#f1driver!reader

[no-144444]

outbursts- o.piastri

summary: your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.

pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader

warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist.

pls remember this is fiction and purely for fun!

(also i had no idea what to put as the third photo and it was either the sid (max) the sloth or fernando alonso so do with that what you will!)

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve

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Monaco. Monaco. Monaco. 

You were starting P4. Lando was in P5. You had been given your orders. Keep him in P4, or get him higher if you could. Give him DRS every lap. Don’t fuck up his race. 

“Alright Y/n, good luck,” Oscar’s voice rang in your ears as the formation lap began. Part of you was still hurt from Imola. Oscar had made you feel like you mattered to at least one person in the team, but he turned his back on you just the same as everyone else. “Just stick to the plan.”

“Copy,” you answered, slotting into your grid spot. You were officially the highest scoring woman in F1 history. You were breaking barriers. Yet, you spent your winning night alone in your hotel room feeling like you mattered less than the dirt on Zak Brown's shoe. 

The light turned red, then they were out. You got a great start, and in one corner, somehow, by some fucking grace of god, you were in the lead of the Monaco Gran Prix. 

“What the fuck happened?” you radioed in. “Where did everyone else go?”

“You’re in P1, Y/n,” Oscar explained. “Drive.”

“Where’s Lando?” you asked. You hadn’t meant to take the lead.

“P5 still.” 

“How do I get him to the front?” you panicked. You knew what everyone would say. You were officially McLaren’s bitch. “Oscar, how do I get him to the front?”

“It’s Monaco,” he sighed. “You can’t.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

It was torture. Crossing that finish line first. You’d won an F1 race in your rookie season. You were a Grand Prix winner. 

You were terrified to get out of that car. Daniel had to run over and make you get out. Max helped you out, and you didn’t even have anything to say. 

“You did it!” Daniel cheered, pulling you in for a hug. “You fucking did it!” 

You just nodded, searching at the barrier for Zak, for Oscar, for someone. They weren’t there. You were going back to an empty garage. You were nothing to them. 

“What’s wrong?” Daniel asked, noticing the way your mood shifted. He looked at the barrier, and he saw no one in papaya. “Those fuckers…” he curseed. “Not even Oscar?”

“It’s fine,” you shook your head, trying to calm yourself down. “I didn’t stick to the plan.” 

“What plan?” 

“Help Lando,” you explained. Max rolled his eyes. 

“You’re a better driver than him, McLaren are lucky to have you,” Max told you. “Come celebrate with us, yeah?”

You nodded and continued on with your duties, diligently doing every interview, praising Lando for making up a place and joining you on the podium, while he bad-mouthed you to the press over ‘not following the plan’.

You walked into the garage and they all clapped. The first woman to do it. Highest female points scorer in history. You looked at Oscar, who offered you a sad smile. 

Someone called for you to make a speech, but you couldn’t do it. You walked into your driver’s room and you broke down. 

You’d never been the kind of person that was easy to break down. You hadn’t been the kind of  person someone wanted to break down either, but you were well past wondering why they had started to hate you. When you were signing your contract, you were so sure that they wanted you. You were positive it would be different from the last time, different from RedBull. You were wrong. A knock on the door silenced your sobs and stopped the thousands of thoughts running through your mind. 

“Y/n,” it was Oscar, of fucking course. “Zak wants to see you.”

“Fuck off,” you sighed. “I’ll talk later.”

“He really wants to see you-”

You swung the door open, angry. “For what, Oscar? For what? To berate me for being a good fucking driver?! To scream at me for not following the plan?!” you screamed, and caught a glimpse of Lando. “And another thing,” you turned your attention to Lando. “I am so fucking sorry that you can’t do things on your own, and you constantly need my help and Zak’s approval to live your life!” You turned back to Oscar. “And you, you. You can stop fucking pretending to be my friend, just to turn on me again. We all fucking know I’m not staying here next season, so let’s just get through the year and say our goodbyes, yeah?!” 

You slammed your door behind you. A few hours later you woke up from a nap you didn’t remember taking, and you saw Oscar sitting at your desk. The sun had set. 

“Evening,” he smiled. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked. 

“Everyone went home, I wanted to talk to you, so I waited,” he shrugged. 

“Why do you want to talk to me?” you questioned. 

“I’m sorry,” he started. “McLaren is a complete boys club, and it’s shit. I’m sorry that I’m part of that. I’m sorry that I’m not allowed to openly support you. I’m sorry that we’ve made you feel like you shouldn’t be a good driver. I’m sorry. I really hope you can forgive me and I can be here for you. Just as a friend, or someone to stand at the barricade for you, someone to be in your corner when everyone else isn’t.”

You stared at him. “Why are you doing this?” 

He shrugged. “My mom gave out to me after she saw your win and the fact that I wasn’t there.”

You nodded, a flat smile on your face. “Great, good for you.” 

“So, friends?” he asked. 

“No. Thanks though. Can you close the door on your way out?” 

He got up and sighed. “I’m not letting this go,” he told you.

“You should,” you advised. “I’m very stubborn.”

“I know,” he smiled. “But so am I.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

In Canada, Oscar didn’t leave you alone all weekend. He ate lunch with you, speaking only about racing the entire time, though you did end up talking about his family for a little bit, and you found out he had 3 sisters. You told him that made sense, and he laughed. He walked with you everywhere, talking about the track or something to do with the car. It was nice. Not as nice as your pre-race playlist, though. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

In Spain you two went and got dinner while the rest of the team celebrated Lando getting P2, while you were in P1. He stayed true to his word, and after this win you even let him hug you at the barrier.

“Why didn’t you call anyone after your win in Monaco?” he asked after you’d both had a little bit too much wine and you were both a bit loose-lipped. 

“No one to call,” you shrugged.

“Family?”

You chuckled. “They don't care. I haven’t spoken to them in years.”

“But you’re 22?” he reminded you. 

“When I went to F3 and moved to England, they cut me off,” you explained. 

“I’m sorry-”

You waved a hand. “It’s fine. It’s just like that for some people. Tell me about your family,” you prompted. 

God, Oscar could talk for hours if someone let him. You wondered why people thought he was an introvert, he talked all the time. 

It was nice. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

The next few races went by in a blur of points and shitty team meetings. Oscar did what he said he would though, he stood at the barrier after every race with a smile and a hand shake, with congratulations on his lips. 

You accepted them, maybe still a bit disconnected from him, but as Spa rolled around, and you rolled 8 times because of a mistake Lando had made, you were thankful that he’d been the one to ride with you in the ambulance. You’d pulled 60G. You had a bad concussion and some broken ribs. He waited with you all day, listening to everything the doctors said and taking notes for your trainer (your new trainer, he’d somehow convinced Richard to quietly leave. Maisie, your new trainer was much nicer), and sat there, watching you all night. 

When you woke up with his hand in your hand, you felt… safer. You weren’t as weary as you had been. Some part of you trusted him. 

“You’re awake,” he yawned. “Morning.”

“You stayed here?” you questioned. He nodded.  

“I was hardly going to leave you alone,” he scoffed. 

“Thank you,” you said, sincere for once. 

“No problem,” he smiled.  

And you felt something you hadn’t left for a long time. 

You felt cared for. 

It was strange, but it was wonderful. And it scared you.

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Oscar's POV:

He had to do something. He had to help you. That’s what he kept telling himself. He got Richard to leave and stop with his ED bullshit, he got Maisie, a new trainer who would actually care about you. He stuck up for you in every team meeting, getting on Zak’s nerves, but he didn’t care. 

He hadn’t been lying when he said his mom had given out to him. She’d reminded him that she hadn’t raised him to be an unkind, unjust person. She reminded him of your devastating radio messages in the Monaco GP when you apologised for winning. 

It sucked because she was right. He knew he’d been in the wrong for months and he knew it. He wanted to befriend you and help you. He wanted to support you, genuinely. He was putting his job on the line for it, for fuck’s sake. So he was going to. 

He somehow went through weekend after weekend, telling you small fun facts and talking your ear off for days at a time just so you could open up to him. He wanted to be there for you, so he became the most extroverted person he’d ever heard of. He talked more than Daniel, which was saying something. He listened to the same music you did, he ate with you, he listened to you when he spoke. 

And he enjoyed himself. You were great company. You were an interesting person. He liked making you laugh. He liked seeing you smile after a good race. He liked the fact that you went straight to him after a race. He liked your new tradition of getting an ice cream with him after a win. 

He liked you. 

So when he saw you flip 8 times in Spa of all places, his heart dropped. He’d been known to be a calm, collected, and stoic person. The way he screamed ‘fuck’ when you crashed was anything but calm, collected, or stoic. The way he spoke to you on the radio, begging you to answer him, he wasn’t calm, he was terrified. 

When you answered, the sigh of relief he let out was anything but stoic. The way he sat in your hospital room with you the entire night, waking up to check that you were still breathing, that was anything but normal. 

He was falling for you. In some insane turn of events, his quest to become your friend had taken a nosedive. 

And he was fucked. 

He knew it because he couldn’t help but smile when you reached out for his hand as you slept, and his heart skipped a beat. 

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

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taglist: @smithieandy @anotherapollokid @amz824 @itgirlofthecenturysposts @lokideservesahug @annaluna12

[kindestofkings]

what came first, the chicken or the dickhead?

[smau]

f1driver!reader x lando norris (eventually, friends to lovers ofc)

authors note: this is so dramatic and for what! sorry to pierre for making you the villian, and lets pretend ferrari isnt as shit as it currently is! lol enjoy, would love to know what you think <333

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo and others

yourusername tough day in the office today, mexico '22 is just not to be I guess. As always a learning curve and we will grow from todays DNF 😞

See you soon Brazil !!

view all 500 comments

ynfan1 we are still so proud of you! keep pushing 👍

f1fan this is literally what you get for trying to compete in a MALE sport

f1fan2 fr she's bringing down pierre and the team f1fan3 too emotional for the big leagues ynfan2 stfu you do realise your favourite MALE drivers dnf all the time aswell

alphataurif1 we come back stronger!!

yourusername 👊👊

alex_albon lily is wondering would going for ice cream cheer you up?

yourusername I love her, yes please 🥹 landonorris I'm coming yourusername nuh huh its for us pointless drivers! landonorris come on it was only 2..

f1fan4 lando norizz trying to make it a double date lollll

f1fan5 bro chill these two have been friends since literal birth

alphataurif1

liked by yourusername and others

alphataurif1 the difference 2 weeks can make! our girl yourusername is starting pole position on sunday here in brazil 🔥

view all 150 comments

yourusername woohoo roll on sunday!!

ynfan1 go bestie go !

ynfan2 AT moving up💪

yourusername

liked by landonorris and others 

yourusername great work achieved today, the car and track felt good. hopefully we can convert this position into some points to finish of the season on a high, all we need is team work on the track (and for max's alarm to not go off so he misses the race 😀)

view all 290 comments 

maxverstappen1 why the personal attack

yourusername WHY do you have to win every week, surely you are bored by it by now ... charles_leclerc I agree, maybe take a week off? f1fan2 hahah these two i'm obsessed

landonorris please do well but not TOO well, just stay behind me 👍

yourusername and look at your ass all race? hard pass

ynfan1 that mention of teamwork is a lil suss...

ynfan2 not really?? it is a team sport ynfan1 yeah but do you not find it weird how unfriendly yourusername and pierregasly are, despite them being on the same team? f1fan tbf I have always noticed how forced their videos are together. and they dont even follow each other

yourusername

liked by landonorris and others 

yourusername lollll ruining my career one interview at a time, but at least we hit the clubs looking fire 🔥

p.s. I stand by what I've said I only have apologies for two people 1) my pr manager (who I dont pay enough for this) and 2) charles for linking your name to this hot mess!

view all 660 comments

landonorris it's so great being the unproblematic one 😎

yourusername does mcclaren need another golden driver from bristol??? I fear im out of a seat soon .. ynfan1 this is so sad you are way to talented of a driver to be out of a suit

charles_leclerc No worries 😅 Just make sure you buy me dinner next time before dragging me into the chaos. 🍽️🤷‍♂️

yourusername you got it prince of monaco! f1fan2 PLEASE PLEASE DATE ynfan2 ewww no her and lando are so so in love they're just too blind and stupid

danielricciardo absolute legend behaviour mate!!

yourusername learning from the best danny ric 😎

alphataurif1 and yourusername

Liked by landonorris and others

alphataurif1 From grid battles to glory laps! 🏁✨ Our unstoppable driver just clinched her FIRST WIN at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix! 🏆 Watch out, world – she's rewriting the history books and leaving her mark on the track. 🚀🌟

#AlphaQueen #AbuDhabiWinner

view all 444 comments

danielricciardo What a race! Big congrats, yourusername. That first win feeling is something else! Enjoy every moment!

alex_albon: absolutely smashed it! huge congratulations on your first win!

carlossainz55 felicidades!!

susie_wolff: breaking barriers and making history! huge congratulations on your first win!

yourusername AHHHHH I CANT BELIEVE IT ! I LOVE YOU TEAM !!

ynfan1 lando where is your congrats you are slippinnn!!

landonorris

Liked by yourusername and others

landonorris I've never been this happy to lose, but it's pretty cool seeing your best friend win in her rookie year. EVEN if she beaten me to it 😞

view all 150 comments

yourusername LANDOOOO you are a the bestest friend ever

yourusername would not have gotten here with out you, my partner in crime <3

ynfan1 best friend?? y'all are still so blind

f1fan everytime you call her your best friend you reaffirm the lando NORIZZ name

danielricciardo facts alex_albon facts carlossainz55 facts charles_leclerc facts yukitsunoda0511 facts maxverstappen1 facts landonorris CAN YOU SHUT UP

scuderiaferrari

liked by landonorris and others

scuderiaferrari oh we thought we should just let you know our driver line up for 2023 👀 say hello to the dynamic addition to the Ferrari family, the wonderfully feisty yourusername! get ready for a season full of speed, passion, and fierce competition. Welcome to Maranello! 🇮🇹

view all 700 comments 

ynfan1 HOLY F*CK

susie_wolff wow congrats yourusername!! wishing you all the best !

yourusername thank you so much susie! your advice the last few weeks has help me so much ! ynfan1 I love when girls support girls 💓

yourusername can't wait to get started! forza ferrari ❤️❤️

charles_leclerc this is going to be incredible! congrats !!

yourusername thank you charles <33 be prepared to be sick of me lol ynfan1 so happy shes got a teammate who acc is a decent guy

ynfan2 LOLLLL I bet pierre is sick

landonorris slayed 💅

yourusername 😂😂 f1fan watch out mr norizz her new teammate is mr steal-your-girl

[changetyre]

Grid Uncles Ⓢ

SUMMARY: Max brings his first daughter to the grid for the first time and it doesn't go exactly as he imagined. Part of the Verstappen Family Verse

WARNINGS: None? Too much fluff.

