At long last, here is my masterlist! Note for my Supernatural re write: There will be a separate Masterlist for each season after the finale:) I would recommend maybe opening my prompt list in another tab, as there are a few prompt fics here and there. You can find it here.
All the links are under the cut!
Keep reading
Hi I love your blog so much and was just wondering if you by any chance had a masterlist?
Awh thanks and I just made them! <3
Sam Winchester masterlist
Dean Winchester masterlist
Demon Dean/Soulless Sam masterlist
Winchester sister masterlist
Winchester brothers x reader masterlist
Team free will x reader masterlist
Other characters masterlist
Christmas masterlist
Summary: It’s Summer 1925 in the Little Lady Blinderverse. Isiah and Clara decide to end their work day early to escape the heat of the betting shop, but find the heat in the air between them is harder to escape than they thought.
Characters: Clara Shelby x Isiah Jesus, Finn Shelby pops in for a moment.
Prompt: Almost caught
Content Warnings: Just vibes and a little kissing.
Tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️
Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist
Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist
Clara watched the long hand of her brother's old pocket watch as it moved around the clock face, the quiet ticks and tocks seeming to mock her as they seemed to slow and delay in her mind.
After what had seemed like an eternity squashed into a mere morning and early afternoon, she was basically caught up on the books. Or at least, if she wasn't precisely caught up, Clara wasn't feeling particularly motivated to keep working on them. Not that she'd been doing anything that could really be considered ‘work’ for the last hour and a half.
Shoving the pocketwatch away, she glanced at Isiah. He was across the room in Finn’s office, twirling a pencil in his fingers. Clara wasn't sure what he was meant to be ‘working’ on in her brother's office, but she assumed pencil twirling wasn't it.
It had been a slow afternoon. No one had been keen on laying bets or working, so the shop had emptied early. Everyone had finished up their day's work and gone home.
In this heat, Clara didn't blame them. Despite the mound of work she had to complete for her brother, she didn't want to be here either.
Clara had already shed her sweater. She couldn't respectably lose any more layers or she'd be left in just her slip, but she longed for it. She longed for a breeze or dip in one of the ponds on the grounds of Arrow House. She longed for a chunk of ice from the ice box in the kitchen. She longed for the end of this Friday afternoon, the end to this stale, sticky existence.
Clara pushed herself back from the desk—Tommy's desk, though he never used it anymore. The chair was more hers than his these days. Tommy had once said it could be Clara’s one day—the boss's chair—but even though it was her who sat in it more than him, Clara wasn't the boss. Today, she felt no better than any other working person staring at the clock and waiting for the end of their shift. It seemed that was all she’d done all day.
She'd have to come back and finish what she hadn’t accomplished before the end of the month—over the weekend or early before she was due at the Jamaica Row office on Monday morning. It wasn't smart putting it off, but Clara didn't care. The heat had zapped any sense of caring from her system, leeching all of the diligent conscientiousness she was known for straight out of her.
"What are the odds we get caught out if we lock up early?”
Isiah's foot fell off the desk and slammed against the floor, Clara's sudden presence in the room startling him more than it should have considering a wall of windows lined the office and he’d faced that way, his glossy gaze set out toward the empty shop she crossed over on her way to get to him.
"Christ, Clara—Trying to stop my fucking heart, eh?"
Clara sighed, rolling her eyes at Isiah’s dramatics out of nothing more than habit. The whole bit was familiar. He usually would have wrapped her head in an arm, ruffling her hair as retribution, but today he barely moved, barely even allowed the muscles of his mouth to pull into a smirk.
Clara was glad for it because if Isiah laid a hand on her, Clara thought she might scream. The idea of him coming anywhere near her in this heat, of his warm hand in her already frizzy hair…she felt warmer just thinking about it.
"The only thing I'm trying to do is stop working."
"You're finished?”
Clara shrugged. She didn't have it in her to lie, but she didn’t quite want to admit she’d been doing close to nothing all day either. "Are you?'
"I've been done for hours."
"What are you sitting in here for, then?"
She could see that she wasn't the only warm one. Isiah had rolled his shirt sleeves. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She couldn't imagine why he'd choose to sit here when he could be anywhere else.
Isiah raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?"
"Fucking hell. You’re babysitting. Tommy's such a—"
“Finn," Isiah interrupted.
"What?"
"It was Finn’s idea. Said 'I've got a meeting across town. Keep an eye on her.’ Not Tom."
Clara hummed, filing that annoying development away to complain about later. For today it was an order from Finn’s mouth, but before Finn, it had been John, and before that, she knew the order had originated with Tommy and Arthur. Tommy, who Isiah no routinely called 'Tom' and defended, as if they were friends. On the same side of things. Clara let the thought go, too hot for the annoyance that came with thinking too hard on her brothers.
"Where'd Finn go, anyway?'
"Meeting across town," Isiah answered, repeating the words with a smirk.
Clara breathed deeply, stifling the urge to hit him. She could imagine herself doing it, the satisfaction of her open palm—all clammy and swollen with the heavy moisture of the air—smacking against Isiah’s stupid, sweaty forehead.
“I just said.” Isiah added, stupid grin still on his face. “The heat getting to you, there, Miss Shelby?”
It was hotter in Finn's office than it was in Tommy's. There were no windows to the outside here, no airflow. Clara pulled at her dress, the fabric sticking to her collarbone as she tried to catch some relief.
“I meant who’s he with?”
Isiah shrugged. “Afraid that's above my pay grade. Can’t be asking after the boss’s whereabouts now, can I, love?”
Clara rolled her eyes. Finn wasn’t any sort of boss, not really, even if he was acting like it lately. And the amount of things that fell above Isiah's pay grade had dwindled over the last few years. She was nearly certain Isiah knew exactly who Finn was meeting with and what it was about, but she let it go, figuring that if it was important or relevant to her, he'd have just told her. The fact that he was playing with her told her it wasn't either of those things.
“Fine. Tell me, love, does the 'boss' have anything good in that drawer there?” Clara nodded toward the desk and Isiah shook his head, chuckling.
“What are you shaking your head for? What’s he going to do?” she asked. “Fire us for borrowing his whiskey and skiving off?”
“Tom—”
“I don’t care what Tommy or Arthur or John or Finn has said. It’s hot and there’s no reason for us to be cooped up here. I’ll take my chances with the lot of them.” Clara reached down, pulling out the bottle of whiskey. She opened it and took a slug before she handed the bottle to Isiah. After he drank, Clara held a hand out to him.
He raised an eyebrow, glancing at the hand they both knew was clammy and damp with sweat. Clara ran her hand down the side of her dress before presenting it again.
Isiah rolled his eyes as he slipped his hand into hers and Clara groaned, dropping his slicked hand in an instant. Isiah smirked as he ran his hand down the side of her skirts same as Clara had just done. No other man would’ve dared to slide his hand down Clara Shelby’s side like that, but this was Isiah and they were alone in the shop—no prying eyes to watch over them for a change.
“You’re insufferable.”
Isiah chuckled. “You’ve said so plenty enough.”
“Because it’s true.”
“Well, between you and me, it’s mutual.”
Clara yanked his hand then, pulling him out of the chair and to his feet. Isiah stumbled for her benefit.
“You’re testy today.”
“I’m hot,” Clara answered, walking towards the staircase. She tugged Isiah along up the first few steps, her arm straining as Isiah stopped on the third step from the bottom.
“And we’re going to the second floor to cool off?”
Clara took a deep breath before stopping and turning back to Isiah.
“We’re all locked up?”
Isiah nodded. He'd gone around to check all of the doors after Finn headed out. “Have been for hours.”
“Good, now shut up and do what you're told.”
Isiah snorted. “Yes, ma’am.”
Clara smirked at that. At least someone respected her. Even if it was just Isiah, and even if he was only playing, the telltale smile tugging at his lips, a bit of glee right there dancing in his eyes. Because even with those things present, Clara knew some part of it was genuine. Isiah respected her more than most people in her life. Believed in her more than most, too. And he had always offered up a bit of his power in the context of their relationship, allowing her to win on most things.
Not every single thing, but most.
Enough of the time that Clara knew when he was doing it.
