#Moon writes f1

[namelessmoons-corner]

Paeonia officinalis - Tender love ☆ OP81

From the series petals unfolding, forever anew

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Mirabelle Desmarais (OC) Summary: Mirabelle is a Monaco-based florist and Oscar is a Formula 1 driver. They're trying to soft launch their relationship, but the world might decide otherwise. Wordcount: 1.8k AO3 link

Taken from a Instagram Live (23/07/2024)

Mirabelle is seen standing behind a table with a multitude of flowers in front of her. While she talks, she slowly chooses flowers to add to the bouquet in her hand, stripping them of their leaves. 

↬  So pretty! ↬  What kind of flowers are there? ↬  Who are the flowers for? ↬  How much do you charge for a bouquet? ↬  what if i’m allergic to flowers? ↬  Why aren’t you wearing gloves? ↬  Is that Oscar’s WAG? ↬  Why are u using insta live when twitch is available? ↬  the live is so soothing!

A woman’s voice, heavily accented,  cuts through Mirabelle’s humming. 

“So Mimi, I have a question from the viewers! How much does a bouquet cost?”

“Well it really depends! This one is made with peonies, and the budget of the client was 30 euros, so I’m putting 8 of them and agrementing it with some smaller flowers, like some heather and here I'm adding some achillées… I can't remember the name in english…” She frowns, clearly trying to remember the name of the flower. “I know! It’s milfoil! Yep, I'm adding some milfoil!”

↬  what do peonies mean? ↬  Please make me a bouquet! ↬  Why weren’t you at the Hungarian GP? ↬  That’s too much! ↬  I would never pay 30€ for a bouquet! ↬  please raise your prices ↬  Why is this girl so famous ↬  Can you answer? ↬  would you use twitch or ur lives? ↬  Please say hi Lily!

“Someone is asking if you can say hi Lily! and what peonies mean. They didn’t specify but I would guess that it’s about the language of flowers.” the same voice from before asks, coming from behind the camera.

“Well, hi Lily! I hope you’re doing well today! and peonies can mean a lot of different things, often associated with love. I have pink peonies here, and they represent tender love. I think for this bouquet, the client wants to show their admiration for the person they’ll give this to.”

↬  Are you a real florist? ↬  Where are you based? ↬  Do you know Oscar? ↬  Do you have a website? ↬ Insta is a mess; pls use Twitch ↬  I’d love to buy a bouquet from you ↬  What’s your favorite flower? ↬  Do you like f1?

“Mimi, someone is asking if you know Oscar!” The voice is amused, as if the woman knows something the viewers don’t. “And also if you like f1?”

Mirabelle blushes, her hair doing nothing to hide the red on her cheeks. “I know a lot of Oscars. And I do like F1, so I try to watch the Grand Prix when I have time.” After this intervention, Mirabelle focuses on the bouquet, adding the finishing touches before wrapping it carefully and stapling her business card to the paper sheet. She puts the bouquet aside then and says goodbye to the viewers before the live ends.

Monaco (23/07/2024)

After a long day of standing in her flower shop, plucking the leaves of flowers and creating bouquets, Mirabelle only wants to lie on her couch and take a nap. But her boyfriend and her have a dinner planned at the restaurant. Maybe she can still take a small nap. Less than an hour, she thinks. Her watch shows that it’s a bit after seven, and they’d decided to go out for nine thirty, so this means she still has some time before she needs to leave her flat for the small hole in the wall. But to leave her flat, she still needs to get to it. She’ll reach it in two minutes, but her feet are killing her.

Fortunately, she wore her dirty sneakers today and she doesn’t live far from her place of work. The perks of living in Monaco, she thinks. Maybe the only perk, aside from the beautiful view she has from her flat. She’s not here for the taxes, that’s for sure. And even if she wanted to pay less taxes, it’s not like the French government would let her.

Finally home, she removes her shoes and stretches her feet. The apartment is quite warm, hotter than the outside weather; but Mirabelle knows that it’s because she lives on the highest floor and that the building is quite old.

The fan is still where she left it this morning before leaving, so she puts a wet cloth on it before turning it on and opening the windows. Fresh air will be good.

As she goes to sit on the couch, the front door opens, keys jingling as Oscar lets himself into her flat. She’d given him the keys a few months ago, when she’d had time to make a copy of her own. At first, he’d tried to argue that he wouldn’t need them and that him having the keys to her home would be overstepping, but she’d reminded him that he still didn’t have a place in Monaco and what if he needed to put away his suitcase when she was working?

Against a logical argument that her boyfriend didn’t even try to counter, he’d just taken the keys with a sigh before adding them to his own key ring.

Mirabelle smiles at Oscar, happy to see him. He’s dragging a black suitcase into the flat, and she can see from her seat on the couch the eyebags underneath his eyes. She knows this wasn’t how her boyfriend had wanted to win his first Grand Prix, but McLaren shouldn't spoil what should have been a great day for her boyfriend.

She got up from the couch and crossed the distance separating them in three long strides, hugging him and holding on, the two of them alone, drawing comfort from the presence of the other.

Taken from Twitter (July 2024)

@/flowersandf1 Has anyone seen how @/mirabelledesmarais blushed after her friend mentioned Oscar?? I sense something is afoot ↬ @/oscatpastry I feel like there are some pics on twt floating around of them talking ↬ @/f14ever Obvi she knows Oscar, he’s super famous. She’s a nobody tho so imo she’s not even on his radar ↬ @/81futurewag And she’s boring and basic, isn’t she? she wouldn’t deserve him anywayssss

@/iddieformirabelle OMG @/mirabelledesmarais is so pretty, i’d die for her (writing this tweet in english because i’ve realised that she has 2 fandoms and i need them to interact) ↬ @/mimisflowers That’s so true!! i know that ive been a fan of hers for a few months now but i watch her english content because i don’t speak french except for oui oui baguette ↬ @/mirabellelaqueen i’ve met her once and she was so nice!! i have a picture with her now and i remember she was so surprised that i recognized her

@/oscarpiastriloml honestly whos this mirabelle and why are we hearing about her on f1 twt?? go back to your fcking flowers ↬ @/mimidefender4life btch who do u think u are? at least mirabelle is famous, go back to crying in ur moms skirts ↬ @/desfleurspourmirabelle jvous jure les fans de f1 ils sont desesperants vraiment des enfants (istg f1 fans are hopeless really they’re children)

@/op81wdc i have no idea who @/mirabelledesmarais is because i hyperfixate on f1 but could we please, the f1 fandom as a whole, leave her alone? like chill guys we don’t even if know they know each other but even if they did, it’s really not our business ↬ @/papayaforthewin hear hear ↬ @/hereforlandoscar i have no idea how i got to this side of twt, as im usually deep into landoscar land but i agree, lets leave this girl alone? are u people children ↬ @/orangepapaya EVEN IF THEYRE TOGETHER THEYRE BOTH CONSENTING ADULTS OMG

Monaco (still 23/07/2024, later in the day)

After an hour resting on the couch and looking at the white ceiling in all of its bareness, Mirabelle groans and gets up from her position, cracking the bones of her spine in a satisfying sound. Then come her shoulders, her elbows, her wrists and finally her fingers. Once she has finished sounding like wood creaking; she goes to her bedroom and slides open the door of her closet. What to wear? The restaurant is not high end, probably on the other side of the spectrum, and they’ve both been there multiple times.The sky is still clear from clouds; but the temperature has definitely dropped. When she puts her arm out of the window, she can feel the breeze of the sea moving her arm hairs, and she gets goosebumps.

She’s on the last floor of the building, so she knows that on the street, the air will be hotter. She wants to wear one of Oscar’s hoodies anyways, so she’ll probably steal it from his suitcase when he’s showering. She grins thinking about it. Oscar thinks he hides his emotions well but she can see  that he loves when she’s wearing his clothes. He’s got a possessive streak in him. 

After her shower, she decides to let her skin breath and only puts her serum before going back to the small living room and letting him know that the bathroom is free. He smiles at her gratefully and gets up to go shower. 

Once they're both ready, with her in a bright orange hoodie (it’s papaya, Oscar tells her, but honestly papaya is just a shade of orange), they put on their shoes and go out on the streets of Monaco, hand in hand.

The night is theirs to do as they please, and do as they please they shall do.

Instagram post (24/07/2024)

@/mirabelledesmarais

[Image of a strawberry blonde woman in her twenties holding more and thirty flowers in front of her. The flowers are not arranged in a bouquet, and they are all in shades of pinks and creams. Mirabelle is smiling wide, her hair in disarray]

🖤 💬 

20k Likes

mirabelledesmarais merci à tous d’être venu.e.s regarder le live, ça m’a fait plaisir de pouvoir échanger avec vous! (A thank you to everyone for watching the live, I was so happy to talk with you!)

And I listened to your suggestion, so the next live will be on my brand new Twitch channel @/mirabelletalksflowers (with a small surprise)

photographer: the wonderful @/celia_guillaume

Comments

@/celia_guillaume: OMG but who took that pic!! they must be so talented :) and now i need a bouquet from you ma star (my star)

@/autistic.s0up: obsessed with you! ���

@/lilyofthevalley: Quand est ce qu’on te voit dans une formule 4 🫣😘(when will we see you in a formula 4 car 🫣😘)

@/fleurtoujours: so pretty i’m on my knees

@/minaregardelaformule1: notre reine à toutes (our queen)

And here it is!! I'm happy that my writer's block finally lifted long enough this afternoon and tonight for me to get this out of my head ahaha! I'll probably write other installments in this series, so if you want to be on the taglist, don't hesitate to tell me :)

See you ★,°:.☆(￣▽￣)/$:.°★ 。

☽ Moon ☾

(the dividers are the work of art of @thecutestgrotto, go check her out!)

[snowseasonmademe]

hi everyone! im michaelah, i’m 20, i’m black, im a capricorn ♑️, and i’m american🇺🇸. let’s talk about music, fine men, astrology, girly topics, therapy sessions or anything you want to say or ask, this is a safe space. i have my masterlist of fics ive written, music i listen to and an important message about mental health. i hope you have fun here ;)

Mental Health Message

Masterlist

i’m down to chat if anyone has questions or anything you wanna talk about

xx🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[tinyikuya]

WIP

abit of f1 driver kaoru × figure skater izumi au stuff because all my friends are all screaming at me to write something

“If you won’t let me follow you through this triple header then I might die from touch starvation.” Izumi whines, voice high and pitchy when he knows it would get Kaoru to follow his every whims. And Kaoru is endeared by him greatly, even if Izumi is an enigma that needs to be broken down to be seen, to be understood.

“We won’t be home for a while if you come with me.”

“Don’t you have a huge flat in Monaco?” Izumi murmurs into his neck.

Monaco isn’t home; the maqjority of the drivers on the grid don’t even consider it home really. It’s just where his bed is, where his life settles. Though Kaoru did spend most of his holiday there, sulking in loneliness and isolation while everyone goes back for Christmas or new year, just because he would rather get run over than go back to Japan.

“Mmhm, but it’s not home.”

“Where is home then?”

Not Japan.

Not where he was born, not where his home race is; not the place that began and nurtured his motorsport dreams. Japan is not home for Kaoru, hasn’t been since his mother passed away leaving him drowning in hopeless dreams, where he fought for his life trying to prove that his dreams and entire existence at least were worth something. Japan is riddled with memories that haunt his sleep and people that play pretend-family judging his every move, eating up his career, waiting to swallow him whole at every tiny slip-up.

“To be quite honest, I don’t know Senacchi.”

Being a Hakaze is like a curse that will never go away. How ironic it is that the one thing that still connected him with his father haunts his entire life. Wind flutters his lashes while running through the race. Loneliness under the carefree pretense. Attachments form knowing that it will never stay constant. Feelings that never stay in one place that can be called home.

Izumi places a tiny peck at the side of his lips.

“I can be Kao-kun’s home then.”

But Izumi has become a constant in Kaoru’s life. The one who sits with him through darkness, rubbing circles on his wrists when he borderline having a panic attack in the driver room out of heavy expectation. The one who stayed, and will continue to be.

As long as he’s with Izumi, Kaoru is home.

[cheftsunoda]

reckless — ln4, op81

smau/real life

lando norris x !ex singer reader

oscar piastri x !singer reader

y/n and lando had been inseparable since they were nineteen, building a life together through the highs and lows. but lately, something felt off. as lando grew distant, yn’s suspicions quietly grew—until the truth unraveled…he’d been cheating with magui. instead of confronting him, yn poured her heartbreak into a song—one that ended their relationship for the world to hear. in the aftermath, she found comfort where she least expected it… in the arms of lando’s own teammate.

fc : stassie karanikolaou and various pinterest gals

special request from my love @cmgmikealson 🧡

i am legit posting heal your heart right as we speak so part 4 is posted if you’re looking for it

—

yourusername

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, carlossainz55, mclaren & 1,294,389 others.

yourusername : life’s been pretty good to me lately<3

—

username00 : so pretty love

username7 : no lando like?

username15 : he usually is first comment 🤨

username5 : im so confused where is her man

username8 : guys he is in the dump relax

alexandrasaintmleux : god you are so beautiful

liked by yourusername

yourusername : come smooch on me pretty

liked by alexandrasaintmleux

charles_leclerc : what did I walk into?

alexandrasaintmleux: look away cha

liked by yourusername

carlossainz55 : Miss you yn!

liked by yourusername

yourusername : miss you carlitos! golf with papà soon?

liked by carlossainz55 and carlossainzoficial

carlossainzoficial : Sí!

liked by yourusername and carlossainz55

kikagomes : my stunning girl

liked by yourusername

yourusername : love you to the moon and back

username10 : where tf is lando?

—

‘This chapter's about

How you said there was nobody else

Then you got up and went to her house

You guys always left me out’

—

He grabs his keys from the counter, barely glancing in my direction.

“I’ll be back later,” Lando says, voice flat.

“Where are you going?” I ask, keeping my tone light—casual, like I don’t already feel the distance growing between us.

He shrugs. “Just out.”

No name. No place. No explanation.

I nod, pretending not to care. “Okay. Be safe.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and silence floods the room. I sit there, staring at the space he just walked out of. My chest feels heavier than it should. I could’ve asked again, pressed for an answer—but what would that change? I already know the truth, even if I’m too scared to say it out loud. Something’s wrong. I feel it in the way he doesn’t look at me the same. In how he only kisses me when he thinks I’m not paying attention to the way his mind is somewhere else. Maybe I don’t argue because deep down… I’m tired of fighting for someone who’s already gone.

—

f1gossipgirls

457,296 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Rumors have been swirling for weeks about F1 driver Lando Norris and model/influencer Magui Corceiro, and it looks like things just heated up. The two were seen leaving Magui’s apartment early Tuesday morning, looking very cozy—and definitely not like just friends. Sources say Y/N, Lando’s longtime girlfriend, was not around at the time. The pair kept it low-key, both wearing sunglasses and casual fits, but witnesses couldn’t help but notice the chemistry (and the fact that lando was spotted there overnight).

—

username00 : yn deserved so much better. she gave that man years of loyalty and he gave her betrayal in return. i hope she writes a whole album about this.

username10 : lando leaving his apartment with Magui like we wouldn’t notice?? men have no shame.

username22 : you mean to tell me lando threw away 5 years with yn (the most stunning person on the planet) for felix’ sloppy seconds?

username30 : yn’s silence speaks louder than words.

usernameeee : lando FUMBLED.

—

‘When you told me that I was the only girl

You'd ever want in your life’

The post sits on my phone screen, still open. Lando and Magui, walking out of our apartment like it was theirs. Like I didn’t exist. When I hear the front door open, I don’t move. Just stare at the screen until it turns black. I lock it and set it face down.

Lando walks in, running a hand through his hair like he’s exhausted. “Hey, I’m back,” he says softly.

I look up, trying to sound casual. “Were you with Magui?”

He pauses in the middle of the room. Not long, but long enough.

Then he walks over slowly, kneels in front of me, and rests his hands gently on my knees. “Yeah,” he says, voice calm. “She needed someone to talk to. She was going through something, and I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“There are pictures,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” he murmurs. “They look worse than it was. I swear, Y/N. Nothing’s going on with her. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

His eyes search mine like he’s begging me to believe him. He squeezes my hands. “You’re the only one I want. You always have been.”

I nod slowly, swallowing the knot in my throat. “Okay.”

He leans in and kisses my forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I whisper back.

But I still don’t believe him.

Because love shouldn’t come with this much doubt.

And the part of me that used to feel safe with him… doesn’t anymore.

—

‘Each day goes by and each night, I cry

Somebody saw you with her last night

You gave me your word, "Don't worry 'bout her’

The room is quiet except for the occasional sniffle I try to stifle into my pillow. The sheets are pulled up to my chin, but they don’t feel warm—just heavy. Like everything else. My phone is beside me, screen dimmed, waiting for a notification that won’t come. No apology. No explanation. Just silence. I open my Notes app instead, the cursor blinking back at me like it knows what’s coming. I start typing, barely able to see through the blur in my eyes. The words hurt. But they feel true. They feel like mine. I let out a shaky breath, backlit by the soft glow of the screen, when a buzz cuts through the stillness.

Max Fewtrell :

Hey. I know Lando is my best friend but what he is doing to you is so wrong, yn. You’ve been loyal to him for so long. I saw him out with magui again. I wanted you to know. I’m so sorry.

My heart drops. Max never texts me like this. Not unless it’s something important. Not unless he feels like I deserve to know. I stare at the message, my fingers trembling. He lied. Looked me in the eye and told me she just “stopped by.”

I feel something crack quietly inside me—not loud or explosive, just the kind of break you can’t come back from.

—

‘How could you be so reckless with my heart?’

I lie in bed for a while, Max’s message burning a hole in my chest. I keep hoping—praying—there’s a reasonable explanation. That I’m overthinking. That he’s telling the truth. But something inside me shifts. That quiet voice that’s been whispering doubts for weeks gets louder. I can’t ignore it anymore. So I get up. I move through the apartment on autopilot, careful not to make a sound, like I’m trespassing in a home that used to feel like mine. Lando’s bag is by the door, half-zipped, carelessly tossed like everything else in this relationship lately. I kneel beside it, heart pounding. I don’t want to be this person. I never wanted to look. But he made me. Inside, I find his phone charger, his sunglasses… and then a second phone. One I’ve never seen before. It’s not locked. My hands are cold as I scroll through the texts. Her name is right there—Magui—bold and glowing like a warning.

“Miss you already.”

“Last night was everything.”

“Don’t forget your hoodie. I kept it.”

Photo attachments. Her in our kitchen. Her in his hoodie. The same one he wore when he left that day. The same one I folded and left out for him the night before. My breath catches. I can’t cry. Not right now. My body won’t let me. I set the phone down on the counter and stare at it, like it’s some kind of weapon. Because it is. Proof of betrayal. Of everything he swore wasn’t happening.

And suddenly, I’m not heartbroken.

I’m done.

—

‘You check in and out

Of my heart like a hotel

And she must be perfect, oh well

I hope you both go to hell’

I don’t rush.

There’s a strange calm that settles over me as I fold my clothes, one by one, placing them carefully into the suitcase I bought on our first trip together. I don’t slam drawers or throw things. I just… let go.

Piece by piece.

Everything that once felt like home now feels like evidence. The framed photo of us at Silverstone. The hoodie he gave me when I first stayed over. The mug with my initial that he always filled before his morning races.