A/N: This was requested over to me on Wattpad and it's a series I've expanded on over there which I thought to bring over to tumblr since I love it so much ;)

"But what about this one? You love wearing this one because it looks like Papa right?" Max held up the tiny Red Bull shirt in his hands. 

You laughed watching your daughter giggle laughing at her dad too adamant about wearing her orange McLaren shirt gifted to her by her uncle Wando as she called him still having trouble pronouncing her Ls. 

"What even is this? My own daughter cheering for the rival team?" Max turned to you. 

You shrugged. "You made her a fan, she picked a team, now deal with the consequences." 

"Papa up." Your daughter giggled making grabby hands at her dad too oblivious to how offended he was with her choice of attire. 

Max had been waiting for this day for the longest time, the day he'd finally be able to take his first daughter to work with him. When Lea was born you'd agreed that you would wait until she was at least 2 to take her to a race and since she turned 2 just before the Monaco GP Max thought it was the best race to take her being home. If she got too overwhelmed you'd agreed that you'd walk her back home and have her watch the race from your balcony like you'd done the year before. 

Cherishing every moment Max had with her Lea hadn't yet met the other drivers except for Daniel (Lea's godfather), Lando, and Checo who had been amazing at helping Max navigate the nerves of being a first-time parent. 

But practically from the day Lea was born, Max had put on races for her, despite the fact she couldn't physically watch them yet he put them on and you'd noticed that when Max was away for races Lea would find comfort in watching races stopping her from crying when she was having rough days. 

So Lea was beyond excited even though you were almost sure she hadn't quite grasped this sport's magnitude. Yes, Lea would watch Max on TV putting on his helmet and driving around and shouting Papa whenever he or his car would appear on screen but besides that, she truly had no idea about the other aspects of it, the loud noises and the crowds you were extremely nervous about. 

"Ready to go, love?" Max walked to you holding your daughter in his arms. 

"Ye-" 

"Yes, papa go." Lea interrupted answering the question as if it was meant for her. 

"I'm papa's love Lea." You spoke to your daughter. 

"No mama! My papa." Lea furrowed her brows wrapping her tiny arms around Max's neck possesively. 

Max laughed and your jaw dropped 'offended' at your daughter's attitude. This had been a problem for the last couple of weeks Lea suddenly became incredibly possessive of Max, not liking when you would hug or kiss and she would get jealous and upset when she caught you doing anything of the sort. 

"She's a daddy's girl just like her mom." Max joked. 

"MAX!" you slapped his shoulder gasping loudly. 

"NO MAMA!" Lea shouted at you upset for hurting her papa. "No hit papa." She started sniffling. 

"Lea I'm sorry Papa said something naughty but I shouldn't have hit him." You tried to comfort your daughter. 

"Papa okay?" Lea cupped Max's cheeks in her tiny hands. 

Max faked a pout. "Papa's okay baby," Max reassured his daughter who turned to glare at you with a pout just like her dad's. 

"Okay, big babies why don't we go before I make anyone else upset." You rolled your eyes at the antics. 

____________

"You ready?" Max asked you, looking back at you sitting at the back with Lea through the rearview mirror. 

You sighed. "Ready as I'll ever be." despite it being a short way for your and Lea's protection Max had decided to drive into the track. You unstrapped Lea from her seat and waited for Max to come around and open the door for you. 

As soon as he walked out there were already multiple screams and camera flashes calling for his attention. Max opened the car door and took Lea into his arms extending his other arm to help you out and shut the door behind you. 

Max kept a tight grip on you and Lea as you walked into the paddock, luckily Max had asked for extra security and they were closely around you preventing fans and cameramen from getting close to your family. 

"Papa." Lea got upset at all the camera flashes and screams for her dad's name burying her face into her dad's neck. 

"It's okay baby we're almost there." Max started questioning himself, was it a bad idea to bring Lea into a race already? 

You made it into the paddock fairly quickly and you could see Lea's head perk up. "PAPA Unco WANDO!" Lea screamed in joy recognizing the logo from the McLaren building further ahead. 

"We'll see him later Lea." Max laughed cheering up at his daughter's joy. 

She was about to get upset again as you walked into the Redbull motorhome but lucky for you someone came to save the day before Lea could start throwing a tantrum. 

"Oh my god!" Even if he wasn't right around the corner that loud laughter could be heard from a mile away. "Is that my favorite goddaughter?" Daniel asked loudly getting Lea's attention. 

"DANNNYYY!" Lea screamed squirming in her dad's arms as she tugged to get down. 

Max winced at the sharp scream in his ear before placing her down and letting her wobble the rest of the way to her godfather. 

"She's your only goddaughter Daniel." Max reminded his best friend. 

"That's why she's my favorite." Dani's smile looked wider than usual as Lea wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. 

"Yeah well, you're not her favorite." Max was still offended by her choice of attire. 

"Uh, Lea what's this?" Daniel took in her attire. 

"Unco Wando." She clapped excitedly. 

Daniel turned to look at you both disappointed. "You guys obviously didn't meet her expectations she had to be a fan of someone else." You joked. 

"AHHHH PAPA CAR!" Lea screamed excitedly once more as she noticed the 2 cars sitting in the garage. 

"Hello, princess." Checo walked over after hearing Lea's loud personality. 

"Unco Cheto!" Lea smiled high-fiving Checo who held his hand up high for her, he then greeted you and Max. 

"Has she had the tour yet?" Checo asked. 

"Not quite yet, just got her but am planning to do so now." Max smiled excitedly. 

"Lea why don't we go explore?" You asked your daughter still in Dani's arms looking around at everything, her mind must have been working overtime trying to make sense of all the screens, people, and noises. 

She nodded extending her arms and letting herself fall forward into your arms. "We'll see you guys later." You waved goodbye to Dani and Checo for now as you stepped into pitlane to walk along the garages which were still closed for fans and there were only a few cameramen around. 

You started walking down and Charles was the first to spot you. "Oh hello!" Charles walked over greeting Max before greeting you with a kiss on each cheek and finally pinching Lea's cheeks who suddenly got all shy and flustered, her face growing red. 

"Lea say hi." you laughed at her shy personality coming out which was rare in her. 

"hi." She giggled before burying herself in your neck. I guess she wasn't immune to Charles Leclerc's charm either. 

"Lea this is Charles." Max tried to get his daughter to interact. 

"I'm Wea." She finally pried herself away from your body but still avoided Charles's eyes. 

"Wow, what a beautiful name." Charles complimented her which caused her to go into another fit of giggles, you thought it was hilarious but you could see Max didn't find it quite as amusing. Before he could say anything Carlos had appeared. 

"Is this Lea?" Carlos asked excitedly. 

"Yes, it is." You smiled proudly. 

"Wow, hi darling I'm Carlos." He extended his hand.

"Hello." She extended her tiny hand letting him shake it. 

Carlos wasn't able to say much else before her absolute favorite person appeared a few seconds later. 

Everyone was startled covering their ears as Lea let out yet another even louder screech at watching Lando come out of his garage. "UNCO WANDOOOOO" She squirmed in your arms. 

You couldn't let go of her here because of all the cables and machinery around but as soon as Lando heard her yells he didn't hesitate to run over. 

"Wow, that explains the shirt." Carlos laughed. 

As soon as Lando was closer you finally put Lea down who ran with all her might up to her uncle. "My baby." Lando scooped Lea up into his arms. 

"Unco wando," Lea said in the most love-filled tone hugging Lando before laying her head down over his shoulder making everyone aww at the action. 

"I missed you so much." He whispered to her as he walked closer to the group that had formed. 

"wook!" Lea showed him her shirt proudly. 

"Wow, who got you that?" He gasped surprised. 

"You." She laughed at her uncle's antics. 

"Lea, do you want one like this?" Charles asked her pointing at his own shirt. 

"Lea's face went red again this time she hid in Lando's neck. She still nodded fiddling with her shirt nervously. 

"What's this about?" Lando asked unamused too. 

"I think someone has a little crush on Charles." You laughed. 

"No one's allowed to give Lea their team shirt, she won't even wear mine." Max crossed his arms annoyed. "And you stay away from my daughter." Max pointed at Charles who put his hands up in surrender laughing as he walked back into his garage with Carlos.

Lea wouldn't leave Lando's arms now so you continued touring the garage with him, Lea met a few more drivers who all were happy to meet her, Lea especially liked meeting George and Alex but not for them but for their girlfriends who happily played with Lea. Alex and George knew they were in trouble as now their girlfriend's baby fever was high. 

"You have a beautiful family." Daniel patted Max on the back as they watched you placing Lea inside Max's car. 

Max nodded proudly, looking at his wife and daughter with so much love. "Might get a little bigger in a few months." Max broke the news. 

Daniel's head snapped over to his best friend.  "No way," Daniel whispered excitedly. 

Max's eyes beamed proudly just about making out the bump you hid with your puffy dress, watching as you subconsciously placed a hand on your stomach as you leaned down to your daughter's eye level. "Lea's gonna be a big sister," Max confirmed. 

"Congratulations man, you both are amazing parents." Daniel hugged his friend tightly. 

Once Max turned his attention back to you he saw your gaze was meeting his again. You blinked 3 times shutting your eyes a little tighter, a little sign you and Max had made years ago, a way to say I love you when he couldn't hear you over all the noise. Max repeated the action to you, but mouthing those three words to you anyway. 

Everyone might have thought winning a championship was the best feeling in the world for a man so dedicated to motorsports but being able to watch his daughter grow up with the love of his life...he'd give up his entire career just to see that every day. 

[azsazz]

Off Grid

Azriel x Reader [Formula One AU]

Summary: Ferrari has signed on rookie driver Dorian Havilliard. Azriel must learn to navigate the 2024 season with a new teammate and his secret relationship, with you, who just so happens to be the team’s media trainer.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2,109

Notes: This one goes out to @moosemahboi for the ask this morning 😏 enjoy 😉 (idk why I can’t tag u but hopefully you see this)

Also, sorry if the formatting looks like shit I’m posting this from my phone. I busted this out so fast tho whoops

_________________________________________

“Azriel, how are you feeling knowing that Ferrari has signed young Dorian Havilliard for the 2024 season?” The reporter asks, sitting eagerly on the edge of his seat. He has his phone out, recording Azriel’s responses. The man has been hanging onto every word Azriel has said; him and the other thirty journalists eager to pester him, all cramped within the small room.

Beside him, Cassian snickers under his breath, all too obviously happy that he’s not the one who must suffer this torturous questioning. Azriel refrains from rolling his eyes at the absurdity of it all. Well, it’s not absurd but it feels like it because it’s been the only question anyone seems to care about right now, they no longer care to ask how the new chassis feels, what his thoughts are about the new Las Vegas race added to the schedule, how he’s projected to be one of the top drivers this season. Was supposed to be one of the top performing drivers of the season. Ever since Ferrari leaked that Dorian Havilliard is making his debut with the team for the first race, it’s been a feeding frenzy for the media, trying to be the first to glean insider information about the fresh meat.

“I think he’ll make a great addition to the team,” is all Azriel offers in response.

He’s hot and sweaty from practice and being blinded by flashes of cameras that don’t seem to be stopping anytime soon isn’t helping his mood in the slightest. It’s the part of his job that he despises the most. All Azriel wants to do is drive, because nothing feels as good as the adrenaline when he’s behind the wheel, but right now all he wants is to go home, not respond to million questions he’s already answered too many times before. And to be honest, he’s kind of pissed about Ferrari signing Dorian Havilliard and nixing Rowan Whitethorn, who has signed on to be McLaren’s first seat after Aedion Ashryver’s accident at the final race of the 2023 season that sent him into early retirement.

There’s a beat of silence, and when it’s clear he has nothing else to say about the matter, someone else pops up from their seat and another question is hurled his way. “And what about your former teammate, Rowan Whitethorn? How is he taking the news of losing his seat to Havilliard?”

The urge to roll his eyes into his fucking skull is so great he almost doesn’t stop it, but the last thing he needs is the team’s media trainer on his case about the appropriate ways to conduct himself during media panels, no matter how pretty she is.

They should be asking this question to Rowan or even Dorian, whenever he begins press for the upcoming season.

