Linz’s Favorite Fics

[all writings below the cut] talk to me here prompt list here -----

(+ means smut)

red flags | charles leclerc +

last call | max verstappen

chasing fate | lance stroll blindsided | lance stroll

death of me | carlos sainz +

blurbs & drabbles

the better series (7 parts) | pierre gasly, lando norris (triangle) +

6 to 1 series (12 parts) | lando norris x leclerc!reader + lover x 6 to 1 (sequel based off the lover tracklist)

disapproval | mick schumacher x leclerc!reader part 2 hard truths  part 3 the good guy

fragile line | daniel ricciardo x driver!reader + part 2 haunted part 3 gone part 4 long live

say don't go | charles leclerc x reader part 2 | now that we don't talk

sky's on fire (work in progress) | pierre gasly, charles leclerc (triangle)

pierre gasly

worlds collide | famous!reader x pierre simp | reader x pierre

charles leclerc

soft (dog) launch | korean influencer!reader x charles  quarantine | reader x charles not good enough | filipina!reader x charles muse | singer/songwriter!reader x charles the people's princess | princess!reader x charles

mick schumacher

in you i trust | reader x mick

- all social media au's charles leclerc x secret admin  daniel ricciardo x secret admin lando norris x secret admin lewis hamilton x secret admin  lance stroll x secret admin max verstappen x secret admin

bye bye baby ☆ dr3

genre: angst

word count: 2.5k

inspired by this !

cherry here!... the req was to write about danny boy, but the concept of this was that i was feeling very dramatic, per usual, duh. wrote this today since i’ve had bye bye baby stuck on REPEAT. 2 posts in 1 day, YIKES. enjoy! :)

The ups and downs that take place in your relationship once Daniel is left without an F1 seat. 

“What do you mean you’re out?”

Furiously, Daniel unzips his fireproofs as he ties the sleeves around his waist. He rummages through his duffel bag, growing more and more impatient, then takes a cautious step forward when you hand him his water bottle. “Thanks,” he lowly mutters and takes a long sip. The Australian shakes his head and looks blankly towards the white wall. “They want someone younger. More talented.”

“But you’re talented, Daniel! You’re better than anyone here!”

Letting out a weak smile, he angles himself lower to hug you before pulling away and brushing your hair behind your ear. “No, I don’t think I am anymore.”

That was two months ago when news came out that your boyfriend would no longer be driving for McLaren. It was a complete shock, considering everyone loved the bubbly Australian, but it honestly didn’t hurt anyone more than it did you. Often, he would remind you that he was the one left without a seat and that you should be glad you would both have some time to disconnect and be together. 

Your shake your head as you munch grumpily on a stack of pancakes. “I love that you’re around—of course I do—but what they did to you was completely unfair. Who in their right mind expects good results for a shit car? That’s their fault, not yours.”

He lets out a smile. “Relax, baby. I get it. You don’t want me around.” Sharp eyes narrow as you fling a pair of gloves at his chest, from his recent addiction to dirt biking. Don’t even, you warn. He lets out a sigh, then he opens his mouth for you to pop in a bite. Digging your fork on a piece of pancake, you raise your arm up to feed him. He hums at the taste. “I was kidding, but seriously— it's okay. I’ll get over it. You should, too.”

As much as he said he was doing fine, you knew something wasn’t right. He was hurt, felt betrayed, and it did him no good to keep rejecting his feelings. But you didn’t bring up the topic anymore. You knew he didn’t like the reminder of what once was.

-

Dirt crunches underneath your boots as you walk up to him and Scotty. The Australians are hunched over, trying their best to fix their bikes as they share a bottle of cheap beer underneath the blazing sun. The twenty-nine year old spots you first as he squints his blue eyes. You’re up early. You flip him off as you pretend to kick a pile of dirt towards him. He comedically raises his arms as he wiggles his brows. “Chloe is looking for you. I think she’s gonna beat your ass.” 

He quickly stands up as he blows a deep breath directly to your boyfriend's face. You cringe. They share a quick look before Daniel shoots a thumbs up. “You’re good.” Thanking him, Scotty rushes past you as he hands you his left over beer. Making your way over to the brunette, you take a seat next to him as you spill the remaining dark liquid.

“Isn’t it too early to be drinking?”

“Isn’t it too early to be looking so beautiful?”

You muster a glare. “Don’t change the subject, Daniel.” Avoiding eye contact, he just keeps his tired gaze entertained on an Acacia tree. Bringing the bottle up to his lips, he lets out a low whistle. It’s hot. A cold beer helps. “Right,” you mumble as you flicker your own eyes towards the green tree. You can still spot it—your initials and his engraved. He had done it one evening when he and Scotty had one too many drinks. He had stumbled all the way just to drag you and show you. Because I love you. Even when I’m drunk, I love you like crazy.

“Trees getting old. Might be time to cut it down.”

You flinch at his words. “Can I have a sip?” He raises his brows as he hands you the bottle. You just had one, he tries to joke as he watches the way you chug it down. Drying your lips, you crane your neck to look up at the blue sky. “You never minded sharing before.” He can distinguish the way your voice sounds—as if you’re upset over something he might’ve said—but he knows he hasn’t done anything wrong. Standing up, you hand him back the glass bottle.

“Cut the tree. I don’t care.”

-

“And to my beautiful girlfriend—you’re everything to me and I love you. Without a doubt, the best birthday present I could ever ask for.” Raising his Coca-Cola can, the brown eyed boy sends you a wink with a bright smile plastered across his face. A face you’ve grown to recognize. The one you love.

Making his way over, he throws his arms over your shoulders as he rocks you side to side. You smile against his chest. “How does it feel to be thirty-four? Do you have bad knees already?” He lets out a toothy grin and he slaps your ass. “It’s just a question!”

“My knees are fine. As long as I can still kneel down in front of you—that’s all that matters, no?”

You blush at his words as you jokingly push him away. This only makes him cling onto you harder. Squinting your eyes up at him, you trace heart shapes against his biceps. You sincerely feel the happiest you’ve felt in ages. This is the Daniel you knew like the back of your hand. “I was thinking maybe we can take a trip. Anywhere, really. To celebrate—"

“My birthday?” He beams. “This is why you’re the sweetest girlfriend in the entire world!” No problem, you shyly respond as you pinch his t-shirt in between your fingers. Kissing you one last time, he excuses himself to go welcome some late-comers. Chole zig zags her way over to you as she gives you a side hug.

“How’d it go?”

You sigh. “He forgot. He completely forgot. I don’t think I can entirely blame him—I mean, it is his birthday.” The fact that you have to defend him makes the blonde furrow her dark brows. Shaking her head, she hands you a slice of chocolate cake.

“Never in a million years did your guys’ anniversary slip his mind. What a dick.”

But you’re not even listening. You’re too flabbergasted that he cut his cake without you being there with him. 

-

Whether it was a trip to Vermont for his birthday or your anniversary, it didn’t really matter, because you loved every second. It’s almost like he needed this break. To do something different that didn’t feel like a forced routine. You went hiking, apple picking, to a million bars that only served barbecue ribs—and you never felt more at peace.

Handing you a bouquet of flowers, he kneels down in front of you. You roll your eyes as you take the colorful peonies from him—though inside you were shaking like a seventeen year old getting her first glimpse of love. “What’s this for?” He shrugs as he takes a seat next to you.

