#Direct Drive Racing Simulators

[pucksandpower]

Fixer Upper

Max Verstappen x interior designer!Reader

Summary: Max Verstappen is the most frustrating client you’ve ever dealt with … but maybe he can make it up to you

“How about some pops of color in here?” You suggest brightly, gesturing around the stark white walls of Max Verstappen’s new Monaco penthouse.

The Dutch driver sniffs, glancing up briefly from his phone. “No thanks. I like it plain.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Of course he does. You’ve been working with Max for two weeks now trying to decorate his new home, but so far he’s shot down every single idea you’ve proposed.

As an interior designer based in a principality known for catering to the rich and famous, you’re used to difficult clients, but Max may just take the cake. Still, you’re determined to give him the space he desires … if you can only figure out what that is.

“Alright, plain it is,” you say evenly. “But we should at least add some artwork, don’t you think? Something modern and sleek could look fantastic against these walls.”

Max doesn’t even glance up this time. “No art. Don’t like it.”

You inhale slowly. “Okay, no problem. We’ll keep it artless.” Time to switch gears. You gesture to the expansive bank of windows along one wall. “These floor-to-ceiling windows are incredible, some of the best views in Monaco. We could do some fabulous seating here to take advantage of the natural light. Maybe a chaise lounge or two angled toward the harbor ...”

“Don’t need seating.” Max is focused on his phone, thumbs flying. “I’ll just put my sim rig there.”

Your eye twitches involuntarily. His racing simulator setup — in front of floor to ceiling windows overlooking the most coveted views in the principality? Absolutely not.

“Well,” you begin delicately, “Perhaps we could find another place for your sim, one that doesn’t obstruct the views quite so much. I’m sure we could-”

“No, I want it there,” Max interrupts flatly. “I like seeing the water while I drive.” His attention doesn’t waver from the screen in his hands.

You close your eyes briefly and take a calming breath. Alright. No color, no art, and a sim smack in front of priceless views. So much for design aesthetics. Time for a new tactic.

“You must do a lot of cooking,” you say brightly, turning towards the kitchen. “This is an amazing culinary space. We could do some open shelving with sleek finishes to highlight the quartz countertops.”

Silence. Max just gives a non-committal grunt, still absorbed by his phone.

You soldier on. “Or maybe some nice warm wood cabinetry for contrast? I have some fantastic artisan contacts who could do handmade custom designs.”

“Don’t cook much,” he mutters.

Your smile tightens. “Not to worry, we can keep the kitchen minimal too.” Is there anything, anything at all, you can propose that he won’t immediately shoot down? You’re starting to doubt it.

Switching to the living area, you smooth down your dress and try again. “For the living room, I was thinking we could do built-in bookcases along the back wall there, and maybe expose some of the original brick behind for an industrial chic look ...”

Max glances up from his phone to level an unimpressed look at you. “But we’re inside. Brick would make no sense.”

You close your eyes briefly. Of course not. “My mistake, you’re absolutely right,” you say through gritted teeth. Enough pussyfooting around. Time to be direct.

You plant yourself in front of where Max sits on the couch and place your hands on your hips. “Max, I’m going to be honest. I’m having trouble getting a sense of your style and vision for this space. You’ve rejected all my ideas so far.”

He blinks up at you blandly. “I don’t like any of your ideas. This is my place and I want to do what I want.”

You resist the urge to tear your hair out in frustration. “Of course, and I want you to have exactly what you want. But in order to do that, I need you to communicate with me. Tell me what kind of look and feel you envision for your home. Modern, traditional, minimalist? What colors and textures appeal to you?”

Max just shrugs, his attention already drifting back to his phone. “I don’t know. Just make it nice.”

Oh for god’s sake. You inhale slowly through your nose. “Perhaps you could show me some inspiration photos of interiors you like?”

“Nah, don’t feel like it.”

That’s it. You’ve had it with this infuriating man. You know you shouldn’t lose your cool with a client, but you’re at the end of your rope.

“Well, I’m afraid ‘make it nice’ doesn’t give me much to go on,” you snap sarcastically. “I can’t read your mind, Max. So unless you start providing concrete input on what you actually want, I’m resigning from this job.”

You expect anger, or at least surprise at your outburst. But Max just regards you evenly for a moment, then nods. “Okay, fair enough. The truth is ...” He pauses, looking faintly embarrassed. “I just wanted an excuse to spend more time around you.”

You blink, blindsided. “I’m sorry, what?”

A slight flush rises in Max’s cheeks. “I didn’t actually care about the decor that much. I just thought if I kept saying no to all your ideas, you’d have to stay involved with the project longer.” He gives you a sheepish smile. “Guess I took the stubborn client thing too far.”

You’re dumbfounded. And, if you’re being honest, a little charmed. “Let me get this straight — you’ve been wasting my time and driving me crazy for two weeks because you … have a crush on me?”

Max winces. “When you put it like that, I sound like an idiot.”

You have to laugh. “A bit, yeah.” But you can’t help but feel a warm flutter in your stomach too. You’ve always thought Max was cute in a boyish way. Knowing he orchestrated this whole thing just to spend time with you is, admittedly, very flattering. And more than a little endearing.

Max rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to be difficult on purpose. I just ...” He trails off with a helpless little shrug.

You take pity on him. Yes, leading you on a wild goose chase of rejected designs was unprofessional. But the hesitant smile he’s giving you now tugs at your heartstrings anyway.

“Well, I appreciate you coming clean,” you say gently. “How about we start fresh? I’d love to actually get your real input now on what you want.”

His smile widens, grey eyes lighting up. “Yeah?”

You can’t help but smile back. “On one condition.”

He nods eagerly. “Name it.”

“You take me to dinner.” You arch an eyebrow. “To make up for the stress you caused me over the past two weeks.”

Max lets out a surprised bark of laughter. “Deal.” He shakes his head ruefully. “I really made a mess of this, didn’t I?”

“Little bit, yeah.” You grin to soften the reproach. “Next time just ask me out for a drink. It’s a much more straightforward approach.”

“Duly noted.” He smiles sheepishly.

You move to sit next to him on the couch. “So tell me honestly, what kind of look are you picturing for this place?”

Max considers the blank canvas of a space. “Honestly, I’m open to anything you suggest. I trust your taste — I’ve seen your work before and it’s amazing.” His eyes meet yours. “But I do definitely want my sim rig with a view. That part wasn’t a lie.”

You laugh. “We can make that work.” Your gaze travels over the strong lines of his face, the mussed brown hair, the wry curve of his smile that makes your heart beat faster.

As you begin sketching possible layout options, you make a mental note to clear your schedule for dinner soon. Very soon.

***

“Well, this is … quite a space,” you say diplomatically as the hostess leads you and Max to your table.

You’re immediately assaulted by a riot of clashing colors and patterns as your gaze darts around the trendy restaurant he’s brought you to for dinner. Your trained designer’s eye picks out aesthetic atrocities everywhere you look.

An art deco mirror topped by an incongruous ultra-modern light fixture. Fussy rococo chairs paired with sleek metal tables. And dear god, is that shag carpeting?

“Yes, Le Chat Noir is very popular right now,” Max agrees, seemingly oblivious to the decor travesties surrounding you.

You hold your tongue as the hostess seats you. The haphazard decor choices are an assault on your senses, but you don’t want to seem rude on your first date with Max.

A server appears to take your drink orders. You welcome the distraction, busying yourself with the wine list. But as soon as he departs, Max leans forward, an amused glint in his eyes.

“Alright, I know that look. Out with it — what do you really think?”

You bite your lip. “What do you mean?”

He gestures broadly around. “Of all this.”

You hesitate. “The decor is certainly … interesting.”

Max grins. “I can tell you absolutely hate it.”

You wince. Damn, he’s perceptive. And here you were trying so hard to remain poker-faced.

“Sorry,” you say with an embarrassed laugh. “I was attempting to refrain from judgment, but it appears I failed.”

“No need to apologize.” He settles back in his chair. “Please, critique away. I want to hear your professional opinion.” His eyes dance with humor. “Don’t hold back.”

Well, far be it from you to turn down an invitation like that. As your drinks arrive, you take a fortifying sip of wine before launching in.

“Alright, you asked for it.” You set the glass down firmly. “This space is an absolute disaster from a design perspective. It’s like the interior decorator was blindfolded and threw darts at a wall covered in paint swatches and fabric samples. Nothing goes together at all.”

You point above your table. “That light fixture up there? Ultrasmack modern against 19th century crown molding? Make it make sense.”

Max chuckles. “Quite the mashup.”

You lean forward, on a roll now. “And this carpet!” You gesture in horror to the shag beneath your feet. “This trend needs to retire immediately. It looks like an avocado fucked a bear.”

Max nearly chokes on his drink. “A what now?”

You wave a hand. “You know what I mean. Just tragic.”

Sitting back, you take in the rest of the garish space. “The artwork over there is just hideous. And that tufted velvet on the booths makes me want to scream. Who decided olive green was an accent color that pairs well with anything?”

You turn back to Max, on a tirade now. “Honestly, nothing works. The proportions are bad, the color palette is an atrocity, the mixture of styles is absurd. It’s like the designer threw every conceivable element at the wall to see what would stick. I could have done a better job blindfolded after downing a bottle of tequila.” You finally stop for breath, cheeks flushed.

Max has an enormous grin on his face. “Wow. Tell me how you really feel.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help smiling too. “Sorry for the outburst. Like I said, feel free to tell me to zip it.”

“Are you kidding? I could listen to you shred this place all night.” Max shakes his head, looking delighted. “I’ve never seen you so worked up. It’s adorable.”

You blush, smoothing your hair self-consciously. “Oh hush. I just have … strong opinions when it comes to interior design choices.”

“Clearly.” Max’s eyes positively dance with affection. “I love how passionate you are. And your criticisms are spot on. This place really is horrendously designed.”

You blink in surprise. “Wait, you actually agree? You’re not just humoring me?”

He snorts. “Absolutely not. My knowledge doesn’t come remotely close to yours, but even I can tell everything in here clashes hideously.” He gestures at the table. “I mean, a wooden chair back with a metal seat? Just pick one material!”

You grin, happiness blossoming in your chest. It’s such a treat to have him validate your expert opinions instead of just patronizing them like many dates would. You launch eagerly back into listing all the ways the restaurant decor offends you, with Max chiming in occasional agreement or egging you on for more.

By the time your food arrives, you’ve dissected the lighting, furniture, textiles, and color schemes within an inch of their lives. Max watches you intently the whole time, blatantly enraptured by your critiques. Your wine glass is nearly empty from all the gesticulating.

“Well, I think that covers all the ways this interior design should be illegal,” you conclude, taking a bite of your meal. “Thanks for indulging me. I know I can get carried away analyzing spaces.”

“I could listen to you trash talk bad design forever.” Max can’t seem to rip his eyes away from yours. “I love how opinionated you are. And you look so damn sexy getting all fired up about it.”

A pleasurable shiver runs through you at his heated look. Maybe ripping this restaurant to shreds wasn’t the most conventional date conversation, but it clearly impressed Max. Nothing like a shared hatred of garish decor to bring two people together.

“Well, I’m glad one of us enjoys these tirades,” you laugh. You cock your head coyly. “Maybe I could come over sometime outside of work and critique your place again now that it’s shaping up. I’m sure I can find a few more things to complain about.”

Max’s eyes darken. “I’d like that.” He leans forward with a roguish smile. “Maybe we can get out of here and you can tell me all the ways you’d redesign the bedroom in my current apartment. You know, so we can avoid making those mistakes again while you help decorate my bedroom in the penthouse.”

You nearly choke on your wine, heat flooding your face. And lower regions. Goodness, Max’s flirty side really brings out your inner vixen.

You recover and stroke his ankle lightly with your heel under the table. “I’d be happy to provide any hands-on design consultation you require.”

Max sucks in a sharp breath, eyes blazing. The temperature between you two has risen about fifty degrees in the last few seconds. Suddenly you want nothing more than to leave this horribly designed restaurant and get him alone.

Immediately.

***

“A good mattress is crucial for proper sleep and recovery,” Max declares as you walk into the upscale furniture store together. “We need to test them thoroughly.”

You allow him to lead you to the mattress section, hiding a smile. When Max asked you to come mattress shopping with him for his new bedroom, you’d naively thought it would be a quick errand. But knowing Max, you should have guessed he’d take the task of “testing” mattresses very seriously.

An eager salesperson appears. “Welcome! Are we looking for any mattress in particular today?”

“We want to try them all,” Max announces, eyeing the rows of display beds keenly.

The salesperson falters. “Er, all of them?”

“How else will we know which is best?” Max shrugs as if this is obvious.

You squeeze his arm, charmed by his matter-of-fact logic. The salesperson forces a professional smile.

“Of course, take all the time you need.” He gestures expansively at the floor models. “I’ll be right here if you have any questions.”

“Excellent.” Max wastes no time striding over to the nearest bed. He sits, then lies back experimentally. “Hmm, decent firmness.” He pats the empty space beside him. “Come try it out.”

You curl up next to him, hiding your smile at the salesperson’s raised eyebrows. When you said you’d help Max pick out a mattress, this wasn’t what you pictured. But you have to admit, lying here with him is fun.

Max frowns. “Too much motion transfer when you move.” He sits up abruptly. “Next!”