As they moved up the stairs, the heat wrapped around them like a blanket. Someone had shut all of the windows, the air up there even more stale than it had been down in the shop.
Clara had a moment of doubt while the stifling heat grew, smothering them both and challenging Clara's breathing. Sweat collected on her back and chest under her clothes. She cursed in her head that maybe Isiah was right. Maybe there was no relief to be found on this Friday afternoon, not unless she wanted to give in and head out to her brother's house.
But Clara didn’t want to. If she did, Tommy would have questions about the books and whether or not she’d caught up yet. She didn’t have it in her to try to lie to him. If she was being honest, she didn’t have it in her for much of anything except simply being.
Walking the stairs of her childhood home with Isiah’s hand growing sweaty in hers, Clara was reminded of simpler days. Of times when she’d been just allowed to be. Even then, she’d been an anxious child. Overwhelmed and feeling like she was pulled in a million different ways, but looking back on it now, Clara was nostalgic for a certain freedom inherent to childhood. A certain freedom that came with not fully understanding the actions and motivations of the adults surrounding her.
She had always sought to understand, had always wanted to be a part of things, and now that she was—now that she and Isiah both were thoroughly integrated parts of the things they’d once begged to be included in—Clara would give anything for the two of them to go back to before.
To be reading together from a book, or pretending to be Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson. To be just two kids in their own little bubble, just the two of them against the world. It was a lovely thought, accompanied by a lovely feeling of nostalgia and as they stepped onto the second floor—just the two of them there within the walls of number 6 Watery Lane—Clara thought maybe it could still be the case.
The times were less frequent these days, but there were still moments when Clara would catch Isiah's gaze across the room, the two of them immediately caught up in some secret conversation that no one else even knew was taking place.
And sometimes, the two of them would dance, and as Isiah spun Clara around, she could’ve sworn there was no one else in the world. On those occasions, it was as if the music played of its own accord, no one needed to pull the strings or croon the melodies, the two of them feeling anonymous and alone even though they were surrounded by other couples.
“Come on, Siah,” Clara said as she tugged Isiah’s hand, some part of her certain that she could reach out and grasp that feeling, as if it was something she could trap and hold onto, keeping it close to her heart.
Isiah smiled at Clara’s impatience, his body so near to hers that he could feel the heat radiating off her back, a warmth separate from that of the air around them, almost pulsing between them.
Clara dropped his hand as she stepped into her bedroom, still neat and tidy and kept as if the 12-year-old girl she once was still lived there. As she moved toward the window, Clara pressed the whiskey bottle into Isiah’s hand, not bothering to look back to confirm it was within his grasp before she let go.
Isiah leaned against her dresser, watching as she struggled with the window, the wooden frame stiff and swollen and thoroughly stuck from the heat and years of disuse.
As he watched, Isiah wondered...when was the last time Clara Shelby had climbed out through her bedroom window? When was the last time Isiah Jesus had climbed out with her?
Neither of them could remember, and it seemed like the room had forgotten as well, the window remaining belligerently shut even as Clara dug in her heels and leveraged all of her strength in trying to raise the pane, a new layer of sweat gleaming at her hairline as she struggled.
“Alright,” Isiah started as he eased off the dresser, the whiskey bottle set aside. “Let me—”
“No!” Clara answered, her voice booming with the strength of her struggle as she kicked a leg out in Isiah’s general direction to keep him back. “I’ll get it. You choose a book.”
Clara sent her foot out again, this time directing it toward the other side of the room, and Isiah turned to follow the direction of her kick, straight to the chair beside her bed where a stack of books sat piled dangerously high.
The pile was a mix of old and new, a selection of books from her childhood and few of her more recent favorites interspersed with a few of the books Isiah remembered as coming from Tommy’s shelf. Those books had once been forbidden to Clara, but Isiah supposed they were far beyond forbidden books at this stage. And Tommy Shelby had far bigger concerns than what types of books his sister was reading.
Isiah fished a book out of the pile before returning his attention to Clara. He was about to sit down on her bed to watch the show of her struggle when the window flew open, the sudden movement accompanied by a rush of air and a celebratory shout from Clara.
“I told you I would get it,” she said, wiping the sweat from her brow as she turned to him.
Isiah rolled his eyes fondly and crossed the room to grab the whiskey, a swallowed comment on the tip of his tongue because even though Isiah and Clara usually passed quips back and forth, he was more interested in getting out on the roof, more interested in the reprieve of fresh air. Isiah pressed the book and bottle into Clara's hands before swinging himself out through the window.
Isiah was through in a small span of seconds, but it was certainly a more difficult maneuver than he remembered now that his body was all long limbs and the window seemed infinitely smaller than it once was.
Reaching back through the frame, he took the book and the bottle Clara handed off. Isiah set them both aside before holding his hand out back through the open window.
“I can—”
“Just let me help, won’t you?” Isiah interrupted. He wiped his hand down the front of his pants before holding it out again. “Gotta fight me about everything.”
“I’m not—” Clara grasped his hand, allowing Isiah to tug her through, and letting go once she was steady on her feet. “—fighting. I just—”
“Can do it yourself,” Isiah answered. “I know. Doesn’t mean you should always have to.”
Clara huffed even though a part of her appreciated the sentiment. She tried to be independent. She tried to do everything for herself. She tried to prove how smart and strong and capable she was to just about everyone, but she didn’t have to prove any of that to Isiah.
Clara unbuttoned the top of her dress, gently fanning herself with the loose fabric as she looked over the courtyard. She took a deep breath, grateful for the grey and cloudy Birmingham skies that shielded them from the heady rays of sun she usually craved.
The roof outside of her bedroom wasn’t exactly the reprieve she had imagined, but it was marginally better than the dense staleness of the shop and her bedroom.
“Romeo and Juliet?” Clara asked as she lowered herself to the roof and reached for the book. “Really, Isiah?”
While Clara enjoyed her Shakespeare, the play hadn’t exactly been her favorite, and her memories of the piece were tainted by the fact that she’d first read it at school, with Juliet’s role going to a girl she wasn’t particularly fond of. Clara would’ve preferred to revisit Sherlock Holmes or one of Tommy’s old books.
Isiah shrugged and sat down beside her, reaching for the bottle. “Reminded me of when you tried stepping out with that Italian kid.”
He said it as if he didn’t remember the name of the ‘Italian kid.' As if it had been nothing but a blip. As if her social connections hadn’t gotten her into nothing but trouble that year and been the source of arguments between her and her family, and her and Isiah.
Clara shoved Isiah’s shoulder.
“I wasn’t stepping out with anyone.”
It had been a friendship. Maybe with a hint of a crush, but there had been no stepping out. Nothing close. Her brothers' reputation had seen to that.
“And anyway, it’s more like when you were stepping out with that Cheapie girl.”
Isiah raised an eyebrow. “What are you on about?”
“Ruth,” Clara answered. “Practically Wally Bartow in a dress.”
He snorted. “It was one dance, Clara. Didn’t even know her name. Had no clue she was a Bartow.”
Clara shrugged. “You looked awfully cozy if I remember properly.”
“Well, that’s just how I dance, love.” Isiah winked at her before taking a swig from the bottle. “You know that better than anyone.
“And I'm sorry to inform you, but if either of us is destined to have a love life like these two—” Isiah nodded towards the book. “—it’s you. No matter who you end up with, it’ll be like Montagues and Capulets. Shelbys against whatever poor sap you choose.”
Isiah knocked her shoulder, the touch telling her it was only a joke. Clara stayed leaning against him as long as she could manage in the heat before prying the bottle from his fingers to take a sip.
“Ada says us Shelby girls are cursed that way.”
Isiah reached for the book, thumbing through the pages rather than answering. He had an idea about that particular curse. He had been old enough to remember how Ada’s marriage had been handled, and even if he hadn’t been, Isiah knew how Clara was being managed.
How they both had been managed for years now.
Isiah reached out for the bottle, taking another swig before he started reading.
“Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene…”
They passed a few hours reading and talking and sipping from the bottle, the pair moving on to gentle conversation interspersed with quotes from Shakespeare’s catalog once the pages became too difficult to read in the dimming light. Lost in the throes of conversation, easy laughter and the cooling night breeze, Isiah and Clara were suspended in what felt like a world that was just their own, their sense of time and place and awareness pushed aside.