“Rowan understands,” he tries to hide the sour tone in his voice. Azriel and Rowan have been driving together for the past three seasons and it’s been one of the best experiences he’s had with a teammate in Formula 1. He knows the constructors are too worried about placing him on the same team as Rhysand or Cassian, who he grew up with at karting school. They’re like brothers and they act like it too, but if they were on the same team the rivalries would feel even more drastic than they already are. “He’s a good driver and talent like his isn’t going away anytime soon.”

Rowan’s new teammate, Hunt Athalar, nods from Azriel’s other side. He and Cassian seem to be enjoying not being pestered with surface-level questions, and Azriel wishes that he was feeling the same.

With a few more unnecessary queries about Dorian, press finally ends. He, Hunt, and Cassian are escorted from the room, the trail of flashes and conversation starting up clinging to his back as he walks.

“Fucking hell,” Azriel mutters to Cassian, who jabs him in the side with a snigger once they’re cleared the room, the door shutting with a loud click behind them. “I hate these interviews.”

“Don’t need to tell me that, mate,” he laughs wholeheartedly, and Azriel glares. “I’m pretty sure everyone can tell. Might want to learn to act like you like it, though. Ferrari won’t keep you if your attitude sucks. But I’m sure that media trainer of yours is about to hunt you down and tell you the same thing.”

Azriel frowns. He thought he’d done a pretty good job at deflecting the questions about his new teammate.

“People like me for me,” Azriel shrugs, defending himself. He’s never been a bullshitter, no matter how badly his team has wanted him to be. This is what the people get, 100% Azriel, take it or leave it. And Ferrari has decided to take it, for the last three seasons. The second half of his sentence is drowned out as Cassian’s snickering becomes full-bodied laughter. “And my trophies speak for themselves.” He doesn’t mean to come off as cocky, but he’d rather be authentically himself than a puppet to the media.

Cassian shakes his head, wiping the nonexistent tears from the corners of his eyes. “No, people like me for me,” he winks at Azriel’s glare. “They like you because you’re a decent driver.”

Azriel’s nose crinkles. “Decent? My car is projected to perform even better than Rhys’ this year!”

They three drivers turn down a hall, nodding to the two Haas drivers they pass: Bron and Hart.

“We’ll see, won’t we, Athalar?” Cassian cranes his neck around Azriel, directing the question to the silent driver on his other side. Hunt and Azriel have never been close, but the angel of McLaren offers a genuine smile in response.

“Should be a good season, boys.” Azriel and Cassian share a look. A perfect media-trained answer, Hunt gave. The other driver turns off down another hall, “See you later.”

“What a weirdo,” Cassian mutters once Hunt has disappeared from sight. “Good luck to Ro, having to deal with that.”

Azriel finally rolls his eyes like he’s been wanting to do since he left the press room. “Yeah, and I’m the asshole.”

Cassian huffs and the pair of drivers stop at the end of the hall where it splits to go to their respective driver rooms.

“I’ll see you later, man.”

“Hopefully in a better mood, Azzy,” Cassian chuckles and dips down the hall before Azriel can toss another glare or remark at him.

Shaking his head, Azriel returns to his driver room. He’s going to grab his things and get the fuck out of here, because relaxing at his hotel sounds much better than waiting around here any longer.

A knock on the door interrupts his actions, and Azriel wonders why the Mother fails to grace him with one sliver of luck today.

“Come in,” he grunts, snagging his water from where he left it on top of the desk.

You enter the room with your phone and clipboard in your hands. You’re typing on your phone, fingers flying across the screen as you reply to another email. The water does nothing to quench Azriel’s suddenly dry throat.

He can’t help the way his eyes drag down your body with your attention on your phone, drinking in the sight of you in your pressed pants and professional button up shirt. There’s a lanyard around your neck with your Ferrari employee access printed on it and he wants to wrap his fist around the strap and—

Wherever his mind was drifting off to is completely shattered by your piercing eyes. He hasn’t had enough time to prepare for your apparent annoyance at his attitude during the press conference. You don’t look happy, and neither is his name as it rolls from your lips in a disappointed manner. “Azriel.” You step further into the room. “What the hell was that out there? You know you can’t—”

Your rant is cut off as Azriel consumes the space between you in two long strides, leaning in to slant his lips over yours, eating up your words. You can’t help but to melt into it a little, a lot when his tongue traces the seam of your lips and you part for him, brushing up against your tongue in a sensual move.

When he straightens, you’re panting and a bit flushed. Arousal burns through your body like petrol on the track, but you steel yourself against that fire in his eyes, all ready to light you up.

“Not even going to say hello before you start in on me?” Azriel asks, licking his lips. Your eyes follow the motion, and he smirks. The way his body is pressed up against yours and the firm grip of his hands on your hips threatens to distract you further, especially when his red racing suit is slung around his waist, leaving him in that tight, black long sleeve that contours around his lithe body perfectly.

“No,” you agree, and he frowns. “I’m upset with you.”

“Was it something I said?” He cringes at his own lame attempt at a joke, ducking from your serious gaze. “‘M sorry, I’m just sick of all the Dorian questions. They’re not asking anything about the season or the car, only how I feel about a rookie taking Rowan’s seat.”

You ache for him, you really do, but things like this happen in the sport and he’s been in it long enough now that Azriel should know better than to act like this. You can admit, Rowan had been an asset to Ferrari and to Azriel, wriggling his way under the stoic driver’s skin like a worm, burrowing deep into his heart.

“Az, you need to stop playing it like Dorian took his seat on purpose,” you console gently, “We both know that it was Rowan’s time, and he couldn’t resist what McLaren might’ve proposed.”

“I know, I know,” Azriel replies unhappily, retreating to perch on the arm of the small couch. He can accept it, but he doesn’t like it, preferring to blame the new driver instead. “I don’t want to deal with that little punk,” he groans, because the thought of putting up with a cocksure rookie tires him. “Coming in here thinking he owns the damn place.”

“Azriel,” you tut, rolling your eyes. You put a hand on your hip. “That was literally you four years ago.”

“It’s different,” he mutters, but you both know that it’s not.

You abandon your phone and clipboard on the desk in the room before standing between his parted thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck. His damp hair is slicked back but a strand falls across his forehead and he looks really good like this, head tilted upwards, gold eyes painted with false innocence.

“Why don’t you, instead of being Dorian’s enemy, you become his ally?” You ask softly, fingering the hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Because that’s not how the team works, baby,” Azriel sighs, enjoying the way you’re scratching his skin. He wants to lean forward and rest his head in the crook of your neck, maybe take a cat nap or nip at the skin there. “We might drive for the same team, but I’m not looking to be the supporting driver.”

Fuck that. There’s no way he’s letting a rookie take his seat when he’s worked his ass off since he received it. He’s been driving for Ferrari since he first got an in the sport, four years ago. He fought tooth and nail to work up from second seat to first, and Azriel will be damned if Dorian rips it from under him in one season.

“Your jealousy is showing,” you tease your boyfriend a little, poking him on the nose. You know you shouldn’t be doing this, hanging all over each other when anyone could walk into the room, but you can’t resist your draw to Azriel. “It’s not as endearing as it is when you’re jealous that I’m talking to one of the engineers.”

“Don’t remind me,” Azriel grunts, eyes hardening a little. “You’re mine and I don’t like to share.”

You snort, “That much is clear, babe,” you step out of his arms and miss the heat of his body already. You collect your things from the desk and return to him for a quick kiss. You shoot him a final knowing look, dodging his attempts at capturing you against his chest again. “Work on it, Azriel. I mean it.”

He salutes you as you open the door to slip out. “Yes ma’am.”

It shuts quietly behind you and Azriel slumps back onto the couch, sighing.

It’s going to be a long season.

_________________________________________

@iambored24601 @secretlyhers @kylaisra @daily-dose-of-sass wasn’t sure but figured u might want to see this one 😅

[cutielando]

surprise | drew starkey

synopsis: in which Drew surprises you at one of your races

a/n: based on this request!

pairing: drew starkey x f1 racer!girlfriend

my masterlist

"I miss you" you whispered into the phone, your eyes stuck on the hotel room ceiling.

"I miss you too, darling" Drew's voice echoed through the phone, bringing a sad smile to your face.

The room was silent, the buzz of the track long gone as the late hours of the night rolled around.

The city lights of Abu Dhabi illuminated your dark room, casting a cold glow over your body.

The final race of the season was finally there, and you were so excited to finally finish the season on a high.

But still, something wasn't quite right.

Drew wasn't there with you.

He had to do some interviews for his new movie, "Queer", and couldn't attend the race. But even though you understood the demands of his job, you couldn't help the sadness that settled in the pit of your stomach.

"I wish you were here with me" you said, absentmindedly playing with the necklace he had given you for your 2 year anniversary.

Drew sighed, missing you just as much as you were missing him.

But slightly less, because he had booked a flight to come and see you as early as tomorrow, right before the race started.

"I know, I wish I was there with you to watch you be crowned World Champion" he said, teasing you a little with a smile on his face.

You laughed, knowing he was right.

After an amazing season, filled with multiple victories and even more podiums, you would finally be crowned World Champion after tomorrow's race.

Drew knew very well that becoming World Champion had been your dream ever since you were a little girl. It was precisely the reason why he had decided to reschedule his interviews and fly out to be with you during this moment in your career.

He couldn't wait to see the look on your face when you'd see him.

"Isn't it late over there?" Drew asked, after a few seconds in which neither of you said anything.

You looked over at the clock on your bedside table, the numbers illuminating 2:32 am.

"Yeah, it's half past 2 in the morning" you said, the tiredness of the full day slowly starting to catch up to you.

Drew huffed, knowing that you have to get some rest for tomorrow.

"You should get some rest, love. You need to be focused for tomorrow" he said, his voice soft.

You sighed, knowing he was probably right, but at the same time, you didn't want to hang up.

You wanted to keep talking to him, no matter what.

"But we barely had time to talk today" you said, your voice small.

Drew knew how sad you were, but he also knew you needed an incentive to actually start thinking about you and the race ahead.

He sighed, a smile tugging at his lips as he stood in the airport first-class bathroom, hoping you wouldn't pick up on the chatter outside the doors and realize he wasn't home where he was supposed to be.

"I know, and I'm sorry. But you know how it is, we're both busy right now. We'll see each other when you get back, and we'll make up for lost time. But you need to focus on tomorrow so you can show everyone just how amazing you are and win this championship" he said, his heart squeezing at the fact that he's going to see you soon enough.

You groaned, burying your face into your pillow.

Despite not wanting to admit it, you knew he was right. The tiredness from the day was catching up with you, your eyelids now heavy and your limbs sore.

"Okay. You're right. Talk in the morning?" you asked, your voice tired, but hopeful.

Drew chuckled, which warmed your heart and made it long with desire to see him soon.

"Yeah, text me when you wake up. I love you, good luck tomorrow" he said, his voice warm.

"I love you too" you said, your voice drowsy.

Drew smiled as he waited on the phone for a couple more minutes, listening to your breathing get slower and slower until he was sure you had fallen asleep.

He whispered a quiet 'I'll see you tomorrow' and blew you a kiss before he finally hung up, stuffing his phone in his pocket as he went back to the main lounge, counting down the minutes until his flight would take off and he would be a step closer to getting to Abu Dhabi.

A step closer to seeing you.

♡♡♡♡♡

Morning rolled around, your alarm blaring throughout the spacious hotel room.

You groaned as you stretched your arm and blindly tried to find your phone, desperate to get a little more sleep.

“Where the fuck is it” you grumbled under your breath, lifting your head to search for your phone through bleary and sleepy eyes.

Once you finally got a hold of your phone, you immediately disabled your alarm, falling backwards against the pillows once again.

You were tired, your limbs felt heavy, your eyelids were refusing to stay open for more than a couple of seconds at a time.

Maybe staying up late to talk to Drew wasn't your brightest idea, especially before a big race like Abu Dhabi.

After spending a couple of more minutes with your eyes closed, you finally decided to get up and start the day.

Grabbing your phone from the nightstand, you unlocked it and quickly texted Drew a good morning text.

You frowned a little when there was no reply from him, seeing as he usually always responded to you as quickly as he could.

Shrugging it off, you slowly got ready and met up with your personal trainer to make your way to the track.

Still frowning because Drew hasn’t texted you at all.

"Have you heard from Drew today? I texted him this morning but he hasn't replied to any of my texts" you asked Lizzie, your personal assistant.

Lizzie stilled for a moment, but quickly recovered and shook her head, giving you a sympathetic smile.

Unbeknownst to you, she knew about Drew's plans to surprise you, and knew he was currently on a flight to Abu Dhabi.

"No, sorry. I'm sure he's just caught up with interviews and doesn't have his phone on him" she said, at which you nodded.

Maybe she was right.

Or maybe she was downright lying and he was currently minutes away from landing in Dubai.

Only time will tell.

♡♡♡♡♡

"You're due in the car in 15 minutes" Lizzie announced as she stuck her head in your driver's room.

You smiled at her and thanked her, turning your attention back to your phone. You sighed, opening the iMessage app for what felt like the thousandth time in the past hour.

Drew still hadn't texted you, which was really nothing like him to not be in touch for so long.

What if something had happened to him? What if he got into an accident or something? What if he needed your help and you had no idea where he was?

Dozens of dark thoughts were clouding your mind, each more somber and dangerous than the previous one.

Where was he? Why wasn’t he answering you?

Your fingers were hovering over your keyboard once again, thinking about sending Drew just one more text before you really started freaking the fuck out.

