#formula 1 imagine

[andcars]

PRODUCT TESTER ━━ MV33

﹙ 33 ﹚ ─────── love like you deserve it

you put lipstick on your boyfriend's lips, he ends up painting your body with your own signature colour.

relationship(s) max verstappen/you

tags established relationship, body worship, fluff, domestic dialogue

wc 1k

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radio "comments and reblogs are much appreciated!"

▶︎ ❝ lips ❞ haiden henderson

There's meowing somewhere in the penthouse. It goes unheard as the dad of the cat has his eyes closed, embracing his new role as a mannequin and a chair for you. It's almost ridiculous how easily he said yes when you asked to try lipstick on him. You think that if you asked him to buy a yacht for you, he'll simply ask, “When do you want it?" 

A laugh leaves you. Max opens his eyes in worry, "Does it look bad?” You shake your head, smiling. The shade is not the best with his colour, you think. Maybe something darker? Though he might not like the shades.

“I think I put too much," you say instead. He shuffles you two around so he can find your mirror. Looking at his reflection, he hums.

“It looks… okay,” he says intelligently. "Is it bad?”

You shake your head. "Just gonna take a while to try and wear off.”

Before you could reach for your box of tissues, he tightened his hand on your waist. “Can't you just wipe it off?" he asks.

“Max," you laugh, “it's going to be messy if I just wipe it off. Let me up—" 

He whines, refusing to loosen his grip, “You're comfortable right here, though." 

“You mean you’re comfortable with me right here?" 

He pretends to ponder about it. His mouth in a pout and eyes running around the room—“Isn't that the same thing though?" You shake your head in disbelief, the man driving you crazy. He ‘pap’s his lips, copying you, “Maybe we should test out how good your lipstick actually lasts." 

The question hangs from your tongue before he ravages your mouth. You smile into the kiss, his chest pressed against yours. Like this, you believe that if you were stripped down to your bones, you and Max’s ribcages would simply slide together for your hearts to touch. A bit of an odd image, but it's what it feels like. Love that feels beyond your body. It's something more that feels horrific but raw.

Your legs wrap around his waist. In a warm embrace, your clothes start to feel intrusive. His tongue pushes your mouth open, letting him in. The kiss is full of love, and your clothes are getting to be fully annoying. Max knows this before you can tell him—barely pulling away to take off your shirt.

He doesn't do the same with his. No, he doesn't even prioritise himself in this scene. Max’s red lips make their way down to your throat. His tongue pokes out, licking the underside of your jaw. It contradicts quickly when he bites down yon our shoulder.

“Mmpf," you wince, “Max, come on…" 

His laugh vibrates through your skin. It feels like a satisfying buzz. “What?" he asks, pressing innocent kisses now. “Is there something you want?" 

This fucking man.

"Don't bite me, baby,” you ask for, simply. "It hurts.”

Max moves down to your collarbone, not saying a word. He looks up at you with a tight grin as he seems to enjoy the very sight of you. "Your lips are very red,” he points out. He's proud of his accomplishments. "Maybe you did put too much on me.”

You tap your finger on your lips, curious. A very faint red shadow where your lip has touched your skin. Max, clearly, has made it his mission to kiss every part of your skin. He leaves a trail of wet cherry kisses around your exposed chest. Carefully, he guides the both of you to lie down. You're on your back, gazing down at Max’s head as he kisses down to your stomach.

“M-Max!" you giggle, ticklish with Max blowing raspberries on you. That, paired with his hands on your waist, you're unable to get away from the funny feeling. “Come on!" 

“What? What!" Max pulls up, pouting. His lips really must be cherry. One look at it and you wanna eat him. “I can't bite you, I can't blow on you, what next? You're going to prevent me from loving you?" 

You're in awe of how much this man will try to break your heart with things like these. “I'm ticklish, Max!" You laugh, sitting up in your bed. 

"Well, suck it up then,” he answers, moving down to your knees. "I'm a very simple man, love. I want to test out makeup products to see if they are as long-lasting as advertised.”

He kisses your knees, praying for its health when you inevitably kneel and ask him to marry you. "That's not why I put that lipstick on you.”

“No?" He rests your leg on his shoulder, kissing just underneath your knee. “I'm not a product tester?" 

“No, Max," you hum, his kiss trailing up to your thighs. “I just wanted to put lipstick on you." 

You can see how red one spot of your skin is becoming as he continues to kiss it like it's your lips. It's… fucking ridiculous. Still, your heart calls for his name in Morse code. Your ears go to the same shade as your kiss-covered chest. With a hand on his head, you pull him back up to your stomach.

There's nothing more than an I Love You than being painted with your lipstick, his lips as his brush. “Hm?" He asks, seeing the thoughts flash in your head.

Yet words can't ever describe how much you wanna see him covered in your possessions, like he has with you. Not a word can tell him how much you want to mark him up like he has with you. If you were a wild animal, you would not allow him out of your bed just because you don't want a second away from him.

“You're so stupid," you laugh out instead, three words enough to tell a thousand.

He goes back up to you, heart-coloured lips on yours. Max smiles so warmly as his weight presses onto you like a weighted blanket—”Only because you are," he tells you, and you think it's enough to tell a thousand more.

@Delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @fallingforpvris @rtorresblog @Tribbisweetdear @Jamie2305 @nichmeddar @vannylen2144

[checkeredflagggs]

Stepping Up

Pairing: oscar piastri x spouse!reader

summary: when tragedy strikes Oscar’s in-laws, the Piastri’s step up.

a/n: needed to write something angst and this is what happened.

Warnings: Parental Death

Masterlist | Taglist

Phone Call, Family Lawyer

Private Messages, Oscar and y/n

f1gossip

liked by user, user, user, and 728,823 others

f1gossip: Uh-Oh! Something seems to be wrong in the world of Oscar Piastri, seen here rushing away from the Chinese GP despite his stunning win.

view all comments

user1: I hope everything is ok…

↳user2: I wonder what’s it’s all about…

↳user1: I suspect we’ll find out

user3: do you think it has anything to do with y/n? They weren’t at the GP and they’ve said they love the Chinese one!

↳user4: oh that’s a good point!

↳user5: oh I love y/n and Oscar

↳user6: they are such a cute couple!

↳user3: this is all making me hope I’m wrong…

↳user4: ngl me too — Oscar almost never runs off like that and for it to maybe include y/n?!?

user7: ok so i know he’s like rushing and maybe panicking but like? He’s so adorable?!?

↳user8: omg thank you for saying that i thought i was the only one

user9: sending good thoughts and vibes their way, if something has gone wrong…

user10: some gossip from the paddock is that not even Zak or Andrea knew why Oscar left in such a rush

↳user11: oh man that’s really not a good sign…

↳user12: not at all…

Private Messages, Zak and Oscar

Bluesky

user12: shit really??

user13: who?!

user14: ok but it would be fucking hilarious if this was about Max and Kelly?!?