You have to smother a laugh as you follow him to the next display. This no-nonsense methodism is peak Max. Systematic and entertainingly stubborn.

At the second bed, Max immediately starfishes spread-eagle. “Well? Get over here and test it with me. It’s the only way we’ll know.” He pats the mattress insistently.

You note the salesperson observing this display with thinly veiled disapproval. But Max just looks so irresistibly eager, you can’t help but indulge him.

You crawl onto the bed and cuddle up to him happily. “Mmm, this one’s nice. Great hugability.” You pretend to grab Max in a koala hold.

He laughs. “Agreed, good hugging potential.” Wrapping his arms around you, he shifts experimentally. “But the bounce is all wrong.” He releases you and sits up. “Next!”

And so it goes for the next hour as you enthusiastically demo mattress after mattress with Max. You try them on your backs, sides, fronts, analyzing the firmness levels and motion transfer. At one point you even test out the edge support — whatever that is — with Max insisting you sit together on the very side of the mattress frame.

“Considerable sag here,” Max murmurs against your ear, his arm firmly around your waist. You have to hide your shiver at his warm breath so close. “Could be problematic.”

The salesperson looks like he’s one demo away from throwing you both out. But Max either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. He cheerfully drags you from bed to bed, ticking off pros and cons on his fingers.

“Decent lumbar support, but it sleeps too hot.”

“Great responsiveness, but poor motion isolation.”

You’re having the time of your life. Testing mattresses was benign enough, but the excuse to crawl into bed with Max over and over has you both giddy. Each demo seems to involve increasingly creative configurations of your interlocked bodies as you evaluate firmness and ergonomics.

“I’m just not sure this is a good fit,” Max eventually concludes, frowning up at you from where you straddle his hips. His hands rest casually on your thighs, as if finding yourself atop a handsome man in a public place is perfectly routine mattress research.

You smother a laugh and climb off. “Valid analysis. Though some of the testing scenarios still need more data, I’d say.” You shoot him a coy look.

Max grins. “Agreed. Further testing required.”

The salesperson pointedly avoids looking at you both. “Perhaps you’d like to narrow down your top choices? I’m sure you have plenty of notes by now.” There’s a tautness to his professionalism that suggests you’ve stretched his patience to its limit.

But Max seems oblivious. “We’re not done yet! There are still at least half a dozen models we haven’t tried.” He takes your hand, pulling you toward a plush, pillow-topped display. “Now this one looks perfect for spooning. You little spoon first this time ...”

Mattress testing with Max, you’ve learned, is a delightful mix of structured analysis and shameless flirtation. You can’t remember ever having so much fun shopping. And based on Max’s boyish smile and lingering touches, the feeling is mutual.

“Too much dip in the middle,” Max tuts later, rolling you both gently across yet another mattress surface. “Though the close contact isn’t terrible.” His low voice in your ear makes you shiver.

You grin up at him coyly. “We should do an in-depth pressure point analysis next.”

Max smirks. “Crucial data to collect.”

Eventually, however, even Max’s enthusiasm starts to wane. “I think we have sufficient consumer testing results now,” he decides, pulling you up to sit beside him on the edge of a low platform bed.

You laugh. “That poor salesperson was ready to toss us out an hour ago.”

“Hey, we were conducting necessary R&D!” Max’s grey eyes twinkle. “But I am rather tired now ...”

He lies back, resting his head in your lap. You automatically begin stroking his hair and he sighs, eyes slipping closed. You take the opportunity to admire how sweet he looks, lips slightly parted and lashes fanned on his cheeks. Testing mattresses all afternoon seems to have worn him out.

You lean down to murmur in his ear. “Ready to take this mattress research home to really compare notes?”

One grey eye peeks open. “Mmm, home analysis does sound optimal.” His voice is raspy with fatigue in a way that melts you. “Wake me when it’s time to go?”

You brush a soft kiss to his forehead. “Of course.”

He nuzzles into your lap with a contented noise. Watching his breath deepen into sleep, you feel your heart overflow. There are a thousand reasons you adore Max, but these unexpectedly tender moments might top them all.

The salesperson reappears, offering you a pained smile. “So were you able to decide on a mattress today?”

You grin, fingers still carding through Max’s hair. “You know, I think we need to sleep on it a little longer.”

***

“Well, what do you think?” Max gestures with pride around his freshly competed penthouse.

You take it all in — the sleek but cozy furniture, the warm lighting, the pops of color — and smile. “It’s perfect. You have an incredible home now.”

He wraps an arm around your waist, gazing around. “I really couldn’t have done it without you. This place was a disaster before you came along.”

You lean into him happily. It’s been months since you first met Max and began working with him on decorating his new space. It was a battle at times, but you’re immensely proud of the final result.

“I’m honored I could help bring your vision to life,” you say sincerely. Though if you’re honest, the best part of this project was getting to know Max himself. The way his smile makes your heart flutter hasn’t diminished one bit.

Max turns you to face him, his expression soft. “I didn’t just get a beautifully designed home out of this. I got you.”

Your breath catches at the open affection in his eyes. Before you can respond, he dips his head and kisses you tenderly. You melt against him, the feel of his lips erasing any coherent thought.

When he finally draws back, his eyes are darker. “You know, there’s still one part of the place we haven’t officially christened yet.” He cocks his head toward the bedroom.

You bite your lip, pulse already quickening. “Is that so? Well, we should definitely perform a final inspection to confirm everything meets our standards.”

Max grins wolfishly, pulling you toward the bedroom. “Thorough testing is required.”

You laugh as he tugs you down onto the plush king mattress you’d finally agreed on after extensive “research.” The two of you bounce slightly from the momentum, causing you both to dissolve into giggles.

“Well, motion transfer still seems acceptable,” you quip. Max chuckles and silences you with another heated kiss.

You hum approvingly as his hands begin to roam your body. “Mmm, responsiveness is excellent too ...”

Clothes are quickly shed as you reacquaint yourselves with each other’s forms. When you’re finally skin-to-skin, Max sighs in satisfaction.

“I’ve been waiting months to get you in this bed.” His voice is low and gravelly in a way that makes you shiver.

“It was the longest mattress testing phase ever,” you breathe as his lips kiss down your neck.

Max laughs against your shoulder. “Worth it though, right?”

In answer, you flip him onto his back, straddling his hips. “Absolutely.”

You take your time exploring each other, hands and mouths worshiping every inch. Until late afternoon sun filters through the curtains, bathing the room in an almost ethereal glow.

When Max finally sinks into you, you moan softly at the exquisite fullness. “Oh yes, this mattress has great ergonomics,” you sigh dreamily.

Max huffs a laugh, his chest vibrating against yours. “I’ll be sure to mention that in my product review.”

You grin and shift your hips experimentally, making him groan. “The responsiveness really is top-notch.”

“We should still test a few more positions though,” Max murmurs. “Just to be thorough.”

You happily comply, indulging in acrobatic mattress testing that leaves you both blissfully satisfied and out of breath. As you lay tangled together afterwards, endorphins still flooding your systems, Max presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“Well, I’d say the new bed passes inspection with flying colors,” he declares with sleepy satisfaction.

You laugh and stroke his hair. “Agreed. You chose an excellent mattress.” You snuggle closer. “Though the company in it is what I really enjoy.”

Max tightens his arms around you. “Think you can put up with me and my high-maintenance decor demands a while longer?” His voice holds a vulnerable note beneath the teasing.

Your heart swells and you cup his face. “Max Verstappen, I’ll critique mattresses and furniture with you any day. As long as at the end of it, I get to fall asleep next to you.”

His smile outshines the lowering sun. “Deal.”

***

“You know what I love most about how our place looks now?” Max murmurs, his arms wrapped around you on the couch.

You tear your eyes from the awful reality show you’re watching to glance up at him. “Hmm?”

His gaze sweeps over the living room, a small smile on his lips. “All the little touches that are just so you.”

You follow his look around the penthouse that over the past year has transformed from Max’s bachelor pad to your shared home. It’s still sleek and modern overall, but with warm accents reflecting both your styles.

And yes, you realize, your personal influence shows in the decor now that you live here full time. The mugs hung on hooks in the kitchen, the plush blankets tossed artfully on the chairs, the bowls of sea glass collected from beach walks that adorn the tables.

Your heart swells looking at the traces of yourself woven into Max’s space. “It does feel more like home now, doesn’t it?”

Max nods, dropping a kiss to your hair. “It’s perfect. I love coming back after a race and being surrounded by reminders of you.”

You snuggle deeper into his embrace, incredibly touched. “Well, I promise to keep leaving my clutter around to make you feel at home.”

He chuckles. “Please do. It’s my favorite kind of clutter.”

Smiling softly, you think back to when you first started dating Max after working on his penthouse makeover. Who could have guessed that would lead to sharing this life together?

Your gaze lands on a shelf displaying photos of the two of you, and your throat grows tight. There’s you and Max laughing on vacation, kissing right after he won his fourth world championship, curled up with hot chocolate on a ski trip. So many beautiful memories.

“It’s hard to remember what this place even looked like before,” you murmur. And not just the decor — it’s hard to recall your life before Max.

He rubs your shoulder idly, eyes faraway. “I know what you mean. It’s like you’ve always been here.” His voice holds a note of wonder.

You lift your head to meet his gaze. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Max’s eyes shine. He bends to kiss you, soft and heartfelt. Your lips curve against his.

When you reluctantly draw back, the television screen catches your eye. You cringe at the fake drama unfolding.

“Ugh, this show is terrible,” you groan. “Can we watch something else?”

Max grins and grabs the remote, flipping through channels. He eventually lands on a home renovation program you both enjoy analyzing and critiquing together. Some things never change.

You settle in eagerly as the show starts, scrutinizing the design choices. Max wraps an arm around you, idly playing with your hair as you watch.

Despite the show’s flaws, being curled up with Max like this fills you with utter contentment. You can’t imagine anything better than coming home to his smile and laugh each day.

During commercials, you fetch snacks from the kitchen, navigating the space with ease. Max trails behind to steal bites, ever drawn to food.

You swat his hand away from the chocolate you’re preparing and laugh. “Get your paws off, those are for sharing!”

Max just tugs you close and kisses the protest from your lips. You happily let him devour the sweetness from your mouth instead, the chocolate forgotten.

Finally you collapse back on the couch together, munching and critiquing the show’s poor tile work. Max throws popcorn for you to catch, his aim as impressive as his racing lines.

Your eyes droop as the evening wears on. The cozy penthouse, tasty snacks, and Max’s warmth — it’s the perfect recipe for relaxation.

When your head nods against Max’s shoulder for the third time, he chuckles and clicks the tv off. “Alright sleepyhead, time for bed.”

You make a half-hearted noise of protest but let him pull you up. Max keeps an arm securely around you as he leads the way to the bedroom, knowing you’re prone to stumbling when tired. It makes you feel so cared for.

He even helps you change into your nightgown, his hands impossibly gentle. As you finally crawl under the blankets, you let out a massive yawn.

“Night Maxie,” you mumble, already mostly asleep. He gathers you close and presses a kiss to your hair.

“Sweet dreams, liefje.” His voice is impossibly soft. You float away cradled in his warmth and the knowledge you’re home.

The next morning, you wake slowly to sunlight streaming in the windows and the smell of coffee. Stretching languorously, you take a moment just to soak it in.

Muffled sounds drift in from the kitchen signaling Max is already up and at ‘em. You smile sleepily. The man has the energy of a hyper puppy.

Before you can muster the will to leave bed, Max appears holding two mugs. “Morning schatje,” he greets with a smile. “Thought you might need some caffeine.”

You beam and make grabby hands until he passes you a mug. The rich aroma instantly perks you up.

Max slides in next to you, sipping his own coffee. His hair is adorably mussed and you gently smooth it down before cupping his face and bringing him in for a long, thorough good morning kiss.

When you finally separate, Max looks pleasingly dazed. “Well, that’s certainly one way to wake up.”

You grin cheekily and go back to your coffee. Max wraps an arm around you and you lean into his solid warmth, trading occasional lazy kisses between sips.

Sun streams over your entwined forms as you bask in contented silence. Eventually you stretch and make your way to the bathroom to start the day, dropping a kiss to Max’s hair as you pass.

You smile seeing your hairbrush by the sink, pink toothbrush next to Max’s blue one. Such small signs of your merged lives, but they mean the world.

Refreshed, you return to Max sprawled on the bed with his phone. He immediately opens his arms in clear demand for more cuddles. Laughing, you collapse into them happily.

Nuzzling into his chest, you sigh. “I know I was practically unconscious last night, but just wanted to say again how special it is having pieces of us both around the place now.”

Max’s arms tighten around you. “You being here makes it a home, not just an apartment.” His voice catches slightly. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

You lift your head to meet his gaze, your own suddenly misty. No words can encapsulate what it means to build a life and home with this incredible man.

So you tell him silently instead, with a kiss overflowing with love and promise: I’ll stay by your side as long as I’m welcome.

Judging by Max’s arm anchoring you fiercely to him, that will be a good long while. You melt into his embrace, spirits soaring.

No fancy penthouse or perfect decor could compare to what you’ve found with Max — a home rooted in love, laughter, and devotion.

One look at his tender smile and you know he feels it too. This is everything.

So you’ll happily leave your mugs around the sink and blankets on the chairs, weaving threads of yourself into his space. With each passing day, it matters less whose belongings lie where.

