My School Works Are Stressing Me Out 😭😭😭😭

My school works are stressing me out 😭😭😭😭

fragile line | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader

You and I walk a fragile line I have known it all this time But I never thought I'd live to see it break

what happens when the driver daniel falls in love with, ends up being the one who brings his career to a screeching halt? word count: 7.7k (im so sorry) warnings/tags: fluff-ish, plot with implied/very little smut, angst, mclaren danny, zak brown (gross), some incorrect f2 stats but whatever, time jumps, really just a lot of angst, its a rollercoaster

“What do you know?”

“What do you know?” Daniel repeated the question back to you, the emphasis making it clear as day that you both carried the same career-altering information.

His signature grin and comforting optimism were nowhere to be seen. Instead, Daniel’s expression could be described in a variety of ways. Solemn, disappointed, hurt.

“What was I supposed to do?” You asked, going straight to the defensive. You couldn’t be helpful in this scenario, you just needed to explain yourself. He wouldn’t understand it from your perspective, but you had to try.

“Not take the seat,” he offered a solution, as if it was that simple. “My god, I mean, they’re cutting my contract early, Y/N. For you.”

“For the sake of the team,” you corrected. You had no say in this. McLaren had plenty of driver options for the 2023 season. There were rumours of Daniel’s contract coming to an end a year early anyway, everyone heard them, everyone ignored them. The only thing that remained uncertain for a while was who would replace him should the rumours be true.

You.

“You don’t even like McLaren.” You told him, voice raising a little as if that helped get the point across. “You’ve struggled with this team since day one.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to stop racing.”

“McLaren is not the team for you and you know this.”

Daniel scoffed, eyebrows twitching, “Did Zak tell you to say that?”

It was a rhetorical question, but Daniel noticed the way your bottom lip quivered. He caught the way your eyes dropped from his, even just for a split second. There was something unspoken between you, something that weighed on your mind and Daniel stepped forward, wanting to know what exactly it was.

“Zak-” you started, reluctant to even say this. “-he doesn’t know I’m here. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to talk to you or anyone about it, not until your announcement comes out.”

Here meaning Daniel’s flat in Monaco. The place you spent more nights at than your own. You played it off by saying his view was better but that was such a bullshit answer. Daniel’s flat always felt more like home than yours ever did.

You had formally met the Australian driver a few years ago, but god did time fly. It was at a race in Monza. You could pretend you didn’t know the date but of course you did, you had it memorised. September 3rd, 2020. There was no way you could forget the day your life changed for the better.

Or possibly, for the worse. It was up in the air at this point.

You were new to the Formula 2 series. The only female driver on the grid as you raced with Prema alongside Mick Schumacher. F3 proved to be quite a successful stint for you and you had your eyes set on the coveted Formula 1 series. You wanted to be in the big leagues.

Daniel saw that. He saw how determined you were to not only make waves in Motorsport, but to make something of yourself. You trained just as hard, if not harder than the other drivers in the junior series and Daniel had seen that for a while. He was often surprised to see you at the hotel gym, already working up a sweat when he walked in at a little after 6am. He would be even more surprised when he saw you there in the evening when other drivers went and called it a night or even went and celebrated.

Your race weekends were the same as F1 weekends, but you just had limited ones. It was a shorter season, less intense, but whenever you were there. Daniel saw you. He saw you and he paid attention. He even rooted for you, very publicly as well whenever he could, despite the two of you never having exchanged a word.

The first time you heard about Daniel cheering you on was after the Monaco race, quite early on into your first season. You qualified 7th, not ideal for a track like Monaco where the opportunities to overtake were far and few between, but somehow you did it. And then you did it again. And you could say it was luck but it was really smart strategy and an insane amount of driver skill that had you finishing fifth. In Monaco.

Those were Daniel’s words. He was asked pre-race if he watched the F2 run and he said of course. He said he “wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” wanting to see what you could do this weekend.

“It’s not luck, she’s incredibly talented,” Daniel had told the Sky Sports reporter. “She’s doing big things in the series, and I’m rooting for her. Truly. It’s rare a driver comes around with such raw natural talent, where you look at them and you know racing’s just in their blood, but it’s in hers. I would love to see her in Formula 1 one day.”

You watched that interview clip about twenty times. Daniel Ricciardo, the Daniel Ricciardo who had won Monaco a few years back, was complimenting you. He was rooting for you.

It wasn’t until Monza, nearing the end of your season that he finally approached you.

“I want to work with you,” Daniel said, straight to the point. You were in the middle of stretching in the hotel's fitness centre. It was only Thursday, the race weekend itself had barely started but Daniel knew he’d find you in there.

You pulled your airpods out and looked up at him in the mirror, “You what?”

“I want to work with you,” Daniel repeated, this time sitting down on the floor next to you. He kept your stare in the reflection. “I’m not a trainer by any means, but I want to work with you. I want to see you in Formula 1.”

You were flattered, honoured really, but you didn’t know what that entailed. “Work with me how?”

“Well, regular fitness training for starters,” he said. “But managing, really. I want to help you with everything that it takes to move up. Media training, mental preparedness, finding sponsors, getting you in touch with the right people. Let me help you, Y/N.”

You weren’t sure what brought this on. Part of you was convinced it was because he knew this would look good on his behalf. If you did make it to Formula 1 and Daniel’s name was attached to yours, he’d look like a genius. A hero. He would be known as the first person from F1 to publicly support you.

But that wasn’t what it was at all. When you agreed and accepted his help, you soon came to learn that Daniel didn’t want to be in your spotlight at all. He found the opportunities that you needed and then stepped back. He didn’t mention to the media at all that he was helping you, he didn’t see a need to. He saw your potential and he truly wanted to help you make something off.

So there he was during the off season, meeting you in London where you resided. He trained with you, set you up with the right people, did weekly check-ins, he really was like a sort of manager.

He was there during pre-season testing the following year, literally. He stood in the Prema garage like he was just another member of the team. No one really questioned it, not when you said he was acting as a mentor to you. Everyone loved Daniel’s presence there and he was told he was welcome whenever.

He was there during race weekends whenever he could find time in his own busy schedule. He was never there during the actual race, needing that time to prepare for his own, but he always watched from his drivers room or had someone in his ear updating where you were and what was happening.

He was there in Silverstone, when you crashed during Saturday's Sprint Race.

It was one of the last sessions of the day, Daniel had already finished qualifying and he was standing in the back of your garage, arms crossed over his chest, eyes glued to the screen.

He was the first voice you heard when you spun, losing the breaks in mere seconds and all you could do was brace yourself for the impact of the barriers.

“Tell me you’re okay.” Daniel’s voice came through your radio. Not your engineer, not your team principal. Daniel. “Say something, sweets, tell me you're okay.”

Sweets, he called you. But only ever in private, or in front of close friends. What started as a joke when you complained about him not having any sweets in his flat the first time you visited in Monaco, stuck.

But everyone had access to the team radios. It could be heard by other engineers, other teams, fans even and those watching at home should F1TV choose to broadcast it.

Of course they did. They aired the exchange for everyone to hear and it spread like wildfire. It was all anyone on social media could talk about.

“Say something, sweets. Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” you sputtered out, hands shaking as you unclenched them. It was an instinct to pull them off the steering wheel and tuck your arms to your chest, physically bracing where you could.