I don’t take them.

He can have the memories.

I zip the suitcase slowly and glance around the apartment one last time. It looks the same. But everything’s changed.

On the counter, I leave the second phone. Unlocked. Open to the last message from Magui.

And next to it, I place a folded piece of paper.

‘i trusted you. i loved you. she must be perfect, oh well. i hope you both go to hell.’

—

‘Hey, this is a story I hate

But I told it to cope with the pain

I'm so sorry if you can relate’

yourusername

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri & 4,379,275 others.

yourusername : i got cheated on so alex got me this shirt, we went to ibiza to party and i released my new single reckless out now 🗣️

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username00 : alex is the best ever

username10 : this is so iconic. the shirt. the cig in ibiza. im in tears.

alexandrasaintmleux : i love love love you- the trip was so fun

liked by yn_ln

charles_leclerc : Glad you girls had fun! Hope you’re feeling better, yn:)

liked by yn_ln and alexandrasaintmleux

yn_ln : thanks for letting us borrow the jet Charlie;)

liked by charles_leclerc

kikagomes : so iconic FUCK HIM

liked yn_ln

oscarpiastri : Glad you’re healing, YN. He did you wrong.

liked by yn_ln

kikagomes : or fuck his teammate??

liked by yn_ln & oscarpiastri

username17 : OH MY GOD

carlossainz55 : glad to be your tour guide :)

liked by yn_ln

yn_ln : 10/10 would recommend

username000 : oh so she won everyone in the breakup

—

36 missed calls from Lando

115 messages from Lando

—

The Monaco streets are quiet this early—just the soft hum of waves below and the rhythmic slap of my sneakers against the pavement. The city’s waking up, but I’ve been up for hours. Running clears my head in ways sleep can’t lately. I round the corner near Port Hercule, pulling my hoodie tighter around me as the breeze cuts through. Just as I hit the incline by the marina, a familiar figure jogs past in the opposite direction—then slows down and doubles back.

“Yn?”

I pause, pulling out one earbud. “Oscar?”

He jogs up, slightly out of breath, curls damp with sweat, that easy smile tugging at his lips. “Didn’t know you were back.”

“Yeah,” I say, trying to steady both my breathing and the sudden flutter in my chest. “Just got in a few days ago.”

He nods, studying me for a beat. “You alright?”

I give a tired smile. “Getting there.”

He doesn’t push. Just offers a quiet, steady presence, the kind I didn’t know I needed until now.

“I was gonna grab a coffee and walk the market after this,” he says, shifting his weight slightly. “You feel like company?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Is this a pity invite?”

He grins. “Only if you say no. Then it’ll definitely be pity.”

I laugh—really laugh—for the first time in days. The air feels lighter somehow.

“Alright,” I say. “But I’m picking the playlist next time we run into each other.”

He falls in step beside me. “Deal.”

—

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, kikagomes, carlossainz55 & 2,278,245 others.

yourusername : never been happier <3

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username00 : new man??! bets??

username10 : better not see any “you moved on quick” comments because he moved on while they were still together

username5 : what if it’s Oscar???

kikagomes : you’re so cute omggg ily

liked by yn_ln

alexandrasaintmleux : my angel deserves to be happy 🦋

liked by yn_ln

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oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc & 1,238,255 others.

oscarpiastri : Been pretty productive lately.

—

username00 : mans is soft launching and is so nonchalant

carlossainz55 : Hell of a season for you so far amigo!

liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri : My good luck charm definitely helps

liked by carlossainz55

username10 : call me delulu but that’s def yn

hattiepiastri : who? what? when?

oscarpiastri : you could’ve just texted bro

hattiepiastri : you never answer your texts

nicolepiastri : or calls

—

The Monaco sun hits hard, even in the morning, but the buzz of the paddock is electric as always—cameras flashing, engines humming in the background, and whispers floating like static. This time, though, it’s not the usual chaos that turns heads.

It’s me.

Walking beside Oscar.

I’m wearing sunglasses, a soft black cap pulled low, and an oversized McLaren hoodie. Not just any hoodie—his hoodie. The number 81 stitched on the sleeve in that unmistakable papaya orange.

Oscar doesn’t say anything when the photographers start snapping. Just glances sideways at me with a small, knowing smile like he expected this.

I shrug. “It was the most comfortable one I had.”

“Sure it was,” he says, gently bumping my shoulder with his.

We pass a few crew members. They nod politely—but their eyes dip to my sleeve.

The whispers start instantly.

“That’s Piastri’s number, isn’t it?”

“Since when are they a thing?”

“I thought she was with—”

“Not anymore.”

Somewhere across the paddock, I catch a glimpse of Lando.

He’s mid-conversation but freezes for a split second when he sees us. His eyes drop to the hoodie, and I don’t miss the way his jaw tightens.

I don’t look away.

Oscar doesn’t either.

He simply says, “You ready?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

He grips tightly onto my hand as we walk through.

—

The podium celebration is chaos—in the best way. Champagne rains down like glitter, the crowd is deafening, and Oscar’s smile is wider than she’s ever seen it. There’s a light in his eyes that wasn’t there a few weeks ago. A quiet, humble pride. He climbs down from the stage, face flushed with adrenaline and joy, and immediately scans the crowd.

And then he sees me. Standing just behind the McLaren garage barrier, still wearing his hoodie, tears in my eyes and the biggest grin on my face.

He doesn’t hesitate.

He pushes through the crowd—crew members cheering, pats on the back, cameras chasing him—and walks straight to me.

“You did it,” i breathe, eyes shining.

“I told you I would,” he says softly, almost in disbelief.

And before either of us can talk ourselves out of it, he leans in and kisses me.

Not rushed. Not messy. Just sure.

The kind of kiss that says finally.

Around us, everything blurs. Reporters stop mid-sentence. Phones come up. Paparazzi lenses refocus. Someone gasps—someone else screams.

It’s official. Public. Real.

When we pull apart, Oscar rests his forehead against mine.

“I wanted to do that for a while.”

I laughed, still a little breathless. “Figured. You did win, after all.”

“Yeah,” he grins. “But I think you’re still my favorite part of today.”

—

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc & 10,279,255 others.

yourusername : finally got a man who can handle having a baddie

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charles_leclerc : the cutout picture has me rolling

liked by yn_ln

yn_ln : he told me to leave it out

oscarpiastri : i know how lucky i am to have pulled you;)

liked by yn_ln

oscarpiastri : my pretty girl

liked by yn_ln

alexandrasaintmleux: my loves!

liked by yn_ln and oscarpiastri

carlossainz55 : oh this is the good luck charm, huh?😉

liked by yn_ln and oscarpiastri

—

☘️🌿🌎☁️🍃🌱🐢

[dreamauri]

Could you please write something with Fernando when you’re Ayrton Sennas daughter. When you and Fernando first started dating and finally got married you decided to keep it a secret you wanted to enjoy you’re live together without the scrutiny from the outside world which would without a doubt would come if the public found out with you’re last name and you’re and Fernandos age difference but you couldn’t careless you’re pretty sure that some people will figure it out under them Lance which made it too his personal quest too get Fernando too talk about his personal live. The speculations only get worse when Alain congratulated Fernando when you gave birth to a boy not realizing that they get filmed. Much Love❤️

♪ — 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗤𝗨𝗜𝗘𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 fernando alonso x wife! senna! reader ( fluff ) fic summary . . . fernando likes to keep his life outside of an f1 paddock as private as possible, because it's not every day an Alonso gets married to Senna's younger daughter and has a boy with her.

( my master list | more of fernando alonso ) ( requests )

There’s a house in Oviedo that the press doesn’t know about.

It sits at the edge of town, near the woods, where the trees thicken and the sun spills gold through cracked shutters in the morning. It’s all quiet up here — the kind of quiet that can’t be bought with fame or fortune, only earned by sacrifice. This is where Fernando Alonso becomes just a man — not a champion, not a headline. Just a husband, a father.

Inside, you hum to yourself, barefoot on tile, a spoon of mashed avocado in one hand and a sleepy toddler in the other. Your boy — with his father’s eyes and your late father’s defiant brow — babbles nonsense through a gummy grin, fingers smearing green across the bib that says Papá’s Champion.

“Yeah? Is that so?” you laugh, brushing his hair back. He squeals, kicking, and your phone buzzes.

One message. Then three. Then ten.

The screen fills up like a warning light. Your fingers tremble as you scroll.

Did Prost really out you? Are you married to Alonso?? WTF, Y/N. YOU HAVE A BABY???

Your chest tightens. You barely hear the soft sound of your son dropping the spoon to the floor.

It happened.

You glance at the television across the room — volume low, a racing recap airing muted highlights — just in time to catch it: a blurry shot of Fernando laughing with Alain Prost, the older man’s voice still mic’d.

“Congratulations on the baby, Alonso. A son, no less. You and your wife must be over the moon,” Prost said with a soft smile. “I saw the photos. Your boy looks just like you.”

Your breath catches. The camera pans away too late. The footage is real. Raw. It aired.

You stare at it like it might change, like time could reverse.

“Fernando,” you whisper, grabbing your phone. “They know.”

It had started with stolen glances.

Portimão, five years ago. A WEC afterparty, golden wine and neon lights. You hadn’t meant to meet him — hadn’t planned to sit beside the legend your father once raced against, his legacy braided into yours through decades of track history and bloodline myth.

But he had leaned toward you with quiet curiosity, not flirtation, and asked, “Do you ever feel like your name isn’t yours?”

And you’d laughed. Not because it was funny, but because it was true.

You’d danced once that night. And then again the next time you met. He never asked for your number, only said, “I’ll find you.”

And he did.

Every city, every season. Barcelona, Tokyo, Monaco. Always quiet, always private. No photos. No red carpet.

He loved you in the in-betweens — the sleepy mornings, the grocery runs, the scar behind your knee from a childhood fall. When he proposed, it was in your mother’s garden, hands covered in dirt from planting tulips.

“Say yes,” he said, breathless. “And I swear I’ll protect you from all of it.”

You said yes.

Two years married now. One child. Zero tabloid mentions — until today.

Fernando returned to Formula 1 like a man possessed — sharp, hungry, invincible again. But even in the chaos, he stayed private. Not cold, never. Just... contained. Like he carried something precious beneath his skin.

To the world, he was the bachelor prince of motorsport. Too fast for commitment. Too busy to settle.

But his teammate, Lance Stroll, had always found that a little too tidy.

“You never bring anyone to race weekends,” Lance pointed out once, half-teasing, half-prodding. “Even Max has a plus-one sometimes.”

Fernando shrugged. “I like my solitude.”

“Mmm.” Lance sipped his coffee. “Or maybe Oviedo’s just that interesting.”

Fernando’s jaw twitched. A subtle thing. Most people wouldn’t have caught it. But Lance had grown up under scrutiny, too. He knew how to see what wasn’t said.

Later that night, he found a receipt in the simulator office. Oviedo. Children’s clothing boutique. Paid in cash.

Lance never mentioned it. But he started watching closer.

It was a Netflix crew, staying late to shoot B-roll for DTS.

They weren’t meant to catch anything useful. Just paddock shots, maybe a few driver interviews. Alain Prost had stopped by for a surprise visit, all smiles and nostalgia.

When he greeted Fernando, they embraced like old war generals. And Alain — always sharp, but not mic-conscious — leaned in with a grin.

“Congratulations on the baby, Alonso. A son, no less. You and your wife must be over the moon.” Prost said with a soft smile. “I saw the photos. Your boy looks just like you,”

“He has Yn’s eyes,” Fernando answered, so softly and quietly. “We named him Ayrton.”

The crew caught every word. Every frame.

It aired five days later — a 10-second snippet buried in a longer feature.

But fans are scavengers. They clipped it. Cropped it. Shared it with captions like:

FERNANDO HAS A BABY? FERNANDO HAS A WIFE?? WHO IS HIS WIFE???

Within hours, #WHOISTHEWIFE was trending in Spain and Brazil, the fandom going feral in real-time.

At first, no one knew. The identity of the mysterious mother was the crown jewel of F1 conspiracy culture. But then — someone made the connection. The baby’s name.

Ayrton.

And with that, the internet spiraled. Theories turned to threads. Threads turned to receipts.

“It has to be someone connected to Senna.” “What if... it’s his daughter?” “Wait. Didn’t she disappear from the public eye a few years ago?” “FERNANDO. ALONSO. MARRIED. SENNA’S. DAUGHTER??”

And just like that, you had been found. Not with a press release. Not with a soft reveal.

No.

They found you like hunters in the forest — following the breadcrumbs you never meant to drop.

You watched the storm bloom from your couch in Oviedo, one arm wrapped around your son as your whole life unraveled in pixels. Faces you'd never met were stitching together your love story like it was a puzzle box.

Your phone rang just after sunset.

“Mi vida,” Fernando said, his voice low. “I saw it. I’m so sorry—”

“I know,” you interrupted. “I know. It’s not your fault.”

You could hear him breathing hard, like he’d been running. Or pacing. “I never wanted you to be exposed like this.”

“It’s not your fault,” you said again, though your throat ached like you'd swallowed glass. “I always knew it wouldn’t stay secret forever.”

“I should’ve told them. About you. About our son. Maybe not everything, but... something.”

You closed your eyes, heart pounding under the quiet weight of it all. “What do we do now?”

A beat. Then his voice — quieter. Stronger. Like the eye of the storm.

“We stop hiding.”

Fernando wore his wedding ring for the first time on a race weekend in Italy.

Not on a chain. Not tucked into a drawer. But boldly, openly, on his left hand — gleaming in the sun as he tightened his gloves, as he signed autographs, as he stood for press photos.

There was no press conference. No prepared statement. He simply was — as if this was how it had always been.

And maybe it was. Maybe the truth had always lived in the way he smiled after races, the way he flew home the second the checkered flag waved, the way he rarely posted on Instagram but always checked yours.

The paddock noticed. The fans noticed.

And back in Oviedo, so did you — watching from your quiet living room as your son clapped and pointed at the screen, babbling “Papá” through a mouthful of banana.

You touched your own ring. Still warm.

They never fully stopped talking.

You were Ayrton Senna’s daughter. He was Fernando Alonso. Of course they speculated.

But over time, the noise softened.

Photos emerged — the three of you on a beach, grainy but sweet. The internet went insane, but it couldn’t change what you had.

Your home stayed your sanctuary. Your son learned to say fast before he learned to say car. The world kept spinning, faster and faster, but for once, you weren’t chasing it.

Fernando came home between races and kissed you like the world hadn’t fallen apart.

“You’re not mad?” he’d asked one night, after the baby had fallen asleep.

“No,” you whispered. “I’m relieved.”

Because after five years of shadows, after vows exchanged in quiet corners, you were finally seen.

And still safe.

And still in love.

[paddockletters]

secret's out | lewis hamilton smau

pairing: lewis hamilton x reader summary: lewis accidentally reveals his secret relationship with you in an instagram story, sparking fan frenzy. request: yes/ thank you so muchhhh! author’s note:hey anon, i really loved and enjoyed writing your idea! thanks for you request and hope you like it and and sorry it took me too long❤

lewishamilton

lewis' imessage

y/username

liked by lewishamilton, f1 and 2,467,095 others

yourusername: i guess our secret has been reveled bt none other than my husband...

comments...

georgerussell63: you guys definitely made that podium moment legendary. Wishing you both all the best! 💪🏼❤️

danielriccirado: You guys, first you hid your relationship and then your wedding and you didn't even invite us…. I'm hurt

user1: the fact that george is his teammate and he didn't even know that lewis was married 😭😭

user2: ok, we already knew that lewis was very private but this, THIS is another level

charles_leclerc: took you long enough, Lewis! Wishing you guys all the happiness! 🥳

user3: can we just appreciate the casual hard launch AND a kiss on the podium?? absolute power couple energy 💯

user4: he way Lewis looked at you during the podium 😍 He’s been in love the whole time!!

user5: he fact that Lewis called you his wife on his story and we all lost it 🤣🤣 Congrats on your not-so-secret love anymore!

y/username

liked by lewishamilton, f1 and 3,456,955 others

yourusername: this secret and announcement took us less time this last time

comments:

lewishamilton: Can’t wait to meet our little one. Over the moon with you, love

user6: BABY HAMILTON?! Oh my God, I’m crying. This is the cutest news ever!! 😭🍼

georgerussell63: Congratulations!! Can’t wait to meet the future world champ! 🍼🏆

landonorris: BABY HAMILTON??? Alright, I’m officially shook. Congrats, guys! The paddock just got a whole lot more fun! 😂❤️

user7: Lewis is gonna be a dad??? IM NOT OKAY!!! CONGRATS!! 🥺❤️

danielricciardo: A little racer on the way? YES! Can I be the fun uncle? 😎🍼

user8: A podium celebration baby??? 👀 Looks like we know how y’all celebrated that win! 🤭

user9: he timeline is connecting… podium celebration = baby Hamilton?? You sneaky lovebirds! 😂💛

charles_leclerc: Wow, huge congrats!! The grid’s about to get a little bigger 😄

user10: OMG this baby is about to be more stylish than all of us. Already living their best life before birth! 👶🏽✨

Lewis' podium

The energy in the paddock was electric as Lewis’s car crossed the finish line, securing him a spot on the podium for the first time in what felt like ages. I could barely contain my excitement as I watched from the sidelines, surrounded by a sea of cheering fans. The moment felt surreal, and my heart raced as Lewis climbed out of his car, a triumphant grin plastered across his face.

As he approached me, still wearing his helmet, I couldn't help but notice the way the crowd erupted in applause and shouts. The deafening cheers seemed to fade into the background as he got closer. “Honey, I’ve done it!!” he shouted, his voice slightly muffled but filled with uncontainable joy.

The adrenaline coursing through my veins made me feel invincible. I laughed, my heart swelling with pride as I reached up to remove his helmet. The instant his face came into view, I felt the warmth of his excitement radiate between us. The crowd’s energy shifted, anticipation crackling in the air as they sensed something special was about to happen.

Lewis leaned down, his eyes locked onto mine, and in that electric moment, he kissed me deeply, right there in front of everyone. The world around us disappeared; all I could feel was the warmth of his lips and the deafening roar of the crowd as they cheered for us.

From that day forward, we became the couple everyone adored. Fans began sharing videos and photos of the kiss, turning it into an iconic moment.

As the weeks passed, our relationship was the talk of the town. But it wasn't long before the news of our little family surprise came to light.

It was late, the dimmed lights in our living room casting soft shadows on the walls as I paced back and forth. The small plastic stick in my hand felt heavy, like it held the weight of the world. My heart pounded as I stared at the two pink lines that confirmed it—I was pregnant.

I had imagined this moment so many times, rehearsing how I would tell him, but now that it was real, my mind was a blur of emotions. Excitement, fear, happiness—everything at once.

Lewis had just gotten home from the gym, his usual easy smile lighting up his face as he stepped inside. He dropped his gym bag by the door, not yet noticing the turmoil in my eyes.

"Hey, love. Everything alright?" He asked, walking over to kiss me on the forehead, his hands automatically settling on my waist. But as he looked down at me, his brow furrowed in concern. He knew something was up.

I took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of his hands on me, grounding me. "Lewis, I… I need to tell you something."

His eyes softened instantly, the worry easing away. He pulled me closer, concern still flickering in his gaze but now mixed with curiosity.