But just as you were about to start typing out a message, there was a soft knock on the door.

"Yes?" you called out, your eyes fixated on the door.

There was no answer, but the door slowly started to open.

And then, your whole demeanor perked up instantly. There, standing in the doorway of your driver's room, in Abu Dhabi, was Drew in the flesh.

He sported a wide smile as he stood there, a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers clutched in his arms.

Tears started welling up in your eyes as your eyes found his, looking at you with so much love and longing for all the weeks you had spent apart until now.

"Please tell me I'm not dreaming right now" you said, your bottom lip trembling and your voice croaked with emotion.

Drew smiled and hung his head low, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

"I'm here, baby" his husky voice filled the small room, and that was it for you.

You quickly stood up and practically launched yourself in his arms, your head filled with nothing but love and gratitude for the man standing right in front of you.

Your head was buried in the crook of his neck, and you were inhaling his scent, that scent that could make you weak in the knees in no more than a second.

His arms were holding onto you tightly, the flower bouquet now completely forgotten about laying on the floor next to your little sofa.

"I missed you so much" you whispered, squeezing your eyes and letting the tears fall on his shoulder.

"Shh, I'm here now" he cooed, cradling the back of your head with his big hand.

The feeling couldn't be put into words, no matter how hard you would try. You had missed him so much, missed having him close to you, missed sleeping beside him every single night, missed his kisses and his lingering soft touches.

You had missed everything about him.

"I hope you know you're in trouble for not answering my texts all day and making me worried sick about you" you mumbled, your voice muffled by the collar of his jacket.

Drew laughed, his chest rumbling against yours.

"I know, I'm sorry" he said, kissing a spot beneath your ear, which had his breath tickling the side of your exposed neck.

You didn't even care that you had to be in the car in now probably less than 5 minutes.

The car could wait.

You were too focused on Drew to care about anything else.

But another knock on the door seemed to want to ruin your plans completely.

"Who is it?" you called out, still holding onto Drew tightly, not ever wanting to let him go.

"It's me" Lizzie called out from outside your room. "I'm sorry to break you guys up, but we need you in the car, the race is starting in 10 minutes" she said, which made you internally groan.

For a split second, it had felt like the race could be forgotten. That you could just skip everything you had to do that day now that Drew was with you.

But reality was knocking on your door (in the form of Lizzie) and telling you that it didn't quite work like that.

You still had a championship to win.

"Go, I'll be in the garage cheering you on" Drew said, pecking your cheek before slowly unwrapping his arms from your waist.

"Thank you for coming here. I love you" you said, taking his hand in your hands and pressing your lips against his.

The kiss told him everything that you couldn't put into words. How much you had missed him, how much you loved him and how grateful you were that he was there with you.

"I love you too. Now go, before your engineers have my head for making you late" he said as soon as you pulled away, giving your ass a small pat as he shooed you out of the room.

You smiled cheekily at him and took your helmet, pecking his lips one more time before you followed Lizzie to your car.

Let the show begin, you thought.

♡♡♡♡♡

You didn’t even remember how you had managed to finish the race due to the tears that had been streaming down your face from the final 5 laps of the race.

And then when you finally crossed the finish line in first place, you couldn’t remember ever feeling so happy and emotional because of a race ever before.

Adrenaline was coursing through your veins as the reality of being world champion started to settle in your mind, but your mind was focused on one thing and one thing only.

Seeing Drew.

As soon as you parked the car in front of the “1st place” sign, you jumped up and ran straight to him, waiting for you with your team at the barriers.

You scrambled to get out of the car as soon as you possibly could, desperate to throw yourself in his arms and finally let your emotions run wild.

"Drew!" you yelled out as soon as you got out of the car, abandoning your helmet and balaclava somewhere on the floor.

You broke out into a run, ignoring every single camera or reporter that had been waiting for you.

Drew smiled and jumped over the barriers, outstretching his arms just at the right time as you crashed into him, your hands wrapping tightly around his neck and your head resting on his shoulder.

“I’m so proud of you” he whispered into your ear, kissing your cheek and cradling the back of your head.

You chuckled and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of being with Drew after you had just achieved the biggest milestone of your career.

“Thank you for being my lucky charm” you said quietly, squeezing him a tad tighter than before.

Drew smiled and pulled away from the hug, cupping your face in his hands and crashing his lips against yours.

It was a messy kiss, very rushed and sweaty, but neither of you really cared at that point. Just being with each other was enough in that moment, nothing else mattered except the two of you in the middle of the busy post-race paddock.

And with flashes going off all around you, you let yourself be carried away by your boyfriend, basking in the glory of having just made history.

And having Drew by your side while doing it.

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[aeribbon]

target acquired | oscar piastri

summary; part two here the only thing more dangerous than your job is dating an f1 driver in secret and oh...! oscar is just trying to survive lando's gossip group chat

featuring; f1driver!oscar piastri x bau agent!f!reader

fc; yu jimin

warnings; english isn't my first language + not proof read YET !

an; requested here i tried lol i don't really know a lot about bau/fbi hope you like it !! i have my finals exams next week hurfezpIPFJ

navigation masterlist request

part two here

texts between lando, charles, carlos, george, ollie, pierre, max, alex → oscar

texts between oscar → you

instagram post

f1paddocktea - miami gp

liked by yourusername, yourfriend and 98k others !

f1paddocktea a mysterious girl was seen arriving at the paddock with a part of oscar's team and then headed to the mclaren motorhome ! could this be oscar's girlfriend 💌 ? if you have any more info please send us an email.

view all comments

username she didn’t even look lost. first time in the paddock and she knew where to go. that’s suspicious

username someone said she flashed a badge at some haters. IS THIS A JOKE

username this is giving criminal minds x drive to survive crossover energy and i’m living for it

username she's the badass girl we all want to be omg

username she gave the vibes of someone who has disarmed a man before. with one hand. while texting.

username we have nothing on her. no tagged pics. no pap shots. no soft launch. WHO IS SHE ??

username for real though, never seen someone with zero to none presence online this is so suspicious.

anonymouswagupdates unconfirmed but someone from hospitality said she “doesn’t eat during cases” WHAT DOES THAT MEAN 😭

username i saw her. black boots, dark sunglasses, zero expression. that’s not a random plus one, that’s a mission...

texts between charles, george, ollie and lando

instagram post

kymillman - miami gp

liked by lilymhe, oscarpiastri, yourusername and 298k others !

kymillman a first official appearance for oscar piastri and his girlfriend in the f1 paddock ahead of today's race !

view all comments

username DAMN

username nvm oscar i don't want you but YOUR GF ??

username never knew oscar had the game to pull of this beauty

username SO YOU’RE TELLING ME SHE’S BEEN IN THE PADDOCK THIS WHOLE TIME?? she's giving secret agent fr

landonorris what you know about that ?

oscarpiastri lando please behave

username she blinked and ferrari fumbled a strategy call. coincidence?? I THINK NOT.

username this explains the sudden confidence boost this season 😌

mclaren our driver’s safe and emotionally supported... and also heavily protected apparently

username she shows up and he wins once again ?? pls come to every race from now on

username YES PLEASE

georgerussell plot twist: oscar’s actually the emotional support boyfriend in this relationship

olliebearman be careful on your words with oscar she might come and get you

username i love how we are all acting as if she’s not here for the grid drama but she’s here to assess threat levels and kiss her man after podium.

username i meannnnnn

texts between lando, charles, carlos, george, ollie, pierre, max, alex → oscar

[sixeyesonathiel]

bet on blue — f1driver!gojo x gf!reader

fluff, meant to parallel free throws & figure drawings. there's just something so fine about gojo satoru going bonkers once the love of his life bets on him <3

you weren’t supposed to say it.

not like that.

not now—when the air still hums with anticipation, when the scent of engine oil and tire polish settles thick on the back of your tongue, when your heart’s already pounding like it knows what’s coming, trying to match the rhythm of countdowns and pit crew drills.

but you do.

because you can’t keep your mouth shut around him. because your skin still buzzes from watching him tear through the track like a man possessed. because there’s something so sharp and untouchable about the way he moves—fast, unrelenting, devastating—and it makes your chest ache with something too big to name.

because satoru gojo is the most terrifying and beautiful thing you’ve ever seen when he’s racing. and you were never any good at playing it safe.

“i bet on you.”

the words leave your mouth without ceremony, unpolished, tumbling clumsily into the space between you.

he's got his back to you, adjusting the straps on his helmet, his focus sharp as he readies himself for the race. the top of his fireproof suit is already unzipped, the fabric clinging to his torso as he shifts, every movement deliberate and calculated. the suit, darkened in spots where the sweat's started to settle, emphasizes the lean muscle of his frame. his hair is messy and damp, wild strands of white falling into his eyes, evidence of the heat and pressure he’s already been battling all morning.

his shoulders go still.

you don’t see his face at first, but you see the shift in him—like the gears in his head lock suddenly. like the whole world slams on the brakes. he turns slowly, glancing over one shoulder with narrowed eyes, the pale blue of them catching the light like fractured glass.

“what?”

you fold your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg, trying not to let your nerves show. your tongue presses hard against the inside of your cheek.

“like... sports betting,” you say, and your voice is too light, too nonchalant to be casual. “on today’s race. i put everything i had in savings on you.”

his jaw drops.

literally.

you watch the whole thing unfold like a slow-motion scene—the way his mouth opens slightly, the way his brows lift, how the color in his face flickers between confusion and horror. he looks like he just got slapped with a wet towel.

“you’re joking.”

you shake your head, biting down a grin. “nope.”

one beat. then another.

you can practically hear the static between you.

“you—are you insane?”

there’s genuine panic in his voice now, laced beneath the disbelief. he takes a step forward, then another—hands half-extended like he doesn’t know whether to shake you or pull you into his arms. finally, he grabs you by the shoulders, fingers curling into your jacket like he’s trying to keep you from evaporating.

his palms are hot. a little sweaty. a little trembling.

“you bet how much?”

you tilt your chin up, pride and nerves fighting for dominance. “ten thousand.”

his reaction is immediate and dramatic—his eyes widen, his lips part in shock, and he makes a noise that can only be described as a strangled gasp-scream hybrid. he spins away from you like he’s trying to physically escape the consequences of your words, dragging his hands through his hair until it’s sticking up in all directions.

“you WHAT—”

you dissolve into laughter. his horror is tangible, full-bodied, like it physically hurts him. he paces in frantic, looping circles, muttering to himself as if trying to rewrite the last thirty seconds.

“baby—do you have any idea how bad that is?” he finally exclaims, spinning back toward you with wild eyes. “what if i crash? what if the brakes lock up? what if some asshole takes me out on turn two again?”

you shrug. “then i go broke. and i sell feet pics.”

his face twists in agony. “NO!” he shouts, like you just proposed a blood ritual. “no, no, no—i’m going to win. i have to win now. i have to—i’m going to destroy everyone. i’m going to lap verstappen.”

“don’t think that’s possible on this circuit.”

he points a finger at you, accusatory. “i will make it possible.”

his eyes are blazing—like holy fire. and his hair, still spiked in wild directions, makes him look unhinged. like a beautiful lunatic.

you snort, watching the way his chest rises and falls with quick, shallow breaths. you reach up and touch his face, the pad of your thumb brushing just beneath his cheekbone. his skin is flushed and sticky, a thin sheen of sweat catching the light. he flinches slightly at your touch, like the gentleness startles him, then leans into it.

just for a second.

“you’re cute when you’re feral.” you murmur.

his eyes flutter shut briefly. like it grounds him. like you ground him.

you always do.

but he’s not cute on track.

he’s terrifying.

when the lights go out, he launches off the line like a missile.

you watch with your heart in your throat as he threads through corners with razor precision, faster than physics, faster than common sense. lap after lap, he pushes the car like it’s an extension of his will, shaving off milliseconds with each turn.

“manage pace.” his engineer warns.

he doesn’t even pretend to listen.

“you’re purple sectoring too aggressively.”

his voice crackles back, tight and low—“she bet ten thousand. i need more purple.”

the commentators laugh, but it’s a nervous kind of laughter. the kind that comes before something historic.

by lap fifteen, he’s broken the lap record. by twenty, the race record. by twenty-five, he’s leaving the field in the dust, overtaking cars like they insulted his ancestors.

he crosses the finish line thirty seconds ahead of p2.

the stands erupt. the commentators go breathless. the scoreboard lights up like a war won.

but none of that matters.

he’s already moving—yanking off gloves, hands shaking, helmet off and thrown somewhere onto the pit wall. his hair is soaked through with sweat now, sticking to his forehead and temples in wild strands.

the moment the car stops, he climbs out like it’s on fire. his boots hit the ground, and he’s running—ignoring the team, the cameras, the crowd.

you. he’s only looking at you.

amidst the roar of the crowd and the crackle of radio chatter, it’s like the rest of the world disappears. your eyes lock, and time stretches, the chaos around you fading into a blur. you’re still by the barrier, hands trembling against your mouth, eyes wide in disbelief. you can’t move, frozen in the instant. his gaze is all-consuming, like he's pulling you into his orbit.

he reaches you in four strides, swift and confident, the tension in his muscles unmistakable as he closes the distance between you.

“you—” he starts, voice hoarse from exertion, but then the words cut off, and without another word, he lifts you off the ground.

your feet leave the earth. your heart does too.

his grip is firm, his hands at your waist, and for a moment, you feel weightless. the adrenaline still vibrates through his body, and it sends a ripple of warmth through yours. his eyes, wide with disbelief, are only on you. there’s a mix of awe and frantic joy in his gaze as if he can’t quite believe this is real.