↳user15: hilarious but that’s been known forever

user16: ok but who is it talking about?!

↳user17: Well it’s not the Ferrari or Alpine men

↳user18: not the Williams or Haas men either…

↳user19: just did a deep dive on the revolving door of Redbull and Racing Bull drivers — not likely

↳user20: I don’t think it could be any of the rookies??

↳user21: probably not George and Lance doesn’t have another girlfriend (that we’re aware of)

↳user22: Fernando or Nico??

↳user23: that’s my guess

↳user24: I’m gonna go wild shot and say Y/N Piastri!

↳user25: and I’m gonna say you’re crazy!

↳user26: they’ve never talked about kids and y/n has been so open about their life — it’s not them

f1gossip

liked by user, user, user and 827,382 others

f1gossip: Movers spotted going in and out of the Piastri residence in England! Is this the end for our favorite McLaren couple?

view all comments

user27: it better fucking not be

↳user28: your honor they’re my emotional support couple — they can’t be split up…

↳user27: you get me

user29: ok where are you getting this from?! They could literally just be getting new furniture or something?!?

↳user30: this looks like they’re taking EVERYTHING from their house though…

user31: what if y/n is the one who had a kid from a previous relationship?!

↳user32: don’t even speak that into existence

↳user31: no but listen — y/n misses the Chinese GP (despite saying it’s among their favorites and saying they’d be there)

↳user31: then Oscar is seen rushing from the race and then goes silent for like 2 weeks

↳user31: during that time we get a gossip piece that a racer’s partner has kids from a previous relationship

↳user31: and now there’s movers in front of the Piastri house?!

↳user31: Oscar found out about the kids and they’re breaking up about the secret

↳user33: I’ll agree with everything but the last bit — I think they’re moving to make space for a kid in their lives

↳user32: I like that thought more

f1partners

liked by user, user, user, and 493,923 others

f1partners: Missing in action! Y/N Piastri, Oscar’s spouse, has been absent for a third GP in a row — a shocking twist compared to last year when the Piastri’s ruled the paddock! Trouble in paradise or just a break in the chaos?

view all comments

user34: hey! Let’s normalize leaving them alone???

user35: they don’t have to go to every single race you know?!?

user36: let’s be real here — those 2 are so disgustingly in love, let’s stop it with the break up rumors??

↳user37: so true! They’ve literally never looked at anyone else ever

user33: user31 more proof I think! Y/N is definitely staying home to help the kid acclimate

↳user31: I’m starting to agree…

user38: ummm if Oscar is free…

↳user39: I want to know if they need a third!

↳user40: ok user38 you can have Oscar but I’d do some major crimes for even a moment of y/n’s time

↳user41: mood

Private Messages, Oscar and y/n

f1_updates

liked by user, user, user, and 627,823 others

f1_updates: Post Oscar’s win in Saudi Arabia, he seemingly dodged all questions related to his spouse, Y/N Piastri, and the persistent rumors of an imminent divorce. More proof of trouble?

view all comments

user42 or maybe he just wants to talk about his race???

↳user50: right? Like ask him about stuff that actually matters!

user51: god i wish people would just leave it alone???

↳user52: someone who gets me. like what does it matter if he and his partner are having issues or not??

↳user53: we’re here to watch him race, not speculate over his relationship status

↳user54: ^^^^

user56: I know it’s because he’s annoyed but god he’s so hot

↳user57: ngl i was watching yuki in the back being a cutie

↳user58: so real for that

Private Messages, Oscar and y/n

mclaren

liked by y/n, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 2,822,293 others

tagged: y/n, oscarpiastri

mclaren: Watch out Imola! The Piastri’s have arrived!

view all comments

user59: 3 kids?!?

↳user60: my jaw? Dropped!

y/n: Oh McLaren admin you didn’t have to roll out the red carpet!

↳mclaren: anything for our favorite Australian and his family!

↳y/n: you spoil me liked by mclaren

oscarpiastri: glad to have you guys here 😃

↳y/n: we wouldn’t want to be anywhere else

user61: ohmygod the Piastri’s are so cute!

↳user62: they really really are

charles_leclerc: does this make me a grandfather?

↳oscarpiastri: it does, yes

↳y/n: family dinner Tuesday

↳charles_leclerc: I’ll be there!

landonorris: uncle Lando to the rescue!

↳y/n: rescue from what??

↳landonorris: your ice cream-less existence!

↳y/n: you’re watching them when the sugar high hits liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri and y/n

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, logansargeant, and 1,834,734 others

oscarpiastri and y/n: Earlier this year, tragedy struck our family when y/n’s parents unexpectedly passed away in a car crash. In the aftermath, our lives were turned upside down when we took custody of y/n’s younger siblings. Since then, as many people have noticed, y/n has taken a step away from Formula 1 to focus on helping their siblings acclimate to a new life. As we continue to settle into our new normal, we ask for a measure of privacy and of grace — we’re happy together and that’s not going to change.

view all comments

user63: oops

↳user64: I bet some people are feeling very stupid right now

landonorris: make some space cause uncle Lando is on his way!

↳y/n: if you have any kind of candy or sweet food on you, turn your ass right around

↳user65: Shut. Down.

↳landonorris: 😣😣

user66: ok I’ve only had the Piastri’s for like a week but if anything happened to them, I’ll kill everyone then myself

↳user67: big mood

logansargeant: space for an American?

↳y/n: always Lo 🧡

charles_leclerc: how do you guys feel about dogs?

↳y/n: very enthusiastic

↳alex_albon: good because we’re converging on your house with furry cuddles

↳y/n: that’s gonna make some rounds on the internet Alex

↳alex_albon: regretted it immediately

user33: I told you all

↳user31: yes you did

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[no-144444]

Are you still working on your Lando serie?

chapter 8: monaco munchies

꩜ summary: lando norris was a preppy asshole in secondary school, and you were the girl he despised. years later, you're a hot-shot sports lawyer rewriting the rules of the sport he calls home, and your paths cross, whether you want them to or not.

꩜ pairing: lando norris x fem! lawyer! reader

꩜ a/n: anything in orange and bold is the past/ in school

If you could’ve gotten out of it, you would’ve. You’d just gotten out, just gotten away, just finished with Lando. Why were you even thinking about going to his stupid Quadrant dinner in celebration of his Monaco win? Well, he must’ve remembered you were a foodie, and he picked the most expensive and up-and-coming Monaco restaurant that would have you on a waitlist for 3 months at least. So, you joined the table with Liam in tow, and you two sat together, keeping conversation between yourselves. That’s what worked best, not giving Lando a chance to annoy you. 