“Just because.”

Those were your favorite types of flowers. Intertwining his fingers with yours, you both continue chatting about anything and everything that crossed your mind. As you both pass by a peach tree, he lets go of your hand as he brings up his camera with sudden determination. Stand right there, baby.

Trying to express your happiness as best as you can, you hug your gift close to your face as you smile so wide, your eyes nearly shut. 

“You’re mind blowing,” he murmurs as he snaps the picture. He takes a moment to admire you as you jog over to him. Show me! He clicks his tongue. “It’s digital. You’re gonna have to wait.” You pout as you pinch his cheek. Bringing your hand up to his mouth, he presses warm kisses.

“I have something to tell you.” Your heart stops, suddenly filled with anxiety as he smiles with giddiness. What is it? “I’m going to be driving again! I mean, it completely sucks for Nyck, but I’m just so happy to get back into an F1 car.”

“Nyck? As in the Alpha Tauri driver?” 

He nods. “I got the call last month—a few days after my birthday. Best present ever.” Once again, his words cut you deep without him even noticing. Nevertheless, you force a tight smile.

“I’m so happy for you, Danny. You’re finally getting what you’ve wanted for so long.”

-

When you both get back to Australia, it surprises you a bit how normal things have stayed. He’s smiling more—if that was ever even possible—he’s laughing louder, too. Roaming the house, you rub your eyes from sleepiness. Scotty and Chloe share a laugh when they spot you. “And Sleeping Beauty has finally woken. I didn’t think that was possible.” Chloe smacks his chest as she sends you a wink.

“Humor me, why don’t you?” Your gaze flickers across the living room. “Where’s Danny?” 

“Outside.” 

Sliding the door open, you step out as you try your best to adjust your eyesight to the bright sun. As soon as it does, your stomach drops. You run up to the brunette as you pull the ax from him.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Startled, he jumps up as he takes his earphones out. “Holy shit. You scared me, don’t do that!” Tears fill your eyes as you analyze the chopped tree. You’re no expert, but you can tell that there’s no going back. The only result that comes out of this would be for it to come crashing down. He rushed over with panic, checks you everywhere to make sure you weren’t hurt. You brush him off.

“Why would you do this?”

He cocks his head to the side, brown eyes filled with confusion. “I’m so lost, what did I do?” Anger bubbles up inside of you as you force yourself to not scream at him. “You’re okay, so why are you crying? Oh no. Did Scotty wake you up again? I told him not to do that anymore.”

“I’m done.” You wipe your tears as you let out a bitter laugh. “I am so done.”

“What do you mean you’re done?”

“I’m saying I give up! Fuck, I give up. That’s it. You win. I just —can't.”

He tries to take a step closer, but you only distance yourself twice as much. “You’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

“I’ve tried so hard to understand you, I really did, but I’m just as tired as you are, okay? I tried to ease your pain when McLaren let you go, but you kept pushing me away. I tried to be there for you on days you felt like nothing, but to me you were always everything. I tried to not let you see how much it hurt me when you forgot our five year anniversary. I tried to not act like it bothered me when you cut the cake I spent hours baking for you, without me. I tried to not act surprised when I found out you kept the news from me about you returning to F1 for one fucking month. But I can’t try and pretend that you cutting down this tree hasn’t broken my heart.”

“It’s just a stupid, old tree—"

“I don’t think you understand! It may be old, and it sure as hell could be stupid, but it was ours.” You grab his hand harshly as you drag him to the other side of the tree. His eyes grow wide. I didn’t remember—I swear I forgot that was even there! You let out a wet laugh as you toss your hair over your shoulder. “You’re hurting me, Daniel. Can’t you see?”

“You’re the one who said I should cut it down. You can’t seriously just be blaming me.”

“And who came up with the idea first?” 

He lowers his gaze as he runs his left hand against his clenched jaw. “I’m sorry.” He connects his desperate eyes to your glossy ones. “But don’t say all those things, please. You’re right. I’ve been an awful boyfriend, but no one understands me better than you.” Placing his hands on either side of your face, he lets out soft pants. “You’re everything to me, how could you have possibly felt that way? I love you.”

“Love me like what?” He furrows his brows as he searches for an answer. You scrunch your nose as you push his hands down. “I thought you loved me like crazy.” His stomach churns. “Listen, I love you, Daniel. I love you so fucking much, but even I can see that I’m not your happiness anymore. Not the way I used to be, at least. You have other priorities, other plans—”

“No, you’re my priority. You always have been.”

“Except I haven’t. For a moment, you went radio silent. It was a one-sided relationship, but I loved you so much that I stayed. I pushed past it. Then—one random day— your smile came back. You were insanely happy and I thought...” You shut your eyes. You can feel the salty tears trickle down your face. “I thought it was because of me. Now I realize, it hasn’t been about me for a while now. It’s so obvious that the only reason you were cheerful once again was because you got what you wanted. You got a seat.”

“You’re wrong—"

“I’m not.” You let out a shaky breath as you bite down on your lip, a weak attempt to not let out loud sobs. “I would have gladly taken part in your pain, but you never let me in. You never let me get close enough to help you out.” Making your way up to him slowly, you tippy toe as you lean in for a kiss. What hurts the most is that all of a sudden—he’s kissing you the exact same way he did when he first told you that he loved you. He was giving it his all. Pulling away, you let out a low whimper as you feel your chin tremble. Your smile wobbles. “Can’t force something that’s not there anymore, can you?”

Taking him in one last time, you rub his forearm as you gently pat it before you walk away. Daniel feels paralyzed as he watches you go. He’s expecting you to turn around at least one last time and he’s expecting his body to let him run after you, but neither of those things happen.

Hesitantly, Chloe and Scotty make their way to their frozen friend. They had heard the fight, but decided it was best to not intervene. 

“She left.”

The couple share a concerned look as they take in the weak tree that was clearly about to fall at any moment. Chloe sighs, then walks away, making a beeline to find you. Though, she knows you better than anyone. You weren’t going to return. And she completely understood why.

Scotty takes a step back and shakes his head in disbelief. 

“She fucking loved that tree.”

Masterlist

Lando Norris

One shots

Yeah | 0.8K

Summary: You find it difficult to let people in. Maybe you should date someone you already know?

First Date | 1.1K

Summary: You're at the club with your friends when you spot the prettiest man you've ever seen. When he notices you and asks you out on a date, it's no surprise you say yes – even though your nerves almost get the better of you.

Panic at the Disco | 1.3K Part 2 | 2.4K

Summary: When you call your brother to pick you up from the club, it's his best friend who answers.

Dutch Courage | 2.9K

Summary: When Max Verstappen invites Lando to celebrate King’s Day with him, he can hardly refuse. Especially when it’s a great opportunity to spend time with the Dutch man’s sister.

Win & Woo | 3.1K

Summary: Congratulating Lando after his first race win is a lot more difficult than you expected. When you finally get the chance to, he reacts differently than you anticipated.

Kiss and Make Up | 5.0K

Summary: You used to get along with your brother’s best friend, but at some point, it all changed. Lando’s rude comments frustrate you to no end, and your brother is fed up with your complaints. Max only sees one solution: you need to make up.