“ten thousand dollars!” he shouts, voice louder now, and then—without warning—he pulls you into him. his lips crash against yours, messy and desperate. it’s like a collision of everything—teeth, tongues, breathless gasps, and all the tension of the race exploding in a kiss. it’s uncoordinated, a beautiful chaos, and it tastes like victory. like danger. like home.

he pulls back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours, his hands still clutching you like he can’t let go, even if he wanted to. “you fucking gambled on me,” he murmurs, his voice ragged with emotion. “what kind of insane, gorgeous, genius idiot are you?”

you laugh, breathless and caught in the aftermath of his kiss. your fingers curl into the collar of his half-unzipped suit, your knuckles brushing against the damp skin on his neck, feeling the heat still radiating from him. his pulse thunders against your chest, the rhythm in sync with yours.

“the kind who knew you’d win.” you whisper, and the words feel like the truth. you always knew he would.

he stares at you for a beat, his mouth twitching into a crooked grin. “you’re not allowed to bet on anyone else ever again.”

you raise an eyebrow, trying to act like you’re considering his request, but you know it’s a losing battle. “what if i bet on you every race?”

his smirk is cocky, his eyes gleaming with mischief. he presses his forehead to yours, the contact grounding. his breath is still ragged, and his smile is utterly smug. “then i’ll win every race. world records be damned. i’ll win everything.”

there’s that unwavering confidence in his voice. and you know—he means it. he will win everything. but right now, all he cares about is you. and you can’t help the warmth blooming in your chest.

when he finally sets you down, it’s with reluctance, like he’s dragging himself away from something he doesn’t want to leave. but he doesn’t let go of your hand—no, he tangles his fingers with yours, his grip firm and possessive, pulling you along with him through the pit lane, through the chaos of the crowd.

his body language is effortless, his movements commanding, as if he’s always in control. but there’s something in the way he holds your hand, the way he keeps you close, that says more than any words could. he’s not just the fastest driver on the planet. right now, in this moment, he’s completely and utterly yours.

the media swarm as soon as you make it to the front. flashes of cameras blind you both, the noise overwhelming. satoru’s got you tucked under his arm like a prize, and he doesn’t seem to mind one bit. you’re still trying to steady your breathing, but all you can focus on is how he’s still wearing that grin, the one that makes him look like he owns the world. his hair is a mess, damp and wild from the race, and his fireproof suit is half-unzipped, barely clinging to his chest. he doesn’t care about any of it. all he cares about is you.

the flash of a camera catches you at just the wrong angle, and you wince when you feel the lipstick smudge along your lips. your heart skips when you catch sight of it—a small smear on the corner of his mouth, and a dark streak of color against his cheek from where you kissed him so urgently. it's messy, but the evidence of the kiss only makes him look even more alluring.

“this win’s for her,” he announces into the mic, all charm and teeth, like he’s not sweating, like he didn’t just push his body to the limit to win. “she believed in me. also, she bet her savings on me, so if i lost, i was gonna have to start an onlyfans.”

the press laughs, but you can’t find the strength to smile. you bury your face into his shoulder, mortified by the lipstick smudge on his face that you’re certain is going to become a headline. you feel the warmth of his skin against your cheek, and then, you feel his chuckle rumble in his chest. his fingers brush the edge of your face, gently adjusting your hair, before he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. it’s like he’s claiming you all over again. “don’t worry,” he says, voice teasing, “i’ll make sure no one notices.”

you’re still in a daze, trying to recover from the whirlwind, but the thought of everyone seeing the mark you left on him has you cringing. satoru, of course, doesn’t seem to mind at all. if anything, it seems to amuse him.

“anyway,” he grins, pulling back just enough to look at you. “guess it’s her turn to buy dinner now.”

the crowd erupts in cheer, but you’re barely aware of them. all you can hear is the sound of your heart thundering in your chest and the warmth of his lips still lingering on your skin. maybe this is it—maybe this is the moment when everything shifts. because as satoru’s hand tightens around yours, you realize that the win he’s really talking about isn’t the race.

it’s you.

and to satoru gojo, that’s the only victory that matters.

a/n : you then get banned to five betting sites for insider trading 💔 dont nitpick about the race pls i did my best😔 if u saw the wrong version of this earlier no u didn't🩷 did i ever mention transferring my works from my drafts to tumblr is hell?🤗 IT HAD TO ESCAPE MY DRAFTS WHILE I WAS STILL EDITING TOO. i feel like i would implode from embarassment every damn time this typa shit happens😭

anyways this my apology to satoru for reader only betting the minimum on his team at free throws and figure drawings LMAOOO.

[csainzoperator]

Text you receive from the f1 drivers when you're asleep🥹

honey kissed dreams !

summary: exactly what the request says, texts you receive from drivers when you're asleep :)

(fem!reader×f1driver)

trigger warnings: nicknames, suggestive, tooth rotting fluff, mentions of snake, lemme know if there any more i'm not able to find out

an: hehe hope you enjoy this one! thank you anon for the requests, and yes, i'm working on the other requests too!!

charles, lewis, max, danny

lando, oscar, carlos

the end :)

inbox is always open 💌

[mediocre-shark-tales]

THE NEW AMERICAN

F1 Driver Reader Masterlist

Summary: You join the F1 paddock mid-season alongside fellow rookie Franco Colapinto, stepping in for Lance Stroll after a season-ending injury. This journey is far from sunshine and rainbows, but you’re ready to take on the challenges—and the deep-rooted misogyny of the sport—to prove everyone wrong. Determined to make your mark, you’ll fight to win over the skeptics and earn the respect of the F1 world.

The Debut

The Debut part 2

Azerbaijan GP

Azerbaijan GP part 2

Singapore GP

Singapore GP part 2

Autumn Break

Autumn Break part 2

USA TEXAS GP

USA TEXAS GP part 2

Post Maiden Home Win

Mexican GP

Mexican GP part 2

Brazilian GP

Brazilian GP part 2

Las Vegas GP

Las Vegas GP part 2

Qatar GP

Qatar GP part 2

Abu Dhabi GP

Abu Dhabi GP part 2

End of the Season

Creating a Section/Post for requests specfic to this story. I am open to basically anything even if its a change to the storyline that we can pretend isn't canon. I have written about 3 different versions of these, depending on how this one goes, I may edit and finish the other two f1driver reader series stories.

[dreamydrifts]

feather: oscar piastri

| pairing: oscar piastri x reader

| genre: f1driver!oscar, raceengineer!reader

| warning: no warnings <3

| stefy's note: this is my first time ever describing the race so if i suck at it, tell me. plus this is also my first ever oscar ff, so enjoy :)

| word count: 0.9k

[ BACK TO MASTERLIST ]

"Oscar, radio check?" You say over the radio as you waited for his answer. It's been the first time when you had a good feeling about the race and that was weird to say the least. Ever since winning his first race, which came with a controversial decision from pit wall and Landos eagerness to prove himself, Oscar has been talking about winning races almost on a daily basis.

"Yep. Radio check." He answes with in thick australian accent. He sounded so calm, like he always does. Being his race engineer could be sometimes a blessing and a curse, because of the tensions that have been arising ever since the win at the Hungaroring.

Checking the tyre information to be as much as accurate when telling Oscar over the radio. "Ok Oscar tire info. Everyone on medium apart from Ricciardo, Lando, Zhou, Gasly and Ocon, who's starting on hard." Knowing that he's starting from the front row, the chances of overtaking are high and you were more than sure that he'd take every chance he gets.

"Thank you." Smiling wide for a second after hearing his voice in your headphones you look around not wanting to seem unserious. It hasn't been long since you've been trying hide your crush on him for some time now.

Checking once again the screen panel about the tire information realizing you forgot to mention on what kind of tires will Alex be starting on hard tires. "Correction. Albon also starting on hard." Finishing the sentence you look at the panel that showed the race, taking a deep breath start the countdown for Oscar.

"Thirty seconds." You begin the countdown, knowing that this time everything had to be perfect. He was on first row you knew he could do it. "Twenty seconds." You continue on the same low tone as before. Taking a deep breath once again you say. "Ten seconds."

"It's lights out and away we go." Was heard from speakers next to the pitwall, facing the screen panel you see him get a good start.

Oscar was managing the tyres beautifully from what you could see on the screen panel showing the state of the car. Looking at the lap times and number of laps being done. Fifteen. You sight for a moment before letting him know that it was time to pit. "Now box this lap." You tell him on a calm voice.

Looking back at the Mclaren pitwall, you check to see if he's finally coming in. And there he was. Lando was being a good team player. He was playing the team game just how it was discussed before. None of the team members wanted a repeat of that awful strategy in Hungary. Not this time. This could have been different. It would be different.

By lap eighteen, he had climed his way up to second. Charles still leading. Considering that now was the time to let Oscar know that Leclerc wasn't managing his tyres, you say on a hopeful voice. "The tires are damaging. Time to be smart here."

You knew what you meant when you said the word "smart". And he knew. Time to overtake. "Leclerc. 0.6." With DRS he could get him. He should be able to.

Come on Oscar. Come on. Whispering lightly as you had your arms holding each other as you looked at the screen. Taking a deep breath, you gaze at the screen panel showing the race, looking at the overtake that Oscar managed to pull. He was now leading the Azerbaijan Grand Prix.

"Fuck yeah. Let's go Oscar." You smile, checking to see if you were still having the radio button on, hoping that he didn't hear you congratulate him. Calming yourself, you realize that there's thirty more laps in which he has to keep Charles at bay. Not letting him pass. This was his time to show who he is. And that he shouldn't be seen as a second driver.

Glacing at the screen panel showing the time differences between the twentieth cars, you tell Oscar over the radio the distance between himself and the second place. "Leclerc. 0.8." Come on Oscar. Come on. You can do it.

If there's one thing that you were confident about was that Oscar knows how to defend. And that's exactly what he should and was doing. Defending his first place. For thrity laps.

Sooner than expected you could hear from the speakers right next to the pitwall. "Oscar Piastri wins the Azerbaijan Grand Prix. The australian is a grand prix winner." Clapping your hands lightly as you were still in shock of what had just happened. He won. He won his second grand prix.

Standing by the pitwall as everyone, the mechanics ans the rest of the engineers were still sitting down. Smiling happier than ever you tell him over the radio. "Lovely job Oscar, great afternoon. Fantastic."

Wanting to give him the moment he needed to process the fact that he won, you hear a small "yes" coming from your speakers. He was happy, you could tell.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Drenched in champagne, you could see Oscar coming into your direction. Holding the thropy in his hand, he smiles at you. "I think i would see you on the podium." He says in a teasing voice.

"It wasn't my time to shine." You explain yourself to him, knowing that he overtook Charles, you were just there to support him. After all, you were just his race engineer.

Coming closer to you, Oscar wraps his left arm around your waist pulling you closer. Breathing heavily, he whispers slowly. "Now it is." Leaning in as you also do so, letting his lips touch yours.

© DREAMYDRIFTS — do not translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[no-144444]

playing favourites- o.piastri

summary: your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.

pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader

warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist.

pls remember this is fiction and purely for fun!

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

It wasn’t exactly your plan to have a DNF on your first race but, thus the joys of a backmarker team. Zak had promised you, sworn even, that McLaren would be up there, fighting with Ferrari and RedBull. He’d told you that leaving RedBull would be worth it. Now, you were getting beaten by a fucking VCarb, the seat you could’ve had. You stalked over to Oscar once you got out of the car. 

“Care to fucking explain?” you scoffed. He looked at you, unimpressed. 

“It was an error with the steering wheel,” he shrugged. “Nothing you, or I, could’ve done.”

You sighed. “Of course not. Nothing anyone could’ve done, do you think the media will take that? Do you think this won’t mark my fucking career?! Oscar I need you to understand-” 

“Stop shouting at him, it wasn’t his fault,” Zak demanded. 

“Exactly, it’s yours. Make your car drivable,” you said before walking away. 

It was your reputation on the line, your career, your life. You’d worked to be in Formula One your entire life, you were the first woman in years. You didn’t have the option of  ‘just having a bad race’. You had to impress every single time, or else you’d be ridiculed. You knew what you’d see online tonight. You knew what people would say. You knew what questions you’d get from reporters. You knew it all. You’d done the song and dance a million times before, and you weren’t interested in doing it again. 

“SO, WHAT HAPPENED?” “YOUR FANS ARE DEMANDING ANSWERS?” “WAS THIS AN ACTUAL FAILURE OF THE CAR, OR JUST THE DRIVER?” “WHAT DID YOU SAY TO YOUR RACE ENGINEER AFTER?” “DO YOU TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR RACE?” “WHAT DO YOU SAY ABOUT PEOPLE’S OPINIONS ON YOUR DRIVING AFTER TODAY?” “SHOULD YOU HAVE STAYED AT REDBULL?” 

“ARE YOU EVEN A GOOD DRIVER?”

Walking out of the media pen, you had your head hung low and a blank expression. Every single reporter wanted to talk to you. Every question was more and more degrading, and you just felt empty by the end of it. Megan, your press officer, left you in the hallway of the motorhome and you leant against it and sighed. 

You couldn’t keep doing this. 

In recent months you’d been questioning whether or not any of this was worth it. Every single weekend of your career had been a step towards gender equality, you were the poster-girl for being a good driver, but it was always just not enough. You’d left RedBull because of it. You realised they’d never give you a seat and just continue to use you as a diversity hire. It hurt though, that had been your home for years. You’d always been a RedBull driver, since you were in karting. The whole lead up to your first race was months and months of questions, everyone wondering if you could finally show everyone that women deserved seats in F1. 