Still, there was a tiny little part of you that was proud of Lando, despite the bad taste he’d left in your mouth. You thought back to that little Lando who knew you so well, that little Lando who dreamed. Wished on stars to win races for a series he wasn’t even part of yet. Monaco was a dream. He’d made it a reality, and that teenage girl inside you, the one who loved him, she still felt that passion from him, even if adult-you knew it was gone in favour of negativity and statistics. 

You took another sip of wine, and leaned your head on Liam’s shoulder as he explained your business model to Lando’s parents. If they remembered you, they didn’t let on. It hurt, in a way, but you pushed that down and reminded yourself of your mantra. You’re smart, you’re loved by the people that matter, and you don’t need someone who won’t show up for you. But they had shown up for you, Christmas after Christmas when your parents would insist you stay in boarding school, they signed you out and you experienced what a real Christmas should look like. They had attended your shows, congratulated you after with flowers, and they had cared. Lando too. His siblings too. It bit into your heart as you sat across from them, but when you looked close enough, you saw that same twinkle in Cisca’s eye, the one that made you think she still saw you. 

And maybe it was nice to be seen. 

Across the table, Lando watched you with a clenched jaw. The way you lay your head on Liam’s shoulder, it was just too… domestic. Too normal. He shook his head. His food tasted like cardboard, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the sight unfolding in front of him, or the fact that the girl he’d brought had an insane amount of perfume on, and it was overpowering his senses. The hand he had placed on her thigh (hoping you’d notice, you didn’t), tightened, and she jumped in her seat a little. 

“You wanna get out of here?” she asked, her voice low and seductive. No, was the immediate answer in his head and he covered it with a cough. He took a deep breath and tried to quell the memories of you in his head. Nervousness and empty dorm rooms, giggles and zero pressure. He missed it. He missed you. 

“Why do I have to close my eyes?” you asked him as he led you into his dorm room, which he’d skipped a class to decorate for your birthday. You hadn’t seen each other in 3 months. He’d been busy racing, and you’d given him his space, especially after what he’d done before he left. Regardless, you two fell right back into it that day, your birthday, and he wanted to do something special. 

“It’s a surprise, isn’t it?” he scoffed. He led you into the middle of the room and stood behind you, dropping your hand. “Alright, ready?”

“Sure Lando, but do be aware that Melissa is sobbing crying over Marcus again, and I’m supposed to be back by at least the third ice cream tub-”

“Just open your eyes!�� he demanded, and you did as he asked. His dorm room had transformed into a haven. Piles of duvets, blankets, and pillows. A blanket hung from the ceiling, and you smiled at him. “I thought you’d like a blanket fort, since you never got to make one,” he shrugged, awkward energy invading his posture in ways only a teenage boy could live through. “Do you like it?”

You smiled. “I love it, Lando. Thank you.” His smile got wider and you both jumped in, ready to play Mario Kart. You’d told him once that your parents never let you make pillow forts or do any of the camping inside stuff, and you felt like you’d missed out on a big part of your childhood, because after that you were straight into theatre. 

A few hours passed, and you were very much losing in Mario Kart. It didn’t matter though, because you were genuinely having so much fun. But you had your head on his shoulder, your eye-lids were seemingly much heavier than before, and you knew you’d surpassed the third tub of ice cream in Melissa’s post-breakup meltdown. You lost at rainbow road yet again, and dropped your controller down. 

“Fuck’s sake,” you groaned. “You’re so annoying,” you chuckled, standing up.

“I’m just good,” he shrugged. 

“Try-hard,” you corrected, and he laughed. “Alright, I’d better head back,” you checked your watch. “I have a feeling Melissa is getting to the calling him stage, so I might just swoop in and save that-”

“I didn’t give you your gift yet,” he frowned. You raised an eyebrow as he searched around his room to find it. 

“Was this not the present?” you questioned, talking about the room-sized pillow fort that definitely took him hours to set up. He shook his head as he produced a small black box. 

“It’s mostly from me, but also my family,” he explained. “My mom was going to get you some clothes and my dad wanted to get you some sort of school supplies,” he rolled his eyes. “So I said I’d pick something out and give it to you from all of us.” 

You picked up the box from his hands and gently opened it. It contained a necklace. A gorgeous necklace. You felt emotion build in your throat. “Lando this is-”

“Happy Birthday,” he smiled, and leaned in for a hug. “Love you,” he added, but it didn’t feel like it usually did. You loved your friends. You loved Lando. You liked his stupid hair and ridiculous accent. You loved that always smelt like motor oil, and that he smiled bigger than anyone you’d ever met. You stared at his lips as he stood just inches from you. He stared at yours, and contemplated doing the thing that had made you not text or call him for the past three months. 

He did it anyway. His hands circled your waist as yours went around his neck, and he felt it. That heat, that love, that passion. He loved you. God, he’d never stop. 

“Stay,” he whispered, pleading. 

You stayed. Because you always did what Lando asked. 

Yeah, you’d ruined him for other women. But that voice at the back of his head screamed at him. You could’ve had her. It’s your fault she hates you. You should just leave her alone. All true, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. 

You stared at the redhead that was practically in his lap, and you couldn't stop yourself from thinking. He hates when people touch him when he eats. He hates perfumes that are so pungent it overcrowds you. You pushed it back, and turned your attention back to your plate. The food was great (when you weren’t smelling perfume), and the wine was great too. 

“It’s like they’re fornicating at the table,” Liam whispered and you genuinely couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, even with a mouth half full of wine. He ended up with wine on his trousers, but he didn’t seem to care. He just laughed anyway, helping you as you laughed/ coughed, gaming the laughter of the rest of the table. What people didn’t know about you, was that you were actually a really easy-going person, just not when you were under a strict deadline, and or working with Lando Norris. Both things brought out the worst in you. 

You and Liam left quickly, and you promised to get his trousers dry-cleaned. 

Lando watched as you two left, thick as thieves, every bone in his body screaming at him. That should be me. 

He walked the streets of Monaco, the streets he’d owned just hours before, with a kind of mournful sadness. He mourned his relationship with you, for the things that could’ve been, and he mourned the little boy inside of him that would be livid he ever let you get away. 

“Y/n looked happy tonight,” his mom interjected into their silent conversation. “Is that her husband?”

Lando shuddered at the thought. “Her friend. They work together.” 

“She’s so smart,” she continued. “Beautiful too, she really grew up,” she smiled fondly, like she was remembering the 15 year old version of you that was too polite for her own good. “Funny how she still wears the necklace.”

Lando stilled. “What necklace?” he could feel his heart in his stomach as he turned to his mother. 

“The necklace you got her for her 18th?” she explained, confused. “She was playing with it all night, you didn’t see?”

“You’re still in love with her, aren’t you?” his dad, who had been quiet for most of the night, finally spoke up. 

Lando sighed, finally letting all those emotions he’d piled up for months, out. He practically fell into his dad's arms, hiding his face in his neck “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, the first tears falling. “She hates me now.” 

𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟

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[paucubarsisimp]

silent echoes

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: in which everyone pulls away including lando

warnings: suicide, cussing, death, angst (read at your own risk)

a/n: you're not alone <3

it didn’t happen all at once. it never does.

it starts with little things. unanswered messages. eyes that flicker past you in a room like you’re not really there. voices that used to say your name like it meant something, now barely even whispering it.

and then suddenly… you’re alone. not in a dramatic way. no big fights. no screaming. just distance. quiet, growing distance.

your family stops calling first. your mom used to check in every morning, even if it was just a quick “how did you sleep?” now her phone is always “on the other line.” always “will call you back.”

but she never does.

your sister had her baby last month. you weren’t invited to the hospital. you found out on facebook. she’d blocked you from her stories, but someone else posted a photo and tagged her.

you stared at the screen until your eyes burned.

when you asked her about it, her reply was short, cold, like she didn’t even recognize the sound of your name anymore.

“we didn’t think you’d want to come. you’ve been… distant.”

you wanted to scream. to tell her no, you’ve all just started walking away from me, but your voice caught in your throat. and you just said “okay.” because what else could you do?

your friends followed. slowly, then all at once.

first it was one friend forgetting to invite you to a party. then another bailing on dinner without a word. then the group chat went quiet. or maybe it didn’t—it just stopped lighting up for you.

you asked jess once if something was wrong.

she looked at you like it was obvious.

“i don’t know, y/n. being around you is… heavy. you bring the mood down.”

your chest felt like it collapsed in on itself. you didn’t even cry. you just nodded, said sorry, and left. even though she’d just carved a hole in your heart and walked away like it didn’t matter.

then there was lando.

your last light. your last safe place.

he used to hold you like the world couldn’t touch you. used to send goodnight texts from across the world, voice notes after races, sleepy photos with messy hair and soft smiles.

you loved him so much it hurt.

but even he started to go quiet.

he stopped replying as fast. stopped asking how your day was. he’d say he was tired. that the season was crazy. that you’d talk “soon.” but soon kept slipping further and further away.

you told yourself it was just stress. that he still loved you. that you weren’t losing him like you lost everything else.

but you were wrong.

you saw her in his photos first. blurry at the edges at first—someone cropped out of a frame. then slowly, more clearly. hand in hand. laughing. her in his hoodie.

not you. her.

your heart didn’t just break—it dissolved.

you showed up to his hotel before the spanish grand prix. you waited by the elevator for him, hands shaking, heart somewhere between your ribs and your throat.

he looked surprised to see you.

not happy.

just… surprised.

“y/n. what are you doing here?”

you tried to smile, but your lips didn’t move right.

“i needed to see you.”

he sighed. like he already knew what you were going to say. like it was a weight he didn’t want to carry.

“i didn’t mean for you to find out like this.” “so it’s true?” you whispered.

he didn’t answer.

and that was your answer.

you felt something break inside. not a crack. a collapse. the kind of heartbreak you don’t come back from. the kind that settles into your bones.

“what did i do wrong, lando?” “you didn’t… do anything,” he said, eyes flickering away. “you just started feeling like someone else. like being around you… wasn’t easy anymore.”

you wanted to scream. to beg. to make him look at you. remember you. remember who you used to be.

but you didn’t.

you just nodded. and walked away.

because you knew.

people don’t stay when you start to feel like a shadow.

now it’s quiet all the time.

no texts. no calls. no plans. the silence used to scare you. now it’s all you know. it’s comforting, in a sick kind of way. at least it doesn’t lie.

your phone lights up sometimes, but it’s never them. it’s bills. spam. promotions. not your mom. not jess. not lando.

never lando.

you see him sometimes. on your screen. smiling. winning. living. she’s still there. still by his side. you aren’t.

no one comes back. no one reaches out. and the worst part is—no one even notices you’re gone.

maybe you never really mattered. maybe you were just noise in other people’s lives, and when you went quiet, they just… moved on.

the world didn’t stop.

it never does.

but you did.

it’s not loud.

that’s the thing no one tells you.

when everything falls apart—when your body gives up before your heart does—it’s not loud. it’s just quiet. achingly quiet. like the moment right after a song ends and the world forgets to breathe.

you sit on the floor of your apartment. knees pulled to your chest. the only light is from your phone screen, still and dim on the carpet beside you. no missed calls. no unread messages.

no one is coming.

not your family. not jess. not lando.

you used to believe in second chances. in people coming back. in love strong enough to wait for you.

but now you believe in silence.

you press your cheek to your knee. your eyes are dry. the tears ran out days ago, or maybe weeks. time has stopped keeping track of you. like it, too, decided you weren’t worth remembering.

you wonder if they’d even notice. if tomorrow came and you didn’t.

would your mom check in? would jess say your name in passing and stop mid-sentence, realizing something was missing? would lando pause during breakfast, spoon halfway to his mouth, feeling a tug in his chest he couldn't explain?

would it matter?

you used to want to be held. now you just want to disappear.

your chest feels hollow. like your heart packed its bags and left without saying goodbye.

you lie down slowly. the floor is cold. comforting, in a way. it doesn’t ask questions. doesn’t look at you with pity. it just holds your body like you still weigh something. like you still exist.

maybe this is enough.

not dying. just… stopping. just not fighting the heaviness anymore. letting it wash over you. letting it have you.

you close your eyes.

and for the first time in days, the noise in your head is gone.

no thoughts. no voices. just stillness.

you don’t know if you’ll get up.

you don’t know if you want to.

he finds out on a thursday.

a fucking thursday.

it’s quiet. nothing unusual. he's in his room, scrolling through his phone, the tv playing something he isn’t watching in the background. there’s a race coming up. he’s supposed to be hydrating, stretching, doing press.

instead, he’s scrolling. distracted. tired. disconnected.

and then he sees your face.

someone reposted a photo of you. he doesn’t even register the caption at first. just stares at your face. it’s one of those old ones—taken before things got messy. before everything changed. you’re laughing, eyes soft, mouth slightly open. he remembers the exact moment it was taken. you were teasing him about how bad he was at cooking pasta.

and then the caption.

“rest easy, y/n. you were too kind for this world.”

he blinks.

refreshes the app.

more posts. more photos. more goodbyes.

and then the words hit him all at once.

you're gone.

no warning. no call. no soft nudge. just this sharp, brutal truth delivered through a phone screen, surrounded by emojis and sad comments.

he thinks—no, hopes—that maybe it's a mistake. people spread bullshit online all the time, right?

but then his phone buzzes.

his mom. carlos. someone from your hometown.

every message is some version of the same impossible thing:

“i’m so sorry about y/n.” “i just heard.” “are you okay?”

he doesn’t answer. he doesn’t speak. he just… breaks.

he leaves the hotel without telling anyone.

no destination. no phone. just his hoodie and the sound of your voice playing in his head like a loop that won’t stop.

he should’ve messaged you. should’ve picked up. should’ve noticed.

but he didn’t.

and now you’re gone.

he gets back to his apartment that night. it feels wrong being there, like the walls know what he did. or didn’t do. he sits on the floor. back against the door. knees pulled to his chest.

he finally opens your messages.

there’s one he never read. it’s been sitting there for weeks. his thumb hovers over it like it might burn him.