“Good,” Daniel breathed out a very obvious sigh of relief. “Good.” He paused, and then with a quiet chuckle added, “What the fuck was that then?”

You laughed in response, needing the humour at such a traumatic time. You had crashed before, but this was a bad one. You didn’t even need to step out of the vehicle to know you were lucky to not feel any immediate injuries, but there was a ringing in your ear and the adrenaline was preventing you from really understanding the damage your body had sustained.

It wouldn’t have helped, though, to have gotten an earful, not like it was your fault anyway. It also wouldn’t have helped if you were asked again and again if you were okay. The more people asked, the more stressed you would grow. Daniel knew you needed a bit of lightheartedness at this time.

“No brakes, Danny,” you answered through a soft laugh.

“That just sounds like an excuse to me,” he muttered, the sarcasm evident even through the crackling radio.

“Are you going to continue to question my driving abilities or are you going to send medical out here to help me?”

That whole interaction went viral. From the radio message, to the clips of Daniel accompanying you to the medical centre, to the photos of the two of you smiling in the paddock despite the bruising on your body, the concussion you were diagnosed with and the instruction from the doctor that you were not stable enough to race on Sunday.

Which sucked, to put it plainly. But you were with Daniel. He made the situation bearable. With his arm around your shoulder, he walked you to the car at the end of the day, having waited with you the whole time.

People speculated, of course. Questions were asked.

Why was Daniel Ricciardo paying such close attention to you? Why did he get over the radio when he crashed? Why did it sound so flirty? Had he been in your garages the whole time and no one noticed? Was he a mentor? A friend? More?

You had put out a statement when you got to the hotel, thanking everyone for the kind words and well wishes. You shared that you would not be driving on Sunday and you also shared that you were thankful for the support of Daniel Ricciardo, your mentor, who reminded you that even the best of the best crash out sometimes.

Mentor, you publicly called him That’s what he was, right? Or trainer. Or Manager. Or friend, really. There were a lot of words to describe his relationship to you.

People online didn’t believe it. They thought there was more because, who looks at each other like that if they’re not fucking?

But you weren’t. Honest to god, that line with Daniel was never crossed. You never even considered it. Always content with his companionship and his advice, you didn’t want anything physical or romantic.

At least, you thought you didn’t.

Daniel dragged you into his room instead of letting you go up to yours because you were under strict instructions to not be left alone for the next twelve hours should the concussion worsen.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, handing you a glass of water. “I know I joked over the radio, but I was worried. It wasn’t a pretty crash.”

“Are any crashes pretty?”

He sat down next to you, closer than normal considering when he rested his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers were within the distance needed to play with the strands of your hair.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, “I guess it depends on the driver. I make the crashes pretty.”

The comedic gasp you let out as you clenched your chest had him laughing.

“Daniel Ricciardo, are you calling me ugly?”

“Don’t twist my words!” He exclaimed, eyes squinting as his smile widened. “I said I was pretty.”

You hummed, “You pretty much said I made the crush ugly.”

“I didn’t say you were ugly,” Daniel playfully tugged on a strand of your hair. “You’re not- I mean, you-”

And then the humour faded. He met your eyes, his hand fell to your shoulder. He was still smiling but it was the sort of gentle smile one wears when they figure out the answer to a question that had been eating at them for a while.

Something clicked for Daniel. At this very moment.

He wasn’t going to let it escape him.

“Pretty doesn’t do you justice,” Daniel told you, voice lowering. “You’re breaktaking, Y/N. On the racetrack, at home, at events, you put everyone around you to shame. And it’s not- it isn’t just your appearance, it’s you. Everything about you. Your heart, your charisma, the way your eyes light up when you smile but only if you’re talking to people you like,” he chuckled, having experienced it first hand and having seen the way you don’t look nearly as pleased when someone you dislike approaches you.

You were speechless, though. Frozen where you sat as this admission came out of seemingly nowhere.

And Daniel was attractive, that was an undeniable fact, he was everything anyone could ever want in a man. But you never allowed yourself to look at him the way other people would. He was your trainer, manager, mentor, friend.

You had no words to explain the way he was staring at you now. Nor could you explain why it made you feel more alive than driving a racecar at inhumane speeds ever could.

Daniel took another breath, eyes never leaving yours. “You are unlike anyone I have ever come across and I know, in my lifetime, I will never find someone who could ever compare to even a fraction of who you are.”

There was no way you could continue to be just friends after those words passed his lips.

You kissed him. You had to. It wasn’t like there was anything you could say that would match what he had already said, nor could you even find the words.

You kissed him and Daniel pulled you onto his laps, your legs moving to straddle either side of his hips. His hands roamed your body, sliding up the Prema shirt you still had on as your tongue roamed every possible inch of his mouth.

His hand gripped your waist, rolling you over top of him so you could feel in a matter of seconds how this conversation had now taken a turn. His cock started to harden, constricted by his pants, but you still felt it underneath you each time he shifted, each time you grinded against him.

When you reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it off, Daniel leaned back, both of you taking that second to catch your breath and question if you were really going to do this.

“Is this a mistake?” You whispered, your thumb gently tracing over his lips. Your working relationship was perfect. This could ruin everything. You had fears, doubts, worries. One night could lead to dozens of complications.

But Daniel shook his head and all of those thoughts vanished.

“No,” he said, sounding so sure of himself with that one syllable. “I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life but you are not one of them.”

That was the only validation you needed. You kissed him again, more lust, more passion, than before as Daniel stood up, carrying you towards the bed at the back of the room. He dropped you down on the edge of it, smiling at the squeal that escaped your lips.

Daniel wanted to worship you every way he could. He was gentle with you, with your body, as he dipped his head between your thighs, making you feel a wave of euphoria that no one had ever brought you too before.

It wasn’t until you were begging for more did Daniel realise he didn’t need to be gentle the entire night. He slid two fingers past your folds, lifting his head and hovering his body over yours, wanting to feel your desperate breaths hit his face as he rapidly thrusted his digits in and out of you, your walls clenching around him.

When he attached his lips to that spot on your neck, his teeth pressing against your skin, you saw stars. Daniel’s motions didn’t let up as you came around his fingers, loving the way your legs shook and how you dragged your hand through the hair on the back of his head.

He was cautious about doing anything else, knowing you were injured, he didn’t want to overstimulate you or cause any more pain.

But you needed him. You reached for the zipper of his pants and tugged it down, telling Daniel you wanted this, as if the way you looked up at him didn’t already make that perfectly clear.

He was careful when he entered you, patient. The tip of his cock slid past your folds slowly and he kissed your collarbone so gently you almost didn’t feel it as you adjusted to his size, quiet moans emitting from the back of your throat.

He had praised you before, but only ever at the race track, so there was something so familiar yet so foreign about the way he whispered against your skin. It lit a fire within you.

“You take me so well, sweets,” he fought back a groan as your walls tightened around him when you clenched your legs. “So good for me.”

It was safe to say the dynamic between you two changed after that night.

Daniel adored you already, admired you greatly for your achievements and growth in the sport. But now he fought with himself every weekend, knowing that he couldn’t touch you how he wanted. He couldn’t show you the attention he so desperately wanted. He couldn’t kiss you when you got that podium in Belgium, despite finding a way to sneak out of the pre-race duties for a second to run to the barrier to be there for you with the rest of the Prema team.