Clara was giggling at some obscure quote Isiah had pulled seemingly out of nowhere when Isiah sensed suddenly that the world was no longer theirs alone, his attention gone to the far end of the shared courtyard, a familiar chorus of boisterous laughter reaching his ear from across the space.
Isiah was faintly aware of Clara naming the play he’d quoted before she shared her next quote, a gentle laughter lacing her words as she spoke, but the awareness of his heart pounding against his chest was stronger, a sudden urge to quiet her—to shield their presence there on the roof—taking over.
Overcome with that urge, Isiah could’ve shushed her or set his hand over her mouth to stifle the words.
Or he could've taken a breath and calmed himself and simply let her finish.
It wasn't as if they were doing anything wrong. There was no reason to hide.
Isiah could have let Clara tell him, ‘I do desire we may be better strangers,’ before dissolving into giggles. He could’ve then told her the quote was from ‘As You Like It,’ a quote which he was intimately familiar with because Clara had directed it at him and Finn a number of times before, sometimes in jest, sometimes because she wished to hurt them.
No one would question Isiah and Clara being out on the roof with a book and a bottle of whiskey, least of all Finn. People were plenty used to their antics, but something felt different tonight so Isiah only let Clara get half a sentence out before he placed his hand at the back of her head, drawing her in close and pressing his lips to hers in the dark, catching her words and quieting her so efficiently that it was nearly silent on the roof as Finn and the junior Peaky Boys passed over the back threshold of no. 6.
The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but Isiah felt Clara’s whole body relax within his touch. She leaned into the hand he cradled behind her head, allowing him to deepen the kiss he hadn’t intended on giving in the first place, her hands reaching out for him, her fingernails grazing his scalp in a way that sent shivers down his spine.
Isiah pulled away, but even so, for a moment, he forgot where he was. He forgot why he’d kissed her, or at least he’d forgotten whatever justification he’d initially provided himself for pressing his lips to hers. He forgot about Finn and the boys. He forgot about Shakespeare and feuds and consequences. With his warm hand still on the back of Clara’s sweaty neck, barely able to see the details of her now flushed face, it was once again just the two of them there in the world.
With their faces still so close that Clara could feel Isiah’s warm whiskey-tinged breath on her face, her eyes shifted to his lips. She couldn’t remember what they were talking about before. She didn’t know why he’d kissed her. She had heard the back door slam, some part of her aware of her twin's proximity, an awareness Aunt Polly had always tol her was part of her gifts, but as Clara pulled Isiah's lips back to hers, she found she didn’t care to remember there was more to the world than the two of them and this.
She didn’t want to question it, and yet, Clara was first to pull away this time, her ears far more sensitive to the familiar sound of someone turning the handle of her childhood bedroom’s door than Isiah was. With a sudden swiftness, she removed herself from Isiah’s hold and pushed him back against the roof as she extended her hand up to the sky.
“There you are,” Finn said, sticking his head out the open window to see what Clara was pointing at. "What are the two of you out here for?"
Clara tilted her head back to her brother. “Constellations and Shakespeare. Would you like to join us?” she asked, the words feeling odd to her as they passed through her swollen lips.
“No,” Finn snorted. “It's payday. We’re heading to the Garrison, and then maybe to a few other—”
“No, thank you. I'm staying here,” Clara answered, even though it wasn’t exactly an invite Finn had extended, but more of a declaration. An order.
A flash of something passed over Finn’s face. Clara could barely see it in the dark, but she figured it was a bit of annoyance, maybe, or a touch of shock at being refused. It seemed like more and more, Finn was coming to expect the same sort of compliance from Clara that the others did, forgetting that it was mere minutes that separated their births rather than years.
“It’s too hot, Finn,” Clara added, her tone a bit softer. “I have no desire to be holed up in the snug, squashed between you lot.”
“Alright, then. Isiah?” Finn tried.
“She’s got a point, mate.”
Clara heard someone shouting from the floor below, the details muffled by the shut door, but Finn seemed to recognize their meaning well enough.
"Are you sure?" Clara sensed the question was for Isiah even though they could barely see each other's faces in the growing dark. "Drinks are on Shelby Company Ltd. tonight," Finn added, as if Isiah's drinks weren't usually on the house, anyway.
"It's alright. You go ahead with the boys," Isiah offered. "I'll keep an eye on Clara."
Clara's elbow twitched, the desire to ram it into Isiah's ribcage surging as she caught the hint of a smirk on Isiah's face, but Clara stopped herself knowing that it had been the right thing to say.
Finn nodded his understanding in the dark, his attention pulled to the stairs once again by a sudden noise.
"Don't fall asleep out there, Clara."
Clara heaved a breath to stop herself from telling him he had no business telling her where she could or couldn't fall asleep, but Isiah beat her to it, telling Finn he would handle it.
No matter that Finn would likely be the one who needed assistance finding his bed before the night was through...
"Have a good night," Finn said as he stepped away from the window, leaving Isiah and Clara alone. They leaned back against the roof, the two of them staring at the sky in silence as they listened to the sounds of Finn and the boys heading out through the back door, their shouting and laughter echoing as they traversed the shared courtyard.
When the echoes died away, Clara stretched out her fingers, seeking the familiar roughness of Isiah’s palm.
“That was bad,” Isiah said, his fingers closing around hers. “Close...we almost got caught.”
Clara heaved a breath before turning to face him. “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”
Isiah snorted. He glanced briefly to his right to meet Clara's gaze in the dark before tipping his head back to the sky.
"Hamlet," Isiah answered softly, squeezing her hand gently before releasing her fingers.
They had been through this time and time again, the two of them dancing around the label of what they were. Friends. Best friends. Something more. They had settled on friends as far as most of the world was concerned, but that didn’t mean the lines weren’t still blurry at times, their belligerent feelings tangled and confused and persistent. For years now, they had maintained a mostly unspoken agreement that they’d keep anything beyond friendship hidden—from themselves, from one another, from everyone else.
Most especially from everyone else.
They'd learned early on that it wasn't worth the strife. It wasn't worth the fight. Any resistance had been squashed down time and again. Somehow, this felt easier. Less painful.
If it was up to the two of them, perhaps things would be different. Perhaps they’d have tried at love and failed, and moved on by now. Or perhaps they would have tried and it would have been easy. Smooth.
Perhaps there would be no confusion or jealousy or hiding. No dismissing their closeness as nothing more than echo of a childhood friendship, no stinging comments on who the other had stepped out with—the slights used both as a weapon and a protection to guard their tender hearts.
But as it was, Clara and Isiah had never been given a proper chance at something more. A boundary had been set for them at the outset, a series of orders they’d both been too young to fight at the time. They’d been at the mercy of the powers that be, and even though they were older now, they were still at the mercy of that power.
Or maybe they still danced around the boundary because it felt easier, somehow safer for them both to keep that prescribed distance between them.
“Perhaps I am destined for tragedy, Isiah.” Clara mused. “Or simply to be alone. Unloved for eternity.”
“You’re not alone, love.” Isiah reached for the hand he’d dropped only moments before. “I’m right here.”
“And you know I love you," he added as Clara curled toward him, resting her head against his chest.
Clara sighed and nodded.
“I love you, too,” she added, and Isiah’s chest fell with the breath he’d been holding.
“Can we not just pretend that’s enough?” Clara asked. “Just for tonight?”
They were dangerous questions and Clara asked them without turning to observe Isiah’s face. She could feel the tenseness of his body beneath her, the fear her questions provoked.
“Like it’s just us in the world and no one else?” she tried, a question and a wish because the house was empty and the roof was dark and it was unlikely they’d be caught.
Isiah feared that a little, but more than he feared getting caught—for they’d successfully explained away so much over the years and he had no doubt they could manage it again—Isiah feared the two of them getting caught up in things. He feared getting caught up in the true feelings between them, the ones they’d so carefully worked to keep a hold on all of these years, a carefully manicured relationship that allowed them to be close, but not so close that they fell over the edge.
For even though Isiah dated other girls, and even though Clara insisted that Isiah Jesus was just a friend, they both knew there was something more between them. A magnetic pull, something in their hearts that they both knew to be true love.