Because home isn’t things — it’s the man gazing at you like you’re his whole world. And you know as long as you’re together, any place will feel just right.

[16wolke11]

Notice Me - Lando Norris

A/N I just wanted to write something short and fluffy...Maybe one part of this was unsuccesful :D

WORDS: 2578

_____

Working with the Formula 1 team of McLaren wasn't my dream, but somehow, I still ended up working in their team after graduation. Slowly making my way up from simple duties, nothing with much responsibility, until I reached one of the upper levels of the PR team. Starting to work around the drivers, brainstorm for videos and content with the rest of the team and it feels like I am finally settled into the group.

Even though McLaren is paying me generously, I still like to take my bike to the headquarters. Only needing a fifteen-minute ride through some fields is as quick as driving a car. And usually that it is no problem, but right now it is pouring outside. I sigh at the thought of being drenched after seconds and that my clothes are probably going to be muddy after driving over the dirt road. Just when I want to step outside, someone calls my name.

When I turn around, I see Lando approaching. He and Oscar were at the headquarters today to film some stuff, spend time in the simulator and I am sure the bosses even squeezed a meeting into their time schedule. I like Lando, he is always friendly to the team, even though he does express when he isn't really interested in filming videos. But he knows we just do our job and in the end, he and Oscar usually still have fun in the end.

"Let me drive you home, it's on my route home anyways," Lando speaks up, gesturing outside and I look at him confused. My apartment being on his way home isn't exactly true, at least that's what I thought.

"I thought your house is on the other side of the city. Like...the opposite direction." I ask Lando with a hesitating voice, thinking I might have got something wrong in my memory, but he just laughs softly.

"Got me there." He admits, before adding, "Still, I don't want you to cycle through the rain." I bite on the inside of my cheek. This is a nice offer, but I can't take it. There is no way I am going to allow Lando to drive me home, taking a longer route to finally get home as well. He is spending so much time away from home and I don't want to stop him from doing it as soon as possible.

"But I need my bike to get here tomorrow." I quickly say, which is the truth, because currently I don't have a car and even though I could be walking or take the bus, I don't want to get up earlier, just because the bus leaves at such an impractical time. "And I need to shower anyway." I then add with a shrug of my shoulders. There is nothing better than taking a warm shower after being drenched in the rain. Lando looks at me for a moment, testing like he is trying to figure out if I just lied to him, before he shakes his head.

"Get in my car. I am going to pick you up tomorrow." Lando tells me and I can't let him do that.

"Lan..." I try to speak up, but he just cuts me off.

"Not discussing that." I look at him, debating with myself, but decide that I am not in the mood to discuss this with him.

"Fine." I huff and let Lando lead me to his car, which is luckily parked on the covered part of the parking lot. He puts on the heater during the drive, and I sigh to myself, maybe it isn't too bad being driven home instead of cycling through the rain, being miserable.

"Thank you." I mutter to Lando, who just smiles proudly of himself for getting what he wants.

The weeks go by, and the season starts again, but I stay working at the headquarters. Not long enough in the team to be in for a race weekend yet, or more, not on the rotation list yet. McLaren tries to give the team a balance between being away from home and being able to stay with their families and as much as I appreciate it, I still would like to experience a weekend at the track, preferable sooner rather than later. Being occupied by racing again, Lando and Oscar aren't as often at the headquarters as before, but still come by from time to time.

"You are in early." I notice when I step into the room where we film the teammate videos and Lando is already spread out on the couch. Usually, he stumbles into the room last second, looking like he would fall right back asleep if we let him.

"I can be on time." Lando huffs, sitting up, before he stretches his arms and adds, "If I want to."

I laugh at his words and start to prepare the room for filming. Open the windows for some fresh air, get the scripts for the video. All that was followed by Lando's eyes. At one point, I frown and look at him, no longer accepting being stared at.

"Everything okay?" I ask him and Lando flinches like he is deep down in his mind. Then he reaches for his backpack, pulling out a bag from a bakery. I lean my head to the side when Lando holds out the bag to me and I hesitantly grab it.

"I got you these." Lando mutters, eyes now looking everywhere but at me and I open the bag to look inside. There it is, my favourite pastry in all its glory. The cinnamon smell immediately flooded around me and I looked at Lando in awe.

"You got me franzbrötchen?" I ask him, eyes wandering back to the pastry which I love so dearly, but just don't manage to get in England. Craving them from time to time, but not talented enough to bake them myself.

"You said you liked these, so I brought them for you." Lando shrugs his shoulders like it is no big deal, but I know how difficult it is to get these. And yes, I tried so many bakeries that I lost count of them.

"Where did you get those? I am searching for a bakery selling them forever." My voice is excited like a child on its birthday, and I really hope it is not one of those high-end bakeries that are way too expensive. Well, I might even pay the price if that means I get to eat my favourite pastries again from time to time.

"That's my secret." Lando grins mischievously and adds, "But if you are nice to me, I will bring them more often."

There is a soft smile on my lips, and I can't do anything to be happy about this gift. "Thank you, Lan."

Finally, my first race weekend has come and even though it might be stressful, I still can't get the smile off my lips anymore. Right now, I am on my way to get Oscar and Lando for a bit of filming, but stop in my tracks when I hear them talking. Knowing it is not nice to overhear them, but can't stop myself from doing so.

"I don't know what to do anymore, Oscar. It is like she doesn't even notice me." Lando groans and I tilt my head to the side. I have never heard him be so desperate and I wonder who the girl he is talking about is. Ignoring the soft ache inside of me, I keep listening to them talking.

"Maybe you just need to tell her and not only show her." Oscar suggests and I think that's good advice. Sometimes words are better than actions, even though sweet actions are still a great way of showing feelings. It sometimes just needs a little bit more. "And embarrass myself because she doesn't like me, no thanks." Lando huffs and my heart clenches at his tone. Looks like he is really in love with someone.

"Did you ever think about the possibility that she might also be like you, but isn't sure if you are just nice to her." My heart beats quicker, part of being scared of getting seen listening to the boys and part because it gets me thinking. Lando does do some nice things for me, but that could mean nothing. Or?

"I am not letting a baker specifically make someone's favourite snack or drive them home in the rain, so they don't get sick." Lando's voice is so low now that I need a minute to realise what he said. Getting the favourite snack, especially made for someone...that sounds like the time he got me my favourite pastries and the thing with the rain? Slowly, more pieces click into place, and I step around the corner, deciding I've listened to enough of their conversation.

Oscar spots me first, eyes widening just slightly, but Lando has his face buried in his hands and doesn't notice. I take a deep breath, trying to act like nothing happened, but every time I look at Lando, my heart stumbles again.

"Boys, are you ready for the filming?" I speak up, startling Lando to look upwards. His eyes glimmer with frustration, but I feel like I have to act like I don't notice anything is wrong. Like, I just stepped around the corner and didn't hear him confessing his crush on me.

"Sure." Oscar is the one to answer and then we just go on with our day.

It only takes for Sunday to come until Lando snaps. I wanted to give him time, give myself time to think about everything and doubt all of it. Did he really mean me? Of course he did. Do I want to make the first step? Hard pass. Would it be better to give him signs that I like him as well? Totally. Still, I don't dare to say something, not before the race anyway.

Right now, I am chatting with one of Lando's mechanics. I am amazed by what they are doing every weekend. How they manage to tweak the car exactly like the boys like it and it kind of makes my work feel small. Like it isn't important. He tries to explain me stuff, but when I look at him, more than confused, we both just burst into laughter.

Just then, fingers curl around my wrist and with a harsh pull, I am forced to walk. "Lando, what?" I ask him, almost stumbling behind him while he pulls me away under the confused looks of the mechanics. Lando doesn't look at me, just keeps pulling me behind him until he reaches an empty door, slamming the door close behind us.

"What is wrong with you?" I ask him, trying to lower my voice, but the anger and confusion are bubbling inside of me. Rubbing my fingers over my wrist, trying to ease the soft ache, while Lando just paces up and down.

"What is wrong with me?" He asks like I am imagining things, before huffing, "What is wrong with you!?" I blink at him once, twice, not even knowing what I did wrong from his point of view.

"I just chatted with one of your mechanics, you were the one pulling me away like a madman." I explain my side of the situation and finally, Lando stops the pacing, but he doesn't look at me, eyes planted firmly on the ground.

"You were laughing with him." He mutters and I need a second to understand what he just said, before arching an eyebrow.

"And I am no longer allowed to have fun?" I ask him, leading to him ruffling his curls.

"Fuck, you are...I am just." He tries to explain, stumbling over his own words, before he starts pacing up and down again.

"Lan, what is wrong." I ask him, trying to keep my voice soft. When he doesn't react, I am the one grabbing him by the wrist and finally, he stops in his tracks, before whispering.

"I just want you to see me."

"I don't understand." I manage to choke out, not able to connect the dots, but then Lanno starts to ramble.

"And I just try to figure you out." He just starts and before he even really starts, the fog in my head is clearing up.

"You always have different songs stuck in your head and hum them without even noticing." Lando tells me and I blush a little, hating that I forget the people around me when I have a specific song stuck in my head and just hum a mixture of melody and lyrics.

"You make everyone around you feel wanted." He continues and I know Lando likes to observe his surroundings, but didn't know he thinks that about me.

"You scrunch your nose a little when you think about something." There is a soft smile on his lips, and I can't stop myself from offering him one back.

"And your favourite colour is blue! Not a bright one, but one like the ocean on a stormy day." Lando lets his voice trail off and my heart flutters. This isn't something everyone knows about me, but Lando listens, no matter how dumb or unnecessary the fact might be.

"Lan..." I whisper, trying to tell him about my feelings, but the words get stuck in my throat.

"Fuck, I fell in love with you months ago and tried to show you because I am not good with words, but if I have to stay away from you for any longer, I am going to explode." Before Lando starts his pacing again, I grab his second wrist, holding him in front of me.

"Can I kiss you?" I blurt out with a shaking voice, not knowing how to form the right words to confess my feelings for him. So why not show?

"What?" Lando asks back, eyes wide, flicking between my lips and eyes.

"Can I kiss you?" I ask him, slowly, while looking at his face.

Lando doesn't even answer, doesn't nod his head, instead just leans down and lets his lips crash down on mine. Like he is afraid the moment is going to vanish if he hesitates.

It might not be perfect, a little too desperate, a little too messy, but kind of perfect for us. His hand holding up my chin, my fingers getting tangled in his hair, while my other hand rests right over Lando's heart. I try to stand on my tiptoes to get more out of his touch and he sighs softly against my lips. When we finally break apart, it is just for gasping for air. Mind not ready to be parted, but our lungs are craving for air.

"You have no idea how long I wanted to do that." Lando sighs, forehead resting against mine and his arms wrap around my waist to keep me close to his chest.

"I can imagine when I think of the time when all of your attention started." I smile at him and a laugh rumbles in his chest. Thinking back, I can figure out when his liking for me started and I don't know how I didn't notice earlier.

"I am sorry for not noticing earlier." I apologise to Lando, who just tightens his grip around me, whispering an "No need for apologising" and then presses his lips on mine to kiss me over and over again.

[vroomvro0mferrari]

CL16 | Strategy to Your Heart

Summary: Ferrari hasn’t been doing well in the races lately, and according to Charles, there's only one person to blame for the bad strategies: you.

Charles Leclerc x colleague!Reader (enemies to lovers)

WC: 4.3K

Warnings: curse words, slightly misogynistic

Masterlist

Charles stormed into the garage, his eyes blazing with anger. His race had ended disastrously, again, and there was only one person to blame. As his race engineer, you were responsible for his strategy, which lately, had been lacking significantly and he despised you for it. The car was finally improving, yet he couldn’t seem to win a race. Simply because his race engineer managed to fuck up every time.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls. “Are you trying to sabotage me?”

You looked up in surprise as he approached you. Charles' anger was clear as day as he got in your face, making your hands shake from anxiety and your blood run cold. Your expression hardened as the accusation settled, a glare replacing the shock in your eyes. You opened your mouth to explain, to say something – to calm him down, but he cut you off. 

“I don’t need your excuses! You clearly don’t know what you’re doing!” He yelled. The look on his face, and the posture of his body – which was much taller than yours – were intimidating. Never mind his unrelenting glare and the finger he pointed in your face before storming off to his driver's room.

His insult stung deeply. You understood that he was upset at how the race went, but he could’ve reacted differently. He just humiliated you publicly, in front of all your colleagues; he didn’t even let you get a word in edgewise. You could feel the anger bubbling up inside you at his behaviour. How dare he insult you like that? It wasn’t even your fault. You stared after him as he stomped away, before turning on your feet, storming off in the opposite direction.

You had known Charles for a long time now. Although you had never spoken much, you always greeted each other, until you got your new position in the team. Charles was already driving for Ferrari when you first started there as an intern. You joined in on meetings with the drivers and sometimes spoke to them during these, but you didn’t see the drivers much otherwise. After your time as an intern, you had gotten a full-time job and worked your way up the team, and now, finally, you had made it to race strategist for Charles Leclerc, where your decisions actually had an effect – or so you thought.

During all your years at Ferrari, the previous head of strategy, Rueda, always listened to and appreciated your opinions and suggestions for the race strategies. He supported your development over the years and saw you grow from an inexperienced intern to an expert with a unique view. Before he left Ferrari, he promoted you to Charles’ race engineer; he believed in your skill and thought you could provide unexpected, but well-working strategies that would lead Charles to victories. 