And you’d just fucked it up. 

You hadn’t even noticed that you’d started crying until you felt them on your cheeks. You quickly wiped them away, but it wasn’t quick enough to fool Oscar. He frowned as he looked at you, walking towards you. You rolled your eyes. “Don’t fucking pity me,” you scoffed. “Come on, we have to debrief,” you said, walking into the boardroom. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“Oscar, when am I pitting?” you shouted, hoping he would finally fucking answer you. 

“I’m not sure yet, give me a moment Y/n-”

“Y’know it’s really fucking impressive how we finally get in the points and now I’m getting fucking undercut because you’re not fucking ready Oscar, this is ridiculous!” you shouted. 

“Pitting next lap,” he said, neutral. It pissed you off how level-headed he was. 

“Fuck off,” you muttered. You pitted next lap. You finished the race in P11. 

Shit. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“Fuck!” you shouted at Oscar, getting out of the car. “This is such fucking bullshit.”

“Y/n-” he started.

“Just fuck off,’ you sighed, pushing his hand off your arm. “That would’ve been our best finish! P5?! And then Lando turns into me?!” 

He nodded. “Calm down,” he soothed. Your mood turned. 

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” you ripped your arm back. 

Lando DNFed. You DNFed. Shit. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

P15, another failure. At least you’d gotten higher than Lando, stuck down in P17. 5 races in and 0 points between the two of you? Fucking hell. You’d never scored so badly in your life. You walked over to the barrier, finding Oscar standing there. 

“Sorry,” you sighed. “We’re so fucking slow.”

He nodded. “We’ll keep working.” 

You nodded, but you felt that same nausea twisting your gut. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked, somehow sensing it all. You shook your head. 

He stared at you a second longer, then took your answer, despite the way he sensed your lie. 

You two didn’t get along. He understood that. It didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of your insane diet and work out regimen. He was completely aware of the way you blame yourself despite the car being the only issue. He watched you work yourself to the bone. He almost wished you would be a bit more arrogant, like Lando, he wished it fell off your shoulders as easily as it did his. 

He couldn’t stand the media. The narrative they were pushing about you was ridiculous. You’d won every junior series, you’d waited your turn in RedBull, only to get kicked to the curb, you were good enough, but something told him you were starting to believe otherwise.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“So what’s the issue?” Zak sighed, pacing the garage, starting one of his famous pep talks. 

“Y/n,” a voice from the back muttered and everyone's heads snapped to you. It had been one of the mechanics who had preferred Carlos, but you just shrugged. A few chuckles were heard, one of them coming from Lando himself, and you just continued what you were doing, staring off into space. 

“It’s the car we built,” Zak answered his own question, trying to do damage control. 

“She’s not exactly Hamilton,” Lando said, a little bit too loud, as he joked with his engineer. 

“She’s consistently placed in front of you in the same car,” Oscar pointed out, his voice neutral. “The only reason she DNFed in Saudi Arabia was because you turned into her. Also, you haven’t gotten any points.”

“What are you, her boyfriend?” He chuckled, making the garage laugh. You rolled your eyes, getting up and walking off. “Is she fucking PMSing?” 

Oscar’s blood boiled at the way his co-workers laughed at that, at you. You didn’t deserve this shit from Lando, from anyone. Oscar went after you. He stopped right outside your driver’s room. 

“I don’t know what to do.

He heard your voice, thick with emotion. 

“You’re not working hard enough, look at Lando. You have to pay your dues here, it’s how McLaren works. Go for a run and clear your head.”

“I’m exhausted-”

“I’m not asking.” 

He stepped back, letting the door swing open. You stared back at him with wide eyes. “Run?” he offered.

“She should go on her own-”

“Yeah, sure,” you shrugged. 

You didn’t like Oscar, but it was better than going alone. 

“What’s Richards’s problem?” he asked as you two ran the streets of  Miami in the pitch black of the night. Richard was your trainer.

“He’s just a bit of a pushover,” you shrugged. “He’s making me better.”

“He’s making you train more, relax less, and eat less,” Oscar pointed out. “Is that better?” 

“So you’re a health expert now?” you scoffed. “The gaul of you, to always assume that you know better than someone just because you can. It is fucking insane how much of an ego everyone here has.”

“Maybe you should get one,” he scoffed. 

“An ego? No thanks.”

“No, a backbone,” Oscar said. “You can’t let Lando walk all over you, he’s without.”

“Without what?”

He shrugged. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t,” you continued. “Explain.”

Oscar smirked. “Talent.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so strange.”

And off you went, running again. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

P4, finally a good result, finally a result worth all the struggle, all the shit, everything.

But no one was at the barricade. None of your mechanics, no Zak, no one. Not even Oscar. You looked like a fucking idiot. Lando had DNFed. They were busy with him. McLaren was such a fucking boys club, and you didn’t fit in. You shook your head as you searched the barricade, not one familiar face to be had. Bullshit. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You walked back into the motorhome after all of your media duties, and you scoffed when they let out a half-hearted cheer. No celebration for you, only sympathy for Lanod, who crashed because of his own reckless driving, Lando who was totally fine, Lando. You pretended it didn’t hurt. You’d been congratulated by everyone else, every other driver, especially Danny, Liam, Yuki, Max, and Checo. They all gave you the biggest hug, told you how well you were doing, and celebrated you.  You wished you’d just stayed as their reserve driver. Maybe then you’d be something to someone. 

You stumbled into your driver’s room and found a note on your table, beside it, your favourite chocolate bar. 

Congratulations on your result, you deserve to be celebrated, but Lando sucks so we had to pretend that you aren’t incredible. I thought you’d enjoy something sweet, sorry we had to be the ones to leave the bitter taste in your mouth.

Osc. 

You stared down at it for a moment. Oscar knew your favourite chocolate bar. Oscar explained himself and apologised. Oscar was there for you, even if it was just in spirit. Oscar wanted to celebrate you. He wished he didn’t have to leave you alone, standing in Parc Fermé with no one to congratulate you. 

“Fuck you,” you said, to no one in particular. You were alone, as always. You crumbled up the note and threw it into the bin. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

When Oscar looked at his desk in MTC the next morning and found the same chocolate bar he’d spent 3 hours searching for, he frowned. McLaren was ruining you slowly. Your mental health was falling further and further away from ‘alright’, and he seemed to be the only one to notice it. He saw you out of the corner of his eye. “Y/n,” he called. “Come here.”

You rolled your eyes, walking over to him. “What?”

“I don’t like these,” he shrugged. “You should take it, I’m sorry-”

“I don’t like them either,” you shrugged. “Go give it to Lando, since you’re his bitch now too.”

“I-”

“I don’t fucking care about where your loyalty lies, Oscar, but don’t play both sides. You picked one in Imola, so stick with it,” you seethed, hitting the bar out of his hand. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

playing favourites masterlist

[kindestofkings]

tongue-tied (sunflowers)

lando norris x reader

dets: reader is a pro golfer, a massive f1 fan and best friends with lily muni he. will she enter her wag era?

authors note: I litch dont know a thing about golf and I know you can tell lol xx ENJOY

faceclaim: madeline argy

yourusername

liked by lilymhe and others

yourusername just wanted to assure everyone im still alive ! just working away and falling more in love with lilymhe, better watch out alexalbon xxx

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lilymhe my love !! training is always so fun with you

alexalbon heyy you're meant to say stop falling in love with me! ive a boyfriend 😑 lilymhe eh why bother :))

ynfan1 can't wait to see you in action on the green!!

ynfan2 🔥🔥🔥

lilymhe

liked by alex_albon and others

lilymhe the mixed weather has not stopped us getting some practice in! (its impossible to keep her attention when there's a gp on 🙄)

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yourusername but it's the azerbaijan grand prix! I never miss a grand prix!

lilymhe first alex now you 🙄 🙄

f1fan1 can alobono fight? CAN HE FIGHT??

alex_albon you mean i'm not the only f1 lover in your life???

yourusername oi I was the first mister ! been a mclaren fan since birth 😤 lilymhe tbf she isn't lying... ynfan1 it is sooo common knowledge that yourusername is a ride or die mclaren fan lol yourusername yeah get with it albon

yourusername

liked by lilymhe and others

yourusername home and showered in time for the miami grand prix this is a full time job !

kind followers this pact of doritos is a secret between us, got it? so if my personal trainer asks you saw NOTHING, got it?

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ynfan1 yn and lily being f1 fans is so cute !

lilymhe oooh but doritos are your sad snack ? whats happening

yourusername the fav ended in p17 😭 congrats to albonononono tho, i guess alex_albon wow could that have been anymore heartfelt ! lilymhe sush shes a mclaren girlie, don't kick her while she's down!! f1fan1 soooo me coded. its a hard time for us mclaren girlies rn.

yourusername

liked by ynfan1 and others

yourusername greens beautiful as always! unfortunately inviting alex_albon along with us backfired entirely cause albon didn't bring an papaya wearing f1 friend, so I just thirdwheeled for the day .

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alex_albon oh sorry I think oscar was busy today :(

yourusername thats not who I meant and you know it ! 😑

lilymhe at least you look cute tho!

ynfan1 im litch not a golf fan but I'm obsessed with you lol

ynfan2 I feel so seen, I recognise a lando norris fan when I see one !

landonorris

liked by yourusername and others

landonorris freshhhh

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f1fan1 lando finally past his puberty danny ric is proud

f1fan2 he so fine

landofan1 😳❤️

yourusername

liked by alex_albon and others

yourusername it's the monaco grand prix and not only am I not missing it, I'm here! thank qqqq mclaren <33

view all other comments

ynfan1 ahhhh OMG I hope you meet lando finally

lilymhe babe come williams garage xx

yourusername on my way bestie! gotta tell you about the most awkward encounter EVER lilymhe 🫢🫢

mclaren so glad to have you with us today!

landonorris just followed you!

yourusername

liked by lilymhe and others

yourusername attended my first grand prix after being a fan of the sport my whole life! was so chronically awkward I'll never show my face in public again, I've turned to the drink and am hiding away xxx

unrelated: is there a support group for people who embarrassed themselves in front of their celebrity crush??

view all other comments

lilymhe it can't possible have been THAT BAD

ynfan1 you looked so pretty tho!

ynfan1 also have you forgotten you're a PROFESSIONAL sportswoman yourself lilymhe they are so right ! you slay always yourusername 🥹🥹

mclaren please come join us for another weekend ! celeb crushes can go both ways you know ....

ynfan1 OH OH OH NORIZZ has a crush on you YAYYY

alex_albon leave you both unsupervised for a DAY and you implode

yourusername you said you would be my wingman, I was unprepared 😔😔

landonorris if you do find one can I also get the number to that support group?

osarpiastri please for the well being of everyone, I cannot hear a recap of this meeting alex_albon we should have stuck with the original plan and gone golfing ffs landonorris kick a guy while he's down why don't you yourusername hello ! hi guys just gentle reminder this is my comment section so I can like ... see everything.... landonorris hi 😳 alex_albon oh ffs help lilymhe

britishgq

liked by landonorris and others

britishgq meets yourusername in our next edition. yn is the pinnacle of modern women, with titles like the 'people's princess' circulating. we believe it's high time for a proper catch-up.

oh, and did we mention she's currently britain's highest-ranking female golfer?

view all other comments

yourusername ahh this is surreal, I had so much fun!!

britishgq 💓💓

lilymhe I say thats my bestie and I am PROUD

lilymhe a model and a killer sportswoman, someone wife her up before I do ! f1fan1 hahaha thats landos warning

ynfan1 I feel so proud omg!!

ynfan2 oh hello lando lurking in the likes

alex_albon oh?

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell and others

landonorris have been getting some private lessons in between races, watch out carlossainz55

view all other comments

carlossainz55 aye you'll need a miracle

landonorris and who says I haven't got one...

alex_albon you'd wanna start returning my calls mate

landofan1 oh hello WHO ARE YOU SOFT LAUNCHING

ynfan1 *whispers* please be yn please be yn 🤞

lilymhe BESTIE STEALER

ynfan1 ahh its SO is yn

yourusername

liked by landonorris and others

yourusername golf golf golf, also I drove a fancy car and didnt crash! waiting for that call from mclaren any second now xx

view all other comments

lilymhe look at you all adorable and loved up <3

alex_albon these kids are growing up so fast ! f1fan you are everyones parents xx

mclaren getting rid of our first driver as we speak !!

landonorris you are leaving out the detail that you mounted the curb...

yourusername and I can leave the detail of you out of my life if you dont watch ynfan1 HE KNOWS THE DETAILS

landojpg

liked by yourusername and others

landojpg summer break well spent.

view all other comments

ynfan1 I spot my hero !! must be dating if she's on holiday with the friends

landofan1 ew is lily's friend hanging out of him AGAIN?? get a job christ

ynfan1 you do realise shes a professional golfer right?? ynfan2 there's this thing called holidays ....

lilymhe please give her back to me... you can take alex!

landojpg he's not as cute tho 😔 alex_albon so you're saying I am cute tho? 😎

landonorris added to their story!

the prettiest papaya supporter🧡

replies:

yourusername ah give a girl some warning before you hardlaunch her to your millions of fans... yourusername kinda so cute tho Ill let you away with it <3 lilymhe AH hardlaunch on main danielricciardo does landonorizz have ... rizz??

_finished_

as always would LOVE to know you're thoughts! come chat about this fic or even ideas you have for my next one??