In the moments when the two of them could be honest with each other, when the rest of the world fell away...on nights like tonight, it wasn’t especially unusual for their lips to meet. It wasn’t unusual for Clara’s hopelessly romantic naïveté to make a showing. For some part of her to feel that it could be easy. That it could work.
And it wasn’t unusual for Isiah to agree. For every part of him to want the very thing they spent the bulk of their days denying and shutting down.
They were both craving it now though, both barely able to remember why they ever did hold back. It was just the two of them there on the roof beneath a blanket of smog-covered stars, both of them still hazy around the edges due to the whiskey and the heat and the memory of their kiss, the memory of his hands on the back of her neck.
Those things made it easy to hope. They made it easy to forget.
Because if they were surrounded by friends at the Garrison or out at Arrow House or under the watchful eye of a Blinder, Clara and Isiah wouldn’t even entertain the thought that they could be more than friends. Under those circumstances, they’d be easily convinced that regardless of the feelings between them, it was much too complicated, much too difficult.
“Maybe we should just run away. Find a place in the world where there are stars in the sky and no Shelbys.”
Isiah snorted. “Not even you?”
“Well, just me,” Clara amended. “Just me and you and no one else we've ever met. It could be easy.”
“Maybe,” Isiah hummed, his hand tilting Clara’s face up to his as he spoke. “but the course of true love never did run smooth, Clara Shelby”
“A Midsummer Night’s—” Clara started, only for the rest of the play’s title to be caught up by Isiah’s lips.
They both knew it wasn’t a good idea, dabbling in love when neither was ready to commit to the war it would be. Neither was quite ready for the consequences of them moving beyond friendship, moving against her family’s wishes and decrees, but they let it happen anyway, some piece of their hearts holding on to the hope that someday they wouldn’t be hiding on a rooftop, stealing hungry kisses in the dark.
Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist
Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist
Madelyn Leclerc, the youngest of her siblings. She grew up around karting and Formula 1, so there was a matter of time when she got into racing. Watching her two brothers racing was something she also wanted to do as well. Now, her dreams are becoming an reality. What will Madelyn face in that seat at Alfa Romeo? Ollie Bearman, the secret boyfriend of Madelyn. Well not secret but none of her brothers know and that’s probably for the best. Ollie and Madelyn have known each other for quite some time due to him being her brother’s teammate.He’s making his debut in Formula 2 and Madelyn in Formula 1, will their relationship get revealed somehow?
Ollie Bearman x Madelyn Leclerc (OC)
Spa. One track where they lost a very important friend. No wonder it was scary to see Madelyn crash there..
Madelyn is finally able to tell her family that there isn’t going to be just one Leclerc on the F1 grid this year.
While she was visiting Arthur in the F2 paddock, she sees her boyfriend that she hasn’t seen in a few months..
Madelyn prepares for her first ever F1 race, it’s good thing she has so many people who are supportive of her there.
Ollie and Madelyn celebrate their anniversary, posting a picture online wasn’t the brightest idea..
Charles and Arthur aren’t happy that Madelyn is dating Ollie, this leads to an argument between the three siblings..
Eventually, Charles and Arthur sees how happy their sister in with Ollie and accept their relationship.
A weekend that just proves that Ollie and Madelyn are THE racing couple.
Madelyn‘s ‘older brothers’ can’t wait to officially meet her boyfriend..
Ollie and Madelyn get to enjoy summer with each other despite her brothers not likely the idea of it..
Started: April 2023
Finished: March 2024
Ok ok hear me out,
Imagine gekko little buddies keep following the reader something like that.
headcannons of wingman, thrash, and dizzy following you around. ^^
the first time you met them, they automatically loved you.
everywhere gekko went with you, wingman would always hover on your shoulder
even when gekko wasn't with you, his friends would always urge him into meeting up with you or convincing you to coming over
they'd always want to play games with you
of course, they didn't follow you around ALL the time, especially when the two of you were defending against the valorant league (sorry if you dont know all the lore to know what this means lmao)
but while the two of you had breaks between the fights, wingman would always come over to rest on your head
you always wished you could understand what they were gossiping about, usually about other agents
gekko would give you a much more nicer version of what they would say
those three would do quite literally anything for you
especially since they know of the chemistry between you and mateo
you could swear that they'd initiate stuff between you two, either giving flowers to mateo to give to you, or by angling you while you were sleeping to lean against him
wingman probably was literally the best wingman mateo could have
those three definitely keep a close eye on you
you're just proud to know that you were the favorite of those three lil cuties, other than mateo himself.
warning: none
characters: jude x fem!reader
summary: when you both play for Real Madrid and you accidentally end up in the wrong locker room
request: yess!
may contain spelling and translation errors!
Real Madrid Training Center — Spain
You were known for being as talented as you were discreet. Among the stars of world football, you had earned your place not only because of your surname, but because of your own merits. Small in stature, but gigantic on the field, you shone with your ball control and tactical intelligence, surprising everyone with every match. You trained hard, overcoming barriers and prejudices, especially for being a woman playing in a football league.
It was a late afternoon like any other, with the sun already setting on the horizon and tinting the sky a soft orange. Training had been intense, and you were eager to take a shower and relax a little. Still, your mind couldn't help but think about him. Jude Bellingham. The player you shared the team with, the same number on jersey — and, in a way, the same dreams. Although you had never openly spoken about your feelings for each other, the atmosphere between you had always been charged with something more.
Jude was charismatic, talented and, to you, dangerously attractive. You could feel his gaze on you at the most unexpected moments, like when you dribbled past an opponent or when you celebrated a goal. There was a bond there, a silent connection that you tried, without much success, to ignore. The problem was that this closeness was always on the verge of exploding into something more, something that both of you seemed hesitant to allow.
The training session that day had been particularly intense, and the feeling of adrenaline was still running through your veins when the final whistle blew. Tired, but with your head full of thoughts, you walked to the locker rooms, lost in your own thoughts about the game and, of course, about Jude.
That's when it happened.
Still a little distracted, you entered the wrong locker room. You didn't realize it right away, because you were familiar with the space, since the structure of the stadium was practically identical in both locker rooms. Your eyes scanned the room as you headed to the lockers, getting ready to take off your boots. Everything seemed normal... until your eyes caught a movement in the corner.
And there he was.
Shirtless, his bare back turned to the door as he took off the rest of his uniform. His tanned skin glistened with a thin layer of sweat that hadn't yet dried, and the muscles in his back moved perfectly with every movement he made. The sound of his boots hitting the floor echoed through the empty room, breaking the uncomfortable silence. You froze. Your heart, which was already racing from training, began to beat even faster, this time for a completely different reason.
You knew you should say something, that you should make some noise so he would notice you, or even that you should get out of there as quickly as possible. But you just couldn't. It was as if time had stopped, and your feet were stuck to the ground. A part of you wanted to look away, but another... you couldn't. You had never seen him like this before. So vulnerable, so natural. Jude, usually confident and full of energy, seemed almost... calm. And that mesmerized you.
You tried to take a deep breath, but it was at that exact moment that he turned around. For a split second, the shock of being caught by you seemed to take over his eyes, but then, when he realized who was there, Bellingham smiled. Not a nervous or embarrassed smile, but one of those charming and almost challenging smiles he used to give you when he wanted to play with you.
—Y/n? —His deep voice sounded through the empty locker room, and the way he called you made your body shiver. —Did you go into the wrong locker room?
You finally found your voice, although it was still a little shaky.
—I... I think so. Sorry.
You felt your cheeks heat up, trying to look away, but your eyes insisted on returning to him.
Jude quickly grabbed a towel, throwing it over his shoulders, but still without putting on his shirt, clearly not as bothered as you were.
—No need to apologize. —He replied, still smiling in that provocative way. —But it's funny... I always knew you wanted to see me, but I didn't expect it to be like this.
Your eyes widened at the blatant joke.
—You’re an idiot!
You said, trying to sound angry, but unable to hide the nervous smile that formed on your lips.
He took a step towards you, slowly, as if measuring the impact of each movement. You tried to back away, but the closet was right behind you, preventing any attempt to escape. Jude, still unhurried, stopped a few inches away from your small body compared to his. The heat radiating from his body seemed to invade yours, and for a moment, you were sure he could hear your heart beating.