Whatever was going on between you, it was unlabelled and it was private. The rest of the world didn’t need to know you were sleeping with the man you looked up to, the one who helped you become a great athlete in such a short period of time.

People continued to speculate. You were private, sure, but you weren’t overly careful.

You were seen landing in Monaco over the summer. You were spotted hanging out with Daniel on plenty of occasions. Even though you kept your hands off of each other and refused to act like anything more than friends out in public, you were different when you returned after the break. You both were. Everyone noticed.

Daniel was, if it was even possible, happier. And you were less stressed it seemed. While you were still fighting a constant battle of being the only female in F2, it no longer seemed as heavy because the weight of it wasn’t just on your shoulders anymore. Daniel was there too.

It wasn’t just physical, what you had. The emotional connection you shared was undeniable. Daniel was always there for you, and you, him. During the bad days, the good ones, and everyday in between.

When you finished the season 5th in the drivers championship, the only person you wanted to celebrate with was Daniel. He was so proud of you. He watched you go from finishing 13th last year to 5th. He played a huge part in that, but when you tried to tell him that, he only brushed it off, saying that it was all you, he was just happy to be there for the ride.

It was his idea for you to test drive for McLaren at the end of the year, too. ‘We’ll get you in a real F1 car’ he said. And you didn’t question it when the offer was brought forward to participate in a few practice sessions. It was exhilarating and terrifying and you cried tears of joy when you stepped out of his car because this was what you dreamed of. Driving a Formula 1 car.

Now you just needed a permanent seat and Daniel wanted that for you too. He was your biggest supporter, and you only grew closer as the days went on.

You met his family over the holidays. He spent New Years Eve in London with you.

When the season started again, he spent more time with you and Prema. When there were no scheduled F2 races during F1 weekends, you accompanied him in the McLaren garage.

At this point, quite a few people knew you were together, or at least they assumed it.

You didn’t post about it, you didn’t want to, you didn’t need to. Daniel didn’t need to show you off, nor did you feel obligated to let everyone know you were with him. What you had was private, it was sacred, it was only for the two of you.

But of course whenever you had a good performance, whether it be from a practice session, qualifying or a race, he’d share your celebration picture to his Instagram story.

“Would you ever do a shoey?” Daniel asked you one Tuesday night, zooming in on a photo of you, more specifically on the smile on your face as you clenched your second place trophy from Imola on Sunday.

You rolled your eyes but the smile was impossible to hide as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging you into his chest.

“Next time you win,” Daniel suggested with a laugh. “I expect a shoey.”

“I’m not Australian.”

“You’re dating one, sweets.”

You never actually discussed what you were. The term boyfriend-girlfriend seemed so childish. Dating was, in a sense, accurate, but again, there were no labels. He had your heart, you had his. That was the only thing that mattered.

“The world doesn’t know that,” you pointed out.

“They kind of do,” Daniel kissed your cheek, giving your side a squeeze as he stepped aside to help you prepare dinner.

You weren’t even sure when you fell into such a domestic lifestyle but there you were, practically moved into Daniel’s place in Monaco at this point and he was at your side, chopping carrots for the salad while you prepared the chicken breasts.

“A shoey would confirm it,” you glanced up at him, but the smile on his face told you he wasn’t completely against the idea.

Daniel stepped behind you, fingers playfully pinching your waist, “Just think about it. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I just reckon it would be entertaining for everyone.”

He didn’t bring it up again, not even when you got third in Spain and didn’t do it. It was your first time getting a back to back podium since you started racing and of course it was something to celebrate, but the idea of a shoey made your stomach churn. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the world to know about your commitment to Daniel.

You walked a thin line, being with him. And while you enjoyed every possible minute spent with him, you knew the world was cruel. The second you officially went public, you’d lose respect in the motorsport industry.

The only female F2 driver dating an F1 driver? How scandalous.

Despite the rumours, the correct rumours, you were still in a bubble with him. You could pretend you were just friends, close friends. The tabloids had nothing to go off except your polite interactions and maybe a little too friendly smiles and so what if you were there in the McLaren garage cheering him on?

You were his biggest supporter and he was yours.

But it didn’t help that while your performance was improving, his was rapidly declining. While you had less races than his, already your stats were better. You qualified in the top 5 for the first three races. You finished second in Imola, third in Spain, already better than how you started the season last year.

Monaco was next. Daniel loved Monaco, you both did. Everyone did, it was the pinnacle of Formula 1.

It was unfortunate that your weekends ended up so drastically different.

Daniel qualified 14th and then finished 13th. He wasn’t proud of it, but he did his best to hide his disappointment for you, especially since you were starting on the front row, P2, for the feature race.

And somehow, you won.

After trailing behind Drugovich for the majority of the race, you were starting to believe you would finish behind him too. And you probably would have, had there not been a safety car almost six laps after he boxed for fresh tyres, giving you the advantage of newer tyres and less wasted time. It was a strategy your team was banking on, waiting for a safety car. It was risky, but it paid off. Overtaking was nearly impossible with Formula 1 cars, but you had a better chance in your series and somehow, by the grace of god, you did it. You pulled ahead and swiped the lead from Felipe.

You made history that weekend. The first female F2 driver to not only podium, but to win at Monaco. You gripped that first place trophy so tight your hand turned red.

Usually, F2 didn’t draw nearly as big of a crowd, but this weekend was different. Everyone was a fan of the series after that performance, a fan of you. You saw people in the crowd wearing Red Bull gear, Ferrari merch, McLaren hats, and they were all applauding you.

Of course, you were blown away by the support. Hearing your national anthem play was an incredible sound. There were tears in your eyes and your entire body was trembling, yet somehow you managed to find Daniel. Right in front, with your team.

He was so proud of you.

Despite his shitty qualifying, despite knowing he had such a low shot at earning points at his race that was in just under an hour, he was there for you. You couldn’t tell if he was cheering the loudest, or if you were just so prone to finding him in a crowd that you couldn’t process anything or anyone else.

You weren’t sure what came over you, but once you grabbed the champagne bottle, you found yourself taking your shoe off as well. As Felipe and Théo started spraying their bottles in celebration, you poured the bubbly liquid into the sole of your racing shoe and lifted it up to your lips, pointing directly at Daniel who couldn’t believe what he was watching.

It was rancid, as you figured it would. It was champagne out of a sweaty shoe, you knew it wouldn’t taste good, but it was a shoey and it was for Daniel. Felipe patted your back, laughing at your reaction and muttering something about how Daniel would get a kick out of that.

He was right, but Daniel wasn’t the only one who found it entertaining.

Your name was once again trending following the Monaco Grand Prix. Not Checo’s, even though he won the F1 race. Your name.

Not that you really cared that night. How could you care about what the internet was saying when the man you were with told you that he loved you for the first time? Nothing online mattered, not when Daniel took your face in his hands and told you he was madly in love with you. He was proud, he was happy, he was in love.

And you knew you loved him too. You had known this for a while. Monaco was just the perfect time to say it.

After going about as public as you could without physically coming out and saying you were dating the Australian driver, Monaco was the perfect place to tell him you loved him. You were on cloud 9, you were making history, you were in love.