"You’re scaring me a bit, babe. What’s going on?"

I bit my lip, the words almost stuck in my throat. My heart raced as I reached for his hand, slipping the positive pregnancy test into his palm. He looked down at it, confusion crossing his face for a brief second before realization hit him like a wave.

His eyes widened, flicking from the test to me and back to the test again. "Wait… are you serious?"

I nodded, tears springing to my eyes as a nervous laugh escaped me. "Yes, Lewis. We’re going to have a baby."

For a moment, it was like time stood still. He stared at me, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. Then, without warning, he scooped me up into his arms, spinning me around as a wide, joyful laugh escaped him.

"Are you kidding me?!" He was grinning from ear to ear, his excitement so contagious I couldn’t help but giggle, too. "We’re having a baby?!"

"Yeah… we’re having a baby." I nodded, my heart swelling as I saw how happy he was.

Lewis set me down gently, but his arms stayed wrapped around me, his forehead resting against mine.

"I can’t believe this," he whispered, his voice full of awe. "You’re going to be the most amazing mom, you know that?"

"And you’re going to be the best dad. Our little one’s going to be so lucky." I smiled, feeling the butterflies in my stomach.

He pulled back slightly, looking into my eyes, his expression soft and full of love.

"This is the best news I could’ve ever imagined. I love you so much."

"I love you too," I whispered back, my voice catching with emotion.

Lewis placed a hand on my stomach, still grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. "Our little secret," he said, his voice hushed, as if speaking too loud would make it any less real.

As the initial shock and excitement settled in, Lewis and I spent the rest of the evening curled up on the couch, talking about everything that lay ahead. The glow in his eyes hadn’t dimmed one bit; if anything, it had grown brighter with every moment.

"I still can’t believe it," he whispered, running his fingers softly over my stomach. "We’re actually having a baby."

I laughed, leaning my head against his shoulder. "It’s real, Lewis. You’re going to be a dad."

"You know, now that I think about it, when do you reckon we… you know, made this little one?" A playful smirk spread across his face.

I rolled my eyes at his cheeky tone. "Really? That’s what you’re thinking about now?"

"Well," he chuckled, nudging me slightly. "It’s not every day you find out you're going to be a dad. I’m just curious." He paused, tilting his head as if considering the options. "I mean, we’ve been busy lately…"

I snorted, shaking my head. "Busy is an understatement. We travel all the time."

Suddenly, realization dawned on him. His eyes widened, and I saw the gears turning in his head. "Wait… what about Monaco? You remember? After that podium…"

I froze for a second, my mind flashing back to that night. The celebration had been wild—Lewis had just gotten his first podium in a while, and we were on cloud nine. The champagne, the excitement, the adrenaline… and later that night, when we finally got back to our home…

I fele my cheeks flush. "Oh my God, Lewis."

He grinned like a Cheshire cat, clearly putting it all together. "That’s when it happened, didn’t it? The night of the podium celebration! No wonder the timing makes sense."

I covered my face with my hands, laughing as the memory came flooding back. "I can’t believe this! You’re right. That’s when it happened."

Lewis burst out laughing, clearly delighted by the connection. "No wonder I felt so invincible that weekend. Turns out, we had a little extra reason to celebrate!"

I playfully swatted his arm, though I couldn’t stop laughing either. "We’ll never live this down, you know. People are going to figure it out, and the teasing is going to be relentless."

He shrugged, still grinning like a fool. "Let them talk. They can tease us all they want. As long as I’ve got you and this little one, I don’t care."

I smiled, leaning into him, feeling the warmth of his words. "You’re such a sap sometimes, you know that?"

He chuckled, kissing the top of my head. "Only for you, love."

As we sat there, wrapped in each other and in the realization of what was to come, I couldn’t help but think about how crazy our journey had been so far. And now, with a baby on the way, it was about to get even crazier. But with Lewis by my side, I knew we could handle anything—even the endless teasing from our friends and fans.

"Just wait until the guys hear about this," he said with a wink, already anticipating the chaos to come.

I rolled my eyes again but smiled. "Oh, I’m sure they’ll never let us forget it."

[taeyongdoyoung]

lobos, we cannot stop hunting

summary: the full moon comes and you insist on staying with your best friend despite his valiant warnings to make you run away from him... pairing: werewolf!chan x reader genre: smut, fantasy, best friends to lovers warnings: *takes a deep breath* heat suppressants, hugging, werewolf transformation, kissing, making out, hair-pulling, eating out, begging, fingering, overstimulation, consent is established multiple times, slightly mean dom!chan but overall a sweetheart, praise+degradation, size kink (duh), unprotected sex on the floor, knotting, breeding kink, mating *exhales* author's note: happy halloween, baby stays!!! 🐺 make sure to get some yummy treats and always remember to say the magic words please and thank you 😈 but ESPECIALLY please as the king of the wolves taught us 😉🛐 word count: 1.8k

"It's a full moon tonight," your werewolf best friend Chan says.

"So?" you murmur, not even bothering to look up from your phone. Those F1 reels that keep popping up on your feed are so interesting! "You've got your pills and stuff? You'll be fine, same as always."

"I ran out, actually," Chan scratches the back of his head nervously.

You put down your phone. Sorry, sexy F1 guys, you can wait.

"Can't you get more?" you ask him.

"No, my doctor is out of town. It's his anniversary with his wife and his phone is turned off."

"Goddamnit, Chan, and you tell me that now?" you are immediately worried about your best friend.

Before he started these pills, Chan told you that the full moon was like really bad on him. As in, he was completely out of control and had these...urges that he had to take care of by himself. Basically, he was in a lot of pain. He's been using these pills for the last two years and they've been working miraculously. Chan was pretty much like a human during the usually dangerous for werewolves full moon. Thankfully, his doctor has been very helpful in giving him plenty of these amazing pills.

"I'm sorry...I thought I had one left but I must have miscalculated."

"Chan, I keep telling you to write these stuff down in advance," you shake your head. "What are you going to do tonight?"

"Suffer through it, I guess. I was just giving you a heads-up so you can get out of here...like right about now."

"What? No way I'm leaving you alone!" you argue passionately. "What if you die?"

"Uh, I'm pretty sure I won't. But you don't get it, without my pills, I could unwittingly put you in danger. My best chance to make sure I'm not a menace to civilized society is to lock the door and tie myself up or something."

"That sounds horrible!" you cry out, feeling intense sympathy for your best friend. "I don't want to leave you alone."

"You have to!" Chan insists. "I would hate myself if I hurt you."

"You won't!" you keep trying to persuade him. "I trust you more than anyone else in the universe."

Chan shakes his head, still hesitant.

"Please, you should leave before the moon comes up."

Little does he know it has already begun to rise...

"No, I'm not leaving you," you keep saying and wrap your arms around him.

Chan desperately tries to push you away. But it is too late.

As the moon's power grows, so does his. The only thing that prevents you from continuing to embrace him is his oncoming transformation. Your arms fall weakly to your side as you witness the impossible. His generally tender, adorable features quickly turn into sharp, wolflike and kind of intimidating ones, if you have to be honest. But this is your best friend, your Chan, you keep reminding yourself. And all the fear disappears from your body. As you kneel down next to him, you run your hand through his soft fur, trying to pet him.

He initially snarls and tries to scare you off but the more you insist, the more he relaxes under your gentle touch. God, you can't believe he was afraid he'd harm you. He's just...a big puppy.

You can't resist the temptation and you hug him again. He's so fluffy you're gonna die! And then, the unimaginable happens. He fucking purrs! Oh dear, if you had already been having a hard time trying to hide your feelings for your best friend, then seeing him like this would surely be your demise.

Then, unexpectedly, he shifts back to his human form, taking you by surprise. One, because that was faster than you'd expected. Two, because he's entirely naked, but doesn't seem perturbed by it. You try your best to look him in the eyes because uh...you're still not sure where this is going.

"Please, go, I don't think I can control myself any longer," Chan begs.

"Control what?" you're so confused. "I already witnessed you in your wolf form, you seem pretty chill."

"It's not my wolf form you should be scared of," Chan warns darkly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you don't get out of my sight in the next ten seconds, I'll fuck you until you pass out. And maybe even after that."

Oh? Wait...OH!!!

"Was that supposed to be a threat or a promise?" you quirk your eyebrows at him.

"Hold on, don't tell me you're actually excited by the prospect?" Chan wants to make sure.

"I mean...don't threaten me with a good time," you shrug calmly.

Chan kneels next to you, grabbing your hands tightly.

"I'm serious right now, don't play with me."

"What makes you think I'm not serious? I trust you, I want you, I lo- Uh, I like you a lot, whatever you do, that won't change," you mentally curse yourself for almost saying the big L-word. You hope he didn't catch that.

Judging from Chan's expression, he seems pretty satisfied with your statement.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you," he whispers and kisses you harshly, biting your lips and making a mess.

Your mouths are linked by an unending streak of saliva, but honestly you couldn't care less as he claims you, pushing his tongue deeper down your throat, gripping your hair with his fingers for better access. You are already melting. You spoke too soon. You are definitely not ready for this. But you wouldn't be able to make him stop, even if you wanted to.

"Last chance," Chan breaks the kiss to give you the opportunity to back out. To get out of here while you still can.

"Do your worst," you challenge him recklessly and he kisses you again, even harder than before if that is possible.

You know that your best friend, despite his shy and cute demeanour, is physically stronger and bigger than you, but seeing him like this, completely losing control is such a thrill you make sure to commit the picture to memory as vividly as you can.

Chan takes off your clothes in a hurry and just like a hungry wolf, attacks your pussy. And starts devouring it as if it's his last meal on Earth. He doesn't even make the effort to get to the couch, which is so close. He just takes you right there, on the floor. You shake uncontrollably, but he grips your thighs to stop you from moving.

"Please, please, please," you keep repeating even though you have no idea what you're asking for. For him to keep going? For him to stop? You don't know anymore.

"I like it when you beg," Chan smirks against your folds and dives back in, swimming in your water.

It doesn't take you long to burst, completely letting go for him.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," he praises you, not giving you time to recover and tracing circles around your entrance with his big fingers.

"No, you," you whisper weakly, trying to make him slow down by pushing his hand away. Needless to say, your efforts are in vain. "I'm s-sensitive."

Chan laughs cruelly.

"You can take it," his words are meant to be reassuring but they're not, as he sticks his finger inside of you.

It's just one but it's already so thick you are beginning to lose your mind.

"C-chan, p-please," you cry for him.

"What is it, sweetheart? You want another?" he mocks your lack of coherence and adds a second finger without waiting for your approval.

"N-no, I c-can't," you shake your head desperately.

"Yes, you can," Chan seems fully convinced, adding a third finger. "You're so tiny, gotta stretch you up real good to be able to take my cock next. Don't you want that, babygirl?"

"Yes, I want it," you are quick to agree and do your best to relax for his big fingers.

"Gonna let me take this sweet pussy with my wolf cock? Claim you as mine? Give you my pups?" he asks gently, his unrestrained actions in complete contrast with his sweet words.

"Yes, yes! Gonna let you breed me like the stupid bitch I am," you answer, degrading yourself in the process.

"That's what I like to hear, darling," Chan praises you and makes you come again on his fingers.

You are almost about to pass out. But somehow you manage to hold on for the next part. You want to feel it. Every second of it.

"Are you sure?" he asks once again, melting your heart.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life," you reaffirm your belief in him.

Chan doesn't wait for a second offer and slides his cock inside of you. Fucking hell, if you thought his fingers were pretty huge, his manhood is on a whole different level. You try to adjust to his monstrous size and focus on his beautiful eyes instead. He's still your Chan, your sweet-

"Fuck, your pussy's so small, gonna rip you in half," Chan grunts loudly.

Okay, not so sweet after all.

"Please, don't. Or do, it's fine by me," you attempt to make a joke.

He laughs and kisses you again, going in deeper. You wrap your hands around his neck in a tremendous effort to ground you, help you remain conscious through it all.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Chan keeps talking meanly. "Want me to ruin that tiny pussy of yours?"

"Yes, yes, I want it all," you repeat mindlessly, not caring about the consequences anymore.

Then, as if by some miracle, you feel his cock growing even more while inside of you. Is that even possible? You thought it was just a myth.

Luckily, you're wetter than ever and your pussy easily swallows his knot.

"Gonna fuck you full of my cum, make you my mate, is that okay?" Chan wants to be sure.

"It's okay, Chan, I'll be your mate," you promise, not even sure what that means. But whatever it is, you're fine with it, as long as it's with Chan...

Then, he releases his wolf seed inside of your pussy, making you feel so full, so warm, so complete.

"Take it, baby, I know you can," he reassures you and you do your best to accept his overflowing victory.

It is a total mystery how you still haven't passed out. But you're grateful for it. You'd like to treasure this moment forever.

"I don't think I'll be able to let go of you anytime soon," Chan chuckles softly, still inside of you.

"That's alright, I think I can get used to this," you respond happily, kissing him again.

"Great. 'Cause I don't plan to ever stop hunting you, my sweet little prey," Chan vows.

"I am but a willing victim to whatever it is the full moon did to you," you smile contentedly.

"And if it's not just the full moon?" Chan asks, biting your earlobe playfully with his sharp teeth. "What if I want to have my way with you every night?"

"Who needs sleep anyways?"

The End

[f1fantasys]

No, because I absolutely love your writing. You write smut so good. So I was think could you write something with Lando where he's reader's sugar daddy and they fuck alot but Lando is down bad for her. (No lando with toher girls, though) With a happy ending, my queen. 🧎‍♀️

Thank you anon, I'm so glad you like my writing! And i hope you enjoy this. Remember, requests are always open.

Whats yours is mine, whats mine is yours

Warnings: heavy smut, swearing, p in v sex, unprotected sex, blowjobs, oral f receiving, fingering, anal.

Lando Norris.

The hot fuckboy you met last year at the Monaco race where you were one of the grid girls. The minute your eyes met before the race started, you knew how the night would end.

It was sweeter because Lando had won the race. He quickly found you as his media duties ended, pulling you into his drivers' room. No words were spoken at first, just intense gazes, both knowing what the other wanted.

What was supposed to be just a one time fuck had turned into 3, 7 and now 12 months of fucking.

You both weren't in the right space for a relationship, so never even mentioned such. You were just finishing uni, starting an internship in Monaco, still trying to make grounds meet, while Lando was in a different city every week, so it made no sense.

You were fine with what you thought was just a one night stand, but you couldn't see yourself fitting into Lando's lavish lifestyle. He tried many times to assure you that he would take care of all your needs, even help you while setting your life up in Monaco. It wasn't until the third time you saw each other that Lando and you made a pact - friends with benefits, though he would continue to help you.

To be honest, you weren't expecting much from him. The sex was incredible, and you'd take it anytime. But he often showered you with lush gifts and expensive items, dropping money into your account without thinking. Normally you'd be opposed to accepting such from people, but the man was an f1 driver, and you were having fun, so you allowed yourself to indulge in everything he had to offer.

You'd text or call here and there whenever he was away, and he'd invited you to a few races as well, so you could use each other as you pleased.

One thing you wouldn't admit to anyone, was how you were falling more and more for Lando each time you saw him recently. You didn't allow your thought or feelings to consume you because you knew he was probably fucking every other girl everywhere he traveled, not so much as even thinking of you.

What you didn't know though was how deep in Lando himself was. The minute he layed eyes on you, he knew he was done for. You were beautiful, had long, lush hair, skin so smooth he always kissed every corner of it, and curves so sexy he'd get hard just thinking of you. He wasn't generous to you because he pity-ed you - no. You deserved everything single beautiful thing on this planet, and he made it his mission to give it all to you. He'd give you the moon if he could. You also didn't know that he hasn't slept with anyone since your first night together. He'd tried, but no one was a good as you, and he found himself comparing them all to you - so before it would get as far as penetrative sex, he would already be walking out or pushing the girl through his door.

Lando wouldn't dare make his feeling known because it would be unfair to expect you to accept his job and his traveling. One year on and you were doing well for yourself - working a full time job, and growing with each step you take. He didn't want to take all of that away from you just for him.

Lando had texted you earlier that he was on the way home from Nice, telling you to go wait for him in his apartment.

While you were waiting for him in his room, you wondered if he'd bring other girls here on the nights you didn't spend together. Would he fuck them senseless as he did you, devour their pussy's like he was a starved man, and moan their name when he came as he did yours?

Your thoughts were interrupted when Lando suddenly walked through the bedroom door. You didn't realize how lost in thought you were that you missed hearing the front door open.

''Hey, you good?'' he asked, seeing your face contorted with confusion. ''Huh? Uh, yeah, sorry, thinking about work'' you lied.

You sat on your knees as he walked up to you and cupped your face, leaning down to lock his lips with yours in a feverish kiss.

His actions had you moaning already, which allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth as he slowly started removing your clothes.

Once you were left in just your panties he pulled back and stripped his own clothes.

You watching in anticipation as he finally took off his boxers, revealing his thick girth, swollen and standing tall.

He smirked, ''Like what you see?'' he asked. You licked your lips, ''So much'' you said, wasting no time in taking him into your hands and pumping him a few times.

It had been a while since you had seen each other so to finally feel your hands on the place he craved you the most, he was twitching uncontrollably in your hands.

''Someones' needy'' you chuckled as your thumb spread the pre-cum all over his tip, watching as his core muscles flexed with every movement.

Lando's breath increased and he couldn't take just your hands anymore. ''Fuck y/n, please'' he begged.

Normally you'd liked to have teased him a bit more, hear him beg a bit more, but honestly, you were just as desperate for him.

You finally leaned forward and took his tip into your mouth, sucking on it harshly as Lando held your head in his hands, guiding your movements.

He slid in as much as you could take, hitting the back of your throat which had you gagging around him.

''So pretty for me, taking me so well'' he whispered as he began to move, fucking himself into your pace at a raw pace.

You held onto his thighs tightly as Lando took full control, using you how he wanted because he knew how much it turned you on.

You already felt your core dripping wet, clenching achingly around nothing, so you crossed your legs and squeezed your thighs together.

The sounds you were making right now were borderline pornographic - Lando was throwing out moans and swear words like crazy, you were moaning and groaning at his relentless movements in and out of your mouth, and then there were the wet, slick and sloshy noises of his dick sliding through your spit which was now running out your mouth and messing your chin.

''Fuck baby, not gonna last long now, where do you want me?'' he asked, as always. When you didn't respond, he knew he was to finish in your mouth.

So he did - Lando's dick was throbbing uncontrollably as he came violently, shooting ropes of warm cum down your throat as his hold on your head tightened. ''Shit, how do you do that, fuck, yes'' he moaned.

''Hmm'' you hummed at the taste of him, slowly working him through his high as he slowly softened second by second.

You pulled off with a pop, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, breath heavy and lips swollen as you looked at Lando, who's eyes were still shut, his own breathing quick. ''Missed that so much'' he said, genuinely smiling down at you, releasing his tight hold of your head.

He now picked you up and off the bed, headed into the bathroom and placed you on the counter.

You hissed at the coldness as wrapped your legs around him and pulled him closer, kissing him with a sense of urgency and desperation, this time sliding your own tongue into his mouth and pulling at his hair.

Lando lowered his lips to your neck, sucking and biting at your sweet spot as you bit on your lower lip, trying to keep your body from trembling since he had barely touched you yet.