“hey. i don’t know if this matters anymore. i just wanted to say i miss you.”

that’s all.

short. soft. like you were trying not to take up too much space. even in the end, you were still being careful with him.

he covers his mouth and lets out the kind of sound that doesn’t even sound human. he curls in on himself and cries. ugly, violent sobs that tear out of him like punishment.

he doesn’t remember how long he stays like that. hours. maybe more.

at some point, he whispers your name out loud. just once. like if he says it gently enough, maybe you’ll come back.

you don’t.

he doesn’t race that weekend. they say it’s “personal reasons.” no one presses.

he doesn’t eat. doesn’t sleep. his phone stays off.

he keeps thinking about the last time he saw you. how you smiled at him like you still believed he’d come back. how your voice trembled when you asked if things were okay.

“you just feel… different,” he’d said.

and god, he wishes he could take it back.

you weren’t different. he was.

he was distant. cold. exhausted from his own life, and too selfish to make space for yours.

you were falling apart right in front of him, and he looked the other way.

a week later, he goes to your funeral. hood up. sunglasses on. back row.

he doesn’t speak. doesn’t introduce himself. someone passes him a folded program with your photo on it. he folds it tighter in his palm until the paper creases down the middle of your face.

people cry. people talk about how sweet you were. how kind. how “no one saw this coming.”

he did.

he saw it coming. and he let it happen.

after that, nothing feels real.

he doesn’t post. doesn’t smile. doesn’t talk about you—not because he forgot, but because saying your name out loud feels like swallowing glass.

every room feels colder now. every laugh he hears sounds fake. he stops listening to the playlist you made him. starts avoiding the city you used to love. starts wearing the hoodie you left behind like it might bring you closer.

it doesn’t.

he scrolls back through old photos sometimes, fingers hovering over your face. he watches videos of you where you’re laughing and vibrant and full of life, and he hates himself for not seeing how dim your light had gotten near the end.

he dreams about you. sometimes you’re alive. sometimes you’re not. either way, he wakes up crying.

he writes you a message once.

he types it in his notes app, knowing it’s useless. knowing it’s not enough. but needing to say something.

“i should’ve shown up. i should’ve answered. i should’ve said i loved you when i had the chance. i didn’t forget you. i just thought you’d always be there. i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry.”

he never deletes it. just rereads it on nights he can’t breathe.

which is most of them now.

they tell him grief gets easier.

but what no one says is that guilt doesn’t.

and missing you? that’s forever.

taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, @levidazai, @hollyf1,@mxryxmfooty, @halfwayhearted, @landoslutmeout , lmk if you want to be added!

[cheriladycl01]

Hey! Could you write a fic where female reader is an older driver (maybe debuted around the same time as Seb) and just little scenarios of her being a mother figure towards the drivers. Maybe mix of SMAU and written story (if you do that) xxx 😊 big thx

MUM! - Grid x OlderDriver! Reader

Plot: Everyone needs their grid mum, and that’s everyone!

F1 was you’re life.

Not in a oh I love watching the races every week and going to one race a year. No, you were convinced there was fuel in your veins.

You drove for about 16 years in F1 being the first female driver to win a race. You debuted at the same time as Sebastian Vettel, you guys were bestfriends and didn't let racing affect that friendship. And that's all it ever remained. Every bone in your body loved Seb, he was quite literally your platonic soulmate. When you first met, your now husband, he'd become fast friends with Seb and never questioned your friendship with him and never tried to involve himself too much to the point it felt forced and thats why you knew he was the one.

When you left F1, you left the same year that Seb did, it felt right leaving the same year he did and you discussed it with him. For you it was because you wanted to focus on family. You were 17 when you first got into F1 and now 33 years old and you wanted to settle down with your husband and expand the family. Which apparently wasn't as much as a struggle as you thought it would be as you'd gotten pregnant 5 months after retirement. Giving birth in 2023 and now being pregnant again in 2025.

But F1 and half the drivers you grew up with didn't want you to leave the sport. So when Sky Sports reached out you knew you had to go.

But with the growing amount of Rookies you seem to have adopted children as well as having had them as well.

Sebastian Vettel

y/user

Liked by sebastianvettel and others

y/user: 25 years of friendship! Happy Birthday to the Grid Dad from the Grid Mum! 🫶🏼

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sebastianvettel: woah, I wish I looked this cool now! Look at that haircut 🫨

-> y/user: a diva once, a diva always

fan1: OMG MOTHER AND FATHER!!

You and your husband always made sure to vist Seb for his birthday, it was like an annual gathering that was held where you both were able to have a massive catch up without being near anything to do with racing.

"Happy birthday!" you crashed him handing him his huge bag of gifts before you went to his wife who you'd become very close to and hugging her handing over a cheeky bottle of wine for the both of you to share.

Your husband stood with Seb while you and Hanna went into the kitchen to unpack the food that you'd got for Seb's birthday dinner.

"Thank you for coming" Seb smiles pulling you into a hug, sighing against you.

"I havent missed one in 25 years, even when i had Tonsillitis i still got here. Wasn't much fun for you guys, but you all had a great time" you grin at the memory making him laugh. He could still see you, wrapped up in a bundle of blankets on his sofa with a box of tissues and a honey and lemon tea.

"Mmmmm good times" he laughs, pulling out of the hug and helping you and Hanna dish up.

"What are you doing?" Hanna cries seeing him doing work.

"Huh?" he asks confused.

"It's your birthday, go sit! Keep out other guests entertained and enjoy yourself!" Hanna exclaims, forcing him out the kitchen where he went to sit with your husband.

Your husband and Seb actually did lots of what you and Hanna called 'guy things' together. They'd go on fishing trips while you and Hanna would go to Italy or Spain and soak up the sun. Or they'd play games while you and Hanna went shopping.

Your husband also found joy in travelling with you and your kids adored seeing their Uncle Seb who despite it being his birthday always had to have something for his favrioute kids.

However, another child always seemed to lurk their way into these parties, that being yours and Seb's first adopted child, Lance Stroll.

You and Seb had been officially made mum and dad of the grid. It started off with Lance being taken under his wing and you just sort of joined in with that.

Lance Stroll

Lance was one of your favrioute people, you could sit with him in a comfortable silence and didn't feel like you needed it to be forced. He was also incredibly funny when he wanted to be.

One time, you'd been talking to him off of camera and he's accidentally called you mom. You'd bursted out laughing before querying him wondering if he really did see you as a mother figure.

"Yeah and what?" he asked and you stopped shocked.

