breakfast

Whatever My Wife Wants*

Oh, Baby

Peanut Butter and Pickles

Asks/Headcannons:

Javi and Osita before work

Javi's DEA Jacket

Javi's Tac Vest

Javi and Osita when they argue

Javi being distractingly cute

Javi when he's sick

Osita when she's pregnant

Osita after a bad day at work

Javi coming home after work to his kids

Extras:

NSFW Alphabet- Javi and Osita

1K Followers Celebration Asks and Answers

Never Too Late Playlist

Mood board

birthday masterlist <3

i don't know about you, but i'm feeling 22 !!

for my birthday i wanted to put together a mini masterlist of my favourite works xx

we don't play about halloween

max verstappen

max doesn’t play about three things: formula one, his cats and his girlfriend’s love for halloween

friendship bracelets

charles leclerc

charles' gf is beloved in the fandom for her love for frienship bracelets

cherry lip balm

oscar piastri

the verstappen siblings run motorsport, but the youngest's f1 allegiances may belong elsewhere

ultimate wing man

daniel ricciardo

y/n is notoriously single, and her dad decides to take it into his own hands.

big time rush

lando norris

so how is alex albon and sorority rush connected? how is lando involved? and will the grid ever understand the greek system?

nine lives

alex albon

one of the many albon pets has to take a quick trip to the vet and maybe, just maybe, it comes with love at first sight

tight knit

charles leclerc

spa 2021, where a knitting hobby comes in handy

into the arms of another

one / two / three / four

max verstappen

after charles leaves her out in the cold, y/n falls into the arms of another.

peas in a pod

oscar piastri

y/n and george russell may be twins, but they’re hardly two peas in a pod and oscar is just there for the ride

head in the clouds

lando norris

there's no one more attractive than the stranger at the same gate as you at the airport and sometimes that stranger works on your best friend's private jet.

signed up for life

lewis hamilton

f1 finally introduces a sign language interpretor to their media team

kiss it better

oscar piastri

when oscar crashes into the barrier at monza, he thinks he sees his guardian angel, in reality he's just got a concussion and that's a first responder, but it's the thought that counts.

you and me got a whole lotta history

charles leclerc

y/n is a historian and it’s not her fault her bf’s job takes him all around the world…

mamma mia

mamma mia / no more ace to play / honey, honey / age of no regret / a wonderful thing

sebastian vettel, jenson button & fernando alonso

what the hell is in the water in greece? why are pregnancy tests so expensive and why does seb name his vehicles like that?

also i am still working on requests, i have returned home and am just finishing my freelance work xx

buy me a ko-fi?

「 take her under your wing AU 」

warnings: innocent!reader x various, stepbro!steve rogers, bucky barnes, professor!peter parker, professor!reed richards, ari levinson, marc spector, ransom drysdale, curtis everett, lloyd hansen, andy barber, thor odinson, scott lang, miguel o'hara, frank castle, billy russo, dark content, essentially everyone is soft!dark, college au, polyamory, idk what to tell you this is just porn

polls for this au

asks about the au

101, an intro to the au | pinterest board

masterlist | join my taglist 

FICS:

the many firsts

something in return

locked out

i dare you

what i say goes

too big

the basement

REQUESTS:

gaming + intox kink (headcanons)

billy & frank catch you discovering billy’s toy collection (headcanons)

desperate to help (headcanons)

curtis helps you fall asleep (headcanons)

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