However, after Rueda left, and Ravin Jain took over the job of head strategist, your opinions were ignored. You worked especially hard to convince him you deserved your current position. You developed numerous possible strategies for every one of Charles’ races, running tons of simulations to make sure you had a strategy for every situation. You thought about all the unexpected circumstances that might arise and how to maximise the outcome for each of them. You knew exactly what to do in every situation to ensure a good ending position for Charles, but Jain undermined you every single time. You would present him with all the information you had collected, and show him all the possible strategies and which ones you expected would work best, but he would never listen to you. Jain would always overrule your decisions with different options that somehow turned out much worse. As a result, Charles lost so many more places than necessary, and missed so many more podiums – wins even – than he should’ve.

The worst part was that Charles blamed you for everything. You were new in the position of race strategist, and you wanted to leave a good impression on the team and, most importantly, have a good working relationship with Charles. In your line of work, teamwork and cooperation, and consequently trust, are incredibly important. You wanted Charles to You wanted Charles to rely on you for strategy, allowing him to focus solely on driving. But he couldn’t. He questioned every advice you gave – whether it made sense – and more often than not, it didn’t. The relationship between the two of you was anything but one of trust.

Charles didn’t know what was happening between you and the head strategist. All he knew was that the strategies were awful and he was losing races that he could have won. He didn’t know how amazing and thought-out your own strategies really were, and how good you were at your job if you actually received the opportunity to do it. As a matter of fact, he had never had a real conversation with you before you got your new role. Previously, you just hung around in the background, only speaking with your team and some work friends you had made along the way, but never directly with the drivers. Quite frankly, he questioned whether you were even qualified for your job.

Although Charles didn’t know much about you, his opinion about you was formed and unchanging. To him, it seemed you didn’t know much about racing strategies or engineering; the results of your strategies and your silence during the debriefs were enough proof for him. There was only one logical explanation for how you’d gotten your role in the team; you had gotten your position through favouritism – or perhaps you’d done the head strategist a little ‘favour’.

– – – – –

During the next race, Jain had done it again. You had developed the perfect strategy for Charles, you had worked everything out so you were prepared for every situation. But when you showed the results to Jain and suggested your preferred strategy, he told you that your strategies could be better and you should ‘try this’. You knew it wasn’t a suggestion but an order to drop your strategy and use his instead. The result left you feeling defeated. Charles would undoubtedly be upset with the outcome, outing his anger on you, while you couldn’t do anything to make it better.

From your spot in the garage after the race, you could already see him stomping towards you. You couldn’t blame him really, he had missed out on yet another podium due to a bad strategy.

“What now?” you muttered under your breath as you saw him approach, bracing yourself for another confrontation.

“What now?” Charles echoed, his tone mocking. “You’re asking me that? You couldn’t form a proper strategy to save your life! How did you get this job in the first place? Sleep with the boss?”

You whipped your head around at his comment, narrowing your eyes as shock and anger coursed through your body. You had heard comments like this many times before; Formula 1 is a man’s world and you know what the men around you are like. You know you shouldn’t have expected anything less from Charles, yet you had. You were surprised that Charles would say something like this—something so vile. Yes, you had never really gotten along, but there had always been mutual respect. In all your interactions with Charles, he seemed kind enough, even if he was frustrated with you; to make such a misogynistic comment was a new low for him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? How can you even say something like that? Do you know how offensive that is?”

“You’re not denying it,” he yelled back at you.

You scoffed. “I’m not doing this,” you said, shaking your head before walking away, the tears welling up in your eyes. It felt like a betrayal. 

Charles followed you, “How about you explain why you keep screwing up my races?”

You ran your hands over your face in frustration as you rushed away from him, quickly making your way to your office. Charles had already upset you, and you didn’t want to cry in front of him – your job was already hard enough without him holding something like this over your head. If your colleagues found out you had cried on the job, you would never hear the end of how women can’t handle the pressure of F1. You tried to close the door as soon as you entered your office, but Charles was already there with you, staring you down. His arms were crossed in a nonchalant manner, but his face showed his annoyance clearly. “Well?”

You tried to avoid answering his question, but it seemed impossible. Even though you had kept silent (except for your scoff, that is), he wouldn’t leave you alone. God was this man frustrating. Your patience snapped.

“I’m not the one screwing up your races, Charles. If you have any issues with the strategies you should take it up with Jain, because he changes my plans every time.”

“What are you talking about?” He asked, frowning.

“Every strategy I create, Jain overrules,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady as you closed in on him. “I come up with plans based on simulations, and data. I’m ready for every scenario. But he dismisses them and forces his own strategies, which obviously don’t work. You’re blaming the wrong person.”

Charles stared at you, the anger in his eyes slowly giving way to confusion. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“I tried,” you replied, frustration seeping into your voice. “But you were too busy yelling at me to listen. And honestly, I didn’t think you’d believe me.”

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly processing what you had said. “So, Jain is the one messing up the strategies?”

“Yes,” you confirmed. “And it’s been incredibly frustrating to watch my hard work get thrown out and to then take the blame when it fails.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be. You’ve been yelling at me for months when it wasn’t even my fault.”

“Why didn’t you do anything about it?” Charles asked.

You laughed at his question. “What was I supposed to do? You know how it is—actually, you don’t, because drivers are privileged,” you sighed at the frown on Charles’ face, “no one would have believed me if I had told them, or they probably would have agreed. And if I had gone against Jain, I would have been fired so fast,” you trailed off.

Charles sighed. You were right; how on earth were they supposed to fix this? Jain would just continue to override your decisions no matter what, and that obviously wasn’t beneficial to anyone.

“For the next race, show me your strategy, okay? We can look at it together and if I agree we can work something out. Together.”

You smiled dryly at Charles’ suggestion. If he agrees? Who does he think he is? Nevertheless, you concur, if only to get rid of him. It doesn’t sound very convincing, but Charles is satisfied nonetheless.

– – – – –

For the next race, you had prepared more than usual. After the first few encounters with Jain you had given up on preparing your races thoroughly; it felt like a waste of time. But knowing that Charles would listen to you, and you might finally get to use your own strategy motivated you. 

You carefully discussed your plans with Charles in his driver’s room, away from everyone else. He listened attentively while you explained all the possible strategies and the one you thought would yield the best results. This was the first time Charles actually heard you talk about the strategies with enthusiasm, and he admired your knowledge of the topic, although he was somewhat surprised after your previous interactions. Hearing your passion for your work and knowing that you weren’t the reason for the unsuccessful races finally allowed the much-wanted bond of trust to form.

“We're going to use your strategy,” Charles said decisively. “No matter what Jain says, we'll do whatever you think is best. You've thought everything out, it'd be foolish to do something entirely different.”

"And if Jain gets mad and wants to fire me?" You asked, a hint of concern in your voice.

"The results will likely be good, so there'll be no reason for him to get mad,” Charles replied confidently. “But if he does, I'll vouch for you."

You nodded in response, a nervous but grateful smile on your face. It was exciting to finally use one of your own strategies, even though Jain would probably reject your proposals again.

Your assumption was correct; during your meeting with Jain, he had once more told you to follow his strategies instead of using your own ideas. Although Charles had told you there wouldn’t be any reason for your boss to get mad if the race went well, you weren’t assured enough to follow his advice. You couldn’t take any risks with your job – you weren’t experienced enough to get a similar job anywhere else, especially with the reputation Jain had built for you. If you had to follow his strategy to keep your job you would.

To say Charles was upset with the strategy during the race would be an understatement. He didn’t know where it had gone wrong – you had discussed this, hadn’t you? You came to the agreement that you would use your own strategy instead of listening to Jain, yet you hadn’t. The things you were telling him to do were nothing you had discussed during your private meeting. Charles felt frustrated at your inability to follow through; you were ruining his chances of a win because you were a coward who wouldn’t dare to stand up to her boss and he wasn’t going to take it.

“Boxing next lap, Charles.” 

Charles scoffed at your order before responding, “Box now? That’s ridiculous! The tyres are feeling fine, I can stay out longer.”

You sigh from your position on the pit wall. “Charles, the team thinks it’s best that you–” 

“I don’t care what the team thinks! What do you think is the best move?”

“Charles–” you stammer, getting nervous from his reaction.

“You know the team always makes the wrong calls, Y/N. What do you think we should do?”

You sighed, feeling the weight of the decision. If you go against Jain’s orders now and the race ends badly, you’ll be in big trouble. Charles said he’d vouch for you though, and the current strategy wasn’t going to get the team anywhere good either. You contemplate your options.

“Stay out a few more laps.”

Although you couldn’t see it, Charles smiled triumphantly in the car, knowing he had convinced you to use your own strategy. This was a good start, he just needed to do well now, to make sure you got your confidence back. So, for the next races, you would follow your own strategies as well instead of simply following Jain’s orders.

The race had ended up much better than anybody had expected, all thanks to your strategy. If you hadn’t switched up the strategy, Charles would have ended up significantly lower in the ranking. After finishing up his duties, Charles sought you out in the garage. You thought he would yell at you again, for going against your plan – going rogue, but he didn’t.  

“Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere. “Your strategy worked. Next time, we’ll use your plan again. From the start this time, forget whatever Jain tells you.” 

You nodded in response, a tight smile on your face. It was nice that Charles showed his appreciation for you. However, now that you were standing still instead of moving around, you were easier to spot. So far, you had managed to avoid Jain by blending in with the bustling garage, but Charles’s presence made you easy to find.

“Y/N!” Jain said loudly, making your eyes shoot over to him quickly.

“We need to have a serious talk! Follow me to my office.” The look on his face was scolding and his body posture showed his anger clearly as he walked off. 

You met Charles’ eyes for a second, a nervous smile on your face. “I better go,” you said before rushing after your boss. 

“I’ll come with you,” Charles responded firmly, joining your side.

“I said I’d vouch for you if Jain became angry. I always keep my word,” he said after seeing the confused look on your face.

Jain had already taken a seat in his office when you walked in.

“What the hell were you thinking? Ignoring my strategy?” he hollered.

You took a deep breath, mustering the courage to go against him, but Charles beat you to it, stepping out from behind the door.

“There’s no need to yell at your employee like that, Jain. Besides, her strategy led to much better results than boxing would have.”

Jain’s eyes quickly darted over to him in surprise, having missed his presence, before focusing on you. “You’re here to follow orders, Y/N. Not to make your own decisions. You disobeyed a direct instruction.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Charles had already started speaking, his voice steady but firm. 

“With all due respect, Jain, it’s clear that Y/N’s strategy was superior today. Her approach brought us better results, and we need to recognise that.”

Jain turned his glare to Charles, clearly not pleased with the driver’s intervention. “This is none of your business, Charles. She’s my employee, and she needs to follow my orders.”

“Actually, it is my business,” Charles shot back.

Your eyes darted over to him. This was not at all the right time, but he looked hot as fuck defending you like this. He hadn’t even had the time to change after the race, his driver’s suit hanging around his waist with his black fireproofs on full display. His hair was messy and his cheeks were flushed, whether it was from the race or frustration, you weren’t sure. You could feel your own cheeks turning hot at the sight, and you were certain a blush was spreading across your face, too.

“Her strategies directly affect my performance on the track. Today, she proved her worth. She deserves the chance to implement her plans without being overruled.”

The room fell silent as Jain stared at Charles, his anger simmering beneath the surface. 

No, not the right time at all.

Jain finally sighed, rubbing his temples. “Fine. You’ve made your point. But if it fails there will be consequences.”

You nodded eagerly, “of course.”

Charles nodded as well, happy with the outcome.

– – – – –

The next few races turned out much better. Without interference, you could confidently present and implement your strategies. And the results spoke for themselves: Charles consistently finished on the podium. His performance improved so much that even Jain had to admit your strategies worked better than his.

When the next race weekend arrived tensions were high. So far, your racing strategies had proved successful, but you aimed for more every race. It was certainly helpful that you and Charles were a good team. Ever since the issues between Charles and you were resolved, there was mutual trust, and Charles supported every strategy you came up with, even if it seemed risky.

You wished Charles good luck with a nervous smile before he got in his car and, as had become a ritual, he responded confidently with a “we’ve got this” and a reassuring smile that somehow always calmed your nerves.

When the race began you confidently pursued your strategy while Charles navigated the track with precision. Everything went perfectly: the pit stops as swift and smooth as could be and every decision moving Charles closer to the front.

There were only a few laps to go with Charles steadily in second place, closing in on the leader. He managed to get within DRS range and, as the team watched in anticipation, executed a flawless overtake, taking the lead in the race. The garage filled with cheers and applause as the team celebrated his amazing overtake. Meanwhile, a big smile overtook your features as you watched Charles drive on the screen in front of you. 

You stared in disbelief when Charles crossed the finish line in first place. The joy was immense; the whole garage was celebrating the fresh win as you hugged the rest of the team on the pit wall in delight. You had done it – your strategy had led him to a win.

Following your colleagues, you rushed to the parc fermé, wanting to be the first to celebrate this amazing race with him. You watched as Charles got out of his car, pumping his fist in the air in victory. The smile on his face was huge as he jogged to the team waiting to congratulate him. 