''Hmmm Lando, please'' you begged, not sure what for, though quickly releasing a breath when his mouth landed on your left nipple, tugging and pulling at it, showing it no mercy.

Your nails dug deep into his biceps when he rolled your other nipple between his fingers harshly.

When he pulled back to spread your legs open, your breath hitched at seeing a string of spit still connecting his mouth to your nipple, and he smirked too when he noticed it. It might have been a small thing, but it was so hot, and you couldn't help but pull him closer and kiss him again. You fought each other, teeth clashing and biting one another until he finally pushed you back to lean against the mirror.

''Need to taste you'' he mumbled, spreading your legs open again and licking his lips when he saw your glistening core, dripping down your thighs.

You latched your hands onto Lando's hair as he leaned down and licked your juices that had leaked out of your pussy, letting his mouth travel further to place you were eager for him to devour.

As he teased you, taking his time to get there, Lando noticed how your lips were twitching, clenching around nothing, begging for attention. He smirked again, ''I'm home baby, I'm gonna take care of you''

You tried not to think too deep at his words, he probably said that just because of how turned on he was, but something was telling you he meant something deeper, more meaningful.

Though your thoughts were cut off when he finally let his tongue run through your slick folds, slurping up your sticky juices before he found your clit and sucked on it roughly.

''Fuck me Lando'' you said as your legs were starting to close around his head but he stopped your movements by placing his strong hands on them, holding them down and in place.

''Oh I'm gonna fuck you, don't worry'' he said, spit and your wetness already making a mess on his face.

Lando suddenly thrust two fingers through your entrance causing your back to arch from the mirror, gasping for hair as he was already curling them at the right spongy spots, while his tongue still slaughtered your clit.

''Hmmm fuck, not gonna last long Lan'' you managed through your fuzzy brain, pulling at Lando's hair harder than before.

He sped up his movements, edging you on and within minutes you were a shuddering mess above him, releasing your cum straight into his mouth as he moaned at the taste of you, warm and salty.

''Shit Lando'' you said through gritted teeth and he slowed his fingers, eventually pulling them out and licking them clean, eyes darker than usual staring into yours.

It was what he did next though that had you already wet for more. He leaned forward and let your cum drip from his mouth into yours, then kissing you harshly as he lifted your ass off the counter and carried you back to his bedroom.

As he placed you back on the bed, hovering above you, you gave him access to your neck so you could try and catch your breath, get ready for what was to come next.

Your hands roamed his body, memorizing every outline of his muscles, before settling on his girth and sliding it through your folds a few times, lubing it up.

''Gonna be my whore and let me fill you up?'' he whispered, the nickname nothing new for you.

''Please, i need you'' you whined, getting impatient.

''Not gonna be able to walk tomorrow, yeah?''

''Give it to me'' you said, smiling eagerly.

And he did.

Lando slammed into your pussy with a force that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He stayed still for a moment, allowing your body to accept the intrusion, until you nodded your head so he could start moving.

Lando pulled out completely before ramming into you again and again, showing you no mercy, the both of you moaning and on the edge of a high so delicious.

''So fucking tight, taking my big dick so well baby'' he murmured, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth, biting it through his teeth and sending waves of pain and pleasure through your body.

''Lan, please, I'm close''

''I know angel, you can let it out'' he said, because he was trying to hard not to let himself cum before you, though he was shamelessly ready to do so the minute he started fucking you.

''Cum quickly so i can fill you up and fuck a baby into you'' he said, not thinking his words through. Both your eyes widened, but quickly got replaced when your body was suddenly shaking, your orgasm ripping through you violently.

When Lando felt your walls clench painfully around his dick, he went into overdrive, and before he could register what was happening, he was emptying his load into you, ropes of cum milking its way deep into you as it was his turn to be shaking above you.

''Fuck y/n, fuck'' he cooed, both your hearts racing, groaning at the intensity of the situation.

Lando let his weight fall on your body as you wrapped your arms around him tightly, letting him bury his head in your neck.

You shivered as you felt his hot breath fanning over your sweaty sides, the cool air of the night also causing goosebumps along the rest of yours and his body.

You stayed like that for a while, Lando softening still inside of you until he moved and pulled out, both of you hissing at the loss contact. He disappeared into the bathroom to get a towel to clean you up - he always did. Once that was done and you were dressed again you knew it was time to leave even though you didn't want to.

Lando, wearing just his boxers climbed into bed while you sat there awkwardly at the edge of his bed. You wished he'd want you to lie next to him, cuddling each other, but you quickly had to wipe that though out of your head.

''I guess..I'll see you around you said, grabbing your phone off his side table.

''Yeah, I'll call. In town for a bit'' he said, catching your hand and bringing to his lips for a quick kiss.

And with that you smiled and left.

You didn't hear from him for about a week, until the morning he was leaving for Monza.

''How quickly can you get to mine?'' was all he'd texted.

Before you could respond, he sent another one.

''Leaving for Monza in 45, come over for a quick 'un?''

''I'm on my way'' you replied.

He was standing in his foyer, waiting for you, and the minute you walked in he had you pressed against the shut door.

Lando wasted no time in bunching your work dress up and sliding your panties to the side, quickly thrusting two fingers into you as you cupped his face and kissed him roughly.

He bought your orgasm over you quickly, breath harsh on your neck as you trembled in his arms.

You both hadn't even said anything to each other, too lost in getting down to business.

Lando quickly unzipped his jeans and freed his hard cock from its constraints, pumped himself a few times before lining up at you entrance.

He held you by your hips against the door, pushing himself into you quickly, bottoming out, and this time gave you no chance to get used to him - instead he fucked into you hard and fast, the both of you moaning with each thrust as you looked at each other, lost in a wave of ecstasy.

''Lando, uh'' you moaned as you felt him deep within you, your walls clenching around him achingly.

''I know'' he said through breaths, bringing his thumb down to toy with your clit, which in turn sent you into another orgasmic bliss, your liquid gushing on to him like a tidal wave as your body was once again shaking in his arms.

''So good'' you managed to whisper as he increased his movements, chasing his high as he become clumsier and sloppier by the second.

Then he came hard and fast, filling you up with the warm sticky liquid as he chanted your name over and over, leaning down to kiss you, biting on you bottom lip as you both came down from you high.

This time there was no time to clean you up. He kissed you once more before rushing out, leaving you to clean yourself and lock up with the spare key you had, your heart clenching from wanting more.

Your phone buzzed, you saw he'd just put 3000 pounds into your account. That no more excited you though. Money and materialistic things were nothing compared to the life you wanted with all of him. But you still thanked him.

3 weeks later and you knew he was on summer break though he hasn't texted you. You convinced yourself he was probably still out of the country.

Another two weeks had passed with no contact. You missed him so much. You missed the sex, so much. Pleasuring yourself was not remotely close to how Lando made you feel.

Now a whole 5 weeks later and you were so tempted to message him, see where he was. You'd seen on social media that he had in fact been home during these weeks, but you held out because what if he didn't want to see you? What if he was done with you? You don't think you could handle the rejection if you heard the words from his mouth - so rather let it end without any words being spoken.

You'd just finished work and had stopped by a restaurant to get some takeout for dinner. While sitting and waiting for your order you heard his voice. You both looked at each other at the same time, his eyes widening when he saw you. He was with Martin Garrix, who rushed over to you and enveloped you in a big hug as Lando stood there awkwardly before he walked up to you. Martin left to go to the bathroom.

You tried to keep a neutral face, tried to keep the blush off your face. He looked so hot in his tank top and shorts, a necklace gracing his neck, and his lush curls which bounced off in different directions as he ran a hand through his hair.

''Hey'' he said, sliding a hand into his pocket.

You cleared your throat. ''Uh hey, wasn't sure you were back'' you said, pretending you hadn't known his every where-about for the summer.

''Yeah, just been busy'' he said.

It had never been this awkward before, the both of you just staring at each other, not knowing what to say, but a teasy blush on both your cheeks.

Not 10 minutes later and you were riding him in his Mclaren. If someone asked you how you ended up like this, you wouldn't know the answer. All you knew what how good it felt to finally be fucking him again. You were sat on top of him, dress bunched up to your waist, and his shorts half way down his legs as you rode him, hard and fast.

Lando's mouth were stuck on your boobs, showing your nipples no mercy, while you hands ran through his hair multiple times, pulling and tugging at it.

Luckily he was parked in a secluded area, but surely the people walking by could hear the two of you. But you didn't care. Your moans you obscene, while his just sounded sexy as hell, praising you through gritted teeth at how good you were for him, how he missed his slut.

You came at the same time, shuddering and shaking in each others arms as you rode out your highs, Lando finally cupping your face and kissing you like his life depended on it, like he was savoring the moment.

As you stopped moving, you allowed your body to slump forward onto him, trying to catch your breath as he lazily played with your hair.

''Sorry I didn't call sooner'' he said, tucking your hair behind your ears and kissing you gently.

''It's ok. Just don't wait this long. I've needed you, Lando''

''Oh, i can drop you some money now'' he said, moving to get his phone straight away.

It took you a minute to realize what was happening until your brain caught up.

''What?'- No, no, Lando that's now what i meant'' you said quickly.

''No?'' he asked.

You took a breath. ''I mean I've missed you. As in you! Physically'' you said, sending him a wink.

He couldn't keep his own smile in. ''Yeah?''

''Uh huh'' you said, kissing him again.

''Well then, I promise. I'll always tell you when I'm back in town''

''Thank you'' you said, pecking him once more before lifting yourself off him and putting your pantie right again.

Since then, Lando had actually texted you multiple times. He'd even called you. You'd had phone sex too. And as much as you were enjoying all this, you still wished for more.

The next time you saw he showed up unannounced at your house. You'd just been having a lazy Saturday night in, wearing just a robe and nothing else when your door bell rang.

You looked through the peephole and couldn't have opened the door faster. There stood a breathless Lando, eyes dark and intense.

You pulled him in. ''Hey, you okay? Why're you so out of breath? you asked, concern etched on your face.

''Because i ran here. Was forced into going on a date, was halfway through when i realized something''

Your heart clenched at hearing him say he was on a date, but you stood strong.

''What's that?'' you barely whispered.

''I want you. Only you. All of you'' he said, cupping your face, waiting for you to answer him.

''I-What?''

''Dammit it y/n. I want you, all of you. I've wanted all of you since the first day we met''

''Lando'' you said raising your hands to rest on top of his, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.

''I like you, so much, and I want to do life with you'' he whispered, his breath hot on your face.

''Fuck. I like you too Lando, too much. I-I-''

But before you could finish your sentence he crashed his lips to yours. Urgent and feverish, literally taking your breath away as you pulled him closer and moaned into his mouth.

He picked you up by your ass and carried you to your room, dropping you on the bed before hovering above you.

''You're mine now y/n, for as long as you'll have me'' he said, slowly stripping your robe off, eyes darkening even more when he saw you were wearing nothing underneath.

''Fucking hell'' he mumbled, his large calloused hands squeezes your boobs as his eyes stayed glue to them.

''Lando, more'' you begged, beginning to remove his belt and strip his own clothes off.

''Relax baby, we've got all the time'' he said, smirking at you.

Once he was finally left in just his boxers, you slid your hands past them, taking his thick dick and pumping him as his lips found yours again.

''Gonna make you feel good, yeah?'' he asked.

''Fuck, please. Fuck me''

Lando's fingers slid down and rolled through your folds harshly, pinching your clit, before letting 3 fingers enter you at once.

''Getting you ready for me, open for me'' he said, voice thick with his British accent.

He roughly thrust his fingers in and out of you, while his other hand rolled your left nipple between his fingers.

When he was done with your boobs, he moved his whole body down as his fingers still fucked your cunt, and this time he added his mouth into action.

Violently lapping and sucking at your core as if he was starved, while all you could do was let out a series of filthy moans, pulling at his hair.

''That's it baby, go on'' he said, praising you for how good you were doing for him.

Within minutes you were quivering, your orgasm washing through you as you came all over his face and fingers, not slowing his movements until you eventually came a second time, all but screaming his name.

''Lan'' you said between breaths, trying your best to let your brain catch up to what was happening. ''Fuck, so good. I-I, taste you. Need to taste you'' you said, already trying to get out his grip and onto your knees, through he stopped you.

''Later, need to fuck you first'' he said, sternly.

You didn't argue because you were also desperate to feel him fill you up.

Lando shred his boxers off and ran his cock through your folds a few times.

The action had you pussy trying to clench desperately around something.

Just as he was about to push in, he stopped, looking at you with a smirk.

''Wanna try something new?'' he asked.

''Uh huh'' you were quick to reply.

He got shy for literally a second, then his eyes went dark again.

''Anal?'' he asked softly.

Your breath hitched. It had been something you'd talked about but never got round to actually doing.

When he saw you got quiet, he quickly added ''Shit, we don't have to,'' trying to resume pushing his dick into you.

''What-fuck. Yes, I want to'' you said breathlessly.

''Yeah?

''Please'' you said, already successfully shimmying out of his grasp and turning your body around, taking a hold of the headboard as you stuck your ass in the air.

Lando's hands gently ran all over your ass, squeezing your cheeks and giving you a few gentle slaps, just fun, nothing hectic.

''Gonna stretch you out a bit?''

''Ýeah. Do whatever, I'm yours'' you said, biting your lip in anticipation.

Lando leaned down and gave you a few fluttering kisses and his index finger toyed at your entrance for a bit.

He pulled away and reached it to your mouth, letting you suck it and coat it in your spit before he returned it to your hole and gently started to push in.

You held your breath, shut your eyes, not knowing what to expect.

''That's it baby, tell me if you want me to stop'' he said, pushing in some more.

''No, keep going''

Just as he was about half way in, he quickly popped his middle finger into his own mouth before letting that too slide through and into you.

Feeling both of his rough fingers had you moaning, gasping for air, as Lando started to thrust them in and out of you now.

''You're doing so good. How does it feel?''

''Weird. But so good. Fuck Lando'' you said through heavy breaths.

Not 5 minutes later and your cum was gushing out of you with no warning, your body shaking as you held on tight on to the headboard.

Lando leaned down and licked up everything he good, moaning at how good you tasted.

''Think you're ready for me?'' he asked, unable to keep a smirk off his face.

''Always'' you said, turning around for a quick kiss, also leaning down to give Lando's dick a few quick sucks, leaving as much spit as you could, before settling into position again.

Lando lined himself up, holding onto your waist with one hand as he slowly pushed in.

All air had left your lungs as you held your breath. Feeling him slide through you was unexplainable.

The stretch was sore, so bloody sore, but at the same time, just the though of it being Lando who was filling you up turned you on so much that your brain shut the pain out and replaced it with pleasure.

Once he was fully in, Lando stayed still for a couple of moments, the both of you speechless at the feeling, lost in your own dirty thoughts, until you moved forwards and backwards again.

''Fuck Lando, move, please'' you begged.

''Huh? -Fuck, sorr- sorry. Feels so fucking good i just blanked out for a moment'' he said, voice low and raspy.

He started moving, thrusting in and out of you, while you found you voice again and let out multiple lewd moans.

''Fucking hell, you're so good. So tight. I-I-I''m so lucky'' Lando mumbled.

You felt another orgasm approaching hard and fast, your movements slowing so Lando had to take full control now.

''Uh Lando, gonna cum''

''Go on, let it out, that's it baby'' he said, edging you on.

You bit you lip again as you felt your release, washing through your body which felt like jelly as Lando held you up and adored your whole being, praising you to end.

He pulled out completely and handled your body so you were now laying on your back, legs being spread and pushed up by his strong hands before he was thrusting his dick into you again, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it as your nails dug deep into his back muscles, scratching at him, probably drawing blood.

''That's it baby. I know you have more in you'' he said, movements becoming faster and erratic.

You wrapped your legs around him as tight as you could, the new angle having him hit all the right spots in you as you nibbled on his ear.

Suddenly you were having another orgasm, shaking under him as he slowed his movements for a minute, riding you through the mix of pain and pleasure, and once you'd calmed down bit, he increased his pace again, eagerly hunting his own release now.

''Fuck Lando I can't. Too much'' you said, barely able to talk and keep your eyes open.

''One more baby, one more. Together, yeah?'' he said, knowing that although you were saying that, you probably didn't want him to stop.

''Hmm'' was all you could mumble out as Lando's movements were getting sloppy, his dick twitching against your walls, sending you into another orgasmic bliss, with him following you not long after.

You felt as he shot his cum deep within you, filling you up and painting your walls white and both your bodies were shuddering and shivering, fucked out to the core.

He let his weight fall on you, as he often did after amazing sex, and cuddled you as you held him as tight as you could.

The cool air on your sweaty skin had goosebumps raise on your skin again, your body quivering in his arms as he pulled back and locked lips with yours in a tender and loving kiss. Not rough and fast like most of the time.

''You're freezing, let's get you cleaned up'' he said, making his way to pull out of you.

The loss of contact had Lando groaning, and when you looked down at where you were joined moments ago, you stopped him from walking to the bathroom.

''I-Wait!'' you squealed, pulling him back to you.

''You good?'' he asked.

You didn't answer him though. Instead you leaned down and took his mighty girth into your mouth, letting your tongue swirl all around him, swallowing al the juices that coated his dick, before letting him free again.

''Now I'm good'' you said, smirking at him.

'''Fucking dirty menace'' he said, leaning down to give you one final rough kiss before disappearing into the bathroom.

Once you were all cleaned up and wearing one of Lando's hoodies that he'd left in your house last time, you both curled into bed, your legs thrown over his as your head rested on his chest.

You were talking about everything and nothing.

At one point, Lando looked down at you, smirking.

''So does this mean I'm your boyfriend?'' he cheekily asked.

You couldn't help the blush that formed on your cheeks.

''Yes, my love. My boyfriend.''

''Well, I love you, my girlfriend''

You breath hitched. Hearing the words you've been wanting to hear the day you first met made your heart swell with butterflies.

You leaned on your elbow as you cupped his face. ''I love you too'' you said, before kissing him, pouring every bit of the love you felt for him into it.

He kissed you back with the same passion, and with that you dozed off, excited for what was to come, now that you were finally together.