—What's wrong, Y/n? Are you going to run away now? —He teased, lowering his head a little to meet your eyes. —We're always so direct on the field... I thought it was like that off it too.
You swallowed hard, unable to take your eyes off his smile.
—I'm not running away. I just... I didn't expect to see you like this.
—Like what?
Jude arched an eyebrow, his smile widening even more.
You felt the words escape your mind completely. There was no simple answer. Because, in fact, seeing him like this —without defenses, without the barrier of the uniform and the player's posture— was something new. He seemed even closer, more real, and this closeness disoriented you.
—Like this... without your barriers.
You finally managed to say, your voice coming out low, but full of sincerity.
For a moment, his smile wavered. He watched you closely, as if trying to understand the depth of the words you had just said. And then, to your surprise, he took another step forward, completely invading your space.
—I never had any barriers with you. — Jude murmured, now very close. Close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath. —Since day one.
The world around you seemed to disappear. It was as if, at that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of you. You found yourself trapped between the locker and the young player, and as much as part of your mind screamed to get out of there, your body wouldn’t obey. Something bigger kept you in place, something that had been stuck between you for too long.
—Jude…
You began, but you weren’t sure what you wanted to say. You couldn’t form a clear line of reasoning with him so close.
He, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what he wanted. Without breaking eye contact, Bellingham raised his hand and lightly touched your face, his fingers running along the line of your jaw to your chin. The touch was soft, but at the same time, electrifying.
—I thought you knew... —He said softly, leaning in even closer. —It’s always been you.
Your heart felt like it was going to explode. There was something about Jude that had always attracted you, something that went beyond the physical, beyond the talent. He had an intensity, a passion, and now, with him so close, you felt like you couldn’t run away from it anymore. You closed your eyes for a brief second, trying to process everything that was happening, but then… You gave in. With a quick movement, as if your body had finally decided to act on its own, you leaned forward and kissed him. The touch of your lips was like an explosion, and everything that had been bottled up between you for months, maybe years, came to the surface all at once. The kiss was deep, full of desire and, above all, of the connection that you both tried to hide for so long. He responded with the same intensity, his hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. You felt his body, strong and warm, pressed against yours, and you knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was where you wanted to be. There was no denying it anymore.
When you finally separated, both of you panting, you looked at him, your eyes still wide with the intensity of the moment. Jude smiled, this time softer, but still with that mischievous glint.
—That explains why you went into the wrong locker room.
He said, teasing you once more.
You laughed, still breathless.
—Maybe I did it on purpose.
And there, between laughs and sighs, you knew that, after that day, nothing would ever be the same again.
Yees!!! Okay, so can I request a piastri or leclerc reader (whichever you want) where reader accompanies her older brother to a race and she was wearing a dress or a skirt and a fan takes a photo up her skirt (she is wearing shorts underneath) and in an instant it blows up on the Internet with mixed reactions and it reaches the drivers (while doing media duty) and reader's brother freak out, cause wtf where is the security man! And he looses his shit (like has to be held back) as soon as people find evidence of the guy who took the photo (another fan accidentally filming the whole ordeal) which makes the fia fine him BUT THEN MY BOI RETALIATES ALONG WITH THE ENTIRE GRID CAUSE F THE FIA MAN and just hurt/comfort cause reader is now scared to go anywhere in public in anything other than a pair of pants with a pair of leggings underneath and just very supportive and comforting older brother Charles or Oscar
If you are not comfortable with this request I totally understand, thank youu
Piastri!Reader
This is such a specific request.
WARNING! I do want to warn to anyone reading that this is going to include the sharing of images of y/n that were taken without consent and the reader will go through some distressing emotions. I don't usually write about serious matters like this so if you're more here for romantic fluff, this isn't the usual and you might not be a fan of this.
As the closest two on the grid to to the Aussie. Lando and Logan have seen Oscar happy and having a good time. But the joy of having his little sister there for a couple weeks with them. It's fair to say that Oscar misses her and seeing the overwhelming change since he moved away from home for his career, he cherishes every moment he gets to spend with her and he maybe still babies her a little too much.
But when he left home she was in her awkward mid-teens phase and now she's just hit 20 and annoyingly she gets attention from plenty of the F1 drivers and the F2 drivers.
Y/n doesn't care about the attention she gets for her appearance. She's there for her brother and he's her idol. Her entire life she's looked up to her big brother and admired him for getting into F1, it only hurts that she can't be there for him more often.
Getting into the paddock was wild and even in the safety and security of the paddock. There was a lot of people buzzing around.
What no one predicted for the start of race day was for something to rile Oscar so much he actually started yelling.
The social media teams had caught wind of the video but in time to reach Oscar, Lando or any of the other drivers while doing media duties, some of which all crowded in the media pen.
A video of y/n capturing her face just before it dips down and catches a few frames under her skirt. The caption of the video being "Oscar's sister is clearly here as a secret fan of Ferrari".
"Do we know who posted it?" Oscar questions with a darkness in his tone that makes Lando look almost fearful at his teammate while y/n just blinks away her tears. They've managed to push the McLaren drivers back into the hospitality unit and in fact many of the other teams did the same just to try and calm the situation since all of the drivers are pretty angered about it.
Maybe it should've been predicted that the one thing to bring out the dark side of Oscar would be someone hurting his sister. Emotionally or physically, it's the same to him and this sort of thing in completely unacceptable.
"I want to know who posted it and we need to call the police and find a way to get this off the internet." Oscar states before storming out while y/n just sniffles then clearing her throat as she stands up, moving to go after her brother and hopefully calm him down.
The truth is, it's been posted and now he's been reposted and the disgusting comments have been spread around. A video of her red underwear, not worn for any intention other than just wearing underwear. Certainly not for the approval or attention of any Ferrari drivers.
"Oscar..." Y/n murmurs walking into her brother's driver's room where he's been pacing as she try not to hiccup in her tears.
"Y/n..." Oscar sighs moving to hug her. He can't even stop himself from wincing when he feels her crying against him. "I'm so sorry, y/n...I'm going to make sure they regret it."
"Oscar, don't get yourself in trouble. Let other people take care of it." Y/n frowns shifting back. "I don't want you to get yourself in trouble or with a bad reputation."
"If protecting my sister who has just been-been violated by a stranger who we don't even know the name of give me a bad rep then I don't want a good one." Oscar declares making her sigh softly before she swallows thickly.
"I don't want anymore attention about it." Y/n shrugs then swallowing thickly while Oscar frowns and slumps a little, moving back from her and leaning on the table. "You just focus on the race ok? That's what I'm here for ok? That's what I want to focus on, everything else is just...noise. Stupid people can't be stopped from doing stupid things."
"They can be stopped when it has the effect on you that it's had." Oscar grumbles clearly having no intentions of letting it go.
"Oscar, please? Can you at least forget it happened till after the race? For me?"
It's pretty much impossible for Oscar to say not to his little sister when she says that, so he reluctantly lets it go. At least up to the race then he fully intends to find this man and make him understand just how disgusting of thing they did.
-
It wasn't a podium. But seeing y/n actually smiling after the rough start to the day. It's a pretty good improvement.
But things don't remain all that good for long since the perpetrator has been not only identified but is being held by security. It comes out on his march over to the security building that another fan caught the moment the video was taken on camera too and the man was easily identified and found with the aid of other fans
Oscar doesn’t need a name though. He doesn’t even need to properly look at the man. The moment he’s in the room no one can act fast enough to grab Oscar before his fist collides with the man’s nose, a bone crunching impact that causes absolute bedlam to follow.
Security has to pull Oscar off the man in his blind rage attack. But that doesn’t stop him.
“if you ever think about coming near my sister ever again, or any woman and taking a video or picture or having a camera near them. I will personally make sure this is not the last time you pay for it.” Oscar exclaims in a state of anger that has him heaving for breaths.
His body is shaking with unfinished anger as y/n finally catches up, not having been considered to be informed as quickly as her brother.
“We need to get you to the medical centre. You’re bleeding.” Kim sighs as he checks Oscar’s knuckles that definitely looked better only a matter of minutes ago. “We need to make sure you have broken anything.”