Happy Anniversary! | 4.8K

Summary: When Lando forgets the date of your anniversary, you can get over it. However, the pressure of his job isn’t a good enough reason to excuse all of his forgetful tendencies and lack of attention for you.

Charles Leclerc

One shots

Awkward Advances | 2.1K

Summary: You are best friends with Alex Albon. When you go to the bar with him and his driver friends, you decide to shoot your shot. But with the amount of drinks consumed, it doesn't go as smoothly as planned.

Oblivious | 2.4K

Summary: Charles has been blatantly flirting with Y/N for months, but she's the only one who hasn't noticed.

Strategy to Your Heart | 4.3K

Summary: Ferrari hasn’t been doing well in the races lately, and Charles has only 1 person he can blame for the bad strategies: you.

middle man — arthur leclerc

pairing. arthur leclerc x ferrari driver!fem!reader

summary. you never set out to date your teammate's brother. in fact, it took arthur months just to convince you to go on a single date, but charles' opinion of you hit an all time low after he became aware of your relationship and nothing you did seemed to help mend your previously strong partnership. when charles takes it a step too far, you decide that you’ve had enough of it. 6.7k, 18+

warnings. injury, descriptions of injury, smut, dom/sub dynamic (sub!reader), fingering (fem receiving), impact play, penetrative sex, mirror sex

. . .

The slightest of contact was all it took. That was all it ever took. One second, you were making the overtake for P2, and the next, you were in the wall.

There was barely time to brace. Barely any time to hit the brakes. Reaction time was trained, drilled, conditioned into you until it became second nature. Thank god it was, otherwise, you might not have walked away from this one.

Your ears were ringing when you opened you eyes after impact. Your vision was swimming but you were conscious. You heard the cadence of the question in your ear more than you could actually understand the words being said.

Are you okay? Y/N, are you okay?

You weren't really sure if you were but your mind went to those that were watching the race, your fans, your team, your family, your friends. Arthur. They needed to hear you say that you were okay. The gritty details could come later.

"I'm good. We're good. That was a rough one, huh?"

You're sure that the pain was still evident in your voice. It was unavoidable after however many Gs of force you just withstood in that crash. You turned the engine off, took a moment to center yourself.

You had crashed. You were a Formula One driver. It was the Azerbaijan Grand Prix, the fourth race of your second season with Ferrari after your Haas contract expired two years ago.

Your boyfriend's name was Arthur Leclerc. Privately (and jokingly), you called him Artie because it made him cringe and you thought it was funny. He was your teammate's little brother.

He was the first person to make it to the circuit medical center after you had been loaded into the medical car. He was shaking as he hugged you, not from fear but from restraint, not wanting to hurt you by squeezing you as tightly as he wanted to.

"You are okay? Tell me you are okay."

"I'm fine, baby."

"I could strangle Max Verstappen sometimes. 'Leave the space' must only apply to others."

"Arthur, it's okay. It's just part of the sport."

He looked you over for a moment more before catching your mouth in a searing kiss. It spoke volumes, and you understood exactly what he meant by it.

I deeply respect your love of the sport but I would burn the FIA and the whole world to the ground if it meant keeping you safe.

"I love you," he said when he pulled back.

"Je t'aime," you returned.

That exchange of I love you's in your and Arthur's respective native languages of English and French had been a staple of your relationship since very early on. Your first "I love you" had been in each other's mother tongue. It had stuck ever since.

“Are you sure you are okay?”

“Yes,” you insisted, “A little dizzy, but okay.”

“Dizzy? You did not say you were dizzy.” That was the doctor that had checked you for any signs of a concussion.

You turned to face her. “Yes, but I had—“

You lost your balance as you turned. Your typical coordination escaped you and Arthur had to catch you to stop you from tipping sideways.

The doctor pulled out a phone. “I’m calling an ambulance. You’re going to the hospital.”

“I’m fine—“

“Mon coeur, please sit down,” Arthur urged.

Your calm but obviously worried boyfriend refused to leave your side even when it meant leaving for the hospital before the end of the race. You tried to convince him to stay for his brother but he wasn’t having it.

In the hospital room after you had completed all the precautionary brain scans, Arthur checked his phone.

"Maman is asking about you," he said. "Lorenzo, too."

You both took note of the lack of another of his family member’s text message, but you had grown all too used to it. It was easier not to comment on it.

"Tell them I'm fine."

"I will tell them we are waiting on your test results."

"Don’t worry them. I’m fine, Arthur.”

"We will know that once they have gotten their results."

Arthur had a very convincing poker face but this needless argument showed how concerned he truly was. He kept worrying his bottom lip between his teeth whenever he thought you weren’t looking.

You tugged on your intertwined hands to pull him closer. “Hey. I’ll be fine. It’s probably just a concussion.”

“You cannot know.”

“Then, call it positive thinking.”

Before anything more could be said, the doctor returned with the results of your tests.

You were okay, only a concussion as you had thought. You had a fair amount of bruising and a bit of whiplash to commemorate one of the worst crashes of your career but other than that, you seemed fine.

They still wanted to keep you overnight for observation but you should recover in a timely fashion.

When the doctor left, you only had time to shoot Arthur an “I told you so” look before his phone started ringing. The caller ID showed his second eldest brother’s name.

He answered in French, a language you knew almost fluently after living in Monaco since your rookie season. You had really buckled down to learn the language after beginning to date Arthur.

“Hello? ... I am at the hospital with Y/N. … I know but congratulations on third. Sorry I missed the celebrations.”

You couldn’t hear what Charles was saying, only your boyfriend’s responses. It was now over two hours since the end of the race. Charles must have only just gotten time to call Arthur.

“I know I am, but Y/N was dizzy and the doctor was concerned and I couldn’t just leave her. … She is part of Ferrari, too. I have a duty to both her and the team. … I was not needed at the garage. … And I said I’m sorry I missed your podium but I wasn’t going to leave her alone. What if something happened?”

You sunk back into your hospital bed. They were fighting again. Because of you.

You and Charles had been rookies together back in 2018. You had started your F1 career at Williams before moving through Haas to where you were now, your second year at Ferrari.

You were a handful of years younger than Charles and he had always treated you like a little sister. When you got the Ferrari contract, Charles was over the moon. You remember him going on a half hour tangent about how much fun it would be having you as a teammate, how excited he was for the next two years.

Charles adored you. At least, he used to, before you and Arthur told him you had started seeing each other.

Since then, Ferrari has been a minefield.

Charles was distant and cold. He stopped sending TikToks and stopped laughing at your memes. He unfollowed you on Instagram for about a week before the Ferrari PR team made him follow you again.

The PR department was working well past overtime thanks to you and Charles. You had learned not to try and approach him even when there were cameras around because he would continue to ignore you and it would further fuel the drama mill.

You missed your friend. You missed the fun you two had last year as teammates.

Now, you were with Arthur. And you loved him. And he made you so happy. But you missed being able to talk to Charles without him looking at you like you were the gum on the bottom of his shoe.

Arthur’s voice had gotten sharper the longer he spoke to Charles. “Not that you bothered to ask but Y/N is fine, by the way. We had to go to the hospital to scan her brain and make sure but she would be. Not like you’d care.”