[chanelnumbermine]

2024 f2 boys when someone else compliments you | f2 grid picks x gn!reader

since u liked the previous part so much, i decided to write a little more and added franquito! he has a special place in my heart after this season (mentally i’m still in imola sprint). i’m very open to learn about more drivers and add them to the list! have a nice read!

pairing(s): ollie bearman x gn!reader, kimi antonelli x gn!reader, zane maloney x gn!reader, paul aron x gn!reader, pepe marti x gn!reader, luke browning x gn!reader, franco colapinto x gn!reader;

warning(s): itty bitty possessive behaviour, mostly cuteness!!

ollie bearman | prema —> haas f1

squeezes your hand and smiled politely

"thank you. they really do light up every room."

he says dryly and tries to shrug off this weird feeling in his chest

becomes a little stiff and after a while he asks

��do random people compliment you like that often?”

you shrug and smirk, seeing he’s a little jealous

“they were right, you look stunning. i should say that more often”

andrea kimi antonelli | prema —> mercedes amg pertronas

he’s already a little flustered because you came over to see his family

you click with them instantly

"uh, thanks mom. i say it every day."

to him you’re the sweetest prettiest person ever and he sometimes forgets that other people can also see that

it’s just hard to remember about the whole world when he’s in your presence

you’re his and he’s fully yours, and he’ll spend the rest of the day clinging to you

he’s nott that good with words, but very good at making you feel loved

paul aron | hitech —> bwt alpine reserve driver

i bet it was one of your friends who complimented you

and paul? tries to outdo the other person with compliments

"you're not just radiant, darling, you look literally ethereal. you know, your eyes ere like the moon. so big and shiny."

thinks he's smooth

he's not

but he's adorable as hell, grinning like and idiot and spewing nonsense just to make you laugh

you'd have to kiss him to shut him up

“i was supposed to make you blush, not the other way around…”

zane maloney | rodin —> formula e

awkward as hell

could be even a little insecure

why would anyone dare compliment you? do they think they have a chance with you?

he tries not to show it, but is not good at it

"aww, are you pouting?" you teased him

he chuckled and scratched the back of his neck nervously

"what, me? you're seeing things"

please reassure him!! he’s the sweetest bunny

pepe marti | campos, red bull academy

"yeah, of course my baby looks beautiful tonight."

goes full on protective mode

could become sarcastic, maybe even passive-aggressive

"i knew this day would come. i have to fend off other admirers."

you laugh and poke his arm

"must be so hard having a beautiful partner, huh?"

huffs playfully and kisses your forehead

luke browning | hitech —> f2

he was joking around with his friends when one of them made an innocent cute comment about your looks

“i know, right? they make me look better just standing next to me”

tries to divert the attention from you

on the outside he seems quite normal, but inside he’s seething with jealousy

like, why would anyone feel the need to point out the obvious???

sneaks his arm around your waist

peppers your face with kisses when you have a little time alone

franco colapinto | mp —> williams racing

whatever the circumstances, he goes into full yapping mode

franco takes seizes every opportunity to brag about who he managed to pull

"right!! you see, mom, they bake the best cookies. one time, when we were in madrid, we ate those cinnamon buns i like so much and..."

he just wants everyone to know you're the best person he's ever had the privilege to meet

he wants to share all the best memories with his family! and has no filter

"no, sis, we weren’t drunk that much… oh, you’re totally right amor, we were, sorry”

the compliments are flowing from both sides, its very natural and franqui doesn’t get worked up at all

masterlist

[formulakracing]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･masterlist ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

hello everyone! •ᴗ•

below is my masterlist related to all things f1! as i continue to write, i will continue to add to the list.

the list will be divided by team, then separated individually by driver. any content that is mature will have a moon symbol that looks like this ☾ next to it.

happy reading! <3

✧˖ max verstappen¹˖✧

"keep 'em comin" -> best friend!reader x max

nothing else matters -> female!reader x max

"my hero" -> social worker!reader x max

"you taste sweeter" -> social worker!reader x max

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・・。. ゜❃

✧˖ daniel ricciardo³˖✧

just how things come together, they fall apart -> fem!driver!reader x danny

night changes -> wife!reader x danny

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・・。. ゜❃

✧˖ sebastian vettel⁵˖✧

"you belong here" -> gf reader! x aston martin!seb

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・・。. ゜❃

✧˖ kimi räikkönen⁷˖✧

"well that's too bad" -> dcc!reader x kimi

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・・。. ゜❃

✧˖ sergio "checo" pérez¹¹˖✧

cat & mouse -> fem!driver reader x checo ☾

seeking comfort -> reader x checo

release -> female!reader x checo

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・・。. ゜❃

✧˖ fernando alonso¹⁴˖✧

celebratory drinks -> reporter!reader x aston martin!nando

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・・。. ゜❃

✧˖ lewis hamilton⁴⁴˖✧

too fast -> assistant!reader x lewis

celebrity -> gf!reader x lewis

✧˖ oscar piastri⁸¹˖✧

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・・。. ゜❃

✧˖ toto wolff ˖✧

alkaline -> fem!driver reader x toto ☾

i. | ii. | iii. | iv. | v. | vi. | vii. | viii. | ix. | x. | xi. | xii. | xiii. | xiv. | xv. | xvi. | xvii. | xviii. | xix. | xx.

fanboy behavior

lover girl -> smau

a day in the life -> smau

the little moments -> smau

"the best weekend of my life" -> smau

golden girl & her star boys -> gg x the grid

the (not so subtle) art of a crush

setting it straight

"my favorite driver!"

"you better"

headlock -> g.g. + g.r.

i. |

"girls like u" -> female driver!reader x toto x max verstappen

i. | ii. | iii.

"just one dance" -> horner's daughter!reader x toto

night swim -> nanny!reader x toto ☾

el tango de roxanne -> figure skater!reader x toto

"tending to my love" -> gf!reader x toto

america's princess -> popstar!reader x toto

time off -> reader x sick!toto

sunbathing -> female!reader x dbf!toto ☾

jealousy, jealousy -> female!reader x dbf!toto

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・・。. ゜❃

the grid

words of endearment

[namelessmoons-corner]

Syringa vulgaris - First Love ☆ OP81

From the series petals unfolding, forever anew

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Mirabelle Desmarais (OC) Summary: It’s 2021. Mirabelle is a florist. Oscar is in need of a Mother’s Day bouquet. The rest is history Wordcount: 4,7k a/n: They’re both disasters. Oscar more than Mirabelle tho

It's finally here! It's past midnight where i am, but i'm so happy with this! Enjoy! (If you want to read the other installment in this series, here it is)

Taken from Youtube (02/05/2021)

[The viewer can see a woman dressed in a long khaki skirt and a cream shirt with ruffles, the outfit adorned with a brown apron. She is watering different plants around a room, the video being sped up as she changes the water of vases bigger than her torso. The video cuts to a short scene of the front of a flower shop with a loopy cursive added one top. The words read “Une semaine en tant que fleuriste et 1er mai” (“A week as a florist and May 1st”)]

Weekly vlog S1e17: A week as a florist and May 1st

@/Mirabelle Desmarais 10,56 k subscribers 2k likes

5,2 k views 5 hours ago 17th vlog of the year! And we still haven’t missed one :) …Show more

16 comments

@/Milliesplace i love the way this is edited :) keep up the good work Mirabelle @/deadinsid3 i’d love to be in Monaco to buy flowers from you @/tiredhighsoolstudent how old are you? i feel like you’re so successful already and i’m lacking @/danielisthebest I’m in Monaco next week! I hope i can see you 

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Monaco (03/05/2021)

The weeks leading up to mother’s day are always busy for flower shops, and Mirabelle knows this well. This year is her first year having her own shop, but she’s been employed in a flower shop for about two years after getting her vocational baccalauréat in horticulture. 

She knows how to operate a flower shop; running her business into the ground before it can fly is not in her ten-year plan. That’s why this year, for the first Mother’s Day of her shop, she’s going to do great. Or at least that’s the mantra she’s been repeating every hour for a few days.

She’s been living in Monaco for the past two years, so she can’t call herself a local yet. She has her own flat, and she pays her own bills (to the French government, to her great disappointment; what she wouldn’t do to get tax exemptions like most people living in Monaco…).

Her flat is situated near the French border, but you could say that most streets in Monaco are near the border, unless you want to live in the Mediterranean Sea. And while Mirabelle thinks fish are cute in their own way, she doesn’t think that she’d like to spend the rest of her days underwater, eating algae. And Mirabelle has always preferred Barbie: Fairytopia to Barbie in a Mermaid Tale.

The view from her flat is amazing, because she lives on the highest floor of the building. Not a penthouse, but a flat under the roof, she says. She managed to get it for a reduced price because of the state it was in when she bought it. Still, what she owes the bank haunts her in her dreams. One more reason for Mother’s Day this year to be a success. Monaco is home to a lot of foreigners (as she is); and so deals for the celebration can run during more than a week. For Monaco-natives, or Monégasques, as they like to insist upon, Mother’s day is May 30th this year. For French people like Mirabelle and her mother; Marie, it will be on the same day. But she knows that there are a lot of Italians coming to Monaco during the month of May, following the Grand Prix, and so the day of the celebration will be on May 9th. Which is less than a week away.

Today is Monday. This means that she has six days left to prepare for the rush and to write down orders. And rich people always want exotic flowers or flowers that don’t bloom during the spring for Mother’s Day. Which, fair. If she had that kind of money, Mirabelle would decorate all year around with lilac or hibiscus. Unfortunately, she cannot, and her flat is already filled to the brim with potted plants anyways. Maybe she could try and grow wisteria. 

Lilac, or Syringa vulgaris, blooms during spring, but it’s not a flower commonly used in bouquets and even less for Mother’s Day. Depending on the colour of the lilac, the flowers can mean the first love of someone (lilac colour, the name of the shade coming directly from the flower), which could be used for this celebration, Mirabelle thinks, even if it would be a bit strange; or mourning a loved one for darker purples. Not really sought after for Mother’s Day.  

Mirabelle needs to get a stock of lilies this year. It’s a flower often wanted for bouquets destined to mothers, because one of the meanings of lilies is motherhood. Still, lilies bloom during summer, so Mirabelle isn’t the happiest when dealing with people demanding she use lilies for bouquets in the middle of spring.

White roses are a staple too, and so she needs to contact her supplier to see if he has any news about her shipment. She has ordered more than a hundred roses for Friday, which would leave her the time to prep the flowers for the rush of Saturday night leading into Sunday.  Her fridge is already stocked to the brim with caffeinated drinks; keeping them cold in order for her to make it through the night. 

At least the city is still navigable (for now), the Grand Prix of Monaco taking place at the end of the month. This week is… Spain, if she remembers correctly. While Mirabelle watches 1 occasionally, she’s not that informed. The only moments when she gets new information is when she goes to Cece’s flat to watch races when they are at a reasonable time. 

Cécé, from her first name Célia, has been Mirabelle's best friend since kindergarten, when a boy had decided to push Mirabelle to the ground, saying that carrot people needed to stay in the dirt where they belonged and Célia had pushed the boy right back, stomping on his hand for good measure. Cece has always been spirited. And when she was younger, Mirabelle indeed had carrot-like red hair. Now the colour has faded, settling into a comfortable strawberry blonde, still keeping her darker ginger highlights in the summertime. She still lives in Nice, their hometown and is studying business with a focus on luxury.

Startled out of her thoughts by a passing truck, Mirabelle shakes her head and looks at the shop front of her business. She likes the vibes, she thinks. She’d decorated everything with the help of Cece and Nathan before the grand opening a few weeks ago. Nathan, Cece’s fiancé, was great to have around to renovate an old building, the guy being quite tall and good with manual tasks. The only downside is his inability to stay still for more than two consecutive minutes and his clumsiness. 

From an external viewpoint, the shop looks like an antique store, with its forest green wooden front and the gold lettering above the door and the windows. Mirabelle did it herself, which she is really proud of. The gold works quite well against the green of the background, in her opinion. And the honeysuckle climbing at the side of the shop is great. She still needs to find a name for it. Maybe Cece would have an idea. 

Mirabelle takes out her phone and steps onto the street to take a picture of it, sending it to her best friend to ask for her opinion. The picture is great, now that she’s looking at it. It just needs some touch ups, and she’ll post it on her instagram page. She still needs to check the vlog she posted yesterday on Youtube. 

The idea of filming her life everyday and posting it as vlogs was her little sister’s idea. Amandine is currently in 9th grade, but because she’s in a boarding school in the north of France, she only has access to her phone for half an hour everyday to call their parents. Apparently, she also has access to her phone on weekends, because that’s when she calls Mirabelle. And so, to get updates on her sister’s life, Amandine had made her take a resolution for the new year: film her life a bit everyday and post it on Sunday afternoon, when she still has time to use her phone to watch the Youtube video. Well, at first Amandine had wanted Mirabelle to use Tiktok, but Mirabelle still hasn’t used the app, and even less downloaded it.

And so Youtube it was. At first, she tried talking face to the camera, but honestly, that took so much time that she discarded it after the third week of filming. Between the script (Mirabelle is not confident enough in her skills in front of a lens yet to talk without any notes), the filming and the editing, she didn’t have the time to actually live her everyday life. And so now, her camera is on when she goes about her business, during her trips between home and the shop…

Mirabelle will admit, filming oneself does boost one’s confidence, because now she’s quit her previous job and opened her own flower shop, all of this in less than five months. Which, in her opinion, is so strange that sometimes she wonders if she were a saint in her previous life. Or maybe the bad karma will only appear in a few years, when she’s resting on her laurels. 

If it comes in the future, let it come. Nothing is set in stone, and she’ll enjoy what she has for now, even as she watches the people around her like a plant yearning for the sun, reaching and reaching and never embracing the golden star.

Taken from Instagram (03/05/2021)

@/mirabelledesmarais

[Picture of the front of a flower shop. The walls are painted green, with a bay window on the right and a normal one on the left. A honeysuckle is creeping up on the left of the shop. Above the door, gold letters can be seen writing ‘Desmarais - Fleuriste’ (Desmarais - Florist)]

🖤 💬  729 Likes

mirabelledesmarais Waiting to create your bouquets for Mother’s Day 💐

Comments

@/lilyofthevalley: fan n°1 je l’annonce j’étais là dès la semaine 1 (number 1 fan i’m calling it i was there during the first week)

@/fleurtoujours: 🌷🌺🌹

@/celia_guillaume: i still need to find a name for that plant! ↬ @/mirabelledesmarais: i’m counting on you soldier

@/rosedesvents: c’est pas dans 3 semaines la fête des mères?? (isn’t mother’s day in 3 weeks??) ↬ @/mirabelledesmarais: Pour la France et Monaco, la fête des mères est bien le 30 mai! Mais j’ai beaucoup de clients étrangers pour qui la fête des mères est ce dimanche 9 :) (For France and Monaco; Mother’s Day is indeed on May 30th! But I have a lot of foreign clients, for whom Mother’s Day is this Sunday the 9th!:))

Monaco (09/05/2021)

Oscar was bored. Monaco was good and nice, but after a week with his parents and his three younger sisters, he was ready to throw himself over the hotel’s balcony into the water. Fortunately, this was his last day of vacation, and he would go back to the sim room and his training. He still had no idea why his mum wanted to go to Monaco, of all places, to spend his vacation week. She was right that it made more sense to visit the city state before or after the racing season, but a mere ten days before was pushing it, in his opinion. 

At least they went to visit some cities in the south of France. Nice is quite pretty, with its old town and warm colours, and Menton was nice, even if they missed what is apparently a whole two weeks of celebrating lemons.

What an idea. But to each their own, his mum would say. And she’s right, he shouldn’t judge. But still. If he can trust the internet, they have whole floats made of lemons. He won’t ever understand France, he thinks. 

It’s morning now, and as usual, he opens up his phone to check if he received any message or emails during the night. Because Australia is on the other side of the world, some of the conversations he has with friends wait until one of the participants is awake to continue. Just spams, and a reminder coming from his calendar app. Fuck. It’s Mother’s Day. So that’s why his mum is still not up. 

He gets out of the bathroom in a hurry, puts his clothes on, checks that he has his wallet and the key to the hotel room with him and goes out the door. How could he forget? Every year, he usually puts a reminder two weeks before the date so he has the time to prepare something nice for his mum. This year, he bought her a bracelet, but now that he thinks about it, it’s been forgotten amidst the preparations for the trip to Monaco. He didn’t bring it on the trip. This means that he’s going to have to wait for them to go back home, all the way in Australia, to give her the bracelet. What to do now?

There must be a florist in the area. 

As he waits for the elevator and then goes inside, he’s opening Maps and writing florist in the search bar. Apparently, there are two florists near the hotel, one closer than the other. That's where he’ll go, he decides. He doesn’t have any time to lose, especially if he wants to buy breakfast for his mum before she wakes up. 

His run to the florist is short, fortunately. Monaco is hell to run through, with its elevation. He mustn’t be the only one waiting for flowers, as there’s a queue of at least ten people. He checks his phone regularly as he waits, to see if his father has sent him any message. He doesn’t want to risk sending the first message, afraid that the sound of the notification would wake up his mum.

Strangely, the queue goes quite fast and once they say what they’re here for, the florist just goes through a back door and comes back with a bouquet; he must be really efficient at putting up bouquets together.

In front of the florist, a balding man in his forties, he tries to explain his predicament in french before giving up and explaining in english. The man frowns.

“Young man, this is a high-end flower shop. We only take orders at least a week before for our client's utmost satisfaction.” The florist leaves Oscar alone for a minute as he goes to bring a bouquet to the woman behind him in the queue. He continues, “You can still order flowers for next week, but I'm sorry to say that you won’t be able to get a bouquet today.You could still go to another shop, I think a lovely girl has opened up hers just 10 minutes away from here!”

With this said, Oscar thanks the florist in a hurry and runs to the location he’s been given. There’s a climbing plant growing on the side of the dark green storefront, and the inside of the flower, which he can see through the large windows, is luminous. Above the shop is written “Desmarais - Fleuriste” in gold letters. The flower has a fragrant smell, sweet but not too overpowering. It’s not jasmine, Oscar thinks. He would have recognised it. It’s soft, and he can’t help but sop for a few seconds and close his eyes to try and imprint the scent into his brain. He gets closer to the door, ready to enter the flower shop, and a man leaves, loudly declaring “Merci!” (Thank you!) over his shoulder to the person behind the counter.

There’s a girl. 

She’s a girl. 

Oscar’s seen girls before, of course. His mum is a girl. And he has three younger sisters. He knows plenty of girls. He's just… He doesn’t know this girl. Of course he doesn’t know this girl. She’s probably from here, and he has not been in Monaco a lot. 

She’s pretty. Not the kind of pretty you turn around in the street for or the kind you see on TV. Oscar would turn around and stop in the street, he thinks. But this girl, she’s the kind of pretty that comes with the sweetness of summer when fruits are ripe or the lightness of the breeze when you watch the sunset, on the beach with sand between your toes.

With the sun coming from the window, her hair is the color of this sunset, or perhaps more of the sunrise, light oranges blending with gold bathed in light. She has a brown apron on, and it only adds to her beauty, almost imperceptible freckles dotted over her whole face; they frame it like a painting, from her forehead down her wheels to her chin. They’re forming a constellation, Oscar is sure of this, and he wants to know which one. He would stay and watch her all day long, he thinks.  

It’s only when she waves her hand that he realises that he’s been staring at her for far too long. She’s speaking, too.

“Bonjour? Hi? How may I help you?” Her voice is melodic. His feet bring him closer. He should answer, right?

“Um… Hi.” What to say next? Should he ask for her name? No. That’s too forward. She’s pretty. Maybe that’s not the right adjective. She’s enchanting to look at, mesmerizing. She’s a siren and Oscar is just the poor sailor caught in her trap. Oscar doesn't know why he came here anymore. Maybe he can stay here, right where he is, and keep watching her. Would that make him a creep? Maybe if she’s aware of it it’s less creepy. 

“Are… are you okay? Do you need to sit down?” And she’s nice. She takes care of people. She doesn’t want him to suffer. She’s perfect, actually. Oscar thinks that he would follow her to the end of the world if she welcomed him. 

She’s coming over. Should he move? Oscar holds his breath, heart thundering in his ears. She takes his hand. Are they… are they going too fast? With his hand between hers, she guides him to a wooden stool, sitting him down. And then she leaves him. She’s decided to leave him, and he will be like Ariadne waiting for Theseus to come back. 