After that it was just sort of known that you and Seb had taken on the roll of parents to all the little drivers across the grid.

You would always make sure to make time for Lance as he always would make the time for you. You werent keen on his dad, as he always gave you strange stare that made you feel like he hated you, no matter how many times Lance told you to 'just ignore it'.

"Lance, that overtake today was incredible!" You praise and he nods in thanks.

“Im glad I managed to get us in the points after Fernando’s crash” he offers and you nod. He’d got himself P6 which was a good score considering how the rest of the season had been going.

“Mmmm you’re leading the Aston Team now” you exclaim happy at the fact.

“Thanks Y/N, you’re always there for me” he says making eye contact with you.

“Can’t get rid of me Lance, I’m your mother” you tease and he laughs looking down.

Charles Leclerc

y/user

Liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and others

y/user: Interviewed my first son today. He asked for a hug :) always such a pleasure interviewing him and getting time to talk. Oh and then theres Lewis ...

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charles_leclerc: Ahhh thank you, ma mère adoptive! You should come see Leo your Grandson!

-> y/user: I have a grandson?! I'm so old!

fan1: argh she's so cute with everyone! We all knew she's be such a good mother (real mother)

-> y/user: I'll have you know I've been a real mother since 2018 when Charles joined the grid.

-> fan1: omg she replies!!!!!

lewishamilton: i'm not ignoring her i swear...

Charles and you first met in 2017. He was very nervous when he came up to you, asking you how you felt you're race had went. You later found out he had a whole script to say to you after your race that you'd started from pole. Little did he know that Lewis was going to turn into you on lap 3 and crash you out for the rest of the race.

"Well, i didn't finish so not great kid" you chuckle at his nervous expression where he'd finally realised what he'd said.

“I erm, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that” he blurts out and you can only laugh at him.

“I know I know. I’m just teasing you” you say placing a light hand in his shoulder trying to ease his nerves.

“You know you’ll be racing with us soon” you grin at him knowing he’s signed for Seb’s old team.

“Yes, I’m excited … and nervous. You’re all so great” he compliments looking down and you sigh.

“I bet you’re gonna be big. Like world champion big. I can see it now. Charles Leclerc WORLD CHAMPION” you say raising your hands in a jazzy manner.

“That should be you. You should have hand a championship but it’s HIS fault” he directs looking at the screen following Lewis in your P1.

“How are you so calm and not angry at him?” He presses and you just laugh.

“I used to get very angry when I first started and I was young. But you learn that you being upset gets you nowhere. I learn from my mistakes, I don’t let them have a hold over me” you explain to him. Knowing that you were a much calmer and level headed driver than you used to be.

“Do you think I’ll ever be as good as him?” He asks tone softer than it was before.

“I think anyone can be as good as him, given the circumstances. I’ve know Lewis for years and he’s where he is now because of how committed he is. He works and trains harder than anyone I know. He’s got an incredible team behind him and a car to match, when all of that falls into play you’ve got yourself a winner. He’s one of the greats and will be remembered by everyone” you offer and Charles nods, now seeing the current leader of the championship in a new light. He’d always looked up to him, but now he just seems like a hard worker and Charles wanted to be that.

Lewis Hamilton

Lewis by far was not one of your grid kids, being a similar age to you and having started your careers in the same year you’d know him for an incredibly long time.

Which means you knew his tendency to be a little … childish. And by a little you mean a lot.

Too put it bluntly Lewis is a massive brat.

He doesn’t act angry when races don’t go his way, he’ll pout and be all salty looking like a puppy whose just had his biscuits taken away from him.

He’d been know to throw caps at his teammates when they said something bad about him and would often try play the victim card. You’d know him for so long that you knew the games he played like the back of your hand.

“Lewis!” You chide the man whose currently slumped over on the drivers room. You were both on the podium. Max having taken the win.

“What! He’s taken my win from me!” He points at the empty seat where Max should be.

“That’s racing! You’ll get him next week, this week things didn’t go your way and that’s okay. So stop sulking and put that gorgeous smile on your face” You command sick of him moping when he’s still up on the podium. He looks up to see your famous mum look, and nods on instinct feeling like it’s his mum scolding him when he was a child.

“You’re scarily good at that look Yano? Ever think of having your own?” He asks and you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, but I gotta retire first” you smile and he nods.

“We’ll get out of here then, less competition for me” he grins and you shake your head laughing.

That’s the Lewis you knew.

Jamie Chadwick and Bernie Collins

y/user

Liked by bernie.collins.1, jamiechadwick

y/yser: COMMENTATING WITH MY DAUGHTERS!!! Look at how beautiful they are!!! So proud of Jamie for last weekend in Indy Car as well, as a ex-female driver I hope to see her in F1 in the future!

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Jamie and Bernie were a recent development in the F1 World. You couldn’t be more pleased that women were taking more of an interest in the sport than they historically had.

Not only as viewers but working there. You now saw so many female engineers and mechanics. And it made you so happy that women were comfy within the sport.

When Bernie came onto the scene you immedielty took the younger lady under your wing, almost becoming a mentor. But the mum side would slip out at times when people managed to pick up on it.

"Bernie did you put cream on? It awfully sunny and they haven't given you an umbrella!" you exclaimed one day, going into your back and taking out the aerosol can of sunscreen you'd brought with you incase anyone was in need.

"No i was a little rushed this morning leaving! I didn't realise how early they wanted us at the track" she sighed and you offer her the can showing her you can spray it in her cheeks. She closed her eyes letting you spray it on before you wipe it in.

"Don't wanna get greasy hands before you hold your mic hun" you smile at her as she opens her eyes thank you for the coverage.

It was very similar to Jamie, who was much younger but also whenever the girl came to the f1 track would find her way to you.

But the moment you really saw it was when you went to her Indy Car race. Her parents werent able to attend and you had the weekend free so of course you and you're husband came down for the show.

And you couldnt be prouder of her. You were one of the first people there to congratulate her on her amazing race, pulling her into a huge sweaty hug.

"I'm so proud of you darling! You did so well!" you smile kissing the side of her head pulling her in for a second hug.

"Thanks mum" she chuckles with a shake of her head before heading off with her team.

George Russell

y/user

Liked by georgerussell63, carmenmmundt and others

y/user: My son drove me and his girlfriend to work today! Recommended 10/10!

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georgerussell63: yeah you're welcome. Might need you to come to parents evening soon. Professor Wolff isn't happy with me or Kimi!

-> y/user: @ susie_wolff get your husband in check! lol

->susie_wolff: will get on this now, not our sons, not on our watch

-> georgerussell63: thanks mum number 2

kimi.antonelli: Mr Wolff is very scary. PS can i have some help with my homework?

George was one you always watched out for. Being a British driver you felt like you had to mentor him. Which is exactly what you did. The minute he came into Williams despite his awful first year, you knew he was something worth your time and knowledge. So you helped him out, gave him small pointers on the track and he got his first points in F1. The car got better as the year went on and he was driving with more ambition.