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Paddock Princess

♥ masterlist | request rules

♥ pairing: jude bellingham x fem!black!f1driver!reader

♥ synopsis: your boyfriend jude bellingham is welcomed with open arms by the f1 community and becomes the people’s paddock’s princess

♥ smau - fc: tyla - as always none of the pictures are mine <3

♥ warnings: swearing and suggestive comments !!!

♥ a/n: never let em know your next move WAPOW jude fic.

-Jude Bellingham Replies to Fans on the Internet | Actually Me | GQ Sports-

“We know about your inspiration in football, but which athletes outside of football do you look up to—if any?” he read off a laptop screen.

“Uhm,” he scratched the bridge of his nose. “Probably Y/n L/n,” His face lit up with a smile as the camera crew giggled in the background. “She’s done quite a lot in her sport in such a short amount of time and I really admire her driving style, if i’m being honest. Yeah, I’ve been spending a lot of my time watching F1 recently, so probably her.”

He sent the reply and leaned back on the chair, “This is peak journalism.”

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by oscarpiastri, carmenmundt, judebellingham, and 1,494,027 more

yourusername i heard someone say my name?

view comments

realmadrid you heard correctly

user1 exposing him 🙊

user2 @/user1 I'm sure she's seen the video by now

user3 I wish he said my name instead tbh

user4 I wish he would do more than just say my name

user5 @/user4 SO REAL

user6 the someone in question who said her name being the hottest madrid player

yourusername @/user6 that's debatable

judebellingham @/yourusername ???

user7 have you and jude met before? I know you spend a lot of time watching madrid 🤔

yourusername hopefully I'll see him soon !!

user10 @/yourusername that doesn't answer the question...

carlossainz55 @/yourusername I can take you to meet him under one condition

yourusername @/carlossainz55 I already told you I can't give you the Ferrari seat back 😭

carlossainz55 it was worth a shot

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, judebellingham, and 1,409,582 more

yourusername first race with you 💋

view comments

scuderiaferrari we're happy to have you ❤️

user7 @/scuderiaferrari did... you buy her those flowers? 😭

user2 @/scuderiaferrari she wasn't talking to you lil bro

user1 I thought she was talking about a secret partner in this post but maybe I'm crazy

user3 @/user1 now I'm confused because I thought the same thing

user5 f1 core is not knowing if y/n made a romantic post about ferrari or a secret lover

scuderiaferrari who's not in love with us? we're hot, fast, and Italian 😉

yourusername @/scuderiaferrari OH 🫣

user6 😨

user8 RAW NEXT QUESTION

user9 why am I blushing

user10 we're not beating the car fucker allegations with this one 🔥🔥🥶

user11 ugh I hate admin. its like why do you post silly comments? what's your @? are you single?

-jude bellingham’s story-

view replies

user1 those flowers look familiar…

user2 ME WHEN

user3 i actually need him so bad

user4 @/yourusername

user5 yn we all know it’s you

liked by judebellingham, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 2,059,043 more

yourusername I regret to inform you that I am not dating ferrari admin and instead with the lovely @/judebellingham

view comments

judebellingham "regret"? 🤨

yourusername I called you lovely what more do you want

landonorris we all knew you were dating the second he said your name

user1 new lando lore drop he watches jude bellingham videos by himself

landonorris fuck I've been caught

user2 LETS FUCKING GO HARD LAUNCH

user3 oh how I love them

user4 they are the perfect couple

scuderiaferrari I forgive you

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 1,492,5028 more

judebellingham dw princess has arrived

view comments

yourusername glad you're here 😘

♡ by judebellingham

user1 yes he has 👏

user2 he's so cunty

user5 he wears her jersey hello?? 🥹

yourusername one that still has the tag on it...

judebellingham @/yourusername you didn't see that 😬

user8 wheres the rest of the madrid team?

judebellingham 🤷‍♂️

vinjir @/user8 he didn't invite us

judebellingham @/vinjir wowww snitch 🫵

liked by erling, judbellingham, landonorris, and 502,684 more

yourusername its always great to meet a fan 🫶

view comments

judebellingham I don't really consider myself a "fan" 🫤

yourusername idk you seemed like a pretty big fan of me last night 🫤

user1 oh!

user9 judeyn >>>

user10 god bless these two and all the pr training they ignored

user7 hes so fjdsjkskfj

user6 I need him so bad

yourusername @/user6 same

user8 I'm gonna need full time wag jude from now on

judebellingham quitting my job rn 🏃‍♂️💨

[manzuaves]

ɢᴏᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴘᴏᴘᴘɪɴ ᴘɪʟʟs (ᴀɴᴅ sʜɪᴛ)

pairing. f1wag!manon x f1driver!reader

warnings. mentions of substance use. curses. lwky cheating that's it.

Monte Carlo, Monaco, 2025.

You were indulging in the opulence of the Monte Carlo lifestyle. You were the newest rising star on the grid, and this was your first ever GP in Monaco, signed under Scuderia Ferrari. To say the least, you were pretty much nervous. Especially when the view from your million-dollar hotel suite stared straight down at the grid.

Outside, the city pulsed with legacy and wealth. Classic Monte Carlo. But inside, there was you. A hardworking kid who only got here because of pure passion. Not wealth, not last names, not family friends with sponsors. Just grit, long nights, and a go-kart your dad kept alive with duct tape and prayers.

Your overlooking view made you see how different your life was from these people. The Mediterranean Sea contained yachts that looked like floating mansions, each one a symbol to old money and older power. The balconies were filled with champagne flutes and designer sunglasses. Brands you used to only see in magazines now hung casually on the shoulders of people who’d never had to check a price tag.

You pressed a hand to the giant window glass of your hotel suite. Somewhere out there, mechanics were prepping your car. Somewhere out there, your name was printed on the Ferrari garage wall. But inside, it was just you and the quiet weight of everything you’d sacrificed to stand here.

The old you, the kid from a two-bedroom flat who spent weekends fixing busted engines, wouldn't believe it. Wouldn't believe the view, the hotel, the red suit with the prancing horse stitched on your chest.

But even with all that, you didn’t feel like you belonged. Not really. Not when everyone around you made luxury look like second nature.

You'd still prefer cheap wine over their thousand-euro champagne, a late-night take-out from McDonald’s over whatever they served on yachts. You still checked price tags out of habit. The heavy Rolex on your wrist felt more like borrowed time than status.

You reached for the pill with hands that shouldn’t have been shaking. You didn’t know if it was habit, desperation, or survival at this point. Maybe all three. But you knew the feeling that came after: the slow, spreading calm, like slipping into water just warm enough to forget how cold the world had been.

Your eyes closed, just for a second. And in that second, you saw it. The life you’d once dreamed of. The roar of the crowd. Your name on a race suit. 

And when you opened your eyes, the dream was real.

Below, the grid pulsed with life. Cameras flashed. Revealed your infamous orange-and-black rival stepping out of his car, immediately engulfed by media and attention.

But it wasn’t him who made your breath catch.

It was the woman at his side.

Manon Bannerman.

She clung to your rival like she was built for the cameras. Her lips were red, her sunglasses oversized, her posture elegant and lethal all at once. The world moved around her, but she moved like the world belonged to her.

She was everything Monte Carlo epitomize: wealth, beauty, scandal. But to you, she was something more dangerous than any of that.

You knew her in ways your rival never could, in places no cameras had ever caught.

And that was the problem with Monte Carlo. It had a way of blurring lines. Yet she was the only line you saw clearly. And the only line you kept crossing.

Everyone expected it. You ended the GP night with a spot on the podium. Not first place, but not bad for a 22-year-old like you. You hadn’t beaten your rival, but it was a good start to your career. The crowd cheered, your team celebrated, and the press didn’t waste any time, jumping on the chance for interviews and congratulations.

People kept inviting you to the after-party at Amber Lounge, but you weren’t in the mood for any of it. Tonight wasn’t about the spotlight or the champagne. You just wanted peace.

Your phone buzzed constantly. Your family, back home, had flooded your messages, especially your father. You’d decided to reply to them tomorrow. Right now, you just needed a break. You were about to activate Do Not Disturb when a notification popped up on your screen.

dont reply: hey! congrats, champ. can i come over?

You stared at the message for a moment. Of course it’s her, you thought, your mind flashing back to the last time you two had been together. The temptation was undeniable.

You: i didnt win manz. anw arent u spposd 2 b celebrating w yk who?

dont reply: lol, he’s grown. i think he can handle himself.

dont reply: so?

You hesitated. The pull between you two had always been impossible to ignore, even when you knew you shouldn’t give in.

You: ugh. fine

dont reply: i’ll be bringing your fave wine and takeout. 🍷🍟

The clink of wine glasses echoed in your marble suite. Manon sat on the couch, clad in a plain oversized shirt, old pajama bottoms, and her hair tied back like it was any other night.

This was the only version of hers that only you get to see. No designer heels, no red lipstick, no flushbulbs painting in her gold.

You placed your wine glass carefully on the rare wood table, the liquid swirling inside as you took in its deep, rich color.

The metallic taste of the alcohol now soothed you. You didn’t even like it the first time you tried it. It was too bitter and too pretentious. But now? Now it slipped past your tongue like second nature. Like everything else that used to feel foreign before you got good at pretending it belonged to you.

“Gosh, this brings me back.” she murmured, tugging your usual order out of your hands to sneak a bite. Her half-eaten cheeseburger sat forgotten on the table as she reached over to steal a handful of your fries. “You still eat like your seventeen.”

You laughed, wiping the side of your mouth with the back of your mouth. She looked at you with plain disgust that she used to always wear whenever you ate like you haven’t seen food in days.

“You’re so uncivilized, Y/N.” She said, shaking her head but there was no real bite behind it.

“Sorry, rich kid,” you shot back, mouth half-full. “And you keep stealing my food, so maybe we’re even.”

Her eyes darted to the ketchup still clinging to your mouth that you failed to wipe off. Without thinking, she leaned in and wiped it away with her thumb gently and deliberately.

Then with that same efortless boldness only she could pull off, she brought her thumb to her lips and licked it clean.

She caught the way your eyes followed her every move, and the flicker of attention only made her bolder.

“Still so messy.” She murmured, her smirk curling like it knew exactly what it was doing to you.

The room felt smaller to you. Warmer. Like the air had thickened.

When the heat crept up your neck and settled low in your stomach, you reached for the little bottle on the table like its muscle memory by now. You let one rest beneath your tongue, closing your eyes for a beat as the familiar weight pressed down just enough to steady you.

Just enough to keep her from unraveling you completely.

When you opened your eyes, she was staring at you. Frowning.

“I thought you stopped that.” She said quietly.

And that was when it hit you, how familiar this felt. How it mirrored a different night, 5 years ago, when you were seventeen, and she was still the girl who tasted like wine she wasn’t old enough to drink and talked like nothing in the world could hurt her.

You remembered her frowning then, too.

But that time, it was over a half-empty bottle of cheap painkillers and a race you thought you’d never win.

And for a second, it almost felt like seventeen again.

South Garda, Italy, 2020.

“Fuck!”

It was the fourth time your kart had sputtered out halfway through practice, and the frustration was boiling over. You slammed your gloves down on the steering wheel, jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

From the corner of your eye, you saw your dad sprinting down the pit lane, waving his arms like he could will the damn thing back to life. Sweat clung to his shirt, darkening the fabric, but he didn’t care, not when it came to your kart.

You pulled off your helmet, the heat and anger mixing with the weight of disappointment in your chest.

“Again?” your dad huffed, already crouched beside the engine. “This thing’s gonna kill us, kid.”

“It’s alright, dad.”

You looked at the sky like maybe the clouds could answer for all of this.

The clouds felt so far like the dreams you swore you’d reach, even when the world kept telling you otherwise.

Then an angelic, familiar voice called out from the fence.

“I told you to stop naming it after your exes,” Manon teased, arms folded over the track barrier, her Chanel sunglasses sliding down her nose.

Your dad chuckled at Manon’s comment, shaking his head as he wiped his hands on an oil-stained rag.

“And you, Manon, get out of the sun. The heat’ll kill you and your dad’ll kill me after.”

But Manon, like the headache she so proudly was, simply pushed her sunglasses up her nose and didn’t move an inch.

“I’m not a kid, Bill,” she said with that lazy grin, like she knew exactly how far she could push before anyone would stop her.

You caught her smirk as she climbed over the barrier anyway, sticking out like a sore thumb amid the grit of this poorly managed track. Her designer clothes so expensive it felt like even the dirt was too intimidated to touch her.

She didn’t feel like she belong there, not really. But she was there for you, anyways.

“So what, Y/N?” she said, walking toward you with that careless sway only she could pull off. “Are you just gonna sit there and cry about your kart, the one you named after your ugly ex, or are we actually gonna hang out after this like you promised?”

You stared at her, half-annoyed, half in awe because even when even when the sky felt distant, she made it feel like something you could reach.

The kart was dead for the day, your dad grumbling under his breath as you helped him roll it toward the trailer, sweat darkening the back of his shirt. He gave you a tired nod before glancing across the lot where his real job was waiting.

Manon’s family car gleamed in the sunlight, black and sleek and so clearly out of place in this dusty karting circuit. Her father was waiting for your dad to fetch him some place in South Garda you’re too broke to be familiar with.

Your dad wiped his hands and jogged over, falling into his other role: the one that paid the bills. Driver. Assistant. Sometimes mechanic, sometimes errand boy. Whatever they needed, he became. Because that’s how you afforded the dream.

“I’ll come back for you, kid. I’ll just fetch your father.”