Arthur hung up and tossed his phone onto a table where he couldn’t reach it. You reached out for his hand and he took it, kissing your knuckles and sighing deeply.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly.

“Do not apologize. This is not your fault.”

“It feels like it is.”

“It is not. It is Charles being impossible for no reason. Before we were dating, he—“

He adored you. He called you mon ange. He praised your driving any time he could. He invited you to dinners with his family, which was how you got to know Arthur outside of racing.

Now, Charles couldn’t stand the sight of you. It hurt, you weren’t going to lie. Charles was your teammate and friend, but more importantly, he was Arthur’s brother.

You didn’t feel it was your place to try and close the gap gouged between you and Charles, not when he was Arthur’s family. You didn’t want to complicate things further, didn’t want to try and repair your friendship before the bond between brothers was mended.

“Maybe…”

You lacked the confidence to continue your thought. You didn’t want to suggest what you were about to, even if it could potentially fix everything.

You were selfish when it came to Arthur. You didn’t like sharing him and you especially didn’t want to let him go.

“What?” Arthur asked.

“Maybe we should take a break.”

“What? No? No. Why? No. Why would you want to—? Have I done something wrong? Why would you say that?”

You were quick to reassure him. “No, no, no, baby, it’s not that. I was just thinking that it might be a good idea to take a bit of time and come back to this in the off season. When Charles can separate me as your girlfriend from me as his teammate.”

“No,” he insisted. “No. I do not want him to ruin this any more than he already has. I do not want to take a break.”

“Okay. That’s okay. It was just a suggestion.” One that you were thankful Arthur objected to so vehemently.

“It is a dumb suggestion. I do not want a break. I will never want a break from you.”

“Okay.”

You let him lean in and kiss you. It seemed that Arthur was selfish with you, as well.

.

You were no stranger to Charles Leclerc’s yacht. You had spent many nights attending parties hosted by your friend on his impressive vessel and even more days lounging around or exploring islands along the Monaco coast.

But ever since Charles found out about you and Arthur, you hadn’t been invited back. Until the weekend between races, a week after your crash.

And you hadn’t exactly been invited, it was more that Charles had been told by his mother that you would be spending the day with the family and there was no getting out of it. Though, as the day stretched on and tensions grew higher, you were really wishing that you were the one who could have gotten out of going.

Your concussion wasn’t as severe as originally feared. Your ribs were still tender and the skin of your torso bruised but you were set to race at Miami next week as long as your checkup in a few days went well.

Arthur sat down beside you on the large daybed you had taken to reading on. It was shaded and secluded enough to be comfortable but not so far from the main seating area that you couldn’t easily rejoin the larger group. It was where you had usually set up camp whenever aboard Charles’ yacht.

Your boyfriend handed you the fizzy, non-alcoholic beverage you had requested. He accepted a kiss as gratuity.

“What are you reading?”

“One of those spicy fantasy novels you make fun of me for.”

“Oh, the porn books.”

“They’re not porn books!”

Arthur just laughed because he liked teasing you. He laid his head in your lap. You, of course, let him because you were not actually upset.

You smoothed the hair off his forehead lovingly.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked.

“I’m okay.”

“You’re not hurting?”

“No. I’ve been doing my stretches and using bruise cream. I’ll be right as rain next weekend.”

Arthur seemed pleased with that answer. “Will you read to me?”

You regarded the content on the page you were open to. “I’m not exactly at a publicly appropriate chapter.”

“Am I not a better option than ink on paper?”

“You are not always readily available.”

“You are far more busy than me. You are always away from me.”

“Exactly. I need something to do with all my free time in my hotel room. All alone. Just me. And my hands all over… my latest smutty book.”

“You kill me, woman,” Arthur groaned, sitting up to kiss you.

You let out a peel of laughter when Arthur pushed you onto your back. You two were not in the habit of making your close friends and family uncomfortable with excessive PDA, so Arthur abandoned kissing you to pin you down, gentle and conscientious of your torso.

“Okay! Okay, you’re better!”

Arthur leaned down over you. “Better than what?”

“You’re better than my books.”

“Good.”

He kissed you, then wiggled his fingers against your neck to make you shriek.

“Arthur, Y/N. Come eat!” Pascale called the two of you over to the group.

Arthur helped you sit up, then held out a hand to help you down the steps to the deck below because god forbid you take the three stairs on your own. You didn’t mind; you liked that he wanted to help you, even with things you didn’t need him for.

You smiled at Arthur, able to forget about the Leclerc civil war for a moment. Then, you turned toward where everyone else was sitting in the main seating area.

Charles was glaring daggers.

Your stomach dropped. You pulled your hand free from Arthur’s to fix your hair then didn’t take it again when you were done.

Arthur looked at you odd, noticed where you were glancing. He glared back just as hard at his older brother.

“Arthur,” you muttered in reproach.

“If maman was not here, I swear I would smack him across the face.”

“Arthur, please.”

After the race in Azerbaijan was over, after podium celebrations and post-race interviews, Charles had spoken a little too loudly about how it was your fault that you had crashed, that it was what happened when you "still drive like a rookie five years into your career."

The video that some random clubgoer had managed to capture of your teammate badmouthing you while you spent the night in the hospital for observation had gone more than a little viral.

To hear him talk about you like that just made you sad. You didn't have the energy to be mad over it.

Arthur did not share those feelings. When he first saw the video, it was everything you could do to keep Arthur from charging halfway across Monaco to kick his brother's door in. Instead, you anxiously sat on the couch in your living room as he and his brother shouted at each other over the phone.

If it wasn't for Pascale's not at all subtle attempts to get her boys to make up, you and Arthur never would have come today. But she was your boyfriend's mother. She would not accept a refusal of her invitation for today.

You ended up sat beside Arthur and about as far from Charles as possible as sandwiches and chips were passed around. You kept making eye contact with Pascale, awkwardly smiling whenever you did before glancing away.

"Charles, do you have any more wine on this boat?" Pascale asked.

Charles stood. "I'll go get some."

"Arthur, why don't you help your brother?"

You held your breath. You truly admired the balls on that woman, and the unapologetically obvious pursuit of making her sons make up. When you glanced at Arthur, almost hopeful, you saw the dark edge to his gaze as he looked at his brother; he was still too angry to be left alone with Charles.

You didn't believe Arthur would actually slap or physically harm Charles in any way but things would not be made better by Arthur confronting his brother right now.

"I'll help," you said before Arthur had to respond. "Lead the way, Charlie."

You false enthusiasm shriveled into nothingness by the time you reached the stairs down to the bar. You trailed after him below deck, staying several paces behind.

Charles was silent as he began opening cupboards. He hadn't so much as looked at you when you took his younger brother's place in assisting him.

"Charles, I—"

"I do not want to hear it, Y/N."

You swallowed around the nervousness trying to clog up your throat. "Are you ever going to let me explain?"

"There is nothing to explain. You are my teammate. Arthur is my brother. You both go behind my back to start dating each other and do not care of what it will affect."

"Believe me, we've talked about it. At length. We know it's a risk."

"And you do not care," Charles concluded, ducking down below the bar and out of view as he continued his search.

"No, we decided it was worth it." You took a breath. "I don't know how to talk about how in love with your brother I am without making you uncomfortable but if I had to choose between him and racing, I would hesitate."