“We did it, Y/N!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a celebratory hug. You laughed at his antics but hugged him back nevertheless. If there wasn’t a barrier between you, he would have lifted you up and spun you around, that’s how happy he was. Two months ago he couldn’t have envisioned a win any time soon, and now he had managed to snatch up the first place, all thanks to you.

After his weigh-in, he walked back to you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I want you to come up on the podium with me,” he said. 

“Ah,” he tutted, already knowing you would protest before you even opened your mouth, “it’s just as much your win as it’s mine.”

“Charles…”

“You deserve to be up there too! It’s your first win!”

You stared at him hesitantly.

“Come on, Y/N. Just this once. If you say no, I’ll just ask again next time, and the time after that, and—”

“Next time?”

“Yes. We’re obviously going to win many more races together!” Charles said with a childish grin. “Come on!” He continued, tugging on your sleeve.

You finally succumbed, nodding your head. “Okay, fine.”

“Ah perfect! I’ll see you up there!” He said with a big grin, before walking off to do his interview.

You used the time Charles was in the cooldown room to mentally prepare yourself. You were about to stand on the podium. Your face was going to be broadcast on live TV for everyone to see, and it made you nervous. You smiled nervously at the people guiding you up the stairs to the podium where you met Charles. He smiled comfortingly and chatted with you relaxedly while you waited for his name to be called out. 

When the time came, you tried to stay in the background, hiding behind Charles who walked out in front of you before taking your place on the separate podium for the winning constructor. From your position, you could see the crowd cheering for Charles while the Monegasque anthem sounded over the track. You admired the sea of red that was here for Ferrari, for Charles. When the Italian anthem played you made eye contact with Charles, laughing silently with him over your colleagues singing along loudly.

You gracefully accepted the trophy for the team, smiling and lifting it up after it was offered to you. The sound of your team cheering and applauding filled you with joy. You couldn’t be prouder of Charles for this achievement, and maybe of yourself too, especially when you saw the admiring look Charles was sending you. It made your thoughts hazy, tuning out for a second as you enjoyed this moment of glory while staring out at the crowd in front of you.

Then, suddenly, you heard the pops of bottles. You could barely set down your trophy before your face was covered in champagne.

“Charles,” You gasped. 

Barely able to breathe, you tried to cover your face with your cap. It was no use, however; the champagne was already pricking in your eyes as you blindly tried to push Charles away. When the other men on the podium targeted him, you used the moment to pop your own bottle of champagne. Of course, your goal was to completely douse Charles as payback, but he was quick to flee. Before you got the chance to properly drench him, it was already time for the podium picture. Charles grinned at you mischievously from his spot next to you. “You look good in victory champagne,” he teased. 

You glared at him jokingly. You were certain that you looked ridiculous with your cap askew and your clothes completely soaked in champagne, not to mention the mascara that was probably running down your face. You rolled your eyes at his comment, but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.

“Thanks, I think.”

He laughed with you, a gleeful look on his face. 

“How about we go out for a celebratory drink?” He asked with a gentle smile.

You noticed the more serious tone in his voice straight away. His expression was one you didn’t recognise; he seemed almost insecure.

Raising an eyebrow, you couldn’t resist teasing him. 

“Are you asking me out, Charles?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Well, yeah. I guess I am. What do you say?”

You laughed again, before nodding your head. 

“A drink sounds good.”

[autumnywinter]

could you do some yandere elliott nsfw? i need this man like i need air to breathe i swear-

Just had a surgery this morning, I hope this is coherent because I still feel a lil groggy haha. I tried to make the reader as sexually neutral as I could since I don't do that very often. I hope I did decently ^^;

Yandere!Elliott x Reader

Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Stalking, masturbation, sex toy usage, general creepy behavior, gender neutral reader, no sex specified for reader

For hours at a time, Elliott would follow and stalk you (although he would put it into more light terms) as you went about your business. He wanted to be near you at all times, but the crowding might have scared you away so he made do with spying.

Sometimes Elliott would pretend to accidentally bump into you in town, acting as though it was coincidence that you were on the same street and walking in the same direction.

When you were gone, he sometimes snuck into your home. At first, he would only go to touch your things, the things that had touched you and smelled of you. He would hold up your shirt to his face and breathe in the smell, trying to simulate your embrace.

It wasn't as good as the real thing by any means, but it satiated him for the time being.

He grabbed a discarded pair of underwear on the ground, and didn't even think about his next actions. He brought it up to his face and shakily inhaled. A choked moan escaped his mouth.

Just as he was ready to pocket it and leave, he heard the front door open. He didn't have enough time to crawl out of the window, so he frantically locked himself in your closet. It wasn't the first time he had been in there without your knowledge, but it still filled him with panic each time.

His heart raced as you walked in, humming softly. He peered through louvered slats and saw you taking off your clothes. Elliott covered his mouth with his hand to keep from moaning aloud. His cock throbbed, and he felt ashamed.

You weren't a mere object for his satisfaction, but he couldn't help himself.

You stripped down completely, and he nearly came in his pants when you removed your undergarments and dropped it on the floor. This was so much better than watching you undress through the window.

Sure, he always had binoculars or a camera on you, but the visual was never enough. Now you were just a few feet from him, body ready to be ravished and worshipped.

It took every fiber of his being not to come out of the closet and do it himself. The anticipation was too much. He began to undo his fly as quietly as possible.

He watched as you slowly and sensuously rubbed yourself. He imagined it was him you were thinking of.

Next thing he knew, he was using his free hand to bring the underwear up to his face. It smelled just like he imagined it would, your scent driving him wild.

Like fate, you flopped on the bed and grabbed what he recognized as a dildo. As upset as he was you were using other toys when you could be using his very-real cock, his disdain melted into pleasure again once you started fingering yourself, preparing yourself for it.

He imagined he was the one preparing you for his own cock. He imagined his fingers deep inside you, gently caressing your warm, wet inner walls. He would coax you open, until he would be able to replace his fingers with his leaking cock.

Not without pampering you beforehand, of course.

He ached for you, and had to finally free his erection from the confines of his pants. He shuddered from the cold air against his burning flesh.

He spit into his palm and stroked himself to the rhythm of your fingers. Normally he never used his own spit, but he was too frenzied to care.

The underwear pressed against his nose as he inhaled deeply. It was intoxicating, and he felt more drunk than if he had chugged an entire keg of beer. The scent was pure you, and he would never have it any other way.

You started teasing yourself with the toy, just about the size of his own cock. He wished it was him, filling you up and making you cry out in ecstasy.

A beautiful moan escaped your lips once you slid it inside, slowly. 'That's it, theeere you go, sweetheart,' he cooed to you in his head. He started stroking his cock slower, only to imagine it was him pushing inside you at such a gentle pace. He could be so sweet to you if you just gave him a chance.

You rocked yourself back and forth on the dildo, making a motion so mesmerizing to watch. He couldn't take his eyes off you, even if the view was obscured.

Elliott didn't notice he was drooling pathetically, but he didn't care.

He sped up his pace to yours again. He felt so dirty watching you like this, but he felt too good to stop.

Suddenly, you switched positions and the view got a little better. Now Elliott had the full picture of your entrance accepting the toy so readily.

He envisioned himself hovering over you, and kissing your soft skin while moving in and out of you. Oh, what he'd give to have your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his waist.

The scenario was set clear in his mind. After a romantic candlelit dinner, he'd make love to you on the bed. The lighting would be dim and sensual, with his scented candles burning pleasantly. He would treat you to a full-body massage first, getting you all loosened up before he made sweet love to you. He would whisper how much he loved you in your ear and cover your face in kisses. He'd make sure you climaxed first, before taking his own.

That is, if he could even control himself. He had came in his pants an embarrassing amount of times just looking at you. He was barely hanging on at this point, but he tried to wait for you to finish first.

Your shift in moans showed you were getting close, so he brought the undergarments down from his face and to his cock. He wrapped them around himself and ardently stroked his cock.

His breath hitched at how intimate it felt, using the garment as a tool for masturbation.

He was teetering on the edge when you suddenly cried out in your orgasm. The noise was a symphony to his ears, and he came soon after.

For a moment, he saw stars. He had masturbated to you countless of times before, but that was the best orgasm he ever had.

His vision returned, and he felt disgusted with himself. He had came in your underwear. He couldn't return it to you now; he was supposed to leave no trace behind. He supposed it'd make another good keepsake.

Elliott's attention turned back to you. You were covered in sweat and catching your breath.

He wished he could cuddle you afterward, stroking your hair and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He'd give you a nice bath, and then order something nice from the restaurant for take-out, since you'd both be exhausted. He knew how much you loved your take-out, anyway.

Elliott rearranged himself into his pants. You stood up from the bed and went to the bathroom, and he quickly gathered your discarded clothes from the floor, along with your used toy.

He wanted to use that opportunity to leave, but he was still too busy composing himself.

You entered your room again with your regular night clothing and passed out on your bed. Elliott peeked through the slats of the closet again to watch you sleep for a couple minutes. It was such a gorgeous sight.

Finally he opened the door, gauging your form for any signs of reaction. He silently sighed in relief when you didn't move. He did his best to not step on anything that would creak under his weight and had to stifle a chuckle. You kicked your covers off of you in your sleep.

He risked pulling them back over you and taking that moment to stare once more at your relaxed expression.

One day you'd be his. He considered himself a patient man.

[the-offside-rule]

Charles Leclerc (Scuderia Ferrari) - Helmet Hair

Requested: yes

Prompt: 51) "Can I wear your helmet?"

Warnings: none

Charles sat in his simulator at his apartment, focused on the virtual track. The familiar hum of the equipment filled the room as he navigated the digital twists and turns. Y/n had been studying yet she couldn't help but sneak glances over over her boyfriend maneuvering his way around the virtual track. She thought of a challenge so she stood up and walked over to Charles, a mischievous glint in her eye. He looked up confused. "Are you alright?" He asked. "Mind if I join?" He smiled. "Of course, amore." He stood up and helped her into the seat. He began describing the different parts of the car to her, making sure to keep it simplified as to not confuse her. "It seems difficult, eh?" Y/n shrugged. "Seems simple enough. I hink I've got it." Charles smiled. "If you say so. Let's start with a simple track." He chose Austria and off she went, racing her heart out.

"See how difficult it is to drive the car?" Charles teased. "It's actually easy." He arched a brow. "Excuse me-" He was cut off by Y/n pointing to the times. "See? New personal best. This is the fastest the Leclerc car has ever gone." He watched in awe as she did indeed break his record.

"It's not as simple as it seems in real life, though." She scoffed. "Oh, please. I'm a natural at this." He huffed. "I bet I can make it more challenging." Y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "How so?" Charles nodded towards the shelves of helmet he had. Her eyes lit up more than before. "Can I actually wear your helmet?" Charles smiled. "Of course. Pick one and you canwear it while racing. Let's see how good you really are." Y/n pointed towards the generic helmet he always used. Charles stood up and grabbed it, placing it carefully over her head. "Alright, let's add some flair to this race." Her face felt squished within the helmet and her boyfriend could see her cheeks squished up against the soft interior. Charles couldn't contain his laughter at the sight. "Shut up! Let's race!"

"Ready for the challenge, Senna?" He joked, choosing Monaco as the next track. "Absolutely!" With the helmet snugly in place, Y/n dove back into the virtual world, determined to prove herself. Charles watched with admiration as she navigated the turns of Monaco, both of them sharing laughs and cheers throughout the playful competition. "You just hit the barrier-"

"I know. Its the hairpin. Allow it." Charles hid his laugh as she continued on, overtaking one by one and borderline illegally. "Did you just hit Max?" Charles asked. "Im just being competitive." She replied. "And oh look, Carlos is in the harbour because of you now." She rolled her eyes. "He shouldn't have been there." She retorted. "Where? The track?" She giggled at his jokes. "I'm first. I don't know what you're on about." Charles watched as she went onto the final lap, hitting nearly every corner in doing so. "Oh? Look at that. Leclerc, P1." Charles clapped for her. "I won your home race before you did." He shot her a glare. "Behave." She pecked his cheek. "I'm kidding. You know that."

"Are you though?" Y/n chuckled, lifting the helmet off her head. Charles burst out laughing upon seeing her messy hair standing in all directions. "You make helmet hair look way better." Y/n said, fixing her hair in the reflection of the screen in front of her. "Not as good as you." He teased. "Oh shut up." She said, slapping his arm playfully. "Are you going back to study?" Charles asked. "I am. Have fun." Y/n smiled, kissing her boyfriend. "And thanks for the helmet."

"Don't mention it. I'll be out soon anyway." Charles replied. "Love you." She said, leaving gthe room. "Je t'aime." He called after her, getting back to racing and trying to break his girlfriend's records.

[grogumaximus]

In December 2023, Alex Albon, one of a series of Red Bull drivers who have found the second seat to Max Verstappen too difficult to handle, attempted to describe the feeling of manoeuvring a car in the design that the four-times world champion prefers.

“If you bump up the sensitivity [on a computer game] completely to the max and you move that mouse and it’s just darting across the screen everywhere, that’s kind of how it feels. It becomes so sharp that it makes you a little bit tense,” Albon said.

Lawson is performing much worse in a car which, at its peak, is faster. There lies the crux of the issue. In the wind tunnel and the simulator this Red Bull car is quick, of that there is no doubt. But it is incredibly difficult to drive.