George had a special place in his heart for you after all you'd helped him do in his career. He was one of the saddest when you annouced your retiremeant. You had to actually to take him out to dinner and explain to him privately that you were leaving even before it got out in the media.

"So what's this treat of a meal for? Not my birthday!" he says digging into the Carbonara that was in front of him.

"Well, next years going to be a little different in the races!" you start to explain not picking up your own knife and fork, wanting to concentrate on getting everything out in the open.

"What, OMG are you changing teams?" he asks in shock.

"No, i'm retiring" you say and he chokes on the pasta making you look up in shock. He also looked shocked too.

"W-what? No you cant be!" he says looking at you. You were his favrioute person on the grid. He always came to you whenever he had a bad race or an issue with Max, which you always treated as if they were siblings in an argument.

"I'm sorry, but it's my time and i want to be with my husband and ... i wanna start a family" you smile softly looking at him.

"Were you're family. Here racing!" he demands a sour upset sort of look on his face.

"George ... i love you all. But i need to do this. For me, okay. I'll still come and visit. Think i've got a free paddock pass for life ..." you joke.

"But ..." he starts but you just smile.

"Come on, lets not spoil a good meal" you say, tapping his hand.

"You better come visit" he mutters looking up at you with a smile.

"Does that mean i'll get to be a cool Uncle?" he grins and you laugh with a nod.

"Oh absolutely"

Kimi Antonelli

Kimi Antonelli wasn't who you expected for Mercedes to replace a 7 time world champion. However, he was for sure the right choice. You saw him as this timid young teenager who was still going through school.

When he'd started in 2025, you were at every race as a commentator or guest. You loved travelling and being with the calendar as it went through the year and being in their to see the wins and talk to your old friends.

But Kimi was interesting. 2025 had brought many rookies who were in a very different age bracket from you. Which meant of course they all flocked to you like sheep.

Kimi was a special case where you met his mum in his F1 debut when he crashed. His mum was incredibly worried and you consoled her as much as you could until Kimi came to meet the both of you.

After that moment she trusted you with her son. You would go with him from the hotel to the track and you'd sit in the Mercedes hospitality with him.

"I don't get this, what does it mean?" he asks you about a question on his English homework that he didn't really understand. This was a typical race weekend now, between practices and interviews you were hauled up with papers both of you having what you called mocktails. It was literally just fancy water with lemons and limes and an umbrella in it but you and Kimi always found it funny ordering them.

"Well, its asking you how the poem makes you feel... its about emotion in literature" you then translate it into Italian, and he nods a thoughtful face appearing across his features before. He writes his answer out in english before showing it to you and you smile.

"I recon if you werent half the driver you are, you'd be a poet!" you grin and he frowns lightly knocking your shoulder.

"No! Shush!" he cries before laughing with you.

"Good thing I'm a good driver then!" he jokes and smiles taking some water.

Isack Hadjar

y/user

Instagram Story Caption: He destroyed the car, but got a hug from me!!!

Yuki Tsunoda

Instagram Story Caption: Mine and @ nicolepiastri child!

Lando Norris

Instagram Story Caption: MY SON WON!!!!!

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[verstappenverse]

All This Time

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max was your first everything, first friend, first heartbreak. Now years later he’s world champion, and you’re standing in front of him like no time has passed at all. (Requested)

3.1k words / Masterlist

You didn’t expect him to remember.

Not after all this time. Not after the years had passed like train cars speeding in the dark, loud, fast, and gone before you could even wave.

You’d stayed in motorsport, of course. Racing had been in your blood too once. You never fully pursued it like Max did, but you’d carved out a place for yourself behind the scenes, making a name for yourself in strategy, development, coaching, anything that kept you close to the world you loved. Anything but Formula 1. You avoided that part like a wound you never let scab, too afraid it might tear open the second you saw his name on a garage wall.

But today when you finally step into the Red Bull garage and your eyes meet his, those same ocean-blue eyes that once squinted against the sun as he begged you to race him down some dusty backroad the world doesn’t just pause. It stops entirely.

Max Verstappen freezes like he’s seen a ghost.

“Hi,” you say, barely above a whisper. Because really, what else can you say after almost ten years, multiple countries, and the ache of being forgotten?

He blinks once. Then again. His jaw tightens.

“You came.”

You nod, nervous under the weight of his gaze. “Yeah. I mean, your mum invited me, and… it felt like time.”

Time. That strange, cruel thing that unraveled the knot you’d once tied so tightly between you, a knot built from scraped knees, shared dreams, and the kind of trust that only comes from growing up side by side.

Time turned summer sleepovers into unanswered texts. Turned secret handshakes into blank stares across a room you no longer shared. It turned “always” into “used to.” You had been inseparable. Velcro. Chaos in a two-person unit. Trouble, always in pairs and never quite as brave alone.

You’d kept up with his career of course. You knew his stats, his wins, the way the crowd chanted his name now. But the Max you remembered the one with grass stains on his knees and ice cream on his chin felt like someone else entirely.

You grew up in karting garages together, your laughter bouncing off concrete walls louder than the engines. You were twin shadows slipping between toolboxes and tyre stacks, dodging mechanics and stealing zip ties like they were gold. Oil-smudged fingers. Greasy fries in one hand, tyre pressure gauges in the other. Max taught you how to kick-start an engine before you’d even mastered telling the time. You taught him how to tie a tie, how to tape a blister, how to calm down after a bad lap.

You used to sneak snacks off each other’s trays and pretend neither of you noticed. You fell asleep shoulder to shoulder in the back of his dad’s van, watching old F1 races on a cracked iPad and whispering commentary until one of you snored. You had a notebook, battered and dog-eared, where you’d both sketch ridiculous helmet designs, all glitter paint and fire decals. He always said he’d wear yours if he ever made it. You still have that page, folded and faded.

After every race, whether he won or crashed out, he’d find you. Every time. He’d pull off his gloves and jog toward the barriers just to hear your opinion. When you raced his face would light up when you crossed the line whether first or last didn’t matter. You were his best friend. That was enough.

But then life did what life does. You moved. He kept racing. You said you’d write. He said he’d call. And you did at first, but life moves fast and somewhere along the way you stopped.

Now here you are standing in the Red Bull garage as if no time passed, as if the world hasn’t changed, as if you’re still those two sunburnt kids who thought karting trophies and fizzy drinks were all that mattered.

Max looks at you like you might disappear if he blinks again.

His gaze flicks over your face with an urgency he’s trying to hide, like he’s checking to see what’s changed and what’s stayed the same. Like he’s afraid to find too much of one or the other.

“Didn’t think I’d ever see you around here again,” he says finally, voice low and rough-edged, like it’s scraped up from somewhere buried.