That statement may not sound all that impressive but Charles had once said to you—after many, many drinks following a successful race weekend for Ferrari—that he would know he truly loved a woman if when he had to choose between her and never racing again, he hesitated.

As a fellow driver, you understood exactly what he meant. That was what you felt for Arthur. That was what the youngest Leclerc meant to you. That was how hopelessly in love you were.

"I love Arthur, I really do. And I know it's messy and complicated and whatever else but I don't care about that. At the end of the day, I am happier with Arthur than I have been in a really long time."

Charles was silent behind the bar. He was still ducked down. It felt like you were monologuing to an empty room. It made it a little easier to continue.

"While I am willing to put a little strain on my career for my relationship, what I have never wanted to put strain on is your relationship with your brother. I never wanted anything like this to happen.

“I never wanted to go behind your back. I never would have pursued my feelings for Arthur if he hadn’t been so persistent but he wore me down and I couldn’t tell him no.

“I am truly sorry for breaking your trust. But I cannot stop loving your brother. I will not let him go just because you cannot accept us, despite all the difficulties it may come with.”

Two bottles of wine appeared on the bar top just before Charles stood upright again. He still would not look at you.

"If you can't forgive me for pursuing a member of your family, that's fine. I understand. But Arthur is your little brother; do not throw that away because of me.

"Hate me. Be mad at me. Ignore me on media days. Unfollow all my socials. Make the entire world think you despise me. I don't care; just don't take it out on Arthur.

"I am not worth you two falling out."

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Charles finally looked you in the eye. You held his gaze, imploring him to listen to what you were saying.

His expression did not change the longer he surveyed you. Then, he took the bottles of wine, walked right past you without another word, and went back above deck.

.

"That is it?" Arthur asked as you recounted the events to him later that night.

He was sat on the lid of the toilet as you washed your face before you two were going to settle in to watch a movie.

"Then, I told him I'm not worth you two falling out over and he walked away. Without a word. Just back up the stairs and that was that."

"You are."

"Are what?"

"Worth falling out over."

You sighed. "Arthur—"

"You are. I am serious."

"Arthur, I'm not going anywhere. You don’t have to choose between me and Charles; I don’t want you to.”

“I am not losing you because of him.”

“I’m not asking you to compromise. I’m not letting you go because of Charles, either, but we have to try and make this work. He’s your brother. That has to mean something to you.”

“He is being unreasonable.”

“Have you even tried to talk to him about it? Or have you just been pretending nothing’s changed?”

“Nothing has changed," he said stubbornly.

“Okay, that's one of the problems."

"It should not matter that we're dating."

"No, it should. And it does. I'm dating my teammate's brother; that is going to change some things. You do recall the HR meeting all of us had to suffer through, don't you?"

Shortly after telling Charles of your relationship, you and Arthur had gone to Ferrari to make them aware as well. There had been no major backlash from the team but there had been a several-hours-long meeting with HR and PR that you, Arthur, and Charles all had to be present for.

Arthur physically shuddered at the memory. "Do not remind me."

"Us being together changes things. You cannot ignore it and hope everything will blow over."

"He hasn't even apologized to you."

"Worry about me later. Fix your relationship with your brother before it's too late."

"Y/N, you are not understanding. I cannot fix my relationship with Charles if he is going to speak of you like he did in that video. If he is going to treat you like he has been, nothing is going to be fixed."

"He's your brother—"

"And you are l'amour de ma vie. I do not care that he is my brother; I will not tolerate anyone speaking of you in such a way. I cannot remove you from the situation. I cannot make up with him until he stops treating you horrible.”

You had not realized Arthur’s view on the whole situation. You supposed it made sense now that you thought about it.

Charles was generally being mean to you, not his brother. When the two youngest Leclercs argued, it was over you. Charles seemed convinced that you would never prioritize Arthur or his career over yourself or your own.

True, you would never give up your seat for Arthur, but you wouldn’t do that for anyone. Should the time ever come where Arthur got an F1 seat, you would never give him anything; he would have to work just as hard as anyone else to race against you. That was racing.

You do not think that Charles meant anything to that extreme of a degree. He perhaps meant that Arthur would seldom be prioritized in place of a career in F1, period, but you and Arthur were on the same page about that.

You had spoken in length about it. You had laid everything on the table a few months into your relationship and spoke about it all until you reached a true and total understanding.

And Charles… Well, Charles would always see Arthur as his baby brother, as someone to protect, as someone who is young and unknowing of the world even if he was snugly into his twenties.

“You need to speak to him. Really speak to him. Talk everything through.”

“He needs to apologize, first. Then, and only then, will I talk things out.”

“You are. So. Stubborn,” you growled at him, jokingly pretending to choke him in your frustration.

“If I was not, how would I keep you in check?”

He slid his hand right up under your oversized sleep shirt to hold your core in his palm. Your freshly washed face went a little pink.

“I don’t need to be kept in check,” you said indignantly.

“Don’t you? You always seem to find some way to misbehave and then I have to punish you for it. You know how I hate to punish you.”

“Don't lie. You love my punishments as much as I do.”

He rubbed his hand over the cloth of your panties, pushed his fingers between your closed thighs to prod over the fabric at where you had already started to ache for him. It took so little to get you worked up, just a few touches and some dirty words and you were ready to melt into any mold Arthur wanted.

“Backtalk.” He clicked his tongue at you. “Already misbehaving.”

“I’m debating my point. That is not misbehaving. You’re just being mean.”

“Keep talking and I can show you how mean I can be.”

“That’s not fair—“

You didn’t get to finish your thought before Arthur stood and pushed you against the bathroom counter. Your thighs dug into the edge of the counter as Arthur pressed against your back, hips nestled into the soft curve of your ass.

“Arthur—"

"Hm?"

He slowly slid your hair out of the way. The collar of your ancient sleep shirt was easily stretched to the side so Arthur could kiss the bare skin of his shoulder. His teeth bit into the curve of your neck just enough to feel but not hurt.

You whined, pushed your hips back into him. "Don't tease."

He slid a hand up to your neck, met your eye in the mirror. "Be patient."

He held you there until you nodded your understanding. Only then did he hitch the back of your shirt up to slip his hand inside your panties from behind.

He grabbed a handful of your ass. You exhaled a soft moan.

You hadn't been intimate since the Monday before the Azerbaijan GP, meaning it was pushing two weeks since Arthur had touched you. You were ready to fall apart and he hadn't even really touched you yet.

"Arthur, s'il te plaît."

In the mirror, you could see him smirk at your French. He had told you before that he liked when you spoke to him in French, that he thought your accent was cute.

You knew it was a totally indulgent way to get what you wanted but you didn't care; it worked. His fingers slid between your folds, feeling how slick and ready you were for him.

He cursed into your shoulder, slipping into French to say, "So wet for me—fuck, Y/N."

"Want you, baby. Please."

"Want me? Want me where?"

"Inside me."

"So lewd, mon coeur," he teased. "You're so needy tonight."

"You started it."

"And I will stop it if you are not grateful for what I am giving you."

He pulled his hand out of your underwear and you whined. You reached back to slide a hand into his hair.

"No, please, I'm sorry. Please, don't stop."

Arthur huffed out a laugh. "I will take care of you. You do not need to beg."