Verstappen is a generational talent, the best on the grid. The way he likes to set up his car, and therefore the direction which Red Bull have developed to favour, is one with a very strong front end, less stable on the entry to corners, and with a more unpredictable back end. The world champion would perhaps beat everyone on the grid in the same car, by a couple of tenths of a second.

It is not necessarily that the car has been engineered specifically for Verstappen, but simply that in the development direction, he is able to handle where the pure performance is better. It is understood that Pérez also provided very little feedback, which has contributed to the issue — engineers took Verstappen’s suggestions. He has been more committed than ever in attempting to help understand the issue.

Lawson has a good feel for the car, and is able to provide accurate feedback, it just does not suit him and gives him little confidence. Even Verstappen has found the previous two Red Bull cars difficult to control and “peaky” with very little consistency.

“At the beginning of 2022 we had quite a stable car, but with quite a bit of understeer that was in it, which obviously Max hates. We had an upgrade in Spain where we put a lot more front into the car, and Max made a big step forward. Checo [Pérez] sort of nosedived from that point,” Horner said.

“You’ve got to produce the quickest car, and you’re driven by the information that you have and the data that you have, and that’s as a team. We don’t set out to make a car driver-centric, you just work on the info that you have and the feedback that you have to produce the fastest car that you can. That’s obviously served us very well with 122 victories.”

Verstappen believes Lawson would drive faster in the Racing Bulls team, which has a slower peak performance but is easier to handle. On the basis of last season, it feels hard to disagree.

“Finding the limit in a car that has inherent understeer [the Racing Bull] is always going to be easier than finding the limit in a car that is a little more edgy,” Horner added.

Set-up changes can help (as Red Bull attempted to make under parc fermé conditions on Sunday, with Lawson starting from the pitlane) but attempting to remove the most difficult characteristics of the car also makes it inherently slower. (...)

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Unspoken Melody p.23

Hi guys, here's a new part of the story, if you've missed part 22 here it is :) If you want to read more of my stories, here's my masterlist.

Two drivers, one unforgettable concert, and a chance encounter with a pop sensation that leaves Oscar questioning everything he thought about music—and maybe even himself.

The party had finally started to die down. The lights were dimmer now, the music quieter, and the once-packed rooftop was nearly empty. People had trickled out over the last hour, their designer heels in hand and jackets slung over tired shoulders.

You stood just outside the venue, wrapped in your coat, your clutch tucked under one arm. The cool night air hit your face and brought a shiver down your spine. You reached for your phone, opening a ride app and hovering over the “Request Taxi” button.

Just as you were about to tap, headlights swept over the pavement, followed by the low, familiar purr of an engine. A car pulled up beside you—sleek, familiar, and unmistakably his.

The window rolled down, and there he was, in the driver’s seat, a crooked smile playing on his lips.

“Do you need a ride?,” Oscar said, raising his brows like this was just another normal day.

You blinked, surprised. “What are you still doing here?”

He shrugged casually, as if he didn’t just completely throw you off balance. “What can I say? I’m your personal chauffeur at this point.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, but the warmth blooming in your chest was impossible to ignore.

“You really don’t have to—” you started, but he interrupted.

“I want to,” he said simply, already unlocking the door.

You hesitated for only a second before walking over and getting into the passenger seat. The familiar scent of cologne and leather filled the car, calming you in a way you hadn’t expected.

You buckled your seatbelt and turned toward him. “Well… thank you. Again.”

Oscar glanced at you with a quiet smile. “Anytime.”

You were about to say something else—something slightly more serious, maybe even real—when your stomach let out a loud, unmistakable growl.

You froze, eyes wide. “Oh my god.”

Oscar’s eyes flicked to you, amused. “Was that… you?”

“I haven’t eaten since noon,” you admitted, blushing. “I didn’t really have time between interviews and hair and makeup and Vogue…”

He laughed under his breath and shook his head. Without another word, he turned the car around, heading in the opposite direction.

You frowned, glancing out the window. “Where are we going?”

“To get you some food.”

You gawked at him. “Oscar, you don’t have to—”

“I do.” He said, throwing you a sideways look. “I think I know I place.”

Fifteen minutes later, you were pulling up to a 24-hour drive-thru, both of you laughing as you tried to decide what to get. Oscar insisted you needed fries and a burger, and you argued that a milkshake was non-negotiable.

Eventually, you ended up with bags of food on your laps, parked in a quiet corner of a nearly empty lot. The city glowed in the distance, but inside the car it was just the two of you, lit by the soft dashboard light.

You bit into your burger and moaned dramatically. “This is better than any five-star catering I’ve had all year.”

Oscar smirked, sipping his drink. “Told you. Midnight drive-thru is a sacred experience.”

Between bites of food and swigs of soda, the conversation drifted into easy laughter. You told him about the time you fell off a stage during rehearsal once and tried to pretend it was “performance art.” He told you how he once got stuck in a racing simulator during a PR event and had to be helped out by three engineers and a very amused Lando which made you laugh.

OSCAR'S POV

Oscar watched you as you laughed—really laughed—your head tilted back slightly, eyes crinkled in that way they only did when you weren’t trying to be anyone but yourself. The golden city light danced across your skin through the windshield, soft and flickering, and he found himself unable to look away.

You were still holding a half-eaten fry, but you hadn’t taken a bite in minutes. You were too caught up in telling a story. He’d barely heard the end of the story because, honestly, he was too distracted by how beautiful you looked mid-laughter.

Not stage-beautiful. Not makeup-team-perfect. Just... you. Hair falling slightly out of place, voice still raspy from the night, ketchup near the corner of your mouth from the last bite of your burger.

And before he even registered what he was doing, Oscar leaned in slightly and reached out, thumb brushing against the corner of your lips.

“You had something,” he murmured, quietly, gently.

You stilled instantly.

Your eyes met his, wide and uncertain, and his breath caught.

The world seemed to pause. The soft hum of the engine, the quiet of the empty lot, the warmth lingering between you—it all disappeared for a second. It was just you and him, leaning in ever so slightly, gravity pulling you toward each other like something inevitable.

He could feel the heat of your breath now. He wasn’t sure who was moving first—maybe both of you, maybe neither—but the space between you was disappearing fast, your gaze flicking to his mouth for just a second—

And then his phone rang.

Loud. Obnoxious. Shattering the moment in a single second.

Oscar flinched and let out a breathy laugh, pulling back as he fumbled for his phone in the cupholder.

“Seriously?” he muttered under his breath, glancing at the screen.

You let out a soft laugh too, awkward but breathless, pulling back slightly and tucking your hair behind your ear.

He silenced the call without answering, but the spell was broken now.

Still, as he looked over at you—cheeks flushed, lips parted, avoiding his eyes—he couldn’t help but smile.

YOUR POV

The car ride back to the hotel was quiet.

Not uncomfortable quiet—just different. The kind of silence that wasn’t really silence at all, not with your thoughts spinning the way they were. You leaned your head against the window, watching the blurred city lights race past, but your mind was stuck in that one moment.

Oscar’s hand, gently brushing the corner of your mouth.

The way his eyes had looked into yours—warm and steady and a little hesitant.

The way you had both leaned in, the air charged between you, and how your heart had been pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it.

And then the phone. Of course.

You sighed, not loud enough for him to hear.

What even was that? Was it a moment? A mistake? A glitch in the fake-dating matrix? It didn’t feel fake. Not to you. And definitely not when he looked at you like that—like he wasn’t just acting.

You peeked at him out of the corner of your eye. He was focused on the road, hands relaxed on the wheel, brow furrowed just slightly. Maybe he was overthinking too. 

The thought made you smile, even as your nerves twisted into a knot.

Before you knew it, you were pulling up to the hotel. Oscar stopped in front of the entrance, the soft hum of the engine lingering in the background as you unbuckled your seatbelt and hesitated.

You didn’t want to leave. Not really.

You turned to him, hand on the door handle, but heart pounding. “Thanks for tonight,” you said softly, offering a smile that felt a little shakier than usual.

His eyes met yours. “Anytime,” he said, just as soft. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

He nodded back, but the quiet between you grew again—familiar, full of something unspoken.

And then, before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned over the center console, just a little closer than you usually would, and kissed him on the cheek.

It was light. Barely more than a brush. But deliberate.

Oscar froze.

You pulled back quickly, cheeks warm, trying not to smile too much as you opened the car door.

“Goodnight, Oscar,” you said, voice gentle but steady.

He blinked at you, stunned—but then you caught it: the soft pink climbing up his cheeks, the way his lips parted like he was about to say something but couldn’t.

The last thing you saw as you closed the door was him sitting there, blushing.

And yeah, maybe you were overthinking—but maybe, just maybe, you weren’t the only one.

Next Part

@justaf1girl, @bm571158, @raweceekk

[yourimagines]

Office days

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Gif is not mine

* Triggers

- Summary: you work at the McLaren headquarters,

Y/N POV

“So the drivers will spend the last few days off here in the office.” CEO Zak Brown said. “Are there any more questions?” We all shook our heads. “Alright, let’s prepare and finish the other half of the season with a good sprint.” We all stood up and walked to our own offices. “Y/L/N.” Zak called me. “Yes?” “Can i asked you something?” “Of course.” “Lando requested if it was possible to spend the few days at your office, he’s willing to learn more about the new developments for the next few years.” “Of course he can, I have a few interesting days come along, it will be interested for him.” “Good to hear that he’s welcome at you office. I will send him Monday to you department.” “Good, I’ll see him then.” We both parted our ways. I had a big smile on my face. ‘Lando Norris is interested in my work.’

——— Monday Morning———

I was sitting at my desk when I heard a knock on my door. “Come in!” The door opened and Lando stepped in side. “Hello Lando, please take a seat.” I pointed at the seat in front of my desk. “Thank you.” He smiled and took place. “I heard you wanted to look more into our next generation race cars.” “Yes correct, with new rules and developments, I want to understand our vision a bit more for in the future.” I nod at his response. “Well we are very busy with that, the team is already striving for the newest car for next season.” He nods. “But we also would like your opinion and feedback for in the future.” “I can do that.” “Good, let’s take a walk than.” We both stood up and walked to the factory. “Here is the team, collecting data and transmitting it on our newest design. We change this very often with the data we get from the race results.” We walked through the factory, everyone was at work, behind the computer, simulators and more. “This factory is different from the one at level 3.” “Yes we are looking more into the future, while they look at the present. Our work will get there when we are ready.” He nods, looking around the facility. “Have you ever been to a race?” “No I haven’t. I hope in the future.”

We went on a lunch break. Lando followed me behind, asking a lot of questions about the department but also about myself. “So you are 24 years old?” “Yes, same age as you.” “And already this high in the cooperation?” “I had some help to get me here, my farther works at the factory at level 3.” We both took place and started to eat lunch. “I still find it impressive what you do.” “You do? It’s not like racing and training every day.” “No but we need everyone’s effort to make us win.” I smiled at him. “I hope you learn something in these days, it’s not like I can help you with the issues you have now on your car.” “But it makes me understand more about the team.” He said while taking a bite from his sandwich.

——— Friday———

Lando walked in and plopped down in the chair. “Good morning Lando.” “Good morning Y/N.” I was typing a mail as he was spinning around in the chair. “So what’s the plan today.” “Driving.” He stopped spinning his chair and looked at me with a shocked face. “Driving?” “Yes driving.” “But we can test the cars during the season.” “We know, we are not going to drive a F1 car.” I finished the mail and stood up. “McLaren has a new car for our McLaren customers and we are going to test it.” “Really?!” He jumped up. “Yes really, we work very close with that department, so are you ready?” “Hell yeah.” We both walked through the hallways, arriving outside where they where waiting. “Ahh there you are.” Head of customers Josh welcomed us. “Hello Josh, nice to see you too.” I gave him a hug. “Josh, Lando is joining us today, if you don’t mind.” “Of course not, welcome Lando I hope you can keep up with her.” As he nodded at my direction. Lando looked a bit unpleasant. “ of course, she a good teacher for that matter.” Josh smiles and turned to me. “Let me show you our newest car.” He guides us to the new car. “The new generation of sports car, newest model with our newest engine….”

Lando POV

I was looking at how Josh was trying to impress Y/N. She looked very excited as he stood close to her, telling about the newest car. “You want a test drive?” Josh asked her. “Me? I think you should asked our driver Lando.” Josh didn’t look at me, he just huffed at the idea. “No… I think it’s better that you drive, he needs to focus more on driving his car to the finish line.” I was shocked what he just said. “I’m sorry?” I asked while Y/N looked between us. Josh just smiled sarcastically at me. “I think we should let the lady drive, it’s called manners.” This guy… “okay, let’s not get to that path of the road. I’ll drive it.” Josh smiles at her. “Let’s get you in the car then.” I stayed behind watching him flirting with her. I felt jealousy creeping in. ‘Lando forget it, he’s more mature than you are.’