“W-What happened?”
“Oscar went feral on the guy that took your video.” An Aston Martin girl states, clearly having witnessed the whole thing.
That makes her gut drop and y/n is rushing from her spot to follow Oscar to the medical centre.
They've already got him in getting an x-ray. Where it's confirmed that he has a hairline fracture but so long as he doesn't do anymore damage, he should be fine for the next weekend to race again.
"Oscar...you shouldn't have done that." Y/ murmurs while Oscar sighs knowing she's right but not wanting to admit it.
"He deserved it." Oscar grunts as they put a bandaged on his knuckles, if only to just keep them protected for a bit.
-
Only a couple hours later Oscar is called to the FIA stewards and they end up giving him a fine of €50,000 for assaulting a fan. That only boils his blood more and when the rest of the drivers catch wind of it they begin to contact Lando and pull together a plan to show their support of Oscar.
The FIA has ignored the violation committed toward y/n despite Oscar trying to calmly inform them of the fact that his attack while not necessarily ok, it was provoked and justified.
So during the Monday driver debrief, there's already something to say.
"Please just keep your head low for this debriefing, I don't want to be the source or reason for more trouble." Y/n murmurs while walking alongside Oscar. "Please, Oscar."
"I hear you, but if they bring it up then I'm going to talk about it and stand by my point." Oscar states looking like he might at actually cross his arms with his upset. "You're my little sister, you came here to have a good time not be harassed by some perv who don't understand boundaries."
She knows he's technically not wrong, but that doesn't make his technique of dealing with it any more acceptable in the eyes of the FIA and ultimately they can change his career fate.
Oscar leaves, though not with hugging his little sister tightly to try and reassure her that he'll try his best to contain his upset about what's happened. When he gets to the debrief the rest of the driver's look beyond angry. Possibly angrier than Oscar himself, but since he's been out of the loop in the talks between the other drivers. He just sits down silently beside Lando who looks like he might break his own fist from how much he's clenched it.
When the FIA officer appears, there's a silence as all 20 drivers glare, not hiding their simmering rage.
The officer begins talking about the race and they all just wait in a deadly silence before they're asked for feedback.
"Will we all be fined for defending our family, or any women? Or is it just Oscar?" Lando asks speaking up and genuinely shocking his teammate.
"Oscar was fined to stop the police from charging him with assault."
"And what about the man who leaked a video of y/n's underwear taken without her consent out on the internet? Or is it ok when it's a woman who is the victim?" George questions with a frown.
"If this happens again are we expected to encourage it? Tell them well done for being disgusting pigs that hold as little value as the important women in our lives as the FIA do? Or does it only matter if she's a minor and since she's over 18, it's ok for men to do whatever they like to her." Lance questions even standing up. "If that was my sister, he'd be lucky to still be breathing."
The lack of response, the stunned expression tells them all what they needed to know. The FIA didn't care about y/n's well-being or care if she had been hurt. They didn't care at all.
"I will bring it up and we will get back to you all." The officer states before clearing his throat. "Will that be all?"
Oscar is up and out of there in a second. Not being able to bear being here a second longer.
"Come on, we're leaving." Oscar states while y/n looks up form her phone.
"I just need to grab my stuff-"
"Someone else will grab it. I'm not staying here any longer and neither are you. Come on." Oscar demands making her move taking his hand that's offered out to her.
She's yanked through the paddock passing the other drivers as they exit. But Oscar doesn't stop to say a goodbye to even Logan or Lando.
-
Y/n has always been a lover of dresses and skirts, but ever since the video. Oscar has noticed her fashion change. She's wearing leggings, jeans or just any form of trousers.
Oscar's protectiveness increased the next weekend, he walked behind her at all times and had his eyes everywhere.
The FIA did end up putting a life long ban from any and all racing events that the FIA is involved in, even beyond just F1 events on the fan who took the video. They also apologised publicly and revoked the fine on Oscar.
But they did warn that this is not an incident to happen again. In terms of a driver getting violent with someone. Instead they want it to be addressed through the proper and legal channels. Not that anyone appreciated it.
The attitudes online are mainly divided between the men who hate women being a part of the sport practically blaming y/n as the problem and the rest of the f1 fans who understand that it's no one's right to take a video of under someone's skirt especially without their consent then share it online with a derogatory comment.
"Y/n, you know...you don't have to change the way you dress. I'll protect you." Oscar states, not sure how to address it exactly but knowing that his sister has visibly changed her choice of wardrobe.
"I know...I just...I don't want to wear other stuff right now." Y/n sighs managing a weak smile before she clears her throat a little.
Oscar drops it knowing that his sister is strong and for now this is how she's going to cope with what she had to go through. He can protect her and comfort her until she's feeling confident enough and if too much time passes that she continues to seem fearful of just being herself.
"You're the best sister I could ever have." Oscar sighs as he hugs her tightly. "I'm sorry there wasn't anything else I could do."
"Don't take the blame for this, Oscar...you aren't responsible for some asshole thinking he can do something that's really no ok."
𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ─ 𝐨𝐛𝟑𝟖
summary: when max verstappen’s adopted little sister starts soft launching, the whole grid launches an investigation on who it might be
pairing: ollie bearman x f2 driver! max verstappen’s adopted sister! reader
faceclaim: no one in particular
note: i accidentally published this before it was finish so now i’ve completely lost the request but anyways the request really was just about max being reader’s grid dad but i ran with it a little
.ೃ࿐ yourusername posted on her story!
landonorris replied to your story: it’s like you have a death wish
yourusername: shut up
landonorris: rest in peace to the unlucky guy 🫡
arthur_leclerc replied to your story: soft launching knowing mad max is your warden is insaneee
yourusername: i just got that dog in me ig
arthur_leclerc: never ever say that again
paularon_ replied to your story: so long, ollie. it was good knowing you, mate ✊
yourusername: so dramatic for no reason
maxverstappen1 replied to your story: that better be just be some stranger you picked up on the side of the road to tie your shoelaces and not a boy you went around japan with when you told me you were only going out with your team
yourusername: remember that you love and adore me and i am 17 years old and can make my own decisions
maxverstappen1: nice try. who is he?
yourusername: no ❤️
ੈ✩‧₊˚ messages
liked by olliebearman, maxverstappen1, paularon_ and others
yourusername suzuka, youve been very nice to me 🫶
view all comments…
user1 the way she ran to max’s arms after the podium 🥹
user2 a red bull girl with her red bull dad
user3 so we’re not going to talk about the 3rd pic?
maxverstappen1 who is he and why are you going on dates without telling anyone? what if something happens to you and no one knows where you are or who you’re with?
↳ yourusername calm down, we were with the team 🙄
↳ user4 overprotective dad max is so adorable i cant lie
↳ user5 if they were with the team, does that mean the guy’s also part of the team? another driver maybe?
↳ user6 user5 youre onto something
victoriaverstappen je bent geweldig, mijn meisje. blijf stralen ❤️ (you are amazing, my girl. keep on shining.)
↳ yourusername ik hou zielsveel van je, v 💕 (i love and adore you to bits, v)
paularon_ congrats or whatever
↳ yourusername jealousy doesnt suit you
↳ paularon_ nvm fck u 💕
arthur_leclerc stop winning
↳ yourusername get a seat first ❤️
olliebearman congratulations, yn! another trophy to bring home ❤️
↳ yourusername thank you, ollie!
use7 the difference between paul and arthur then ollie bye i love their friendship 😭
landonorris girlll who is heeeee
↳ yourusername no ❤️
↳ charles_leclerc come on, at least give us a clue
↳ carlossainz55 is he also a driver? what team does he driver for?
↳ yourusername yall are grown ass men way too interested in a teenager’s love life. absorb some sunlight
↳ user8 she gagged yall im afraid 😭
ੈ✩‧₊˚ messages
liked by olliebearman, paularon_, arthur_leclerc and others
yourusername hello, lover ❤️
view all comments…
olliebearman my girl ❤️❤️
olliebearman love you to the moon and to saturn 💫
↳ yourusername buzz lightyear’s got nothing on us frfr
↳ arthur_leclerc why can’t you be normal?