He pulled your panties down until you could kick them off to the side. He gently ran a hand over your stomach and ribs. Arthur was always conscientious of you, especially when you were injured.

"Can you bend over for me?"

You did so immediately, elbows coming to rest on the sink counter. Your shirt slid up off your hips to hang loosely around your waist. You felt your arousal hit the air in the bathroom, the chill making you shift your hips.

"So good for me. My good girl."

You could cry from the praise and the fact that his fingers still were not inside of you that exact second. You were embarrassingly worked up.

Arthur seemed to take pity on you, circling his thumb on your clit a few times before slipping a finger into you. Just one was nowhere near enough to fill you up but you dropped your head onto your arms and moaned.

He kissed your backside, knelt down behind you. "So noisy, amour."

Any snarky response you may have had died in your throat when he pressed a second finger into you. That was enough for a bit of a stretch that had you pushing your hips back against his hand.

"Stay still," Arthur warned.

You really did try to listen to him but after slowly scissoring you open with two fingers, he introduced a third and started really finger fucking you. You pressed your forehead against the counter, not able to stop yourself from pushing back into him again, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers, searching for something that would stretch you further, reach deeper into you.

He pulled his fingers out of you. Your whine was cut short when he slapped your bared cunt with the same soaked fingers that were just inside of you.

"You are so fucking impatient."

"Just want you."

"Yeah? You want me so bad you cannot even stay still and let me stretch you out? You want to be torn open by my cock?"

You whimpered. That was exactly what you wanted.

He slapped your pussy again. "Huh? Is that what you want?"

You raised your head just enough to be able to watch as Arthur pushed his shorts down. You couldn't see as he pulled his cock free with him stood behind you but you definitely felt it when he pressed his tip against your prepped entrance.

"Oh, fuck—"

He entered you in a swift motion. You choked around a moan.

He was gentle with his arms as he pulled you back against him but ruthless with his hips as he fucked into you without relent. He didn’t press on your bruised torso but he did get a hand around your throat to make you watch yourself in the mirror.

Your dynamic was like this. He was in charge and you loved that. He could hit you, fuck you hard, have you screaming, begging, crying, but where it truly mattered, he would always be gentle with you. His dominance was not just for him; he was always cognizant of your current state and how you were feeling in the moment.

“Arthur.” You breathed his name like a moan, like a prayer.

He kissed your neck, then your cheek. “So good for me.”

Arthur set the pace slow and deep. You could feel him nudging your cervix, stretching you open, the tug of your walls against his cock making you ache for him even more. You were a moaning mess for him in mere moments.

He coaxed you through your first orgasm like that, fucking you slowly from behind as you watched yourselves in the bathroom mirror, his hand between your thighs to push you along. Your legs shook and Arthur held you upright as he kept the torturous pace all the way through your climax.

“You have a bit more in you, amour. Yes?” he asked, still moving his hips as the continued stimulation was making you squirm.

You felt you could barely catch your breath but you nodded anyway. “Yes.”

Arthur hummed, pleased. “Good girl. Bend over.”

If your first orgasm was for you, the second was surely for Arthur. Sex was always a game of give and take with him. Though, even when he was taking, you were always being given so much.

As soon as he had you bent over again, he gripped your hips, adjusted his own, then started fucking into you fast and hard. You grabbed onto the counter to steady yourself, let your head drop onto the quartz as you went pliant and easy.

You were shaking from the overstimulation, from not getting a break between your first high and the second that Arthur was making you chase.

“Come on, amour. Come on.”

His pace was just uneven enough for you to become aware that he was definitely close. He was waiting for you.

His fingers found your clit again, rubbing out another wave of pleasure that had you trembling against the counter. Your head felt light, legs literally giving out and you would have fallen to your knees if Arthur wasn’t still gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, strong arming you into staying on your feet.

You cried his name and your body went slack. Arthur fucked you through your second high and past it, stroked himself out with your body and buried himself deep inside of you as he came.

You mewled at the feeling, at the depth and the spurting warmth. Arthur smoothed a hand up your spine to soothe you. He whispered praises and pressed kisses into your skin until you came back to Earth, getting your legs back underneath you.

"Welcome back, mon coeur."

You could hear the proud grin in his words but could only give a weak groan in response as you pushed yourself upright. Arthur helped you up, then sat you on the bathroom counter and kissed you sweetly before setting to cleaning you up.

He scooped you up into his arms once you were clean and dressed to carry you out to the living room.

"I can still walk," you told him but still happily wrapped your arms around his neck anyway, leaning against his chest.

"I'll have to do better next time, then."

Arthur set you on the couch. He told you to stay as he bustled around getting popcorn and drinks ready.

"What do you want to watch?" you asked.

"Whatever you want."

"Don't give me that kind of power," you mumbled to yourself.

You didn't giving in to the temptation to queue up some cringeworthy romcom you know Arthur would hate. He had given you enough tonight. You could be nice about the movie choice.

You made it through maybe half of the movie (some new Netflix film you thought looked decent) when there was a knock at the door. It was a soft noise, almost hesitant.

You shared a look with your boyfriend before you both checked your phones to make sure you hadn't missed a text from someone letting you know they were on their way over. You both came up blank.

Despite it being your apartment, Arthur pushed you down when you went to stand and ran to answer the door himself. You couldn't quite see the door from the couch, so you strained your ears to listen.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur asked, not quite unkindly but certainly not happy.

"I went to maman's. You were not there."

Charles. Why had he showed up at your door unannounced this late in the evening?

"I've been staying with Y/N most of the time."

Silence followed. It was painful just eavesdropping on the two brothers. You nearly got to your feet to approach them and attempt to mediate but Arthur beat you to it.

"What do you want, Charles?"

More silence. You don't think you were breathing, scared if you made yourself known it would ruin whatever was about to happen.

"I wanted to apologize," Charles eventually said.

"Apologize?"

You bit your cheek to stop from screeching with joy. Finally—finally! You were so ready for this whole thing to be over with. Even if it took some subtle guilt tripping on your part, you were more than pleased at the outcome.

"For how I've been treating you since you told me about you and Y/N. Is she here?"

"Yes."

"Yes, well, it is her apartment, no?" Charles tried for a weak laugh but Arthur did not take mercy and join him. "Er, well... I—I shouldn't have been so quick to judge you two. I was upset, at first, that you had hidden it from me.

"I forget that you are an adult and you have pursued your own career and you do not need protecting from people who might try to take advantage of you—not that I believe Y/N would do such a thing!"

You cringed. This could go downhill really fast considering Arthur's protective streak over you.

"Yes, I am an adult. How you feel will not dictate my relationship. But how you treat Y/N will dictate my relationship with you. How can you speak of her like you have? She has been your friend for so long."

"I know what it has been like for you to constantly be compared to me. I know it has been difficult for you and I have become paranoid in my fame that someone will use the people I care about to get to me."

"That is ridiculous. Y/N is just as well-known as you, if not more. And she knew you before she knew me—how does any of this make sense, Charles?"

Arthur had a point but you could understand where Charles was coming from. It was always a fear in your own mind that something may happen to or someone might try to take advantage of your family or your friends because they were in connection with you.

"It doesn't," Charles admitted. "It doesn't make any sense. I was being stupid. I assumed the worst—thought Y/N was using you to mess with my head—and refused to see it any other way and I never should have treated Y/N as I have been or said what I have about her.