“Thank you Josh.” She stepped out of the car. “No thank you.” He gave her a wink. “Lando did you see the inside of the car yet?” She looked at me while Josh closed the door quickly. “Yes.” She was surprised with my short answer, she quickly smiled. “Okay, Josh thank you for showing us the new car, I assume you already mailed me the details about this car?” “Yes i did, I’m fast you know.” “I know, then we are done here, we have to go back we have a meeting.” “I understand, I’ll hope I see you very soon Y/N.” She turned around. “Let’s go before we are to late.” Josh didn’t say anything to me as we walked away. “What a beautiful car, don’t you think.” I hummed at her question. “We’re using some of the data to our f1 cars, mostly engine wise.” I just nodded. She didn’t say anything, looking a bit hurt from my behaviour. We both walked into her office as she closes the door behind us. “Lando are you alright, you seemed so quiet.” “No I’m fine.” I said in a flat tone. “Well you don’t behave like your fine.” She sits down on her chair. “Since when do you care, all you care about is the stupid car.” Her smile fell, hurt was now on display. “Well I’m sorry Lando that I’m passionate about my job, I think it’s time for you to leave, I have a private meeting in a minute.” She didn’t looked at me, her eyes where looked on het computer screen. “Yeah of course.” I walked out of her office. ‘Stupid idiot!’ I walked quickly through the hallways, trying not to lose my shit.

Y/N POV

I sat in disbelief in front of my computer. ‘What did I do wrong?’ I stared at my screen, my agenda was empty. I got a notification from Josh. “Newest developments for our smartest woman Y/N” I cringed at the mail. “Weirdo.” I said while opening the data. I read everything till it was time to go home. I made sure everything was off in the office and walked through the empty hallways of the department. Then I saw Lando sitting in the main hall, looking at his phone. “Lando, im heading home, I hope i see you monday.” He looked up, eyes where bloodshot, likes he’s been crying. “Lando are you okay, what happened?” He’s hooked his head. “Nothing important, I want to apologise for my behaviour earlier today.” I nod at him. “I hope I didn’t ruin your vibe for your meeting tho.” “I lied there was no meeting.” “But you said it twice, you said it to Josh.” “Yes for us to escape, I’m not there to listen to his insults. Josh likes me but I already told him I’m not interested, doesn’t listen to me.” “You don’t like him?” “No he’s weird and besides I already like someone else.” “Oh. Lucky guy then.” Lando looked at his shoes. “He is, because he did hurt her feelings today, saying she only cares about that stupid car.” His head shot up, looking surprised at me. “Wait you like me?” “Of course, I didn’t just did this for the team, I was happy you wanted to look at my department and stuff.” He laughs. “No freaking way, I told Zak I wanted this because I already had a crush and needed a reason to talk to you.” We both laughed. “Do you forgive me and give me a proper chance?” I prentend to think. “Don’t know, Josh already asked me….” I cracked a smile at him. “No that would be a mistake, you need someone with manners.” “I think your right.” He walked up to me. “So you give me a chance?” “Yes of course I will. You’re to handsome to not give you a chance.” He got a blush on his cheeks. “Well thank you, your beautiful as well.” We both walked with a smile on our faces to our cars. “If you have time we can hang out tomorrow?” “That would be nice.” “Okay, I’ll text you.” I nodded. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” I hopped in my car. “Yeah see ya tomorrow.” I waved at him and drove off. Smiling like a idiot. ‘I’m falling for Lando Norris.’

[whiteraven87]

Driven by Speed: A diamond among stones - 17. Wicked Game

------

The Unstoppable Series - Masterlist

Part 1: A Diamond among stones

Prologue

F1 start

Loss and Pain

Calm after the storm

First victory

Unbreakable

Unexpected blow

The Secret

Beginning of New Era

The Burden of a Leader

Sad Anniversary

Unexpected feelings

Hungry Eyes

The Infernal Race

Kiss from A Rose

I shouldn't

Wicked Game

They would be Proud of You

Unstoppable

This is the Beginning

Epilogue

---------------------------

Warnings: long (very long) slow burn, age gap (23 years), woman racing in F1, boss/driver relationship, difficult and painful past, death, anxiety,

---------------------------

17. Wicked Game

Qatar, Mercedes Motorhome, Evening

POV Toto

This season was hell.

For the fans—it was a spectacle. A rivalry Formula 1 hadn’t seen in years. Three drivers fighting for the title, point by point, race by race.

For me—an endless agony. Max, Lewis, Miriell.

Each of them had everything it took to become champion. Each had the talent, the determination, the hunger for victory. But above all, my eyes were on her.

I knew how much it was costing her. I saw Miriell struggle every day. Pushing herself to the limit in the simulator, analyzing data late into the night, waking up at dawn to perfect every detail of her driving.

I saw her clench her jaw after a bad qualifying lap, dig her nails into her palms when she lost by mere hundredths.

I saw her fight. And now… now I felt her slipping away.

At first, I ignored it. Blamed it on exhaustion, on pressure. After all, she was carrying more on her shoulders than she should. But the more I watched her, the less I believed that was the case.

She was avoiding me.

Not in an obvious way. Miriell was too smart for that. But I knew her too well. I recognized when she avoided my gaze, when her answers were shorter than usual, when she deliberately steered clear of places she knew I would be.

I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what was going on in her head.

That evening, I was about to leave for the hotel. I turned off the light in my office in the motorhome and headed for the exit.

Then I heard it.

A guitar. Soft, melancholic notes floating through the cool autumn air.

I knew who it was.

I moved toward the upper terrace without making a sound. And there she was—alone.

Sitting on a wooden bench, her long fingers moving over the strings with the ease of someone who had done it for years. And then she started singing.

"What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you..."

I recognized the song—Wicked Game.

Her voice was pure, melodic, but there was something else in it. Longing.

Something tightened in my chest.

I stood in the shadows, watching her—the girl who dared to challenge the best drivers in the world, who was strong, relentless, unyielding. But right now, I didn’t see a warrior.

I saw fragility. Something she so carefully concealed. And suddenly, I wanted to know exactly what was going on in her mind.

I started forming questions in my head, ones I could ask. But I knew a direct approach wouldn’t work. If I asked, she would shut down even more. I couldn’t force her to open up. I had to wait.

Miriell finished singing, lowered the guitar onto her lap, and sat motionless for a long moment, staring at the track lights in the night.

She didn’t notice me. I turned and left just as quietly as I had come.

That night, I lay awake for hours. I could feel something shifting between us, the thread that had always connected us growing tighter.

Lying there, staring at the ceiling, I already knew—I loved her.

It had been there for a while now. But I had fought it.

I waited, hoping it would pass. But deep down, I knew it wouldn’t.

With every day, with every breath and every smile, she became closer to me.

Inevitable Feelings

Qatar, Mercedes Motorhome, Evening

POV Miriell

This season felt like a war.

I couldn't remember a day when I didn’t feel exhausted. I couldn’t remember a night when I wasn’t analyzing every lap, every turn, every mistake. Max, Lewis, and I—three drivers who threw ourselves at each other’s throats every Sunday.

It was the best thing Formula 1 had seen in years. But for me? It was hell.

I had to be strong. Not just for myself, but for the team. Every fraction of a second mattered, every pit stop could determine the championship. I couldn’t afford to show weakness.

And yet… I had long felt my thoughts were scattered.

All because of him.

Toto.

He was my mentor. My support. Someone I trusted in a way I had never trusted any man. After years of building walls around myself, he was the only one who had managed to break through them. With him, I felt safe.

And that was fine… or at least it should have been.

But for some time now, I had started to notice things I had previously ignored. The way he looked in a perfectly tailored suit. The way he focused on documents, his hands moving over the paper with the precision any surgeon would envy. The way his smile—that subtle, barely perceptible curve of his lips—made my heart race.

It shouldn’t have been like this.

He was my boss. He was older. He was… out of my reach.

But my heart didn’t care about what was reasonable.

At night, when I was alone, the longing became unbearable. I craved his presence. I was terrified that if he ever found out… I would lose everything.

The closer I got to him, the more I understood that this wasn’t just a fleeting infatuation. This was love—silent, hidden, shy, but real.

I was afraid he would notice. I was afraid that if he ever saw what I felt for him, everything would fall apart. Our friendship, my career, my place in the team.

So I started pulling away and locked those feelings inside myself.

I pushed them to the back of my mind and focused on my goal. The championship. The training. The analysis. The work with the team.

That was my shield. But even it couldn’t protect me from moments of weakness.

Like that evening.

I was exhausted. Mentally, physically. Too tired to return to the hotel, too restless to sleep. So I took my guitar and went to the motorhome terrace.

I started playing. Soft, melancholic notes carried through the night air, my fingers moving over the strings mechanically, as if they remembered the melody better than I did.

"What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you..."

I closed my eyes and let the music say what I couldn’t.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t notice I wasn’t alone.

I didn’t know how long he had been standing there… but I felt him.

His presence.

Toto.

I didn’t need to see him to know he was there. There was something in the way the air around me changed, in the almost imperceptible shift in the atmosphere.

Had he been listening from the start? Had he seen how fragile I was in that moment?

My heartbeat quickened, but I didn’t dare look in his direction.

Because if our eyes met… if he saw in mine everything I had tried so desperately to hide…

I couldn’t let that happen, so I didn’t look up.

I kept playing.

When I finished, I sat in silence, waiting for my thoughts to settle, but he was already gone, leaving behind only the echo of his presence.

And me... With a racing heart and the fear that if I didn’t stop feeling what I felt for him…

One day, it would destroy me.

-----------

NEXT -> 18. They would be Proud of You

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"I put my armor on, show you how strong I am."

Read the story here:

AO3 Unstoppable Series

Wattpad Part1 I Wattpad Part 2

======

[memorycycle]

post for @wuggen asked to see the code i wrote for simulating a realistic car engine so here

its built in godot btw

the script extends rigidbody3d cus im actually just moving an invisible sphere along the ground with a car basically stapled to it

did you know car engines put out different levels of torque at different rpms which affects like basically everything about the car. the torque curves are actually way more complicated than this, they kind of look like ramps with a hump in the middle followed by a dip followed by a bigger hump. but im just doing something that looks more like a perfect mound here. it works fine

i found the equation power=torque*rpm/9549.3 online from a forum where some guy posted the results of a dyno run on his porsche. the number 9549.3 is definitely specific to that porsche, so its probably a variable id want to be able to change later i guess

theres 2 big scary chunks of code here written by someone else which youre looking at in the pic above. i dont know shit about rotating and transforming 3d shapes so yea thanks guy on youtube

^this is basic shit but let me say one thing having the layout of accelerating with up on the right stick and braking with down on the right stick makes racing games so much more intuitive to play because suddenly it all just becomes one button that like the player understands in their mind as just "movement" and say for example when the player is coming up on a turn and they point both the steering and throttle joystick towards the turn whats happening is that they steer towards the turn of course but also they decelerate because the right stick is no longer pointed fully up in the Y direction, its Y value is now something like 0.7 instead of 1.0 because of the angle the stick is pointed in, that extra 0.3 went to the X direction , meaning the player automatically decelerates the car based on the angle of the turn without even having to think about it. if the turn starts to become more hairpin the angle is so great that the Y starts becoming negative and now braking is happening instead of acceleration automatically. its actually beautiful how simple and effective it is

^heres my cool function that does basically everyuthing related to the rpm. different gears rise and fall at different rpm speeds and it even simulates the effect of engine braking caused by releasing the throttle when shifting gears. it has so many fucking magic numbers from me just fiddling with it for like years trying to get the acceleration and shit to feel just right

^this ones mad complicated i commented every line

awesome gear shifting stuff its so fucking yummy because if u look closely in the video at the top u will notice i never use the brake to slow down. i downshift gears which causes causes the car to lose speed because the power it was giving out is less efficient now due to the lower gear ratio which also means the rpm jumps up to redline speeds which lets me instantly shift back up to retain some acceleration i cant tell u how satisfying it is to drive this thing and it feels like a real car

^and thats it thats the last function. 212 lines of code honestly pretty small tbh. theres still stuff missing like for example when a car is turning the rpm starts increasing at a slower rate due to things like centripetal force traction rolling resistance weight transfer weight load engine load steering angle friction but im probably just gonna end up calculating it only based on velocity * steering angle or something lol. if anyone made it this far i contratutle you i dont think anyone who isnt as obsessed as i am with this stuff could ever read this whole thing so thank u

[robinfrinjs]

Both Envision drivers - Sebastien Buemi and team returnee Robin Frijns - will be required to race at the WEC event for Toyota and BMW respectively, meaning that as it stands they will be out of the first Berlin FE race, on the Saturday

Formula E is likely to issue a further iteration of its calendar to confirm the venue for the only current to-be-decided race on the schedule in Italy over the weekend of April 13/14. This is expected to be either Misano or Imola, although a recent simulation study of the Vallelunga circuit near Rome was also carried out.

Additionally, Jakarta being added as a season finale in August is believed to be still possible, meaning that a 17-race billing might be achievable.

But Buemi told The Race that he “still has not lost hope [the WEC clash will disappear] because I know things will change again when they publish [a calendar update] in November".

“I was quite happy to see that we don’t have the clash with the prologue [WEC test in Qatar, which was initially set to be on the same weekend as an end-of-February FE date] and Le Mans tests [now free of the scratched Jakarta race]."

Buemi suggested reducing Berlin to a single race and making Portland a double-header would be a logical change to ensure no direct clash between Berlin and the WEC's Spa race.

-

Another driver who is likely to be in the frame for a drive at Envision is Tom Dillmann, simulator driver for its powertrain supplier Jaguar.

Ex-Dragon-Penske driver Joel Eriksson has also served as a test and reserve driver for Jaguar. The firm is expected to announce its full wider 2024 FE driver line-up before the end of this year, which will make Envision's potential fallback plans clearer.

Other drivers that could be affected may include Abt Cupra’s Nico Mueller, who may be held to racing for the Peugeot WEC team at Spa.