↳ yourusername ollie loves me with all the weirdness and shit
↳ olliebearman yeah that’s about right
↳ arthur_leclerc 🤮🤮
↳ user1 arthur is your regular third wheel bff
paularon_ ollie’s trying to keep his cool in the comments but he’s red as a tomato
↳ olliebearman shut the hell up no im not
↳ yourusername youre not? 🥹
↳ olliebearman i mean of course i am got me giggling and shit too
↳ paularon_ you’re both disgusting
user2 arthur and paul are so over them 😭
user3 i fucking knew the back of that head was familiar!!!!
user4 oh? OH!
user5 idk what hurts more. the fact that i no longer have a chance with ollie or the fact that i no longer have a chance with yn
user6 waiting for max’s comment
maxverstappen1 you better watch it the next time you step in for either carlos or charles, bearman 🙂
↳ yourusername you promised
↳ maxverstappen1 i promise i’ll carve charles’ appendix out myself so ollie and i can face each other on track man to man
↳ olliebearman i- sir?
↳ charles_leclerc mate, what the fuck did i do to you
↳ yourusername maxie come on. you promised me you’d be nice
↳ maxverstappen1 fine 🙄
maxverstappen1 dinner’s at 8 on tuesday. don’t be late
↳ olliebearman yes, sir 🫡
user7 not charles getting dragged into it 😭😭
↳ user8 max is just completely unable to go through a conversation without mentioning charles ♡ liked by yourusername
liked by victoriaverstappen, olliebearman and others
yourusername it was truly unfortunate for max to find out that his cat is also now in love with ollie
view all comments…
user1 omg sophie and victoria also joined the dinner 😭
↳ user2 girlie really introduced her to the whole family
↳ yourusername well actually max invited them along to try and intimidate ollie but jokes on him, they loved him
↳ user3 yn and ollie to max when vic and sophie ended up loving ollie: oh how the turntables
maxverstappen1 sassy is NOT in love with a ferrari driver
↳ yourusername one thing you, sassy and i have in common with
↳ user4 yn truly is just a lestappen truther
olliebearman sassy 🫶
↳ yourusername oh i guess ill just die then
↳ olliebearman my love beautiful angel girlfriend yn ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
↳ yourusername better
↳ arthur_leclerc did you just get jealous over a cat?
↳ yourusername did you really just lose your seat?
↳ yourusername it’ll get old when you get your seat back
↳ arthur_leclerc that’s getting old 🙄
user5 each and every day, arthur tries to come for yn’s neck and each and every day, yn gags him
paularon_ olliebearman in a scale of 1-10, how scary is it to face mad max head on?
↳ olliebearman just peachy 👍 (i nearly shat my pants)
charles_leclerc does this mean that max’s promise is null and void?
↳ maxverstappen1 none of you figured out who it is 🤷
↳ yourusername what promise?
↳ maxverstappen1 ….nothing
landonorris i can’t believe we didn’t figure out it’d be bearman
↳ george_russell it seems so obvious now
↳ alex_albon i asked him straight on and he lied to my face
↳ olliebearman i was terrified max would find a way to run me over with his rocketship if i even dare utter it
↳ alex_albon yk what absolutely valid
also this turned out wayy longer than i meant it to which is why it took so long.
Hello, again, I was wondering if you could write about how either Charles or Lando (I don’t mind) give the reader water reminders through out the day because they care. Hopefully this makes sense, I don’t know I’m tired ahah.
Hope you have a good rest of your day/evening!
This is so cute, I need a boyfriend who does this bc my chronic dehydration is definitely causing some damage to internal organs ngl.
Summary: A sequence of events when Lando reminds his girlfriend to drink.
Warnings: Slightly aggressive and sometimes accidental injury due to extreme love and care.
"Oooh, you're dressed up. Have the two of you just got back from a date?" Max asks before y/n appears in the stream and Lando stands up.
"Drink, baby-actually I'll get it." Lando states not giving Max or y/n a chance to talk before he's walking out the room.
"Anyway...how was your date? The chat wants to know." Max smiles, though he wants to know too. He is the biggest fan of Lando and y/n, mainly because he loves seeing his best friend so happy and caring towards someone.
"It was good. Thought, Lando should not be allowed in a pottery studio again. Just wait till you see the mug he made. Diabolical." Y/n sighs shaking her head before Lando appears cracking open a bottle of water, handing it to her.
"What's diabolical?" Lando asks with a grin.
"Your pottery skills." Max states but Lando's already ignoring him, noticing that y/n has been too caught up in the conversation to have taken a drink.
"Baby, please." Lando murmurs making her look at him before smiling and taking a mouthful.
"You two are making the chat go insane. Again." Max sighs noticing the chat flood in with users comments gushing over the two.
"More." Lando commands making her take another mouthful before he turns and addresses the camera. "This is not cute, guys. This is my girlfriend being so chronically dehydrated that the doctor told her off-no. No. Do not say that you guys are the same."
"It's not that bad." Y/n argues before earning a look.
"Did the doctor tell you off?" Lando questions earning a small nervous laugh. "That's a yes, for everyone watching. Now, if you'll excuse us. We have a date night to finish."
"Oh no, non PG stuff." Max grimaces then being swatted by y/n making her boyfriend laugh.
"We're making you food for when you're done streaming, you muppet." Y/n states immediately watching Max turn and smile gratefully at her. "Well I'm making food, Lando is probably going to watch and shout at me to drink every few minutes."
-
Lando left y/n for a matter of hours and it was no surprise when he returned to her and discovered she is chatting with Oscar's girlfriend, Lily. The two of them sometimes even team up sometimes to pick on Lando and Oscar when they look a little too alike.
Now usually he'd say something before getting her something to drink. But for some reason he decides to challenge her.
"Baby, catch!" Lando exclaims throwing a water bottle at her.
Unlike Lando and the other F1 drivers, she does not have quick reflexes and the bottle smacks her straight in the face.
"Ah, fuck." Lando exclaims jumping over to see her before she even really has a chance to react beyond covering her face. "I'm so sorry, baby. I thought you'd catch."
"You hit my nose." Y/n whispers, eyes watering from a combination of pain and shock. "Ow."
Lando pulls her hands away kissing around her face while trying to inspect the damage.
"Ok, alright. I'm fine." Y/n states though her red nose nd tears escaping would beg to differ.
"I feel so bad." Lando groans scooping her up onto his lap to just completely surround her in his body. "I'm sorry. I thought you'd catch it."
Lando keeps kissing her temple, then reaching for the water bottle and opening for it.
"Can you still drink something for me please?" Lando asks softly holding the bottle to her lips making her lean forward to accept the drink, though he tips it for her. "I'll never do it again."
"It's ok." Y/n murmurs then sighing as she looks at him before he tips the bottle again to get her to drink some more.
Lando kisses her once more with a heavy sigh.
-
Ending a race Lando is still in the cockpit, heading towards the top three spots when he opens up his radio again.
"Can you tell y/n to drink please?" Lando requests hearing his engineer chuckle.
"Yeah, I'll get the message passed on. She's already waiting for you by the barriers, mate. But someone is getting the message to her."
Lando pulls up and is looking for y/n before anyone else as he gets weighed, he bounces over to her. She's wrapped in his jacket, presumable as a last minute to show her McLaren support.
"I'm so proud of you." Y/n yells into his helmet knowing his hearing is compromised.
"Drink." Lando exclaims earning a very visible eye roll which is definitely caught on camera for the broadcast. "Baby, I wanna see you drink."
Y/n opens the bottle taking a mouthful as he begins to pull off his helmet and once she's swallowed some of the water, Lando kisses her quickly. Moving to celebrate with the team then heading over for the post-race interviews.
Though his gaze continuously flicking back to y/n leads her to making the effort to finish the whole bottle of water by the time he gets up on the podium.
By the time he gets down and has wrapped up all the media. The moment Lando is in his driver's room he's kissing y/n properly, always eagerly making up for time lost between them in the race.
"You need to drink more baby." Y/n whispers breaking a kiss watching him burst into laughter then picking her up and spinning her around till they're closer to the fridge.
He gets out a drink for both of them, opening one bottle before he hands one off to her.
"Something got you there anklebitter?"