As soon as he thinks about this myth, she comes back, a glass of cool water in her hand. She puts it in his hand, blinking at him slowly.

“Hey, I brought you water. You know this, you have it in your hand, I don’t know why I said this.I hope you’re not having a stroke. But if you are, that's totally fine, or not, I guess. But I'll call the pompiers in thirty seconds if you don’t answer.” She hasn’t breathed once during her small tirade. But Oscar doesn’t want to inconvenience her more than he already has if he can help it. So this means he needs to say something.

“You’re pretty,” he blurts. Wow. Great first impressions, Oscar. 

She’s blushing. He can see this, her face close to his and her skin fair and almost translucent. Maybe he hasn’t fumbled this too much. 

“Right. Thank you. Did you come into the shop just to tell me this? Not that I’m ungrateful, of course. I’m really grateful actually. Thank you.” She’s cute. And she’s blushing even more, now. He can see it spreading to her ears and down her neck and… No. No impure thoughts. Think about something else, Oscar. What can you see? Her blush. Stop it. Flowers. Right, flowers. Flowers, flowers… Mother’s Day!

“Shit, sorry. I’m just—I actually came because I need flowers for my mum. It’s Mother’s Day.” Does he still have time before his mum wakes up? “So, yep. I need flowers”

“Of course!” she smiles and gets back. Oscar feels the spot where she was getting colder, and the hole in his chest gets bigger. She walks over to her working station and takes a pen and paper in hand. “Did you have particular flowers in mind? or a budget?”

“Do you know of any flowers that mean either gratefulness or flowers to apologize? I forgot her gift back home. Which now that I think about it, is maybe too much information?” He scratches the back of his head with his right hand. Honestly he’s not that worried about the price. His allowance should cover it. even if it ends up being higher than he anticipated.

“Well; if it’s for your mother and to apologise, pink oeillets are great. I think their English name is carnations.” She walks towards one of the walls filled to the brim with flowers and takes a pink one in her hand. “It’s this one, see?”

The flower’s pretty. Not as pretty as her, of course. 

“I like them. Could I have a bouquet?” She seems surprised; why? Fortunately, what she says next explains it.

“Don’t you want to hear about other flowers?” She asks, and he shakes his head right to left. “What’s interesting with carnations is that in France, they also mean gratefulness, so this means that they’ll be spot on for what you want!”

Oscar only nods, still dazed. He stays where he is, not moving an inch.

“I’ll make the bouquet, and as we go, you can tell me if you want more or less flowers, is that okay with you?” Oscar had planned on going to the bakery while the florist created the bouquet, but now that he is faced with the possibility of staying with her, he thinks he’ll stay and watch her work. 

Oscar observes her as she works and busies herself with selecting the flowers in the best conditions and filler flowers to add to the bouquet. It occurs to him that he hasn’t asked for her name. He should. When she asks him if there are enough flowers for the bouquet, Oscar hasn’t listened to a word coming out of her mouth, too occupied with watching her. And so he nods, agreeing with her, and when he realises that this means that he will spend less time with her because he’ll have to leave with the bouquet, it’s already too late, she’s wrapping the bouquet in pink tissue and white kraft paper; putting the finishes touches in the form of raffia and stapling her business card to the paper.

Once she finishes, she catches Oscar’s eye and smiles, blushing all the while. 

“It’s all done! Your total will be 35€.” She says while tapping on her till. The machine beeps and a receipt comes out of it. 

Oscar pays and he takes the bouquet that she holds out to him. Now he doesn’t want to leave. He should say something. At least ask for her name. “What’s y—”

“I wondered if—” They both speak at the same time, stopping when they realise the other is about to ask something. He manages to speak.

“Please go first”, he says gesturing with his free hand. Her blush is stronger now. She tucks a strand of hair behind her hair before speaking, and Oscar tracks the motion with his eyes, a cat with a treat.

“Well, I just—I wondered what your name was? If that’s not too forward, of course!” She bites her lips at her own advances, a mindless habit. He’d been about to ask the same thing, and so he’s happy that he’s not the only one who may be interested. This means he can feel less creepy.

“I’m Oscar. It’s great to meet you! And I was about to ask for your name too…” Oscar is all too happy to give his name to this enchanting florist. He can’t wait to hear her name.

“Uh. Well I'm Mirabelle, and it’s also great to meet you, and I hope that your mother will enjoy the flowers.” She smiles as she says this, and he thinks about the fruit, the mirabelle plum, with its sunset skin, so close to the colour of her hair.

“Your name is beautiful.” Just like you, he doesn’t say. “ I don’t know how to say this, but I’m coming back to Monaco in ten days, and I don’t know if you’ll be free or anything, and if you have anything to do or if you’re not interested, please don’t mind me and ignore me and forget I ever said anything but would you maybe want to go and drink a coffee with me?”

Oscar doesn’t know if she’ll be able to understand his word vomit. It probably makes no sense. The blush, which had begun to fade, comes back in full. 

“Yes of course! Hum… I’ll have to check if I'm free, but maybe I could send you a text to tell you?” Oscar thinks his soul just left his body. Did Mirabelle, the pretty florist, just ask for his name and then his number? He must be the luckiest man alive. He gives her his phone with a bit of gymnastics with his left arm, taking it from his right back pocket and unlocking it. She quickly types in her number and returns the divide to Oscar. When he looks at the contact she created, he can see she put in a purple flower next to her name.

“I couldn’t find lilacs in the emoji section, so I put a hyacinth,” she explains. He’s already half in love with her, he thinks. Whoever said that love at first sight doesn’t exist is wrong. She adds, “by the way, if you don’t want to damage the bouquet on the way back, you should hold it upside down.”

Oscar can feel his neck getting hot, and even if he doesn’t want to leave her, he knows he has to go back to the hotel room. And so he turns around, says goodbye, and he feels like Odysseus leaving Penelope, the flower shop their Ithaca.

He stops on the doorstep before leaving and turns around to say goodbye one last time. Mirabelle sees him and waves.

“Goodbye Oscar, see you soon! And you’re very pretty too”. At that, Mirabelle winks and hurries to busy herself.

Oscar finally leaves, all the while thinking about her.

Once he gets back to the hotel room, he realises that he forgot to go buy breakfast, and so when he sees his sister Hattie, he tells her to be quick and ask the reception for room service before their mum wakes up. When everything is set up, the four siblings gather in their parent’s room and slowly wake them up. Privately Oscar can guess that their mum was already awake, waiting for them.

By the time breakfast is finished, Oscar has spaced out more than once, and his mum can’t help but ask him what he’s thinking about.

“My future wife,” he blurts, before his mouth shuts and his eyes go wide. his parents share a glance.

“I thought you didn’t want to get married,” his mother says, and Oscar shakes his head. That’s true, he doesn’t want to get married, and he doesn’t think he ever will.

“I meant it in a spiritual sense. I met my soulmate today. She’s the one who made the bouquet”. 

And Nicole Piastri only has one answer for him:

“Well, you’ll have to practice your French, then.”

Taken from Twitter (09/05/2021)

@/NicolePiastri Thanks to my son and my daughters for this wonderful bouquet and breakfast in bed for Mother’s Day! and thank you @/mirabelledesmarais for the arrangement [Picture of Nicole in a hotel bed with a tray filled with pastries and a cup of coffee, along with a glass of orange juice. In Nicole��s arms is a bouquet of pink carnations] ↬ @/mirabelledesmarais I’m so glad you like the flowers! i hope you had a great day 💐 ↬ @/81futurewag girl no one asked for ur opinion

@/f14ever My dream is to have @/NicolePiastri as my MIL i need this mirabelle girl to go away and disappear from the face of the earth ↬ @/oscarthegoat i fear that’s everyone’s goal ↬ @/mimidefender4life She’s just doing her job what’s ur fucking problem ↬ @/oscarpiastriloml the ‘fucking problem’ as u said is that she’s a gold digger and she trying to become famous using oscar

@/oscarsfirstfan Happy mother’s day to our queen mother @/NicolePiastri ↬ @/oscatpastry She’s a national treasure ↬ @/F1GossipHere And @/OscarPiastri is such a good son, imagine him as a son-in-law, id die

I hope you liked it! I didn't think I'd write more than 2k words, but here we are :)

(the dividers are the works of @thecutestgrotto)

[dumbseee]

insecurity.

f1 au/fic: in which, lando and y/n have been dating for a few months, but fans are still talking about y/n’s past relationship. making lando feel insecure and questioning y/n’s feelings for him.

lando norris x singer!reader

(fc: jess alexander)

note: english isn’t my first language so excuse me for the mistakes this might have xx ALSO it’s the first time that i’m actually writing something so i hope it’s not too bad lmao. thank you for reading my aus btw <3

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, danielricciardo and 2 799 009 others.

y/n: happy birthday to my sun, you’re such a beautiful soul, i’m so proud to call you mine. i love you to the moon and back and promise to always love you.

_

landonorris: i love you more baby

danielricciardo: we’re at practice and he’s crying btw

fan1: they’re so absjdkdoldel

fan2: mama y papa

fan3: he always smile so brightly when he’s looking at her :(

fan4: i’m sorry but i can’t help but think about y/n’s ex… on the same day last year she was posting pictures of him

fan5: @.fan4 don’t do that… it’s about lando, not her ex

fan6: am i tripping or she also used to call her ex, her « sun »??

fan7: @.fan6 WHAT

fan8: @.fan6 no she didn’t?

_

lando sighed and threw his phone on his bed. of course he saw all the tweets about you and your stupid ex, how could he ignore them when it was all over the internet. people were speculating about if he was a rebound or a toy for you. lando was hurt, he always thought that you were way out of his league anyways so he should’ve seen it coming, right? you were an amazing and worldwide known singer, with your angelic voice and heartbreaking lyrics. you sang with your heart which made anyone who was listening to you, fall in love immediately.

that’s what happened with lando. he was always a big fan of yours, singing your songs on top of his lungs at parties, and following every single news about you, he even went to your concerts. one day, he went viral for singing your song on the radio with his engineer, he also happened to have made it to p3, which he said was because you were his lucky charm. the video was published online and went viral, you saw it and immediately found it adorable. the rest was history.

when you guys hard launched your relationship to the world, the big majority was happy for you two, happy to see you smile and happy to see that lando managed to get his crush. but a small minority saw that relationship as a rebound for you, saying horrible things about how you never loved lando and how you would dump him in a few months to go back to your one true love, your ex.

lando saw it all. and he hated it.

"lando? are you okay?" you asked, when you went to check in on him. he was supposed to bring a few blankets so you guys could watch a movie together. but he was taking way too much time so you went to see if he was okay.

"do you love me y/n?" he asked you, and the sadness in his eyes almost made you cry. lando’s eyes was what you loved the most about him, with his smile of course, but his gorgeous green eyes were full of emotions, you could drown in them and feel every little thing he was feeling just by looking at him.

"what are you talking about? of course i love you lando." you say, taking his hand in yours and softly kissing his knuckles. you saw him close his eyes and sigh deeply. you pushed him on the bed and sat next to him. "what happened?"

"it’s stupid, don’t worry about it." he finally looked up at you and faked a smile but it didn’t fool you.

"lando. tell me." you were still holding his hand and with your free hand you started to caress his cheek. he closed his eyes again and melted against your touch.

"your fans are still talking about your past relationship and how i’m nothing but a rebound to you." he said it in such a low tone you almost didn’t hear him. but sadly you heard his words and you could feel your heart shatter at how your fans words affected him. "i know that you guys stayed together for a while, and i know that you wrote good songs about him, i listened to them all, but… if you still love him you can-…"

"lando norris." you said in a serious tone, which startled him. "how am i supposed to love anyone else when you stole my heart and refuse to give it back?" his eyes lit up a little by your words. "and i literally wrote 56 songs about how much i love you so you better listen to them all once again and never doubt my feelings for you ever again, boy."

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, charlottesiine and 6 808 009 others.

y/n: ‘you are in love’ is officially out ;) little gift from me to you sweet lan <3

_

maxfewtrell: lando listened to it and locked himself in the bathroom to cry

landonorris: @.maxfewtrell FAKE NEWS

danielricciardo: i wish someone would write 57 songs about me…

heidiberger_: @.danielricciardo excuse me? (great song btw y/n!)

liked by y/n.

fan1: ZKSKSLXPODOSOZ

fan2: y/n making haters eat their words with one song: queen behaviour

fan3: i hope haters will stop hating on lando now how can you say that y/n is using him as a rebound

fan4: CALL 911 IM ON THE VERGE OF DEATH

fan5: y/n writing a love song for lando on his birthday :(

fan6: i love them so much pls

fan7: that whole drama about her ex was so dumb, they broke up for a reason and y/n also wrote songs about how awful he was to her towards the end of their relationship, why do you guys want her to go back to that dog?

liked by y/n.

[lecsainz]

SHE ATTENDED A RACE

˒ ⌕ masterlist . . .

parings: daniel ricciardo x businesswoman!reader

summary: that one where you're a businesswoman and get invited to an f1 event, ending up meeting your future boyfriend.

an: I've missed writing smau too, I think this december I'll be able to write more because guess what, finally my exams are over.

type: fluff ಇ

liked by dualipa , barzal97 and 764,648 others

yourusername u must be confused. get yours in december 16th www..yourbeautysite..com

18,718 comments

user1 y/n is so iconic with her promotions

hockeyfan NOT BARZAL IN THE LIKES

⤷ hockeyfan2 WE LOST HIM 😭😭😭

⤷ yourusername we are just childhood friends

ynfan send me one lipgloss please mom 🥺

kyliejenner looking forward to our colap girl!

liked by yourusername and 33,781 others

yourusername

liked by oliviarodrigo , danielricciardo and 4,679,301 others

yourusername my last weekend! ps: i don’t understand anything about this sport don’t blame guys I just girl that receive a request for one date 🤫

68,617 comments

danielricciardo you look pretty with my helmet 😉

⤷ yourusername I swear it wasn't me who knocked it over!

⤷ danielricciardo I know it was Yuki, he got nervous with you around.

⤷ yourusername omg hahaha, how cute! send him a kiss from me

⤷ danielricciardo and don't I get any love?

f1fan Y/N IN HER WAG ERA

ynfan8 the lipgloss omg she is a genius!

⤷ ynfan it’s a new flavor? cause a never see in that color 😭

⤷ ynfan4 IT WAS PINK I NEEDED 😩

dannyfan it’s that daniel’s car? OMG ITS!

user9 what’s your favorite team?

yourusername redbull 😎

liked by danielricciardo and 197,276

yourinstagram - 2hrs ago

seen by danielricciardo , landonorris 7,628,910 others

yourusername

liked by gigihadid , danielricciardo and 5,819,791 others

yourusername he likes buy me flowers.

87,627 comments

yourbestie please answer my messages bitch!

⤷ yourusername already going or not 🤩

user9 I can’t believe that she’s not single anymore 😭😭😭

ynfan ok it’s matt or daniel?

⤷ ynfan6 I think daniel!

⤷ hockeyfan matt and y/n are just best friends

landonorris I know who are this guy lalalala

⤷ charles_leclerc since when you and y/n are friends?

⤷ pierregasly I want to know too!

⤷ landonorris ever since y/n went to a race for the first time

⤷ yourusername lando has told me all about the gossip from the paddock.

⤷ landonorris speaking of which, I'll call you now to give you the updates from this week.

⤷ yourusername I LOVE IT.

danielricciardo I have this same shirt 🤔

⤷ yourusername oh you have a GREAT style 🤭

danielricciardo

liked by yourusername , landonorris and 13,728,991 others

danielricciardo love my girl to the moon and to saturn

89,718 comments

charles_leclerc pff, you guys make a cute couple

barzal97 taking care of my best friend, racing driver.

⤷ danielricciardo sure thing, hockey guy!

user2 can't wait to see the outfits she's gonna rock at the races.

landonorris y/n didn't tell me you two were announcing today 😭.

⤷ yourusername I don't spill all my life to you, lando.

⤷ landonorris why not? I t hought we were best friends 😭

ynfan8 my favorite couple.

yourusername love you loads

⤷ danielricciardo I know 😎

⤷ yourusername oh god 🤦🏻‍♀️

f1fan7 I LIVED to see y/n and daniel together

yourbestie can you introduce me to lewis hamilton, best friend?😇

⤷ yourusername I'll try 😝

[f1fnatic]

SOUL TIED ⤿ c. leclerc 16

→ ( in which. . . ) you, a firm believer in soulmates, find 'the one' though he doesn't believe in soulmates himself.

→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) written

→ ( pairing. . . ) charles leclerc x reader gender not specified

→ ( content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) none!