"She is one of the most talented drivers I have ever driven alongside. She is the kindest person I know. She has been my friend for years longer than she has been dating you. I should not have let my judgement be so clouded by my own fear.

"I am sorry, Arthur. And if Y/N is here, I would like to apologize to her, as well."

It was quiet for several moments. You waited in silence, still holding your breath. Had you breathed at all since Charles started apologizing? Was Arthur going to say anything? Was he just standing there?

There was the rustle of fabric followed by the telltale sighs of relief that accompanied a much needed hug. You exhaled and slumped back against the couch. Thank God.

It was long overdue that the youngest Leclercs made up. Thankfully, Charles knew his brother well enough to know that you must also be apologized to if things were ever going to get better.

"Y/N?" Arthur called.

You suddenly remembered that you had been eavesdropping the whole time. Charles had no idea you were just around the corner in your living room. You had heard the entirety of Charles' apology, even the things not meant for your ears.

You cleared your throat. "Yes?"

"Do you think Charles should be forgiven?"

You laughed and went to join the brothers in the foyer. "I absolutely do. Do I get a hug, too?"

Charles' face was red but he seemed to find the humor in the situation, too. He opened his arms for you and wrapped you in a tight embrace.

"I am sorry, Y/N. I know you would never purposefully try to hurt me or my brother. I was rash in my understanding of the situation."

"It's okay, Charlie. I just missed my friend."

"I'm sorry." Charles squeezed you tight once more before letting you go.

When you stepped back into Arthur, he let his arm slip around your waist. He kissed the side of your head. You leaned into him, too pleased with the outcome of tonight to fret much over PDA in front of Charles.

For the first time, Charles didn't seem deeply disturbed by your affection. However, he did sigh faux irritably.

"You two are way too cute together. It was so difficult to be mad at you sometimes."

You and Arthur laughed.

"I am serious! You should see yourselves."

Despite knowing it was an inappropriate train of thought to entertain in front of your boyfriend's brother, you couldn't help but think back to just about an hour ago and how you had watched yourselves through the bathroom mirror.

"Oh, we have," Arthur said, innuendo lost on his brother but not on you.

You smacked him in the chest. Arthur just laughed. Luckily, Charles seemed none the wiser.

my favorite fics (f1 version)

hii i wanted to start a fic rec list so i can keep track of the fics that i love and also get more people to read them <33 i’ll be adding more stories as i read them

all of the stories and authors below are amazing ! give them a read and a follow 🤍

MY MASTERLIST

oscar piastri:

tangerine by @scuderiahoney

but mama i love him by @pierregazly

somethin stupid by @taasgirl

uh oh by @uluvjay

late night talking by @jamminvroomvroom

lost in japan by @sunrizef1

call me your fool by @userlando

my own pastry by @f14fun

can i tempt you? by @uglyducklingofthe2000s

charles leclerc:

that’s who i’m racing for by @leclerity

so long monaco by @goldsainz

tis the season, i guess by @predestinatos

you'll change your name or your mind by @monzabee

this is a relationship i don't think anyone saw coming by monzabee

i'll look after you by @roostersgirlfriendlovesf1

it’s called love by @racinggirl

max verstappen:

the vegas saga by @theemporium

and they were roommates by @itsallyscorner

café de paris by tinycoffeeroom

at fault by itsallyscorner

there she goes by @heartysworld

chaotic texts by @norris55s

let me be the lighter by @nostappen

guilty as sin? by sunrizef1

look after you by @weeknd-ogoc

cat-sitter by @be4chywritez

hungry for life by @predestinatos

baby verstappen by @driverlando

carlos sainz:

treat you better by @tinycoffeeroom

money, money, money by @norrisleclercf1

style by @mickyschumacher

playing cupid by @somejazzinthemorning

future replacement by @edwardslvrr

mini sainz by norrisleclercf1

no mustache by @chillipeppersainz

don't go by @thef1diary

always and forever by @55szn

this by @cutielando

handprint by @vivwritesfics

lando norris:

matchmaker by @dumbseee

just us by @calumthomcs

you came you called by @dilemmaontwolegs

walk him like a dog by @sharlsworld

this by norrisleclercf1

drinks and jackets by @of-many-fandomss

lewis hamilton:

get him back by @theyluvkarolina

warm, buttery and soft by @laneywrld

family ties by @eccentricwritingbaby

george russell:

broken bones by @coco-loco-nut

million dollar baby by @everythingne

he got the girl by @claypgeon

my jacket now by @fastandcarlos

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Fourteen - Olivia's First Birthday Party

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

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Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

As much as Daniel was looking forward to date number three, where he would finally ask Milo's momma to be his, he had something to do first. It was maybe the most important day of the year for him.

It was Olivia's sixth birthday.

Olivia was so excited on the week leading up to her birthday. She had given out her invitations to her birthday parties (because got two) the week before. Milo was the first to get his invitations. As soon as he got out of daycare that day he ran straight to his mother, waving the invitations in her face.

"Two parties?" Y/N asked as she turned to Daniel.

"One thrown by her mother and a better one thrown by me," he said as he picked up Olivia. "Two parties doesn't mean two presents, though," he said in something of a reassuring way.

For a single mother who didn't make a lot of money, this was something of a relief. "Thank you," Y/N whispered to him and Daniel offered her a reassuring smile. "Are you gonna be at both parties?"

Daniel shook his head as he picked up Olivia. "I can't," he said somewhat quietly. "I don't want to ruin the party for her."

It was understandable really. The first party, the one thrown by Olivia's mother, was on the Saturday. It was princess themed and, according to the invitation, everybody had to wear a costume.

"Momma," said Milo as they drove to the store on the Friday before Olivia's birthday. "I don't wanna wear a prince costume," he said.

Y/N turned into the car park to the store. "What do you want to dress as, Milo?" She asked as she pulled into the first parking space she saw.

Milo thought about it. "Hmm, a cowboy," he said, nodding his head.

A cowboy he would be.

As Y/N got him out of the car, she pulled the phone out and dialled Daniels phone number. She held the phone to her ear with one hand and held Milo's hand with her other.

"Oh God, what do you want?" Daniel asked when he picked up the phone. But there was an inflection in his voice, one that suggested he was only joking.

"Can you ask Olivia a question for me?" Y/N asked as she and Milo walked over to the section with kids toys. "Can you ask her if she's okay with Milo wearing a cowboy costume?" She asked as Milo picked out a toy.

There was inaudible noise from Daniels end of the phone as Y/N looked at the toy that Milo had picked out. It was one of those barbies that came with a horse which had moving legs. "You are sure she's gonna like this?" Y/N asked quietly.

Milo nodded his head. "She told me she wanted a horse for her dollies," Milo insisted and Y/N tucked the toy beneath her arm.

"Now you've got Olivia wanting to dress like a cowboy," Came Daniel's voice as Y/N and Milo moved through the store, searching for the costumes. "Her mum is going to kill me."

"Well, you'll go out knowing you have the happiest daughter out there," Y/N said through a laugh.

It didn't take them long to find the isle that held the costumes. The hard part was going to be finding a costume that fit Milo. "I'm weirdly nervous about tomorrow," she said as she searched for a costume in Milo's size.