You continued to deny, or at least ignore, the rumours that followed, still. You both did. You were in love with each other, not the whole world. Things would get complicated if you announced you were dating. You were vying for a Formula 1 seat and you wanted it without Daniels’ influence.

But at the following race in Baku you were asked similar questions.

“Your shoey last week, did that have anything to do with Daniel Ricciardo being there to cheer you on? You two have gotten pretty close in the last few months, he’s one of your mentors, isn’t he?”

You shifted your weight to one leg, wondering what the fuck kind of post-qualifying question that was. You had just completed three back to back podiums, you were on a hot streak now, starting third at this next race and the reporter only cared about what happened at the podium celebration last weekend.

“Sorry, did you have a question about this week's race?” You asked, and when he stammered over his words, you just nodded and walked away, a tight smile on your face.

Daniel’s conversation went a bit differently.

“Y/N’s shoey last week, we all saw it. Was that your influence?”

“Yeah I never thought she’d actually do it, it was sweet,” Daniel laughed. “It was great though, I happily pass the tradition onto her.”

“She’s really come along in Formula 2 since she started back in 2020, do you think she has what it takes to be Formula 1’s first full-time female driver?”

“Absolutely,” there wasn’t a shred of doubt or hesitation. He was happy to talk about you, to explain to the rest of the world why you were up and coming and should be taken seriously as a real contender for a Formula 1 seat. He probably would have continued on if his PR rep hadn’t pulled him away, reminding him of other duties.

The next few races were similar to your first ones. A couple more podiums, some outstanding qualifying sessions, more history being made. Your phone was blowing up weekly, everybody wanted to talk to you now and you knew Daniel had something to do with it. Him constantly sharing the faith he had in you did wonders for your reputation.

You might have been on top of the world, but you were well aware you were alone up there.

Daniels’ performances were anything but newsworthy. He had gotten a few points in Austria and France, but nothing to be extremely proud of, especially when he compared his 9th place finish at the Red Bull Ring to your first place podium, making it your second one this season.

He never let his disappointment for himself and McLaren stand in the way of your achievements. In fact, you didn’t often speak about the races when you were together. You were aware Daniel was having issues with the team, with Zak, with the car, but he didn’t want to weigh you down with his own problems, even though you assured him time and time again you could handle it.

Really, if Daniel had come to you with his struggles, you would have thought twice when Zak Brown approached you prior to the Hungarian Grand Prix. You probably would have slammed the door to your drivers room in his face if you knew how Daniel was being treated at McLaren.

But Daniel held his cards close to his chest while Zak laid his all out on the table.

“If a spot opened up for you,” he said, after spending the last ten minutes talking about the rich history of the team and praising your accolades. “Would you consider it?”

It wasn’t an official contract, just the start of a conversation that could lead to one.

Of course you thought of Daniel. And Lando, having grown close with him simply through Daniel.

“For 2024?” You asked, knowing both of them were set to continue driving through to at least the end of 2023.

“No,” Zak shook his head. You didn’t like how harsh his tone had turned, having no remorse for what he was about to say. “Daniel’s contract would be ending early.”

You leaned back in your chair, fingers tapping the table as you tried to recall Daniel ever telling you that he was leaving McLaren. “Is he- he wants out?”

“It’s mutual,” Zak assured you. “He knows we can’t give him the car he wants and unfortunately, he’s not delivering what we need. We had high hopes with Daniel, but the working relationship isn’t what any of us thought it would be.”

It’s mutual. Those two words was all it took to convince you that Zak Brown and Daniel had already had a conversation about this, about terminating the contract a year early.

It didn’t help that Zak brought up your test sessions in the McLaren from last year, pointing out that you had better times than Lando, even. He went on to praise what you were doing this year at Prema and said, multiple times, that you would be an asset to McLaren should you choose to go that route.

And who were you to turn that down?

A team principal of a Formula 1 team wanted to sign you. Was it unfortunate that it was Daniel’s seat? Yes, obviously this situation was less than ideal, but he wanted out. You were convinced he wanted out, that he was done with McLaren. A 45 minute conversation with Zak Brown convinced you of that.

You should have been wary when at the end of the conversation he said, “Don’t tell anyone about this, yet. You know how the public can be, let’s just keep this to ourselves for the meantime.”

“But I can talk to Dan, right?” You asked.

Zak knew you were dating Daniel, it was a little harder to hide that from his team than it was the rest of the world. Maybe that’s why hesitated before answering, knowing that keeping a secret, something as big as this, from a partner had the potential to cause chaos.

But he shook his head, “Between us, yeah?”

And you listened to him. You wanted that Formula 1 seat so of course you followed orders.

You desperately wanted to talk to Daniel about it, but you knew you couldn’t. And either he sensed that something was off, or he was dealing with his own problems again and wouldn’t share, you really couldn’t tell when the summer break started and things just seemed…different.

You didn’t go to Monaco for starters, even though Daniel invited you to. But there were so many meetings with Zak and the board at McLaren that it made more sense for you to stay in London for the start of the break.

Daniel didn’t call as often and you wanted to give him space, knowing that this break was probably needed for him. You expected he was out with friends, letting loose, getting the weight of a horrible season off his back even if just temporarily.

The plan was to go to Monaco for the last week and a half and then travel to Belgium together. You had to delay that plan, however, when Zak called you and said it was official.

The 2023 seat was yours.

You wanted to celebrate, with Daniel, but how could you celebrate with the person you were replacing?

It was strange that Daniel had said nothing to you about leaving the team during the summer break, especially since Zak had said time and time again they were on the same page, that Daniel was ready to leave. The only thing that crossed your mind was he was given strict instructions to not say anything to anyone either, at least until McLaren went public with the news.

But with it being official, with you having just signed on the dotted line, you were tired of keeping it to yourself. You may not have been able to share the news with anyone else, but you had a right to have a conversation with Daniel about it.

You didn’t know how he would react. Surely he’d be happy for you, right? You were getting a seat in Formula 1, something that both of you desperately wanted to happen. And again, you were under the impression the departure from McLaren was mutual. He would be happy that someone he loved was taking his seat, right?

Right?

You had to tell yourself that the entire ride over to his place. You unlocked the front door to his building and took the elevator up to the fourth level. You didn’t think to knock, knowing he never locked it when he was home so you pushed open the door and stepped in, your suitcase trailing behind you.

You were happy to see him. He was always a breath of fresh air, despite the odd distance between you, you still loved him. You always would. He muted whatever was playing on the screen and stood up from the couch when he heard you walk in.

Usually, Daniel would greet you with a kiss.

Usually, he’d be smiling so hard his jaw would be hurting.

Usually, he was happy to see you.

You left the suitcase by the door and met him halfway, only he stopped walking when there was about a foot of space between your bodies. To you, it felt like you were still miles apart.

“Do you have something you want to tell me?” He asked, arms crossed over his chest.

Your heart sank.

You had convinced yourself, Zak had convinced you, the whole back of house team had convinced you, that Daniel was aware of this upcoming change. That the termination was mutual. You taking his seat might have been a surprise, but it was never supposed to be a blindside.

“What do you know?” you asked.

“What do you know?” Daniel repeated the question back to you.