Abt is expected to call upon the services of Kelvin van der Linde, who subbed for an injured Robin Frijns in three events last season, to deputise.

FE is expected to take precedence for Norman Nato, Jean-Eric Vergne and Stoffel Vandoorne, while the situation regarding Mahindra's FE returnee Nyck de Vries remains unclear as he is expected to also be racing for the Toyota WEC team in 2024 but has yet to be officially announced.

[toyota-supra]

what racing games would you suggest for getting into the genre

racing is an extremely wide genre to know how to answer that without some direction so instead of giving you a good entry point I'll say try finding multiple entry points of multiple subgenres and see where this goes. the most I can recommend is get a few emulators ready bc going off of modern consoles can only give you so much (and a lot of price-related headaches)

check out simple arcade racing like ridge racer type 4, the psp ridge racers, outrun 2, daytona usa, etc more modern ish arcade racing like any forza horizon, the crew 2, or ps2 classics like need for speed underground 2 and midnight club 3 arcade simulators like older gran turismo titles (I've only played 2 and 3 and I prefer the former) and forza motorsport (which I have not played) rally games like colin mcrae rally 2 and 3, dirt rally 2.0 and v-rally 4

try playing a few hours of each of these, and when you want to check a different game out, try prioritizing stuff you know (like any car you recognize might make you want to play something more, or like a specific type of race or championship that you already understand), or charm style and soundtrack (things that will get you interested preemptively) and go from there. this will also habituate you to the difficulty and expectations of these games, for example I think someone who cant drive will have a lot of difficulty with them but bashing your head against whichever of these is more interesting to you will make you eventually understand things like difficult terrain driving and how each type of terrain or weather condition differs from the other for rally and sim games, or how many ways there are to take corners if you play more arcade-y games and see the different stuff they ask from you

[umgeorge]

george russell is interviewed during the press conference on media day, japan - april 4, 2024 (transcript under the cut)

Interviewer: "George, coming to you now. First of all, any ill effects from your crash in Melbourne? How are you feeling?" George: "I'm feeling all good." Interviewer: "Thank you. Look, let's talk about this weekend and the performance of your car. It seems to fluctuate from race to race, sometimes session to session, so how confident can you be, coming to Suzuka?" George: "It's still obviously early days in the season. I think there's a clear trend where we know our strengths in the car, our weaknesses. Definitely performing stronger in the low speed corners, struggling a bit in the high speed corners, of which there's more of in Jeddah, more of in Melbourne, more of in Suzuka. These are the fastest circuits of the season. There's still plenty to understand, so as I said, still early days. We know we're not where we want to be, but everybody's working really hard to improve the correlation, get a bit closer to what we're seeing at the factory on the simulator and find some performance." Interviewer: "You've been driving the sim back in Brackley since Melbourne. Did you make any breakthroughs there?" George: "I think every time you're back, you're understanding things further. There's never gonna be a silver bullet for any team. You're chipping away at it, you want to find big breakthroughs, you wanna find big gains. It's rare that these happen these days in Formula 1. The level is so, so high. Everybody's moving forward, but we're confident that we're gonna make another step in the right direction. Will it be enough is another question, but as we said, it's still early days in the season." Interviewer: "Alright." [time jump] Journalist: "Nelson Valkenburg, Viaplay, Netherlands. Mostly for George, this one, but for the group, as well: A lot's been said about brake-testing last week. Is there a discussion to be had amongst yoursleves about what is legal, what is normal, what you can do and what you can't do? Do you expect more discussions to be had? For you, George, and also for Max, possibly?" George: "Yeah, I think it was obviously a bit of a strange situation that happened last week. As I said at the time, totally caught by surprise. I was actually looking at the steering wheel, making a switch change in the straight, which we all do across the lap, but when I looked up I was in Fernando's gearbox and it was sort of too late, and then next thing I know I'm in the wall. So I think if it were not to have been penalized it would have really opened a can of worms for the rest of the season /and/ in junior categories, of saying are you allowed to brake in a straight? Are you allowed to slow down, change gear, accelerate, do something semi-erratic? I don't take anything personally, with what happened with Fernando, and it probably had bigger consequences than it should have, but as I said if it went unpenalized, can you just brake in the straight? I don't know, so… Yeah. Nothing more to say, really." [time jump] Journalist: "Diego Mejia, Fox Sports, Mexico. Question for George: George, did you get to speak to Fernando after his penalty? Was there any need to clear the air over it?" George: "Yeah, we actually saw each other back home, just coincidentally bumped into each other in a coffee shop…" Verstappen: "Did you brake test him there, or no?" George: [laughs] "No, as I said before, it's nothing personal. When the helmet's on we're all fighters and competing. When the helmet's off you have respect for one another, so of course a lot of emotions in the moment, but we both moved forward from this." Interviewer: "Did you discuss it in the coffee shop?" George: [laughs] "No, we didn't. So he didn't get my coffee, though, so that's probably the least that could have happened, but no, it's history now."

[sophiewagentje]

Listen I’ve never totally understood why they decided to put Nyck in that Alpha Tauri nor why they created such a hype around it and why he went along with it while it put so much pressure on him. But if he really is fired with immediate effect.. that’s just brutal man. Like you steal his opportunity to at least properly enjoy his last race and idk I find it brutal to fire him while his home race, his dream race, is in three races. Like if you do want to fire him over the summer, at least give him that.

And not gonna lie I don’t understand the swap to Daniel at all. It’ll put him right back into the situation he came out off: a bad bad car, not number 1 in the team and at least another year that he’ll have to wait for a better seat. Cuz honestly if Checo ends up 2nd in the wdc? No way rbr will fire him prematurely, not unless Daniel manages to pull that AT into the points every fucking race. And I know a lot of people on here loveee Daniel but I don’t get why you’d put an even older driver than the one you’ve just fired in that team. Not while you have a very promising rookie in Liam Lawson. And yes Daniel has loads of experience but does AT really need more experience? Does that team need a new fight over who is gonna be the number 1 driver while Yuki has been doing amazing this year? Daniel isn’t gonna play second violin to Yuki and Yuki has earned his place in that team. And I don’t care that Daniel was a Redbull kid, he left Redbull and went to their direct competition. He hasn’t properly raced a Redbull in four and a half years, let alone an AT that’s fighting for the title of worst car on the grid. Maybe he’ll have more support than at mclaren but the car won’t be better, it’ll probably be worse.. and that has to convince the top teams he can race for them? That he’ll be a good investment? And please take a reality check if you honestly think Marko is gonna give him a contract with a guarantee of a rbr seat. Ain’t no way in hell Daniel will get that.

Anyways I think it wouldn’t be a good career move for Daniel. I think it’s better to stay checo’s direct competition by driving that simulator and doing the test to show he can keep up with him, than driving an AT and fighting with Magnussen of all people. Maybe the rest of this year in AT to show off his race craft could be something but Daniel and Redbull are kidding themselves if he drives an AT next year. Daniel cuz he’ll never get out of the AT and Redbull cuz they can’t call AT a junior team anymore if they keep putting people in the AT that aren’t Redbull rookies anymore

[grogumaximus]

Jos, do you agree that this was one of the most difficult seasons for Max?

"It certainly was, because of the performance of the car. He was already saying at the beginning of the championship that there were problems, but in the team they laughed, because he was winning. However, when the others grew up, it became clear that Max was right."

What didn't work?

"The wrong directions were taken in the development of the car. The balance between the front and the rear has never been ideal and on top of that the car breaks down on the bumps."

How did Max react?

"He worked hard to get the most out of it, despite the frustration of not being able to compete against the McLarens, who have long been the best on the track. He went to the factory more often, for simulator tests, and tried to help the engineers."

How did you handle the pressure around the team after the Horner case?

"In these moments, he manages to isolate himself from everything. He has the maturity and experience to face any situation. At home he has always been relaxed. Perhaps the most tense moment was in Mexico, due to the negativity spread by the English press (after the double penalty for the fierce duel with Lando Norris, ed. ). But all this is an extra motivation for Max. Nothing worries or scares him".

He was also at the center of controversy for certain statements…

"He won't change. That's just how he is, he always says what he thinks."

Who was closest to him?

"Me, our manager Raymond (Vermeulen), his engineer Giampiero Lambiase and of course Helmut Marko."

What was the best moment of 2024?

"The win in Brazil in the wet, coming back from seventeenth place. He managed to come back very quickly, took the lead and won by 20 seconds, without making any mistakes. It reminded me of his race in 2016, also in Interlagos, with the outside pass on Rosberg in the “Senna Esses”. It was incredible then too."

Starting this year, Max is traveling to European races with his motorhome. How did this idea come about?

"It's something he likes, because this way he has his own traveling home, he always sleeps in the same bed and enjoys more privacy, surrounding himself only with people he trusts. And then he had a simulator placed in the motorhome so he can train whenever he wants. It's a hobby of his, sometimes he stays there until three in the morning, but then he rests at least seven hours. I leave him alone and go to the hotel."

What moments do you share?

"At the races we eat together and talk about everything that happens. I can tell him anything frankly. Our relationship was built like this from the beginning and I only want the best for him. The difference is that now I don't get angry, because Max is a man and can do what he wants with his life and his choices, while as a child he needed a few scoldings".

What do you remember about those years and the holidays with Michael Schumacher?

"We were with the family. Our sons, Max and Mick, were having fun together, even though they spoke different languages, and Michael was playing with them in the pool."

Why did Max say he no longer wants to train on karts like other F1 drivers?

"He raced a lot in karts, maybe too much, sometimes we even did mini races in three with his mother (the champion Sophie Kumpen; ed. ). He also explained to me that, if you drive them only a few days a year, you end up with bumps and pains all over your body. He prefers GT cars. But he continues to follow the boys".

The Verstappen.com Racing brand is linked to a team that uses the Ferrari 296 GT3. Whose choice is it?

"About Max, he likes Ferrari...".

In the meantime, Mercedes was looking for him.

"Normal, they want the fastest driver."

How long will he race in F1?

"We have a contract with Red Bull until 2028 and we will get there, then we will see. We will have to understand if Max will still be interested in F1. All his life he has been told what he had to do, even by me, and now it is happening with the team. The time will come when he will want to decide".

Has he already given you a preview?

"There is certainly much more to his life than F1, and Max is aware of that. He listens to his feelings a lot, he knows what he wants. But it's difficult to say what will happen. Maybe, in the future, he will stop for a year and then he will want to come back. Of course, it's not the records that motivate him. He doesn't need to win seven or eight world championships, he is already happy with what he has achieved."

What do you remember about Max's first victory?

"It was the first race with Red Bull, even today I get goosebumps when I watch the commentary in Dutch. At the beginning we only dreamed of getting to F.1, then that success came and years later the world title, everything came true very quickly".

Who will be Max's rival in 2025?

"Many say Hamilton is too old, but he is a driver who knows how to fight hard. Norris is fast, even if he still lacks experience. It will depend on who has the best car. Ferrari got lost this year, after a good start, but they reacted. Vasseur is doing a great job, he is a racing man who knows how to sniff out situations, I like him".

[ummick]

Mick’s Diary: Finding Gains in the Simulator

Hello, we’re back with another chapter of my diary with the team.

We last spoke before the summer break and that was a long time ago! Having a break during the season is very important. I think it’s getting more and more important as more races are added. Some teams don’t have the opportunity to do shifts and change personnel, so having the chance to unwind is vital. For me, it was a good break; a nice opportunity to rest for a bit and detach from motorsport, but also get ready for the second half of the year. Whenever I have some time off to unwind and relax I always like to do a lot of different things, trying to do new things and find the best way to switch off, which is very different from person to person. The last races that we did in Europe were my last two overnight sims doing race support. Now we’re well into the flyaways, with Singapore, Japan and now Qatar done. I spent some time in Tokyo and went to Australia between Japan and Qatar. Now I’m very excited for the next races. I’ve continued to settle into the team through the year and get to know more and more of my colleagues. I really enjoy being around the people. It’s incredible to be able to learn from all these great minds. I’ve been curious in getting to know everybody better and embed myself within the team. There were a few relationships from before joining that have helped. It’s been good to get to know the people that worked with my dad and all the new colleagues too. It's been nice to feel the enthusiasm about the simulator work across the year and with those final two overnight sessions. We’ve made some good progress in developing the car and that’s been cool to see. The overnight sims are obviously quite tiring, so it’s rewarding when you see something come out of it. We have a lot of work to get through, though, so you’re totally focused on that. We try to tick every box and help the team for the rest of the weekend. I’ll now be trackside across the whole weekend for these remaining grands prix. In my role as reserve driver, I need to be ready to jump in the car should Lewis or George not be able to drive. If I were back in the simulator at Brackley, I wouldn’t be able to do that. While my simulator work has mostly focused on W14, there have been plenty of learnings that are also useful for the future. The development of W15 started quite a while ago. It’s really an on-going progress. Everything we learn from this year’s car along the way feeds into next year, and we’ve learned a great deal. Everyone is working so hard to develop the best possible car we can for the start of next year. And in the background, there’s work on my own plans for next year. These are still evolving and it’s just a matter of trying to understand exactly which direction we can go in, how to fit in the commitments and things like that. It just takes time. As always, thanks so much for all the support, the kind words and comments I see. I hope you’ve enjoyed the insight this time around and I’ll speak to you later in the year.