"Don't be," Daniel answered. He was currently getting Olivia into the car to drive her to the store to buy a pink cowboy hat. If she had to dress as a princess, she was going to be a cowboy princess. "She's not going to show herself up in front of the other parents."

That didn't make Y/N feel better. "So don't be alone with her?"

"Probably for the best," Daniel replied with a laugh. "You've got to survive this one so you can come to my party on Sunday."

"Oh yes, your party. What does the great Daniel Ricciardo have planned for his daughters birthday?" She asked.

Daniel laughed again. "I can't spoil the surprises," he said as his phone connected to the speaker in the car.

With a cowboy costume and a doll in her arms, Y/N and Milo set off to the cashier. "I got to go," she said. "I'll speak to you tomorrow?"

"Keep me updated through the party," he said, starting the engine. "I... bye, Y/N."

"Bye, Danny," she said and hung up the phone.

***

Milo sat in the back of the car, wearing his brown cowboy hat. He couldn't wait for Olivia's birthday party. He sat in the back of his momma's car, present in his hands.

"Excited, Munchkin?" Y/N asked as they pulled into the driveway.

Milo nodded his head as Y/N killed the engine and climbed out of the car.

Just an hour earlier Olivia had arrived at the house. Her father had dressed her in her princess costume, with the addition of pink cowboy boots, a pink cowboy hat and a pink bandana around her neck.

Just as Daniel had said, her mother was furious when she opened the door to see them. "What's this?" She asked as she stared at Daniel. From her outfit, it was impossible to tell that she was throwing a child's birthday party. She wore a short, tight black dress, one Daniel knew was just for him. Her heels were incredibly high; she was going to tower over everybody at the party, especially the little five or six year olds. "It's a princess themed birthday, Danny, not cowboy," she said, wearing a sickeningly sweet smile.

Daniel sent Olivia running into the house. This wasn't for her to hear. As soon as she had disappeared inside, Daniel stood up straight to face his ex. "I told you not to call me Danny," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. Her eyes immediately locked onto his biceps. "This is Olivia's birthday, and she wanted to be a princess cowboy, so she's going to be a princess cowboy."

"It's going to look so strange having a garden full of little princesses and having Olivia sticking out like a sore thumb," she spat as she leaned against the door.

"I don't care," Daniel replied quickly. "Olivia wanted to be a cowboy princess. She doesn't care if everybody else is dressed as a princes. She can be what she wants on her birthday," he said and quickly turned around, walking back to the car.

Thank god he had Y/N to update him on the party.

On the front door was a sign that pointed to the garden. Y/N held Milo's hand as they walked down the side of the house, joining the party.

It was a sea of pink with a couple of spots of blue. Almost all of the little girls were dressed in pretty pink dresses with little tiaras on their heads. The few little boys in the garden were in blue prince costumes, with crowns sat in their hair.

Milo, in his brown vest, cow print pants, brown hat and red bandana, was the odd one out. And he couldn't be happier. Y/N took the present from his hand and let him run into the sea of his friends. She walked to the table of similarly shaped presents and put theirs down.

"You!"

It was a shrill voice, one that had Y/N's eyes going wide. The other parts turned to her and Olivia's mother, still in her incredibly high heels, strode over. She was almost 6 feet tall in those heels, easily towering over Y/N.

She pointed at herself, brows furrowed. "Me?" She asked as Olivia's mother continued approaching.

"It is your fault that my daughter is dressed like a fucking cowboy!"

The entire party fell silent. The children all gasped as they looked towards her. "Sorry, but it sounds like Olivia wanted to dress like a cowboy," Y/N said, trying to be diplomatic.

"She was going to be a princess and this party was going to be perfect!" She spat, getting all up in Y/N's face. "But you put that stupid idea in Daniel's head and he's dressed her like this just to piss me off!" She shrieked.

The other parents looked around uncomfortably. The children watched on, probably learning their new favourite words.

"My son wasn't comfortable wearing a Prince's outfit," Y/N said quietly, trying to keep the conversation between the two of them. "He's five. I don't want him feeling self-conscious at only five."

"I want you and your son to leave," Olivia's mother said suddenly. "Take your son and get out."

Y/N couldn't quite believe it.

"Mummy no!" Olivia cried. It broke Y/N's heart to hear. Olivia walked over to them, tightly holding Milo's hand. "He's my bestest friend and I don't want him to leave," she said quietly.

Y/N stepped closer to Olivia's mother. "If you have a problem with me, leave the children out of it," she said quietly. "After today you won't have to deal with me again. Just let Milo stay for Olivia's party."

Instead of replying, Olivia's mother huffed and turned on her heel. Everybody, parents and children alike, watched as she disappeared into the house.

The party resumed but the atmosphere wasn't the same. Y/N shot Daniel a couple of texts, informing him what was happening. She told him about the clown, about the cake and about the presents Olivia was receiving. She didn't tell him about the altercation with Olivia's mother, didn't see the point.

The party was fun. The kids did several party games and ate cake and sweet and junk food. It only lasted for a few hours, but Y/N was glad to leave. She was just glad to get away from the eyes trying to pierce right through her.

"Did you have fun, Milo?" Y/N asked as she strapped him into his car seat.

Milo nodded his head. "I can't wait for Mr Ricciardo's party!" He said as Y/N climbed into the drivers seat. She was grateful he wasn't mention what had happened in the early half of the party, didn't talk about what had happened with Olivia's mother.

"I'm excited too, Munchkin."

Daniel picked Olivia up from her mothers house an hour after the party ended. It may have been her birthday, but Olivia's mother didn't want her for the night. Daniel was only too happy to take her home.

"There's my birthday girl," Daniel called as his cowboy princess ran into his arms. In her hand she held a doll, her gift from Milo. "Should we head home?"

Olivia nodded her head. Daniel picked up the bag full of toys she wanted to take with her and headed out to the car. Her mother didn't so much as say goodbye. She redid her makeup in the hallway mirror and followed them out of the house.

Daniel knew exactly where she was going. She had a date, he guessed as he strapped Olivia into the car. It was her daughters birthday and she would rather go on a gate than spend time with her. Anger filled him.

Daniel placed her toys into the trunk and climbed into the drivers seat. "How was the party, badger?" He asked as he began pulling out of the driveway.

Olivia looked out of the window. Her cowboy hat was in her lap, revealing the hairstyle Daniel had spent so long perfecting that morning. "Mummy shouted at Miss L/N and it's my fault," Olivia said quietly.

"Oh Badger," Daniel said as he pulled into a layby. He turned around in his seat to face her. "It wasn't your fault, okay? Your mum is mad at Milo's momma because of me so blame me," he said, but Olivia shook her head. "We're gonna make tomorrow the best birthday ever, yeah?" He asked and Olivia hesitantly nodded.

Making a note to ring Y/N the moment he got Olivia in bed, Daniel drove on, taking her home.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lillians-world-is-f1 @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

With the people I come to know in my life there’s a tendency for me to take a Motherly attitude when I’m with them. This became a part of my personality since I was young because I’m just familiarized with being alone in the household as I’m an only child. Sometimes it harms me yet it benefits me in the sense that they understand my personality like this. I try to be the fun one but I tend to be the responsible one in the end.