→ ( author's note. . . ) had this idea brewin in my mind for a while. thought it would be fun to write about a soulmate believer and a soulmate denier. hope you enjoy! see end for more

→ ( masterlist )

you were a strong believer in soulmates. twin flames, soul ties, and the red string theory were a few you lived by. but, lately, you began to think that you would never find yours.

it hurt you deep in your heart seeing those around you fall deeply in love with their other halves, while you were stuck on the sidelines, waiting till yours came around. you wanted to scream and yell at the universe, blaming whatever higher power for the many failed relationships you have endured. it was like a stake was being plunged through your chest every time you saw healthy relationships. everyone had their person, so why didn't you have yours?

at the beginning, you were hopeful. thinking that your current boyfriend was the one. though, as time went on, you became less and less hopeful. you yearned to feel that strong connection of love, to feel your heart physically skip a beat and your palms get sweaty. to have butterflies flutter in your core each time you made eye contact. you needed your person. you wanted your person.

some nights you lay awake, restless and staring at the ceiling, wondering what your soulmate would look like. would they be taller than you? have blue, green, or brown eyes? blond or black hair; maybe no hair at all?

you were tired of the endless cycle; find a man, fall in love, find out he's not 'the one', and break it off. time was a cruel thing, and it was laughing in your face.

charles never really understood the infatuation others had toward soulmates. he never was able to wrap his head around the fact that people would dictate their relationships by whether or not their partner was 'the one.'

sure, charles might've been a little bit of a playboy. it didn't help that his exes were almost all a part of the same friend group. he couldn't help himself, they were all stunning. and, who wouldn't want to date an f1 driver?

if he was being honest with himself, which is a rare occasion, then he would admit that yes, he was getting upset that he couldn't maintain a long-term relationship. he was fed up with starting relationships and then ending them almost a year later.

truly, it was starting to affect his work life. he started to become spacy during team meetings, wasn't performing well in the car, and would give short answers during interviews.

charles wanted to curse at time and blame it for never giving him enough of it. he was getting desperate, he wanted to find his person.

somehow, by some higher power, or by just plane luck, you won tickets to the monaco grand prix. to say you were ecstatic would be an understatement, you were over the moon. you had been following f1 for a while, since you were a kid actually. you remember watching the concerningly fast cars went around the seemingly endless circle with your father. if he was still around, you definitely would have taken him with you.

charles nerve's were through the roof. yet another home race, yet more expectations to live up to. there was something special about a home race, but in the moment, charles couldn't think of one good reason about his home race being special. there wasn't an f2 feature race, so his brother wouldn't be watching. his mom got a sudden influx of customers at her salon, and lorenzo was with charlotte for a vacation.

standing in the starting strip was a surreal experience. never would you have thought you would be standing where the metal machines would be in an hours time. the area was bustling with bodies. celebrities, media personnel, drivers, and their respective teams were all around you. things were loud. you could barely hear yourself think. the ferrari cap on your head stood out against the dark navy blue of redbull. ferrari was a few rows back while redbull was at the front.

charles' mind was racing. so many thoughts at such a fast speed cycling through his brain. he was attempting to make his way to his car so he could complete his pre-race warm-up with his trainer, but he kept getting stopped. fans and interviewers wanting a moment of his time. he was heavily tempted to say no, but that wouldn't be good for his pr officer. so, he stayed. eventually though, he had to excuse himself. or rather, his trainer grabbed him by his arm and dragged him to his car to finish preparing for the race.

in the bustle of everything, you failed to hear the shouts of a certain driver's name. that is until a body collided with yours and two pairs of arms wrapped themselves like snakes around your waist. your cap was knocked off of your head and stolen before you could say anything. you turned to look at who kept you from falling and your heart immediately quickened. butterflies fluttered deep in your stomach and hands started to get clammy.

stunning hazel eyes lock onto yours. a hot pink blush began to run from your neck to your cheeks. brown hair perfectly complimented his features. a bright smile creeping onto his mouth. this was him, you could feel it. you didn't know why, but he, he was your soulmate.

charles didn't know the feeling blooming in his chest. but the moment he bumped into you, a million sparks erupted like fireworks throughout his body. it was like he was engulfed in eternal sunshine. he loved it, he wanted more of it.

mere seconds felt like hours, days even, of just the two of you standing there. the crowd disappeared. the track cleared, it was just you and the ferrari driver. you were too stunned to speak, and it seemed as though charles was as well.

he had never seen someone so beautiful. he felt a breath trapped in his throat, struggling to get out. the way your eyes stared at him through your long eyelashes made him want to crumble to the floor. much to his dismay, charles was harshly snapped back to reality when a hand slapped him on the back, making him remove his hands from your waist.

a faint pout settled on your lips, the warmth of his large hands lingering. he politely excused himself with a smile, explaining that he had to continue preparing for the race. you smiled back, understanding the rush to resume his tasks.

as charles turned to walk away, the warm feeling that bloomed in his chest was now wilting into a bitter cold. he was disappointed that he didn't try to make a short conversation with you, maybe ask for your number to keep in touch as he knew he would most likely never see you again.

you watched his retreating figure weave in and out of the mob of people. disappointment settled heavy in your stomach. the pout on your lips deepened as he got further and further away. you cursed yourself for not saying anything, being too starstruck to speak.

walking away with a heavy heart and even heavier feet, you make your way to the ferrari hospitality. the race was about to start, meaning that hopefully, charles would finally win his home race. you were rooting for him, truly. especially after your little run-in on the start-stop line.

after the race ended with a historic p1 result from charles, you managed to find yourself below the podium. seeing charles stand so proudly as his anthem blared made you smile.

suddenly while he was looking around, he locked eyes with you. at first you thought he was looking at his team who was just in front of you, but then he pointed at you, smiled and waved. a blush made its way to your face.

after the podium celebrations concluded, someone in ferrari gear approached you asking you to come with them. nerves radiated throughout your body, why would a ferrari personnel want you? they lead you through the garage and into the back by the drivers room. they then knocked on charles' door and left. you stood there frozen, not knowing what to do.

soft shuffling was heard on the other side of the door then it swung open, revealing the podium sitter that made you blush beyond recognition.

charles didn't know what came over him, one second he was on the podium pride swimming around him and the next asking his pr manager to find you. he knew it was silly, but he couldn't help it. you were beautiful.

that same feeling came back to him once he saw you standing in the doorway. he felt like a schoolboy.

"hi." charles sighed out. he wasn't really sure where to start, i mean, what much could you have in common?

"hi." you respond simply. a confused expression sat on your face, what on earth were you doing here?

a very awkward silence sat suspended in the air. you hugged yourself, a protective gesture that charles picked up on. he dropped his hands to his side, trying to open up the failing conversation.

thoughts were running through your mind. a nagging feeling clawed at you. you knew this was 'the one,' so why was it so unbelievably awkward?

"listen," charles starts, left hand out in front of him and his right rubbing the nape of his neck, "i know this may seem crazy, but when we bumped into each other before the race, i got a feeling that i haven't been able to shake away." he looks up to you trying to gauge your reaction.

you nodded before saying, "i know what you mean."

relief flushes over his body. his mind came to a slowing stop, he was glad you knew what he was talking about.

"i've been a stong believer in soulmates since i was a little kid and when you caught me, i don't know how to explain it, but it felt like the universe was telling me 'this is the one.'" you express. a blush began to creep up your neck, slightly dusting your cheeks in pink.

charles looked away shyly. you had described exactly how he felt when he prevented you from falling on the track. it felt nice how quick you were to understand, he was sure he sounded like a broken record.

"well then," he says "you care if i get you a new cap?"

whoop another fic done and dusted! trying to make a dent in all of my drafts :') anyways, if you would like to be on the taglist, comment!!! requests and feedback are welcome! make sure to leave a comment and kudos as well (only if you want :P)

[cheftsunoda]

heal your heart—cl16

part three (very wordy AGAIN)

smau + real life

carlos sainz x !sister singer reader

charles leclerc x sainz reader

catalina sainz has it all— she is a successful grammy award winning artist, her brother is a well known formula 1 driver, she has an amazing family and wonderful friends. she was also blessed with a fiance and a beautiful baby boy.. she had everything.. until she didn't. her fiance disappears and takes her son with him. catalina watches as her world crumbles...who will be there to help pick up the pieces?

fc : kali uchis

⚠️ATTENTION : TRIGGER WARNING! mentions of depression, abuse, kidnapping. ⚠️

part one here

part two here

part four here

—

catluvsyou

liked by charles_leclerc, lando, iamrebeccad & 4,485,493 others.

catluvsyou : healing is hard- especially when part of you still feels torn open. i will not answer any questions at this time but i really appreciate all the support and love i have been shown. i also need to say the biggest thank you to my friends and family who have loved me through some of the worst parts.

username00 : no bc the image of her crying BROKE ME but then i saw charles on the piano and my heart said okay maybe there’s hope

usernameee : this is grief. this is survival. this is poetry. this is also charles leclerc and i am not okay about it

username20 : the mirror selfies are all taken in charles' house

lilymhe : the prettiest and strongest angel. we got you.

liked by author

username7 : slide one made me cry, slide four made me scream, slide six made me sob. give this woman a hug and a publishing deal.

username10 : her crying photo??? that wasn’t a post. that was a plea. and i hear her. i see her. i’m crying at work.

iamrebeccad : love you to the moon and back- strongest person i know.

liked by author

username0 : this is less “photo dump” and more “emotionally raw scrapbook entry with a dash of piano boy” and i’m HERE for it

username5 : she gave us heartbreak, healing, piano romance, AND mountain girl rebirth??? a saga. a life story. a manifesto.

charles_leclerc : tu possèdes une force incroyable. je prendrai toujours soin de toi.

liked by author

username000 : quick some french person tell me what he said PLS

username20 : you possess an incredible strength. i will always care for you

username000: ardfkjalmffsfajskhd

username15 : OMG

lewishamilton : Sending love and strength. Healing isn’t linear—be kind to yourself.

liked by author

lando : Love you always, bug. You are so so strong.

liked by author

pierregasly : Kika and I will be over sometime today with gifts:)

liked by author

kikagomes : and CAKE!!

liked by author

carmenmmundt : True strength looks like this. You’re incredible. Please take care of yourself.

liked by author

oscarpiastri : Quiet strength is the loudest kind. Rooting for you always.

liked by author

alexalbon : The strongest ever. I have your back. Always.

liked by author

—

twitter!

f1gossipgirls : Catalina Sainz has broken her silence...sort of. The popstar and sister to Williams driver Carlos Sainz posted a deeply personal “healing dump” to Instagram this morning, featuring tearful selfies, peaceful scenery, and what fans are 99% sure is CHARLES LECLERC at a piano in slide four.

Catalina wrote, "healing is hard- especially when part of you still feels torn open. i will not answer any questions at this time but i really appreciate all the support and love i have been shown. i also need to say the biggest thank you to my friends and family who have loved me through some of the worst parts."

Many WAGS and members of the F1 grid were in the comments including none other than Charles Leclerc himself, writing, "you possess an incredible strength. i will always care for you" in French.

Let us know your thoughts!

username00 : honestly catalina is out here surviving a trauma and all some of y’all can do is zoom in on wrists and watches… (but also it’s definitely charles)

username10 : why does it feel like she just posted the first chapter of a novel i’m already deeply invested in

username5 : healing is hard, yes, but healing with leclerc at your piano and sainz threatening international violence on your behalf??? couldn’t be me but i deeply admire

username7 : this entire season is just trauma, pianos, and deeply repressed European emotions. 10/10 would watch again.

usernameee : just say the word, catalina. we will ruin him on the timeline in 12 minutes flat.

username000 : no interaction from carlos at ALL that man is busy destroying someone

—

It had been a few days since the race. Charles and I were back at his in Monaco. He had been an absolute saint. He held me when I needed it, gave me space when needed, wrote and produced songs with me to get everything out, sat there and ate every meal with me so he knew I ate. I don't know if I could have made it these last few days without him. I have been so anxious to hear from Carlos and hopeful to see my son soon. I knew Carlos would not leave without him. He was - to say the least- determined. Charles insisted on getting me out of the house and into some nature today. Kika and Pierre were coming over tonight and while I am excited to see them- I do not know if I am in the best spot for guests right now. My PR team had forced me to post — at least making it known that I was alive…even though I didn’t feel like it. I sighed heavily staring at the spot in bed where Charles had just been. He left to get us some breakfast and said he 'got something special for me.' I throw myself out of the bed and head towards the bathroom. I turn on the shower and strip off Charles' T-Shirt and throw my hair up in a ponytail. Once I am out I do my bare minimum skin care and throw on one of his hoodies and some leggings. I go out and sit in the living room glancing out at the Marina. I hear a jingle of keys in the door and it opens and closes. Charles stood with a smile with two coffees in his hands.

"There's that beautiful face." He said with a mischievous grin on his face.

I narrow my eyes. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” he says, far too quickly.

“Charles.”

He walks toward me, setting the coffee down on the table. “Okay, but in my defense—he was very persuasive.”

Before I can ask who, he unzips the front pocket of his jacket… and out pops the tiniest dachshund I have ever seen.

A literal puppy. A wriggling, sleepy-eyed, cinnamon roll of a dachshund. His ears are floppy. His paws are too big. His tail does a lazy little wag, like he’s still deciding how he feels about this whole waking up thing.

I stare at them both.

“You brought home… a dog. In your coat.”

Charles shrugs. “Technically he brought me home. Found him outside the café. No collar. No chip. The barista said he’d been sleeping under a chair for hours. And I—” he pauses, eyes flicking to mine—“I didn’t want you to wake up to silence again.”

My chest caves a little.

The puppy whines, wiggling his way down from Charles’ arms onto the couch beside me like he’s always belonged here. He sniffs my leg, yawns dramatically, then curls up right against my thigh. I run a shaking hand over his tiny head.

“I don’t even know how to take care of myself right now,” I whisper.

“I know,” Charles says quietly. “But I am here to take care of both of you."

I swallow the lump in my throat. The puppy lets out a tiny snore. Charles hands me my coffee like it’s the most normal morning in the world. And somehow—despite everything—I smile.

—

Kika is sitting cross-legged on the kitchen island, stealing olives straight from the dish while Pierre argues with Charles (in french) about the “correct” way to make garlic prawns. There’s music playing — something soft and jazzy — and for the first time in what feels like centuries, I’m laughing without guilt. It’s warm here. The air smells like garlic and lemon and something sweet baking in the oven. Kika’s telling me a ridiculous story about an afterparty in Monaco and miming Lando’s drunk dance moves when Charles comes up behind me and rests his hand at the small of my back. Just a small gesture. But it grounds me. Leo — now inseparable from me — is snuggled in a pile of blankets at my feet, snoring softly. I don’t realize my phone is ringing until Kika gently nudges my arm.

“It’s buzzing, babe.”

I glance at the screen, expecting another message from Rebecca or maybe Arthur sending a meme he shouldn’t. But it’s not.

It’s Carlos. My heart stumbles. I freeze. Everything else — the wine, the laughter, the lightness — evaporates in a second.

Charles notices immediately. He steps closer. “Do you want me to—?”

I shake my head and answer, walking quietly toward the balcony and sliding the door closed behind me.

“Carlos?” My voice cracks just on his name.

His breath is shaky through the line.

“Cat,” he says, and his voice is trembling, a little breathless. “You need to get on a flight. Now. Come to Madrid. Come to the house.”

“What—?”

He cuts me off.

“It’s him,” Carlos says, and I can hear the tears in his voice. “They found Mateo. He’s safe. He’s safe, Catalina. He’s coming home.”

The world tilts. My knees go out from under me and I grab the balcony railing to keep from falling.

“He’s—?”

“Alive. Okay. Scared. But okay.”

I’m already moving. Back through the door. Charles is on his feet before I even say a word, his eyes locked on mine.

“I have to go,” I breathe, my chest barely able to contain the sound. “Carlos—Mateo—he’s been found. I need to get to Madrid. Now.”

Charles doesn’t blink. Doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll get a jet. Come on.”

Kika gasps behind me, tears already spilling. Pierre quietly steps in to grab my coat and my purse. I gently pick up Leo and put him in my purse, his little face sticking out the top. Kika and Pierre both hug me and press kisses to my cheeks.

"Go get your boy." She said with a smile on her face and tears in her eyes.

Everything is a blur. But underneath the shaking, the panic, the fear, there’s something I haven’t felt in so long I barely recognize it. Hope.

—

The plane is humming softly beneath us. Everything outside the window is dark ink black, velvet sky. The stars feel too far away tonight. Charles is sitting beside me, his hand covering mine. He hasn’t let go since the car ride to the airport. His thumb moves in small, slow circles over my knuckles. I don’t think he even knows he’s doing it. I’ve barely spoken since the call. My body is still moving, but my heart is somewhere else—somewhere back in Madrid, reaching for my son with every breath. He’s alive. I keep repeating it in my head like a prayer. He’s alive. He’s alive. Mateo is alive. I don’t realize I’m crying again until Charles reaches up and wipes my cheek gently with the sleeve of his hoodie. His eyes are soft when they meet mine, and there’s no pity there—just presence. Just him.

“You’re doing so well,” he whispers.

“I feel like I’m going to fall apart.”

“If you do,” he says, “I’ll be here to help put the pieces back together.”

I look at him then, really look. His hair is messy from the wind. He didn’t pack anything — just came with me, like it was never even a question. Like his place was beside me, without asking for anything in return. My chest tightens.

“Charles?”

He turns toward me, brow furrowing gently. “Yes?”

I hesitate. The words scrape on the way out.

“Will you stay?” I whisper. “Not just for the flight. I mean… once we’re there. After I see Mateo. After the storm. Will you still be there?”

His hand moves to cup the side of my face, thumb brushing just under my eye.

“There’s nowhere else I want to be,” he says softly. “As long as you’ll have me, I’ll stay.”

And something in me — something hard and scared and bracing for impact — unclenches. I lean into his hand. And for the first time since everything shattered, I believe I might be able to feel whole again. Not today. Not tomorrow. But maybe someday. And maybe with him.

—

The sky is bleeding pale pink and gold as the car rolls to a stop in front of my parents’ house. I haven’t slept. I don’t think I’ve even blinked since the call. My hands won’t stop shaking. Charles hasn’t let go of me once. Not in the car. Not at the airport. Not even now, as Carlos steps out from the front porch and rushes toward us. His face is worn, sleepless. But there’s something else in his eyes. Something like awe. He pulls open the car door and helps me to my feet before pulling me into a hug.

“They’re inside,” he says, and I barely register the they until he adds: “Mamá, Papá… and Mateo. He’s awake. He’s been looking around for you.”

The world tilts beneath my feet.

Charles tightens his grip on my hand. “Do you want me to come with you?”

I nod. I can’t say the word. My chest is too full. My throat too raw. The front door opens, and we step into the hallway I haven’t walked through in over a year. Everything smells like coffee and lemon soap. Like comfort. Like a memory I didn’t trust myself to hope for again. Then I hear it. A soft babble. A whimper. The shuffle of tiny feet on hardwood. And I run. Through the hallway, around the corner — and there, standing on unsure little legs, clinging to the coffee table, is my son. Mateo. His curls are longer, wilder. His cheeks round and flushed. He’s holding the stuffed fox he never used to sleep without. There’s a little bruise on his knee. A scratch above his eyebrow. But he’s standing. Breathing. Alive. He looks up, blinking at me with those deep, dark eyes that are unmistakably mine. And then—

“Mama?”

The tiniest, hoarsest whisper.

I collapse to my knees as the sob shreds out of me. “Hi, baby,” I gasp. “Hi, my sweet boy. Mama’s here. I’m here.”

He stumbles toward me and throws his little arms around my neck. I cradle him to my chest, my hand splayed over his back, my lips pressed to every inch of his skin I can reach — his hair, his forehead, his cheek, his tiny shoulder. His weight in my arms feels like resurrection. Charles kneels quietly beside us. I feel his hand at my back — not trying to share the moment, not intruding. Just grounding me. Holding me in case I fall apart. Mateo lifts his head and looks at Charles, blinking curiously. Then, without hesitation, he reaches one pudgy hand out and gently touches Charles’ cheek. My breath hitches.

Charles smiles, soft. “Bonjour, petit,” he whispers.

Mateo giggles. Just once. A perfect, bright little sound. And in that moment — with my son safe in my arms and Charles beside me — I finally let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, we’re going to be okay.

—

The house is still now. The kind of still that only comes after a storm has passed. That breathless hush where no one dares move too quickly in case it all disappears again. Mateo is tucked into my chest, warm and heavy with sleep, his breath soft against my neck. I’m sitting in the old rocking chair in my childhood bedroom, the same one Mamá used to rock Carlos and me in when we were sick or scared. Charles is stretched out on the floor nearby, one arm tucked under his head, watching us. The lamp beside me casts a golden halo over him. His curls are slightly tousled, his eyes soft and endlessly patient.

“He used to fall asleep like this every night,” I whisper. “After a bottle, I’d hold him just like this until his little fingers relaxed.”

Charles doesn’t say anything right away. Just watches me with that quiet reverence I’ve come to rely on more than I care to admit.

“You’re amazing, you know,” he finally says.

I scoff under my breath, brushing Mateo’s hair back. “I don’t feel amazing. I feel broken. Guilty. Like I should’ve known something was wrong. Like I should’ve stopped it before—”

“Catalina.” His voice is firm but gentle. “You did the best you could with what you knew. And now you’re doing even more. You’re here. He’s safe. Because of you.”

I swallow hard. “I don’t know how to fix all the damage.”

“Start small,” he says. “Start with tonight. With holding him. With letting yourself be held too, when you need it.”

I meet his eyes. “Is that an offer?”

He smiles, slow and sure. “Always.”

—

The hallway creaks under my bare feet as I make my way to the kitchen. The house is dark except for the low hum of the fridge and the soft clink of a spoon against a mug. Mamá is sitting at the table. Papá stands behind her, one hand on her shoulder. They both look up when I step in. My mother’s eyes shine, and before I can say anything, she’s on her feet, wrapping me in the kind of hug only a mother can give. One that forgives and aches and tries to make up for lost time all at once.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “For keeping so much from you.”