You were both fully aware of the exact same information. Daniel was leaving. You were taking his seat. Only, you had been informed this much earlier than he had.

“What was I supposed to do?”

“Not take the seat,” he scoffed. “My god, I mean, they’re cutting my contract early, Y/N. For you.”

“For the sake of the team,” you said and then added, “You don’t even like McLaren. You’ve struggled with this team since day one.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to stop racing.”

“McLaren is not the team for you and you know this.”

Daniel scoffed, eyebrows twitching, “Did Zak tell you to say that?”

“Zak-” you started, finding it difficult to hold his stare. This wasn’t the Daniel you knew. “-he doesn’t know I’m here. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to talk to you or anyone about it, not until your announcement comes out.”

He rubbed his hands over his face, taking a few steps away from you. It hurt, watching as he tried to physically distance himself from you. Like being in too close of proximity would set him off.

“I struggled with the team, yes, but I’m not ready to give up racing. You have now left me without a seat.”

It was easy for Daniel to blame you, you were standing right in front of him. You were quite literally the driver set to replace him.

But the real villain was Zak, for not having opened up this line of communication earlier. For making you believe everyone was on the same page. It was Zak’s fault for rushing to end the contract with Daniel instead of putting in the effort to work with him. He saw the shiny new toy that was you, that Daniel helped create, and he wasn’t going to let someone else take it first.

Daniel wanted to blame himself too, but he wouldn’t let himself think about that until much later. He was the one who did everything he could to help you grow in this sport. He was the one who introduced you to Zak and the rest of the McLaren team. He was the one who got you in the car for the practice sessions, his car. Foreshadowing at its finest.

“You are unbelievable,” Daniel spoke quietly, heated with anger but his words were like ice as they sunk deep into you. “After everything I’ve done to help you for you to betray me like this, I just- I don’t think-”

You knew where this was going and you wanted to put a pin in it before he could finish any of his thoughts.

“Don’t finish that sentence, Daniel,” you whispered. “Please. Please, we can figure something out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” his mind was made up. “You took my seat.”

“Wouldn’t you rather it me than someone you don’t know? Someone you don’t trust?” You tried to turn this around, have him look at the positives, if there were any. “Daniel, everyone on the grid loves you, you’ll find a new team. One that helps you grow and get to where you want. McLaren isn’t that, we both know it.”

“I think you should go,” was his only response.

“If I hadn’t signed that contact, someone else would have,” you pointed out, grasping at straws here, painfully honest straws, but straws nonetheless. “Piastri, O’Ward…McLaren had options, Dan. Aren’t you at least happy for me that I out-qualified all of those guys?”

Daniel actually laughed, “You want me to be happy for you? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Dan-”

“Leave.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“You need to,” he was stern. He was angry. He was done. With you, with the team, with everything he used to love and cherish. He was done.

You thought you knew Daniel. You thought you knew how this conversation would play out. You figured it would still be rocky, but god you now realised how naive you were to believe you could still make things work.

“I love you,” you told him, because what else could you say except remind him that you were so hopelessly in love with him, that he was all you would ever want in life.

Except, that wasn’t exactly true, was it?

You wanted a seat in Formula 1 too. You just never thought you’d have to sacrifice one dream for the other.

Daniel’s stare was cold. He only looked away for a second to nod his head towards the door behind you, “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have done this.”

You stepped forward, desperate at this point because how could he do this? How could he throw away what you had, over a seat?

Or was it you, who had ultimately thrown away what you had when you sat down with Zak Brown all those weeks ago?

It pained you to think about the strong possibility of that being the case.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, because you were. You were sorry about how this turned out, how he was betrayed, how this was coming to an end. You grabbed hold of your suitcase and nodded, backing up towards the door, “I really am sorry, Dan.”

He didn’t believe you. Why would he? In his eyes, Formula 1 was more important to you than he was. A career decision that benefited you, but ruined him, mattered more than your relationship. It was a bold move, a cold move, one that you didn’t think would lead to this.

Neither of you could have predicted this. On September 3rd, 2020, when Daniel first said he wanted to work with you, neither of you thought it would end like this.

Just as you grabbed the handle of the door, Daniel opened his mouth, wanting to get the final word in. And you really wished he hadn’t because those final words destroyed you.

“I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life, but I never thought you would turn out to be one of them.”

You said nothing. You walked out of that Monaco flat with your head low and your heart even lower. You couldn’t even be excited about the next season, or the remainder of this one where you had the potential to finish in the top three.

You weren't happy, you were empty, you were defeated. And painfully so, you were also still in love.

Despite what was said, you knew it would take a while to get over Daniel. He was your rock for so long, he was always there for you and even though he could disappear without so much as a second thought, your feelings couldn’t, the memories couldn’t. It would take a long time until you felt whole again.

You didn’t know it yet, but the decision to take that McLaren seat would haunt you as you moved forward in your career.

This was not going to be the last time you ever saw Daniel.

stay tuned for part 2

1K notes View Post

ccallistata

1 year ago

His Love |Aegon II Targaryen x FemReader| Master List

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen.

You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen

Part Sixteen

Part Seventeen

Part Eighteen

Part Nineteen

Part Twenty

Part Twenty-One

Spotify Playlist

YouTube Playlist

All typical Game of Thrones/House of The Dragon warnings apply to this story, but I will put specific ones above each chapter.

1K notes View Post

ccallistata

3 years ago

I freaking love this ❤️😭😭😭

Reggie x Reader: Fingers and thumbs, baby. (Epilogue)

A/N: SIKE BITCHEEEES. Y’ALL REALLY THINK I’D LEAVE IT LIKE THAT!? HELL NAH YOUR MOTHER HAS RETURNED TO PROVIDE LOVE YA XXX

Plot: When Reggie and (Y/N) have been bestfriends their whole lives but the universe had other plans.

Samantha stole another glance at the tall, gorgeous boy that seemed so keen on listening to everything that was coming out of their boring professor’s mouth. He was popular and friendly but still somehow remained a mystery, always kept to himself. Everybody was practically in love with him because aside from his well-built physique, friendly nature, and willingness to help those who need it he had this certain aura of vagueness around him which seemed to drag everyone in, makes them want to unlock more. As if there is so much more to be discovered aside from the glimpses of personalities he shows the world but nobody ever had the chance to be that close. Everybody knew him but at the same time nobody actually did.

When their professor finally ended his discussion Samantha stood up, ready to take the first step to become the first person to have the honor of actually knowing Reggie Mantle.

Or so she thought.

“H-Hey, Reggie?”

He looked at her before gracing her with a smile, making her heart beat twice as fast. “Hey, Samantha,” He adjusted his gym bag on his shoulders, probably preparing himself for his daily training. “Need anything?”

“Y-Yeah, actually, I was wondering,” she closed her eyes for a second to gather some courage. “Would you – would you like to get some coffee with me? Some time? If you’re not too busy.”

She swallowed as she waited for his response, afraid to look at his face for any sign of rejection. Then she heard a sigh and knew it was game over. She heard the stories, the rumors, how no one stood a chance because:

“Sorry, Sam,” Reggie really sounded sympathetic and she hated it. “I – I have someone –“

“I know.” Samantha smiled, sadly, successfully cutting him off. She looked up at him despite the pain. “What a lucky girl.” She whispered more to herself than anything but Reggie seemed to hear it.