Manon just gave your dad a lazy thumbs up. Like she wanted him to leave the two of you alone already.

Once her family’s sleek black Cadillac disappeared down the hill, Manon reached into her oversized designer tote comically out of place against the grime of the paddock and pulled out a crumpled paper bag of fries. Then, like it was the most casual thing in the world, she revealed a half-wrapped bottle of wine.

You immediately recognized the label, one of those expensive vintages you’d only ever seen in the wine magazines her dad left scattered around the Bannerman property.

Your eyes widened. “No way. I’m not drinking that. That bottle’s probably worth more than my entire kart!”

Manon just smirked, already working the cork loose like she did this every weekend. “Exactly why we’re drinking it. Papa won’t even notice. He doesn’t drink red.”

You watched, half-horrified, half-impressed, as she reached into her bag again and pulled out two mismatched plastic cups. The kind you’d usually rinse out and reuse during long weekends at the track.

“Your sommelier, m’lady,” she teased, pouring the deep red into one and handing it to you like it wasn’t a crime against luxury.

You took it, still stunned. Fries in one hand, a wine worth a month’s rent in the other.

Once the metallic taste of the alcohol hit your tongue, you winced. It was unfamiliar and sharp, nothing like the sweet sodas or watered-down iced tea you were used to. You looked at the cheap plastic cup in your hand, then at Manon, who was already taking another sip like it was juice.

She laughed when she saw your expression. “You’ll get used to it,” she said, nudging your knee with hers. “It’s an acquired taste. Like me.”

You snorted, trying to mask how fast your heart was racing, faster than you could ever drive your kart. You didn’t know it then, but she was right. About the wine. About her.

And about how two kids from entirely different worlds: one born into grit, the other into gold, were somehow casually enjoying the time of their lives in the middle of a dusty paddock. Sharing cold fries and smuggled wine like the world wasn’t waiting just outside the barrier, ready to split you apart the moment it noticed.

Back then, nothing tasted right like it was all just waiting for you to acquire it, to grow into it. Yet something it still felt right.

Especially when she leaned over, brushing the salt from your lips with her thumb before pressing hers against yours in a kiss.

Her kiss tasted like the expensive wine you were drinking: rich, heady, a little dizzying. A kiss that overwhelmed you in the quietest, most dangerous way.

The kind of feeling that settled in your chest and made everything else blur out. The kind only Manon could make you feel.

Neither of you were sure when it started. But suddenly, you were just kissing in one of your hangouts like these when both of your knees brushed against each other and suddenly she just pulled you in.

And in moments like these, it felt like you were rich. Not in money, but in possibility. Like you could have it all as long as she was there, laughing with you in the dirt, lips stained with stolen wine. Like becoming an F1 driver was more than a dream, it was inevitable.

But then came the floating. The dreaming too far. The way your mind would start to spin, faster than your kart ever could.

And just before you let yourself drift too far, you pulled back to reach into your pocket, slipping a cheap little pill onto your tongue. Just something to remind you the world was still waiting to pull you back down.

She arched an eyebrow, her tone laced with mock offense. “Really? Should I be offended that my kiss makes you reach for a pill?” Manon frowned, her arms crossed as she studied you. “Or is this just how you handle feelings now?”

“Oh shit, my bad. But I’m not exactly in the mood for a lecture right now.” You shrugged, trying to play it off even though the slight tension in your voice betrayed you. “And it’s not you.. it’s just.. this whole driving thing. The pressure and the expectations. It gets to me sometimes. But don’t take it personally, Manz.”

You didn’t have to explain everything because she knew already. Manon had seen it all, felt it, even. The way you wore the weight of your ambitions like armor, even when it was cracking beneath the surface. She just didn’t know how to fix it, or if you even wanted her to.

All she did was grip your jaw, her fingers warm and firm against your skin, pulling you back in. The kiss was deeper this time, almost as if she was trying to anchor you, to pull you back from whatever spiral you were drifting into. Maybe, just maybe, it would make you feel grounded again.

[piastri-fvx]

Love hate. Lando Norris.

Pairing: Lando Norris x f1driver!ferraridriver!reader, smau, one-sided enemies to lovers (inspired by Na Na Na by One Direction)

Summary: When she doesn't like him and he's in love with her.

Word Count:

Face claim: Sabrina Carpenter and girls from pinterestttt!!

Disclaimer/s: None!! Just fluff and bickering/teasing

A/N: i basically had no time to write anything because i had a lotttt to do!! anyways, i hope u enjoy!! lmk if u have requests or want to be on my permanent tag list <333 also i wrote this before lando changed his instagram @ so i had to go back and change emmmm!!

♡ Masterlist ♡

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

@yourusername

liked by lando, alexandrasaintmleux, ferrari, charles_leclerc, maxfewtrell and 2.484.916 others

yourusername starting the 2025 season like thisssss

| view all comments...

user1 every model should thank y/n for choosing this career path, they wouldn't stand a chance against her 🙏

user2 THE QUEEN IS BACK YALL

-> user3 manifesting another y/n season

charles_leclerc favorite teammate 😁 liked by author

-> yourusername tyyyy!! you're my favorite too

-> user4 oh to be friends with y/n or charles

oscarpiastri good luck on the first race! liked by author

ferrari our girl ❤️🫶 liked by author

-> yourusername forza ferrari sempre!!

-> user5 y/n was meant to be a ferrari driver, no one can convince me otherwise

-> user6 real, if you don't agree, argue with the wall

alexandrasaintmleux 🥰🥰🥰 liked by author

-> yourusername 🫶🫶🫶

-> user7 y/n basically being charles's sister atp 🛐

-> user8 and alex's sister lmao

-> user9 y/n leclerc from now on 🙏

user10 SHE IS GLOWINGGGG

user11 pookie is backkkk!!

-> user12 y/n we need all of the tea

-> user13 real, how was break, y/n?

lando 😍

-> yourusername no.

-> user14 humbled him real fast 😭

-> user15 is he just silent or was he silenced 🛐

-> user16 lando got gagged lol

@lando

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, mclaren, maxfewtrell, joaofelix79 and 3.483.294 others

lando new year, new @ 😁

| view all comments...

oscarpiastri 👍 liked by author

-> user1 typical Oscar behaviour

-> user2 fr the response is soooo oscar

user3 should've been landgoat yk 😝

user4 just a chill guy

-> user5 just a chill guy named lando

-> user6 who drives cars in weird shaped circles for a living

-> user7 and has no rizz (iykyk)

mclarenauto short and sweet. We love it 🧡 liked by author

-> user8 okay sabrina carpenter.

user9 still our goat 🤪🎀

user10 i'm sorry, the old lando can't come to the phone right now ✨

-> taylorswift 😙

user11 y/n being in his likes tho...

-> user12 real, because what about lando's lack of rizz?

@yourusername

liked by lando, oscarpiastri, lilymhe, flavy.barla, jade_distinguinn and 5.385.495 others

yourusername sooooo happy with p1!! congrats to osc on p2, well deserved

| view all comments...

lando what about my p3???

-> yourusername go oscar!!!

-> oscarpiastri go mclaren

-> lando go lando!! 😁

-> yourusername ...

oscarpiastri thanks mate liked by author

-> yourusername you're welcomeeee, osc

-> user1 😁😁😁

user2 cutieeeeee 🫶🫶🫶

user3 i think i'm lesbian now 😍

-> user4 *bi, lando norris exists

-> user5 omg right

user6 oh how i love y/n photo dumps

-> user7 her aesthetic is literally what i wanh mine to be like

lilymhe angel 🫶💗 liked by author

-> yourusername getting ready to get down on one knee right now ☺️

-> user8 lando, alex????

-> user9 y/n is stealing albono's girl 😭

user10 beautifullll 🤍

user11 queen of pinteresty photos liked by author

user12 girly we miss you on tiktok

-> user13 real, i miss y/n's influencer era

-> user14 yeah!! come back, y/n

user15 i wanna eat these pics liked by author

lando i agree with @user15

-> yourusername respectfully, get out of my comments

-> lando awwwwww 😫

-> user16 lando got rejected

-> user17 AGAIN

@lando

liked by olliebearman, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, maxfewtrell, flavy.barla and 3.399.492 others

lando she lost a bet

| view all comments...

yourusername i don't support this

-> lando why didn't you at least like the post, baby 😩

-> user1 BABY??????

-> user2 SCREENSHOT SCREENSHOT

-> user3 I'M FRAMING THIS ON MY WALL WTF

user4 CAN WE TALK ABOUT LANDO CALLING HER BABY?????

-> user5 REAL BECAUSE IS THAT A HARD LAUNCH

user6 can we talk about how STUNNING she looks?

-> user7 real!! like damnnnn

user8 why is she so prettyyyyy 😭

oscarpiastri lol

-> yourusername 🙄

-> user9 oscar is having so much fun with this lmao

user10 lando entering his aesthetic arc???

user11 y/n pookie is such a good influence on lando

-> user12 especially on his insta feed

-> user13 "thank you y/n" we all chant in unison 🛐🛐🛐

user14 y/n looking like a goddess as always 😫

-> lando yeah she does that 😣

-> user15 LANDO WDYM

user16 guys i think lando's trying to tell us something

user17 lando trying to hard launch and y/n refusing 😫

-> user18 it's giving mixed signals

@yourusername

liked by lando, oscarpiastri, mclaren, scuderiaferrari, alexandrasaintmleux and 10.382.283 others

yourusername hard launch or whatever

tagged: @lando

| view all comments...

user1 favorite enemies to lovers 🛐🛐🛐

oscarpiastri finally liked by author

-> user2 OSCAR 😭

user3 so invested in this

-> user4 same

-> user5 finally something interesting lmao

user6 i smell something

-> user7 a love story 🥰

user8 lethal face cards belong together

-> user9 real

-> user10 the proof is literally RIGHT HERE

user11 this post just validated everything we've been praying for. thank you for your service liked by author

-> yourusername you're welcome, darling 💗

-> user12 i would faint if she called me darling

-> user13 @user11 got so lucky wtf

user14 i guess being a ferrari fan, this is the only win we can get

-> user15 #depressedemo

-> user16 there is not one ferrari fan that is mentally stable

-> user17 can't even protest tbh

-> charles_leclerc me neither

user18 lando, please give me y/n

-> lando never.

-> user19 mama a lando behind you

user20 we may call ourselves lando fans, but we are really just y/n fans liked by author

@lando

liked by yourusername, mclaren, oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, f1 and 6.484.185 others

lando MY WOMAN 😍😍😍

| view all comments...

user1 do you guys perhaps need a dog?

-> user2 i can bark

-> user3 woof woof woof

user4 meow meow meow

user5 sometimes babygirl is lando norris

-> user6 sometimes babygirl is a 24 year old man

-> user7 who drives cars for a living

-> user8 and has a stunning gf

user9 i'm only here for the y/n pictures

-> user10 same it's what we deserve

user11 lando i only follow you for the y/n pictures, more content please

-> lando as you wish

-> user12 YAYYYYYYY

user13 my day just got brighter after seeing this GORGEOUS WOMAN

user14 lando can you fight?

-> user15 i guess lando has to fight now

-> user16 he can't take all of us at once

user17 they look so cute 💗

-> user18 y/n is stunning and so is lando 😭

-> user19 no but they are

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

A/N: i'm soooo tired but wanted to get this out of my drafts lollll!! feel free to request and please comment (if u want), i would love to get some feedback, lmao! love u all and hope u enjoyed this

tags!

@freyathehuntress

[hemmingsleclerc]

Dangerous Woman ▏Charles Leclerc

Social Media AU

Summary: Fans speculate your new song its about the f1 driver charles leclerc

f1driver!charlesleclerc x singerfem!reader

★·˚ˊˎ★·˚ˊˎ★·˚ˊˎ★·˚ˊˎ★·˚ˊˎ★·˚ˊ★·˚ˊˎ★·˚ˊˎ★·˚ˊˎ★·˚ˊˎ★·˚ˊˎ★·˚ˊ★·˚ˊˎ★·˚ˊˎ★·˚ˊˎ★·˚ˊˎ

yn.ln

Liked by charles_leclerc,dualipa,and 5,947,398 others

yn.ln HEYY! My new song ''Dangerous Woman'' its finally out tonight!! Hope you like it🖤

username NEW SONG OMG😍😍

username CAN'T WAIT!!!

username CHARLES WHAT ARE U DOING HERE????

username I WAS GOING TO ASK THE SAME

oliviarodrigo Mother is mothering

charles_leclerc has posted a story

this story has been deleated

charles_leclerc

Liked by yn.ln, scuderiaferrari, and 1,483,642 others

charles_leclerc P1 BABY!!! Really happy with the results of the race and to be back on the podium! Had a great inspiration to win this afternoon. See you in the next race 💪

username CONGRATS CHARLES YOU DESERVE IT

username YES BABY 😍👏

username what is y/n doing here 😭😭

username Y/N??????

username INSPIRATION???

yn.ln

Liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and 3,482,583 others

yn.ln cat out of the bag, love you mi amor❤️

username NO WAY OMGGGGG

charles_leclerc love you more ma chérie❤️

Liked by yn.ln

pierregasly finally!!!

username WAIT WHAT HOW WHEN?!?!?!

charles_leclerc

Liked by yn.ln, pierregasly and 2,434,875 others

charles_leclerc yes she wrote that song about me 😊🙌

username he really said ''I want everyone to now''

username HE'S SO PROUD

yn.ln I love youuuuuuu💕🥺

Liked by charles_leclerc

carlossainz He has told everyone in the paddock to listen to it 🤣