Dean glanced at his younger sister from the review mirror, she was in the backseat moving too much just to find a good position to sleep in.
"I can't fall asleep and I'm too tired" she complained in a whiny voice like a small kid with a little frown.
Dean sighed he knew her like he knew the back of his hand there would be too much whining too much movement 'This will not end well' he said to himself.
Sam on the other side, he chuckled and closed his laptop "Pull over" he said to his older brother.
Dean gave him a look but did as he was told. Sam got out of the car, closed the door behind him, and then took off his jacket before opening the door to the backseat.
"Move" he said to his sister while sitting down and closing the door behind him. Dean looked in the mirror before moving the car on the road again
"Great! I call shotgun" Y/n jumped into the front seat.
"Hey!" Sam called from the backseat "I'm trying to help you sleep and you ditch me"
Y/n looked back at him while Dean was laughing at the whole situation, Y/n saw Sam lying on his back while his jacket was folded and used as a pillow under his head which was on the door and his long feet reached the other door on the opposite side "Now come on" he said to his little sister.
Y/n jumped back again and Sam told her to lay her head on his chest which she did and the rest of her body was on top of Sammy except her legs which were between Sam's long legs. She could hear his heartbeat while Sam rubbed her back to let her calm down then he started humming 'Hey Jude' In a few minutes Y/n's body was a little heavier and her breathing slowed down. Sam knew she had fallen asleep but he didn't stop rubbing her back and arm in circles.
Dean looked back at his siblings "Wow that really worked Sammy" he said in a low voice.
Sam just smiled in response and then looked at Y/n's sleeping form he knew exactly what to do to make her fall asleep no matter how old she gets she's still his baby sister.
-Gif belongs to @sonofagif
Can you do one where there was a large breed dog in the track that’s a stray and everyone is trying to catch it, but then driver reader started talking to it in a baby voice and she begs to keep the dog once she caught it.
Of course I can. That is such a sweet request. 🥰
Enjoy reading and send some requests
- xoxo, Babygirl💋
It was a bright and sunny afternoon at the Brazilian Grand Prix, and the atmosphere in the paddock was electric. The teams were getting ready for the final practice session before qualifying, and the tension was rising. Everything was running smoothly until, out of nowhere, a large dog—a stray by the looks of it—ran onto the track during the break between practice runs.
"Is that... a dog?" Lando squinted from the McLaren garage, pulling his visor up and pointing toward the track.
Charles laughed nervously, leaning on the pit wall next to him. "How did a dog get in here?"
The dog, a huge, scruffy breed that looked like a German Shepherd, darted across the track with a sense of urgency, weaving between the garages and cars. The engineers and staff tried to shoo it away, but it was too fast, dodging everyone and barking wildly whenever anyone got close.
The Red Bull garage, on the other hand, was a bit calmer—until Y/N, the youngest driver on the grid and currently Red Bull’s rising star, noticed the commotion.
"What's going on?" she asked, standing up in the car she had just parked in the garage.
Max shrugged while watching the chaos. "Apparently, there’s a stray dog running around the track. Everyone’s trying to catch it, but... it's not going well."
Y/N’s eyes widened, a glimmer of excitement flickering across her face. "A dog?!" She hopped out of her car faster than anyone expected.
"Wait, you’re not seriously going to go after it, are you?" Max raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-concerned.
But Y/N was already gone, heading toward the pit lane with a bounce in her step, her Red Bull racing suit fluttering behind her.
♡♡♡♡♡
On the track, engineers were stumbling over each other, trying to catch the stray with nets, ropes, and even pieces of food. The dog growled low and deep, showing its teeth whenever anyone got too close, sending them scrambling back.
Lewis was the next to try his luck, cautiously walking toward the dog with a water bottle in hand. "Hey, buddy, come on... let's not make this difficult, okay?"
The dog barked sharply, making Lewis back off. "Yeah, no. That's not happening." He quickly retreated, shaking his head.
Meanwhile, Y/N, standing a few meters away, observed the situation with a thoughtful look. She pursed her lips and bent down, resting her hands on her knees.
"Who's a good boy?" she called out, her voice soft and high-pitched, almost like she was speaking to a baby.
The dog’s ears perked up immediately, and it stopped barking. Slowly, its head turned toward Y/N, who was still crouched down, wiggling her fingers in the dog’s direction.
"Come here, buddy! It's okay!" Y/N cooed, her voice dripping with sweetness. She gave an exaggerated pout and made soft kissing noises, as if she was calling a puppy.
The dog—who moments ago had been terrorizing a group of terrified pit crew members—calmly turned and padded toward her, tail wagging slightly. It stopped a foot away from her, tilting its head.
Everyone was frozen in disbelief.
"Is she... talking to it in a baby voice?" George whispered to Carlos, who stood beside him, equally shocked.
"Mate, I think she is," Carlos replied, eyes wide. "And it's working!"
Y/N extended her hand slowly toward the dog. "Hi, sweetheart! You're such a handsome boy, aren’t you?"
The dog, much to everyone’s amazement, gently sniffed her hand, then leaned in to nuzzle her palm, tail wagging now in full force.
Y/N grinned brightly. "Oh, you’re just a big teddy bear!" She wrapped her arms around the dog’s massive neck and started scratching behind its ears. The dog licked her face in return.
The entire pit lane was silent, the drivers and crews staring in stunned silence. No one could believe what they were seeing.
"Is this real?" Oscar muttered, blinking as if he expected the scene to dissolve like a dream.
Even Christian, who had been watching from a distance, couldn’t help but chuckle in disbelief. "I’ve seen a lot in Formula 1, but this... this takes the cake."
♡♡♡♡
After a few minutes of cuddles and praise, Y/N stood up, still holding the dog's collar. "What’s your name, buddy?" she asked, looking into its eyes as if it might answer her.
The dog barked softly, wagging its tail even harder.
"I think I’ll call you... Ken!" she announced, looking around at the crowd with a proud smile on her face. "He looks like a Ken, don’t you think?"
The dog barked again, as if in agreement, making Y/N laugh.
At that point, a track official hesitantly approached, clearly unsure of how to handle the situation. "Uh, Y/N, we’ll need to call animal control or find the owner. It’s probably a stray."
Y/N immediately pouted, pulling Ken closer to her side. "Noooo, but he’s so sweet! Look at him!" She scratched behind his ears again, and Ken looked up at her with adoring eyes.
"Ken doesn’t like anyone else, see? He chose me!" she continued, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Max, who had wandered over with a bemused smile on his face, crossed his arms. "I mean, she’s got a point. Ken’s not exactly warming up to anyone else."
As if on cue, Ken snarled at the track official when he took a step forward, causing the man to back off immediately.
"Whoa!" the official exclaimed. "Okay, maybe he’s... protective of you."
Y/N beamed and looked down at Ken. "See, he’s just being a good boy!"
Christian walked over, clearly weighing his options. "Y/N, you can’t just adopt a dog from the track," he said, though his tone was far more amused than strict.
"But why not?" Y/N asked, giving him her best puppy eyes. "I’ll take good care of him! Look at him, he’s perfect for the team. We can put a little Red Bull jacket on him!"
"Ken, the official Red Bull dog?" Max smirked, clearly enjoying the chaos.
At this point, even the other drivers were gathering around, fascinated by Y/N’s new friend.
"Can’t believe it," Charles muttered, shaking his head. "She’s like the dog whisperer or something."
"Yeah, and he’s only nice to her," Pierre added, eyeing Ken warily as he stood close to Y/N but growled whenever someone else got too close.
Y/N grinned as she stroked Ken’s fur. "See? He loves me! He’s just a big softie."
Christian sighed, rubbing his temples, but there was a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Fine, you can keep him... for now. But he’s your responsibility."
"YES!" Y/N cheered, pumping her fist in the air. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Ken barked happily, as if sensing her excitement, and gave her another slobbery lick on the cheek.
The drivers watched in disbelief as Y/N led Ken back toward the Red Bull garage, already making plans for his new life in the F1 paddock.
Max clapped Christian on the back as they both watched her go. "Well, looks like Red Bull’s got a new mascot."
Christian just chuckled. "I suppose we do. Let’s hope Ken likes the noise of the cars, or we’re in for some trouble."