Reggie smirked before shaking his head. “You got it all mixed up, Sam.” Reggie said. “I’m the one who got lucky.”

He patted her head before walking away.

“W-What’s her name?” Samantha asked. Curious as to who got this beautiful boy’s fancy and got him hooked that he couldn’t even look at another girl ever again. Reggie’s mind immediately went to the memory of your smile, the way you’re hair danced messily in the wind when you were in the passenger seat of his car, the echo of your laugh in his room as you wore his shirt while running your hand across his hair, your beautiful 5 o’clock shadow as you stared outside the windows of Pop’s with the neon lights making you look ethereal and seraphic.

Samantha noticed that Reggie’s mind seemed to disappear to a happy place because he beamed, almost shining with happiness. Another glimpse, she thought, Reggie was really full of surprises and secrets.

“If I tell you, I might have to kill you.”

All the boys stared as Cheryl and (Y/N) walked together, with their arms crossed, talking quietly among themselves. How the meanest and nicest girls of the entire building managed to become bestfriends was beyond them but they would be lying if they say they weren’t a sight to behold. Especially (Y/N), known to be the kindest soul to ever grace their halls, who was always willing to extend a helping hand and always treat everybody with respect. A lot of boys tried to win her heart but none was very successful, in fact not qa single one even came close, because aside from the Red Widow by her side, a nickname she earned because of her careful yet poisonous words and her dedication to guard the little angel of New York University everybody gets the same response from her every time: a kind rejection. The kind of rejection that makes them feel bad for even trying and putting her through the dilemma of even rejecting them.

One poor soul gripped the bouquet of roses in his hands before daring to walk towards their table and try his luck, eyes on the back of (Y/N)’s head. He gave himself a mental pep talk trying not to chicken out but all of those words of inspiration and prayers were obliterated when he caught Cheryl’s eyes.

Cheryl seemed bored and emotionless, head resting on her palm, as she stared at another clueless boy trying to vouch for her bestfriend’s affection. She gave him the smallest glare, which usually meant ‘scram’ or ‘fuck off’, and smirked as she saw him make a 90 degree turn before walking out straight out the library.

“Cherry, stop scaring people.” (Y/N), who apparently wasn’t really focusing on her advanced reading, chuckled. “You’ll never get a boyfriend if you keep that up.”

Cheryl scoffed and flipped her long, almost fiery in this lighting, red hair. “Nobody deserves me, darling, and we both know it.”

“No we don’t,” You stared at her. “You should give them a chance.”

“That’s rich coming from you, sweetie.” Cheryl shot back making you blush. “Why don’t you give those unfortunate souls who are just begging for a glance from the angel of their dreams, a chance?”

You blushed even more. “You—I – You know I’m not into that, Cherry.”

“Uh-huh, yeah, who you tryna fool?” Cheryl smirked, crossing her arms across her chest and leaning back on her chair. “And please, he was carrying roses, how cliché right? The right man would know you’re more of a sunflower girl.” She smirked. “Too bad the right man is in a far far away kingdom.”

You managed to give her a glare despite the heat on your face but she just laughed at your effort in looking mad. You just rolled your eyes, heart beating a little too fast at the memory of him.

“I’m just, such a good friend.” Cheryl dramatically fanned her face, as if she was about to cry, speaking a little too loudly in the library. “That bastard better be fucking grateful and buy me a Victorian-inspired mansion for all my effort in making sure his lil’ lovebird doesn’t get snatched by worthless peasants.”

“Cherry stop,” you whined trying to remove the attention away from the two of you, knowing nobody would have the guts to try and make her quiet but you.

“I’m gonna guilt-trip him his whole life, you just wait.”

“We don’t even know if he is still single.”

“Oh, we know.”

“How? I mean have you seen him? Boy’s like that doesn’t stay single for very long time in college.”

“Because I know him, and that boy is about as gone for you as you are for him,” Cheryl stated confidently. “And if you weren’t sure he is single, why are you still rejecting everybody left and right? Unless …”

“You are crazy.” You shook your head, not wanting to feed yourself any more false hopes. You don’t even know where in God’s green Earth he was staying at right now. You haven’t talked for almost four years now. You could but you decided not to because getting a little taste of that heaven will make you want him and miss him more and you don’t want to be running back to him when you are this close to your goal. That reunion will have to wait, and it seems like he was thinking the same thing, too.

Is he treating himself well?

Is he surrounded by good people?

Is he happy?

Does anything remind him of you? Even for just a second?

“(Y/N),” Cheryl was staring at something in her phone, eyes wide in shock. Whatever it was must be something big to actually surprise Cheryl. Cheryl shoved her phone at you as you read the article about a certain raven-haired boy that just won the Nationals in Indiana. “Point six hundred million for Cheryl. God, I hate being right all the time”

You ignored her as you read how Reggie Mantle, the captain, basically carried the whole game towards their victory with his agility, strategy, and strength. You reread the last paragraph of the article:

Mantle is not only a spectacular athlete but he is also an outstanding student with his top marks which will result to the possibility of him graduating as the top of his class. How he managed to balance his responsibilities, Reggie Mantle gave us an answer that left more questions than answers:

“You could say I have a pretty solid foundation and inspiration.” He said with a grin. “Though she is probably studying hard in New York too.”

Who is this mysterious lady that snatched Reggie Mantle’s heart? The world may never know.

“Hey man,” Reggie returned back to Earth when he heard his roommate, soon to be ex-roommate, in their toga with a big grin on his face. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Reggie took his hands and gave him a half-hug and a pat on the back. “I’ll see you.”

Jake plopped down on his bed, one last time probably. “Can’t believe you’re going pro, man. That’s big.”

“I know,” Reggie chuckled, picking up a football from the ground. “Even I still can’t believe it.”

“Well, as for me it’s the boring old office work.”

Reggie gave him a look before throwing at him the football which he caught with a lot of effort. “Shut up, Jake, you got a girlfriend who’s smart. She got you.”

Jake smirked. “Yeah she’s still pretty bummed about not getting that journalism job. She really wanted it.”

“I can’t believe someone actually beat Janine. Must be some miracle.” Jake’s girlfriend, Janine, was like a machine when it comes to her studies. So it came as a shock to everyone when she came barging in their room crying about how she did not get accepted to her dream job.

“Yeah, she told me it was taken by some monster that graduated from New York,” Jake chuckled. “Kept whining how the world is unfair cause the said monster was drop dead gorgeous, smart, and is now holding her dream job by the neck on her first try.”

“Wai- wait, back up,” Reggie stood up. “Did … did Janine say what the name of this said New York monster was?”

Jake seemed to think for a second and Reggie was literally on his tiptoes from the suspense. “I forgot man, I guess it was (Y/N) or something? I forgot the last na—“

Jake was cut off by Reggie’s jaw dropping in shock before genuinely laughing. Throughout their four years of being friends Jake has never seen Reggie this happy, even during his championship game. Reggie looked at Jake who was looking at him as if he grew a second head.

“Holy shit! I’m so sorry, man.” Reggie laughed once more, patting his shoulders sympathetically. “In behalf of her, let me apologize.”

“What do you mean?” Jake asked, genuinely confused.

“The New York monster that took the job from your girl?”