She pulls back and holds my face between her hands. “No, mi amor. I’m sorry. That you felt like you had to.”

Papá steps forward and places a hand on my back. “Why didn’t you tell us, Cat?"

“I didn’t know how,” I admit. “I didn’t want you to see how bad it had gotten. I didn’t want Carlos to explode. I didn’t want you to worry… or to feel like I’d failed.”

My mother’s lip trembles. “You could never be a failure to us.”

We sit down together. They don’t press. They don’t ask for details. They just listen as I start to speak — slowly, haltingly — about the fear, the control, the way it all snuck up on me until I barely recognized myself.

“I lost myself in that house,” I say, voice hoarse. “I didn’t even realize how much until he was gone. Until Mateo was gone.”

“You didn’t lose yourself,” Papá says. “You were surviving. And now you’re reclaiming your life.”

“And you’re not alone anymore,” Mamá adds softly.

—

The kitchen is bathed in gold light. My mother is at the stove, humming. Carlos is seated at the table, hair a mess, cradling a mug like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. And there, in the middle of it all, is Charles — barefoot, wearing one of Carlos’ old sweatshirts, balancing Mateo’s sippy cup in one hand and slicing a banana with the other.

“What,” I murmur, completely frozen in the doorway, “is happening?”

Charles grins. “He woke up. I offered to make him breakfast. He accepted. On the condition I provide ‘nana’ and 'toons'.”

Carlos snorts. “They’re best friends now. Sorry, Cat. You’ve been replaced.”

Charles leans down and wipes a bit of mashed banana from Mateo’s cheek. “He takes after you, I think. Big eyes. Stubborn. Curious about literally everything. Tried to eat my shoelace earlier.”

I walk over slowly, cautiously, like I don’t want to scare the moment away. But Mateo turns the second he senses me, arms up, babbling something in his own tiny language.

“Hey, baby,” I whisper, scooping him into my arms. “Did you make a new friend?”

He twists in my arms and reaches for Charles again — one chubby hand landing on Charles’ cheek. Charles leans into it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. My chest cracks open in the best possible way.

Mamá places a plate of eggs and toast in front of me. “Eat, mija. You look like a ghost.”

“I feel like one,” I admit. “But… less haunted than yesterday.”

Mateo babbles something and points to Charles. “Sha!”

Carlos raises an eyebrow. “Was that his name?”

Charles beams. “I’ll take it.”

I watch them — my brother, my mother, my son, and this man who somehow walked into the rubble of my life and just... started building with me. Mateo wiggles down from my lap and toddles unsteadily back toward Charles, arms up again. And Charles — without hesitation — lifts him with a soft “bonjour, mon petit,” and settles him on his hip. Mateo giggles. Charles grins. I press my hand to my chest and try to hold in everything I feel. Love. Gratitude. Maybe even the tiniest thread of peace.

“I think he likes you,” I say, voice uneven.

Charles looks up, eyes warm. “Yeah? I like him too.”

And just like that, for the first time in a long time, breakfast tastes like more than just survival. It tastes like coming home.

—

catluvsyou

liked by lando, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 & 8,475,202 others.

catluvsyou : after weeks of pain and uncertainty, my heart is finally whole again. mateo is back where he belongs — safe, loved, and surrounded by family. thank you to everyone who stood by us through this fight. healing is still a journey, but today, we begin a new chapter together. my new single called 'ilysmih' is out now- for my whole heart- mateo. mommy loves you always.

—

username00 : charles and MATEO omg omg

usernameee : so happy for you, catalina. you deserve all the happiness and more.

liked by author

username10 : the song is literally so raw and emotional- i am sobbing on the subway rn

liked by author

username20 : 'my baby's really here' has me sobbing like a bitch.

username15 : charles wins stepdad of the century

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username00 : omg she liked

arthur_leclerc : So happy for you, Cat. I'd say I'm in the running for best uncle.

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lando : you bribed him

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georgerussell63 : Your strength, Catalina, is a reminder to us all that no matter the obstacles, love and resilience always prevail. Mateo’s safe with you, and that’s what truly matters. Proud of you and the beautiful song...it’s from the heart.

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kikagomes : so happy for you beautiful mama. give mateo a kiss from aunt keeks

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lando : So happy for you, Bug. Your strength is absolutely incredible. Mateo was blessed with the best mum on the planet.

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charles_leclerc : Watching you be a mother and regain all your light has been one of the best experiences of my life. I have all the love in the world for you and Mateo. The song is beyond beautiful and I am so honored to have been involved in the process.

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username15 : omg charles helped make ilysmih

sebastianvettel : True courage is being vulnerable in the face of hardship. Catalina, your story reminds us all to keep fighting for what matters most. Mateo has a warrior mom, and I’m proud to see your strength.

liked by author

carlossainz55 : You were born to be a mother and I am so glad to see you so happy again. Love you always.

liked by author

—

Today was the day. I had to face him again. To fight for our son. I was nervous but I had Charles and Carlos...and the whole grid there to support me. The hallway outside the courtroom smells sterile, like polished tile and nerves. My heels echo on the floor as I walk, heart pounding. Every step forward feels like it's being taken in someone else’s shoes — someone stronger, someone unshakeable. But they’re mine. So is the suit I’m wearing. So is the fire in my chest. So is the little boy at the center of it all — asleep in my mother’s arms two rooms away, blissfully unaware of the war being waged in his name. Charles walks beside me, hand warm at my lower back, his quiet presence grounding me in ways I still don’t know how to put into words. He hasn’t left my side in months. Not when the lawyers called. Not during the mediation sessions. Not after the nightmares that woke me up sobbing at 3AM. And not today.

The press is outside — of course they are. The whispers of “star studded custody battle” had turned this into a media frenzy. But they can’t get in. The judge issued a strict order. No cameras. No recording. Just us. Just the truth. As we approach the courtroom doors, I hear voices ahead — and then I see them. Carlos. Standing tall, jaw tight, eyes locked ahead like he’s walking onto the grid. Rebecca beside him, holding his hand. Lando leans against the wall across from them, wearing a suit and looking completely out of place but determined nonetheless. And behind them — I almost laugh — George, Alex, Pierre, Kika, Lewis and even Arthur. Half the grid is here. For me. The moment I appear, they all straighten up like a switch was flipped.

Carlos walks over and pulls me into a hug — quick, fierce, protective. “You’ve got this, Cat.”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“Don’t let that asshole rattle you,” Lando mutters. “We’ll all be right there. He’s not gonna touch you.”

I glance at Charles, who meets my gaze with steady, unwavering loyalty. “I’m proud of you,” he whispers.

The bailiff calls us in.

—

It’s colder in here. The wood-panelled walls are imposing. The judge ��� a stern woman with grey hair and glasses that seem to see through souls — gives no greeting. Only a nod. I sit at the petitioner’s table. My lawyer, a calm but steely woman named Lucia, opens her folder. Across from us, he sits in a dark suit, flanked by his attorney. He doesn’t look at me. Good. I don’t want him to. The first hour is procedural. Papers submitted. Timelines reviewed. The judge flips through documents as if they don’t hold the pieces of my life. And then it begins.

Lucia rises. “Your honor, we will demonstrate that the respondent’s actions — namely, removing the child without the petitioner’s consent and crossing international borders — constitute not only a violation of custody but a potential endangerment. We will also present evidence of emotional and physical abuse and coercive control throughout the relationship.”

I grip the edge of the table. Charles’s hand drops to my knee beneath the table. A silent promise—I’m here. The other side protests. Paints me as unstable. Mentions “emotional distress” and “a demanding career.” They try to twist my own trauma into a weapon against me. But then Lucia brings up the messages. The controlling texts. The surveillance. The bank accounts I was locked out of. The judge’s brow furrows. And then I take the stand. I took a deep breath, feeling the cold weight of the courtroom walls around me. As I stood before the judge, my heart pounded in my chest like a race engine — fast, erratic, out of control. But I had to steady myself. For Mateo. For truth.

“I want to speak honestly,” I said, voice trembling but clear. “Because for too long, the truth has been buried.”

"The first time he raised his voice — just a sharp word over something small. I remember the shock, the way my breath caught in my throat, the sudden coldness creeping up my spine. I wanted to believe it was a one-time thing. But it wasn’t."

The judge nodded silently, and I pushed on.

“At first, he was loving. Protective. The kind of partner I thought would always keep me safe.” My throat tightened. “But then the control began. Phone calls monitored. Friends disappearing from my life. Little freedoms taken away, bit by bit. He had started to get more physical with me. Wouldn't take no for an answer."

"I recall sitting alone in a dim hotel room after a long day in LA, my phone buzzing silently with messages I couldn’t answer. The loneliness was suffocating. I felt like I could not even do the one thing I loved anymore, I was losing myself. A part of me was dying."

In the courtroom, I caught Carlos’s eye — his jaw clenched, fists tightened around the bench. Charles sat beside him, quietly supportive but with a fierce protectiveness radiating from his posture.

“I was afraid to sing,” I said, voice cracking. “Music was my breath, but it became my cage. Every lyric I wrote was scrutinized. I felt trapped in my own story.”

"A night in our home, Mateo asleep in his crib, and me crying in the dark. The weight of silence was unbearable. I wanted to scream but had no voice."

The room murmured softly, some eyes glistening with tears. Lando shifted in his seat, visibly tense. I felt their silent strength.

“The worst day was when I came home from a trip and found him gone. Mateo was gone.” I swallowed hard, tears threatening to spill. “A note on the kitchen counter: ‘I don't want this anymore. I don't want you' No explanation. No warning.”

I looked at the judge, the weight of those words hanging heavy in the air.

“That moment shattered me. I was lost in fear for Mateo’s safety — for my own.”

The judge leaned forward, eyes intent.

“I am here to fight. Not just for custody, but for healing. For our future. Mateo deserves that.”

My voice cracks on the last sentence. I looked over at Charles — his eyes glimmered with unshed tears and fierce determination. There’s a silence so heavy I can barely breathe.

Lucia finishes with, “Catalina Sainz is not only a devoted mother, she is a survivor. And she is asking this court to protect the only person that matters now: her son.”

—

The judge calls a short recess before ruling. I step outside the courtroom and lean against the wall, heart racing. Charles follows, wraps his arms around me from behind, pressing a kiss to the side of my head.

“You were unbelievable,” he whispers. “So brave.”

“I don’t feel brave.”

“You don’t have to. You just have to keep going. You’re almost there.”

Carlos joins us, standing in front of me, arms crossed. “No matter what happens, we fight. We keep fighting until Mateo is safe with you permanently.”

I nod. The tears finally come, slow and quiet. Inside, the judge returns. We go back in. She rules in my favor. Full custody. I hear it. I feel it. But it doesn’t truly sink in until I walk back out and see Charles standing there, and I say — “We won.” And he doesn’t say anything. Just pulls me into his arms and holds me like the world has finally stopped spinning.

—

The three of my main protectors stood outside waiting for (ex name) to show. Carlos’s jaw was clenched so tight I thought it might snap. Charles stood a step behind him, his usually calm demeanor taut, eyes sharp as daggers. Lando hovered nearby, fists clenched, ready to step in if things escalated.

He approached them with a smug grin. He didn’t look intimidated, which only stoked the fire burning in Carlos’s chest.

Carlos’s voice was low but cutting. “You think you can just take him? Take Mateo without a word and expect no consequences?”

He shrugged, a cold smile twitching at his lips. “I did what I had to do. She was not around enough. Maybe I’m the better parent.”

Charles stepped forward, voice calm but laced with warning. “You’re wrong. This isn’t about competition — it’s about what’s best for Mateo. And that means respecting Catalina.”

"Oh suddenly you know her? Just because you fuck her?" He said with a smirk taunting Charles. Charles balled his fists. Carlos rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Hit me, pretty boy. See what happens." He irked on.

Lando’s tone was sharper, unmistakably protective. “You're fucking with the wrong family, asshole. Don't push me."

His smile faded, replaced by something colder — calculating. “Families fall apart. Especially when secrets come out.”

Carlos’s eyes darkened. “Watch your mouth.”

He sneered. “I’m just telling the truth.”

Charles’s fist clenched at his side, but he held his ground. “Well, we saw what the court said. She is clearly the more fit parent, considering she didn't kidnap him. Hell, maybe if you didn't you'd still be allowed to see him."

For a moment, no one moved. The tension hung thick, like a storm ready to break.

Then he turned on his heel, voice cold. “This isn’t over.”

Charles placed a steadying hand on Carlos’s shoulder. Lando stayed close, eyes never leaving my ex’s retreating back.

—

The house was filled with laughter, the kind of warmth that felt like a fragile promise of better days. Charles was pouring champagne, Carlos was cracking jokes, and Lando was making Mateo giggle with silly faces. I sat there, surrounded by people who felt like family — a rare moment of peace after everything. My new single played softly in the background, a bittersweet soundtrack to the night. For a moment, I let myself breathe. Then my phone buzzed on the table. I glanced down — incoming call.

“Excuse me,” I said quietly, standing up and stepping outside onto the cool night air. The sounds inside faded behind me.

I pressed the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

The voice was low, urgent. “Catalina… we need to talk.”

I hesitated. “I’m with people. Can it wait?”

“No. It can’t,” the voice insisted. My chest tightened.

Before I could pull away, a rough hand grabbed my arm, yanking me back into the shadows.

“Let me go!” I gasped, struggling.

“Quiet,” he hissed in my ear. “We’re not done.”

Panic surged through me, freezing me for a split second before fear turned into fight. But I was caught — trapped by the man whose presence I never wanted again. I gripped my phone and tried to dial Charles. He threw my phone to the ground and I heard it crunch. Inside the house, I could only imagine the sudden silence, the questions, the worry growing like wildfire. I wanted to scream, to run, to disappear. Instead, I was dragged back into a nightmare I thought I’d escaped. And suddenly, everything was at risk again.

—

p3 complete:)))))

yall thought id just give you an easy happy ending???

my bad

p4 is done so it will be published soon:)

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@charli123456789 @anunstablefangirl @hadids-world @jkoooooooookie @mischiefmanaged21 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @bravo-delta-eccho @cxlpxrnia @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @yara011 @kodzuvk @yawn-zi @rorabelle15

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@novelswithariana @heyyurl @charizznorizz @sassy-persona @literallysza @charlesgirl16 @emneedshelp @destinyg237 @nichmeddar

[hazelsmirrorball]

Lacy | Oscar Piastri x Logan Sargent x Fem! Reader

summary: oscar piastri has everything logan sargent could ever wish for but he would trade everything just for y/n to seem him the way he sees her

faceclaim: olivia rodrigo

pairings: oscar piastri x gf!singer!reader, logansargent x friend!singer!reader

a/n: can’t even tell you what is this, but it’s something different that’s for sure. Excuse any errors english isn’t my main language

Logan Sargents eyes wandered all over Oscar Piastri’s apartment. His heart beats to the rhythm of the clock near him. He could feel sweat dripping from his forehead as he waited for Oscar to enter the living room. For a guy that almost exploded his phone with messages for them to hang out; he’s taking a lot of time to pay him attention.

At first he didn’t want to come, but part of him felt guilty if he denied his best friend’s invitation. He couldn’t say he was busy because the McLaren driver could read right through him. He nervously played with his hands trying to think of something, anything but the thought of Oscar’s longterm girlfriend. He felt bad, he couldn’t lie to himself and deny what was going through his head.

But as Logan’s eyes continuously scanned his around his apartment trying to distract himself it was as he saw the ghost of her leaning towards him. Every bit and piece had, y/n’s touch, everything traced back to her.

Her sweet perfume lingered on the couch cushions. While an empty can of her favorite drink sat on the table in front of him. As he kept looking his eyes rested on the small table next to him, the red cherry lipstick that covered her beautiful lips stared back at him as he felt his stomach turn. Pieces of her used handmade bows that had little strands of her hair. Logan let a deep sigh imagining all the times Y/n would come in the paddock with her sweet cherry lips and her beautiful hair flowing in the wind.

Logan’s hand slowly reached for the table in front of him, trying to snap himself out of the trance he was being suck into. How can a thing so sweet ruin all his morals, all his beliefs. He felt guilty, guilty for wanting the one thing that made Oscar Piastri happy.

But why couldn’t he have her? Oscar wasn’t a bad person towards Logan, well at least not directly. Oscar Piastri had everything Logan Sargent ever wanted. A perfect F1 career, a perfect team, a perfect life and the perfect girl. Oscar was smart, attractive and funny, everything opposite from Logan. At least in his eyes. Why couldn’t Logan have this one thing? What did Oscar have that Logan didn’t? He swore he had potential, he just needed time for people to see it. Oscar had the only thing Logan Sargent really wanted, Y/n.

“Sorry, mate! I was busy helping Y/n hang a painting in her room. But my attention is one hundred percent on you now” Oscar said sitting down next to Logan. He slowly scanned Oscar body noticing the familiar lipstick stain adorned on his lips.

As much as Logan wanted to avoid the facts. He found himself stumbling upon the couple everywhere he would go. Photos of them in the paddock, group hangouts, hell even fans would tagged him in their couple pictures. It drove him insane, he tried to rationalize, to call himself. But every single thing Oscar did was poison for Logan, he couldn’t take it anymore. It was like Oscar deep down knew about Logan’s feelings towards her and was out to get him. He wanted to make him suffer, there wasn’t any other reason. Oscar was to get Logan, that was a constant thought in his head. Maybe he was jealous or maybe he idolized Oscar in a way no one else could.

“Oh, it’s no problem really. Mentioning Y/n I don’t know if you remember the text I sent you a few weeks ago” Logan said placing his notebook in the table in front of Oscar and him. Oscar looked at the notebook and nodded

“Yeah! I showed y/n the thing you wrote and she was over the moon! she enjoyed it a lot, she was in a complete writers block so that helped her a lot with writing that new ep she wanted to do. So thank you so much logan, i owe you one big time” Oscar said slightly punching logan shoulder as he forced a smile letting out a chuckle with him.

“that’s what friends are for. But she decided to make the poem into a song? i didn’t think it was that good” Logan responded raising an eyebrow towards Oscar. He simply shook his head and turned towards him.

“I don’t know where or how you wrote that poem. But i trust y/n’s opinion, that song is going to be a hit!” Oscar responded in attempt to shake Logan insecurities. He quietly nodded, feeling a real smile starting to creep up.

“what’s the name of the song?” Logan managed to slip out

“Lacy”

Oh, Logan Sargent Loathed the dazzling starlet that was Oscar Piastri and even though he didn’t have y/n. he would do anything to have Y/n bows around his wrist and her lipstains on places only the two of them would know, even if he had to play the long run.

y/nnnn via instagram!

liked by logansargent, oscarpiastri and 2,368,902 others

y/nnnn so excited for my new single that’s coming out real soon!!! thank you so much to one of my favorite drivers @logansargent that gave me the main inspo to write this song, love you so so much and i wish you guys love this so as much as i do x.

view all comments

landonorris for a moment i forgot you were a singer, i thought you were just oscar’s annoying gf

-> y/nnnn shut up

user101 mother is back!!!!

user23 thank you logan for being y/n’s inspiration

user1893 team logan!!!!!!

user78 team oscar!!!

oscarpiastri so talented! i love you so so much

logansargent you are wonderful y/n!! i’m always proud of you and ur music