“Yeah …”

“That’s my girl.”

You just finished face timing Cheryl that was now living in London for some business transaction and she couldn’t stop bitching about the rain ruining her hair, which, in turn, just gave you something to laugh about.

“Good morning, stranger,” your favorite barista greeted you as you leaned in the counter.

“Hello, outsider,” You greeted her back. “Can I get my regular and a muffin?”

“Oooh muffin, you’re being a rebel today, huh?” she snickered as she handed you your favorite drink and a fresh muffin.

“I like to remain unpredictable.” You said as you handed her the exact amount and placed a twenty on the tip box.

“See you tomorrow, outsider.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

You sighed as the hot drink touch your tongue, fucking heaven. As you were about to go in your car you felt a small tug on your coat. You turned around and saw a cute little kid that had gorgeous curly locks hiding a sunflower behind his back.

“Hey, there little bud.” You leaned down to minimize the distance between you and the kid. “Are you lost?” You looked around you. “Where’s your mum—“

You were cut off when he suddenly shoved you the sunflower in his handsand ran before disappearing right around the corner.

“What the …” You cracked a smile despite your confusion and saw a small card tied around the sunflower with a note that read:

There’s more from where that came from.

“What?”

Just as you were about to look for the little boy a tall figure suddenly appeared from your peripheral view. And just like in your wildest dreams, there he was: standing in front of you, beautiful as ever, holding a bouquet of sunflowers and wearing that smirk that made your stomach flip in the most beautiful way possible ever since you were kids.

“Reggie …”

Before you could utter another word he sped up his last two steps and cradled your face with his free hand for a kiss. A kiss, a kiss that you have imagined over and over again, a kiss that was foreign yet so goddamn familiar from the amount of times you have dreamt and daydreamed about it. A kiss from Reggie Mantle was all it took for your heart to beat the same irregular beats that was reserved only for him.

I took you a moment to recover from the shock but when you did you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him in deeper. You waited too long for this kiss and you never wanted it to end and he probably had the same thought in mind. But sadly, like everything amazing, it had to, or else you were gonna die from lack of oxygen.

Reggie leaned in your forehead and laughed just as you started to giggle. “I guess you missed me?” you whispered.

“You have no idea, pup.” You started tearing up, not believing that after all these years he was finally here in your arms, looking at you with the same dark eyes and intense gaze that makes you want to melt.

“I’m – “

“I love you.” Reggie made her forget her train of thoughts with those words. “If the kiss didn’t make it clear enough. I, Reggie Mantle, is in love with you and swears to be in love with you in this lifetime and the next.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Pulling him in for another kiss. “Promise?” You offered him your pinky.

He laughed, crossing both of pinkies and pushed both of your fists and thumbs together.

“Promise.” He gave you another peck. “And, I believe you owe me a date.”

“Oh, do I now?” you teased, giggling when he tried to kiss your neck. “Where would you like to go?”

“I waited for years for this date, pup,” he said letting go of your face as he opted to wrap his arms around your shoulders as you wrapped yours around his waist. He gave you the bouquet which you held with your free hand. “I’ll go wherever the fuck you want.”

Breaking News! After dating for three years and being engaged in one, star football player, Reggie Mantle and his fiancé’ the award winning journalist and published author, (Y/F/N), has officially tied the knot in secret in their hometown, Riverdale, with only a chosen few people present, one note-worthy guest was Mrs. Mantle’s best friend, Cheryl Blossom, the CEO of Blossom Inc. and world-renowned author of two award-winning novels in her spare time. It was said to be a big event despite the small town in Riverdale as stolen shots were taken of the grand wedding for the official photographs of the wedding was announced to be kept in private and not to be publicized in the request of the couple.

This power-couple had been best friends their whole lives and decided to tie the knot right after Reggie Mantle surprised his, now, wife with her dream house in California where they were rumored to finally settle. The couple is about to head into their 2-month honeymoon that will be spent in different cities around the world that they have planned to visit ever since they were kids.

After you’re done crying and emptying your box of tissue we dare you to find us a more perfect couple, we’ll wait.

(Y/N) was breathing in the fresh air from the morning breeze. She stared at the view from her balcony: the trees, the lake, and the city far, far away. Reggie really thought everything through when he built this house just for her. He built her a home where she is safe, contented, and happy and she could never thank him enough.

She jumped a bit when she felt a fluffy blanket, which turned out to be her robe, being wrapped around her by none other than her husband. Even after a year and a half of being married she still feels giddy thinking about Reggie being her husband. Finally.

“You okay?” Reggie whispered, afraid of breaking this serene moment as he hugged you from behind and gave you a peck on the side of your head.

You decided to face your husband and give him a proper good morning kiss, wrapping your arms on his waist as he wrapped his arms around you. “I feel perfect.” You nuzzled your face on his warm neck relishing on the comfort only he can give you. You looked up at him and saw him looking out at the view before turning his eyes on you making you wonder what you did in your past life to have a man like him to keep forever.

“We’re in love, aren’t we?”

He chuckled at your question before leaning hooking a stray hair in your ear. “I can’t speak for you but you got me pretty hooked, pup.” You looked up at him through your lashes to give him a glare as if to say ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ and Reggie grinned, the same boyish grin from when you were in Riverdale, giving you another kiss

“You don’t have to worry about that for a very, very long time, pup.” Reggie sighed, pulling you closer to him, as if that was possible.”Your heart won’t break around here. I’ll make sure of that.”

You squealed when he leaned down and hooked his arms at the back of your thighs and sat down, taking you in his lap. You watched as the sun rose quietly, sharing the morning coffee you made to help you get ready for the day, small kisses and giggles shared every now and then and in that exact moment you realized you could stay there forever and already find the life that was your definition of perfect

But then on cue you heard the familiar wailing of your two other babies on their bedroom making you giggle and Reggie groan, leaning on your shoulders. “Oh stop it, you were the one who was begging me for a baby.”

“I asked for one baby, pup. Just one, I’m blaming your fertile ass for this.” Reggie complained but was still ahead of you towards his babies room. He loved being a father and everybody knows it. When you were pregnant anxious would be an understatement when defining Reggie as he watched your every move and made sure you were eating only the best to make sure his babies would grow to become ‘as strong as me and as beautiful as their mother’. Heck, nobody could touch you without receiving a glare from Reggie which in turn would result to you smacking him in the head as he pouted but still continued to follow you around like a lost guard dog.

“Or we could blame you fucking me 12 times a day, every day? How about that?” You shot back.

“Hush, (Y/N/N), “ Reggie said as he cradled Cherry on his right arm and picked up the older twin, Jason, on the other. “My babies can hear you.”

“Oh they’re your babies now—“

“TOUCHDOWN BITCHES!” You heard the all too familiar slamming of the door open and Cheryl’s voice from below. “WHERE ARE MY DEAR DARLINGS?!”

“I can’t believe I actually gave that woman a spare key.” Reggie sighed, making you giggle. “Since when did she arrive from London?”

“Come on now,” you said as you took Cherry from Reggie making him pout. God, his daughter had him whipped. “Let’s go down before Cheryl wrecks havoc in here too.”

“I gotta share everything with her,” Reggie complained to a now sleeping Jason, as he went downstairs and saw Cheryl with a dollhouse and a toy car that looked too expensive and too realistic to be owned by a couple of 7 month old babies .”One day I’ll just snap and assassinate her, I swear to God.”

“I heard that, you ass!”

“You needed to hear it, satan!”

You couldn’t help but watch as Reggie and Cheryl bickered back and forth while Jason was silently sleeping in his crib and Cherry was babbling nonsense while sitting comfortably in your lap.

“Listen here Poison Ivy wanna-be, you’re spoiling my kids and they don’t even have the mental capacity to be spoiled yet.” Reggie complained.

“I am their godmother I can do what I want because I am richer than their father.”

“Excuse me,” Reggie seemed genuinely offended and you couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Who’s richer than who’ has been a small game in between Reggie and Cheryl, heck, even Archie, who is now an international song artist, and Moose who is an owner of a couple of successful gyms would join every now and then.

I guess nothing really ever truly changed. Reggie and Cheryl just can’t admit they love each other with a gun aimed at their heads, you were still hopelessly in-love with your husband, and he still looks at you as if you were the reason the sun continues to shine every morning. Only now you had two little angels to call your own and more money than you can spend.

Not bad for a shy girl from Riverdale who was secretly in love with her bestfriend.

You looked at your family, once more. Leaning back, placing Cherry on your chest, you sighed in contentment.

Not bad at all.

A/N: I’m gonna miss writing this so fucking much. Fuck.

Taglist

@captainsuperfangirl

@kimberlymazel

@annoyingsibling

@ooh-hannahsun

@belbow

@courageouslystupid

856 notes View Post

ccallistata

1 year ago

Twin Flame Masterlist

All parts linked below the cut :)

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen

Part Sixteen

Part Seventeen

Part Eighteen

Part Nineteen

Part Twenty

Part Twenty-One

Part Twenty-Two

Part Twenty-Three

Part Twenty-Four

Part Twenty-Five

Epilogue

440 notes View Post

ccallistata

1 year ago

f1letters' formula 1 fic recs - pt. 1

✨ SURPRISE! ✨ as an early Christmas gift for all of you, and since I will be continuing the 'midnights' series during the holiday season as well, I decided to make a small list with some of my all-time favourite stories!

I tried to include a variety of different drivers to the best of my ability, which was harder than I thought it would be, since some drivers don't have a lot of stories available (every single person writes for alex, lance or esteban deserves a giant smooch from me, I swear), or I don't read them as much. for other ones, I have like 20+ stories saved so it was really hard to stick to only a few! haha

anyways, I hope you enjoy this little present from me and I encourage you guys to check out all of these amazing and talented writers!

happy holidays to all of you lovely people! 💜 - cat

max verstappen | mv1

'long time lovers' || @libraryofloveletters

'little verstappen' || @lxclerc

'traitor' || @lxclerc

'dog days' || @tierneysodegaard || 13 parts

'our dirty little secret' || @timetorace || 2 parts

daniel ricciardo | dr3

'stargazing' || @art-outlaw || 28 parts

'memories hold me hostage' || @libraryofloveletters || 2 parts

'you abandoned me' || @lovingperfectionsblog || 2 parts

'sweet boy' || @unluckyhoneybee

'twin flame' || @vinvantae || 26 parts

lando norris | ln4

'breaking the rules' || @f1goat || 7 parts

'mini norris' !! @unluckyhoneybee || 2 parts

sebastian vettel | sv5

'after all this time' || @kates-dirty-sister

'chapters from an old book' || @libraryofloveletters

'thin walls' || @tierneysodegaard

pierre gasly | pg10

'pillow' || @illicitlimerence-writes || 4 parts

'one true love' || @mytinycrazymind

'secret' || @mytinycrazymind

'fake it till you make it' || @smoooothoperator || 6 parts

charles leclerc | cl16

'a moment in time' || @hey-kae || 2 parts

'babies and bahrain' || @illicitlimerence-writes

'little enzo' || @mytinycrazymind || 2 parts

'maybe summer doesn't have to end' || @rebelwrites || 11 parts

'the real deal' || @rebelwrites

lance stroll | ls18

'sugar plum' || @libraryofloveletters || 2 parts

'summer lovin' || @libraryofloveletters

'yule shoot your eye out' || @lovelytsunoda

'the second one' || @unluckyhoneybee

alex albon | aa23

'made in the a.m' || @lovelytsunoda

esteban ocon | eo31

'hot n cold' || @lovelytsunoda

'be my date' || @timetorace || 2 parts

lewis hamilton | lh44

'love you from the sidelines' || @libraryofloveletters

'old flame' || @lostinlewis || 5 parts

'what you can't have' || @luvth0t

mick schumacher | ms47

'dress' || @daydreamingleclerc

'lost in japan' || @illicitlimerence-writes

'romeo & juliet' || @illicitlimerence-writes

'see you later' || @illicitlimerence-writes

'sparkling' || @illicitlimerence-writes

carlos sainz | cs55

'in this lifetime or another' || @libraryofloveletters

'cockblock' || @lxclerc

'nothing happened' || @timetorace

george russell | gr63

'never really over' || @charlewiss-writes

'who you belong to' || @russellsppttemplates

multiple drivers

'bad omens' || @lxclerc || cl16 x pg10

'moth to a flame' || @lxclerc || cs55 x cl16 || 2 parts

'all too well' || @targaryenluv || lh44 x pg10

'are you happy now?' || @oyesmendes || pg 10 x gr63 || 3 parts

PS: if you want, feel free to leave your recommendations in the comments and/or message me! i'm always looking for new fics to read and I'd love to know your favourites! 💜

865 notes View Post

ccallistata

1 year ago

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ↴

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

genre: angst, smut, fluff

warnings: contains mature themes, violence, substance abuse, alcohol use, addiction, sexually explicit scenes, assault (non-sexual)

↪ one

↪ two

↪ three

↪ four

↪ five

↪ six

↪ seven

↪ eight

↪ nine (coming soon)

1K notes View Post

ccallistata

2 years ago

Little Wolf Masterlist (Ubbe x Reader)

Little Wolf Masterlist (ON HOLD)

Summary: Ubbe falls in love with you despite you warning him that your father - Fenrir - won’t approve of his love, considering that it was Ubbe’s grandfather - Odin - that ordered him to be chained. When certain situations arise and fates are carried out, your mind turns in such a way that you think you might have a way to persuade your father to feel differently towards Ubbe. (In collaboration with @ladywolf44005)

Warnings: Specific in each part

Prologue

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

247 notes View Post

ccallistata

1 year ago

The Impossible Choice Series Masterlist 🤎

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • fem!reader]

[warnings: sex content, oral sex, smut, angst, domination, swearing, physical violence, murder]

The Impossible Choice Series Masterlist 🤎

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

• This is ongoing series and I will upload new chapters here •

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 - Part 26 - Part 27 - Part 28 - Part 29 - Part 30 - Part 31 - Part 32 - Part 33 - Part 34 - ?

Lady Baratheon Moodboard

Prince Aemond Moodboard

Lady Baratheon Gowns Moodboard

Princess Helaena Moodboard

Alys Rivers Moodboard

Music Themes Moodboard

Storm's End Stronghold Moodboard

Baratheon Family Moodboard

1K notes View Post

ccallistata

7 months ago

damn