You swallow the lump that rises instantly in your throat. “Didn’t know if you’d even remember.”

His mouth tilts not a smile, exactly. More like the ghost of one, soft and haunted around the edges. “You’re kind of hard to forget.”

And just like that, something inside you, something carefully packed away for years, twists, sharp and sudden. An old ache, familiar and stupidly alive. He used to say things like that all the time, back when the only people in your world were each other.

Max shifts like he wants to say something else. Instead his eyes catch on your features again, and he frowns faintly.

“You look…” he starts, then trails off. His lips part like he might keep going, but nothing comes.

You don’t press him. You’re not sure you could handle it if you did.

So you offer a crooked smile. “Older?”

He snorts, a low, almost fond sound that slips past his defences. “Still short.”

You roll your eyes and shove at his arm. “Still rude.”

Then he laughs. Really laughs. It hits you in the ribs like a punch, that sound because it’s the same. Deeper now, with age and wear, but still the same boyish rasp that used to echo through paddocks and across bunk beds and over midnight walks when the world felt too big and all you had was each other.

For a second, it’s like no time passed at all.

You don’t realise how long you’ve been staring, locked into the space between who he was and who he is, until his voice drops lower, softer.

“I missed you.”

Three words, barely breathed.

They land like a stone in your chest.

Your mouth opens, but no sound comes at first. Your fingers twitch at your sides, aching to reach for something that might no longer be yours.

“I missed you too,” you whisper finally, and the truth in it feels like something dangerous.

Because now you’re not just remembering him.

You’re feeling him.

The next morning, the paddock is alive with chaos, engineers buzzing, cameras swiveling, drivers darting past like comets. But all you can think about is the message from Max that was left at your hotel for you.

Come by the garage in the morning, before FP?

Your fingers tremble slightly as you enter the paddock. You’ve barely slept, head full of things you almost said and things he nearly did. It’s like a door opened yesterday, and now you can’t stop looking inside.

He’s waiting by the back of the garage, half in uniform, half in thought.

His face softens when he sees you.

“I was hoping you’d come.”

You nod, trying not to stare at the way his fire suit clings to his frame. “I figured if I didn’t you’d just track me down.”

He smirks. “Yeah probably. I know where you’re staying.”

You laugh, but there’s a tightness in your chest.

You watch as he fiddles with the velcro of his gloves, not quite meeting your eyes. “There’s something I want to show you. Maybe it’s stupid.”

He leads you to his driver room, past engineers, down the corridor with controlled chaos humming all around you, and when the door clicks shut, it’s just you and him.

He opens a drawer. Pulls out something that makes your breath catch in your throat.

A photo.

Faded. Bent at the corners. But unmistakable.

You and him. Teenagers, around fifteen. Covered in dirt and grease and beaming like idiots. You’ve got a bottle of water in one hand and Max is mid-squint, arm slung over your shoulders.

“I’ve had it since that last race before you left,” he says, voice low. “I kept it in my wallet for years. Then it started to fall apart, so I moved it here.”

Your fingers graze the edge of the picture.

“We look ridiculous.”

“You look happy,” he corrects quietly.

You don’t ask how often he’s looked at it. You don’t have to.

Because you remember that day too.

The air had smelled like petrol and hot asphalt, and your heart was still pounding from the race. You were grinning, practically vibrating with adrenaline. Because for the first time ever you beat Max.

He pulled off his helmet slowly, curls a sweaty mess, and sulked like someone stole his dog.

You plopped beside him in the pit lane, holding out the fries you’d bought from the food truck near the gate. “Truce?”

He gave you the side-eye. “You cut me off on turn six.”

You shrugged. “You left the inside line open. Rookie mistake.”

“I hate you.”

You popped a fry into your mouth. “No you don’t.”

He didn’t say congrats, but the way he smiled when he thought you weren’t looking that said enough.

You offered him the last fry without looking at him. “For your bruised ego.”

He took it, but didn’t eat it right away. “You’re gonna win a lot of races,” he said quietly.

“So will you.”

“But I’ll always remember this one.”

You turned to him, confused. “Why this one?”

His gaze met yours, and something in his expression shifted, a flicker of hesitation, like a thought stumbled too close to the surface.

He leaned in.

It wasn’t fast or sudden. It was slow, careful, uncertain.

Your breath hitched. The grease-stained paper bag slipped from your fingers onto the ground. You felt the sun on your skin and the heat of his body so close, his mouth a breath away from yours.

You didn’t move.

Neither did he.

Your noses nearly brushed. His eyes flicked to your lips. You could count his freckles.

But then, footsteps. Loud. Sharp.

You both jolted back like the moment hadn’t happened at all.

His father walked past, barely glancing at either of you.

You looked down. Max rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly very interested in his shoelaces.

And just like that, it was over.

Not a kiss.

Just an almost.

An almost that would live quietly in the silence between you, never spoken about, never quite forgotten.

You didn’t expect to be invited to the RedBull motorhome for lunch. And you definitely didn’t expect Max to sit across from you the entire time, answering questions from media with one eye always flicking back to you.

After the interviews, he corners you in a quiet hallway.

"Come for a drive with me."

You blink. “Now?”

He nods. “Yeah. I need to clear my head. I think… I think we need to talk.”

You hesitate for only a moment before you follow him out into the sun.

The car is fast, obviously, and expensive, a blur of black and blue. But inside it everything slows.

“I tried calling once… recently, I mean” he says, not looking at you.

You swallow. “I changed my number.”

He nods. “I figured. I just, you were gone. One day you were there, and the next…”

“I didn’t want to leave Max, I was a teenager I didn’t get a say.”

Silence. Then, “I know, but I really didn’t want you to. I wished I could’ve done something.”

“You were just a kid too. It was no ones fault.” You take a deep breath and then add. “I waited for you that last night, you know. I kept thinking… maybe you’d come find me.”

You’d gotten the news on a late afternoon: your family was relocating. New country. New start. It felt like the world cracked open beneath your feet.

You’d ran to him heart pounding with the knowledge that your whole life was about to split in two.

“I need to tell you something,” you’d said, voice shaking.

He looked up instantly. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitated. Then forced the words out.

“I’m leaving.”

Max blinked. “What do you mean, leaving?”

“My dad got a job offer. We’re moving.”

He stared at you. Completely still. “When?”

You bit your lip. “Soon.”

His soda can crumpled slightly in his grip.

You hated the silence that followed. You wanted him to fight it. You wanted him to shout, to say no. Instead, he looked down.

“For how long?” he asked quietly.

You couldn’t lie. “I don’t know.”

He nodded once. Too slowly. Too carefully. Like the movement itself hurt.

You waited. You waited for him to reach for you, to say anything, that he’d miss you, that he was angry, that you meant something. But he just stood there, like his body had shut down and left only a shell behind.

So you swallowed your tears, your pride, and your heartache and whispered, “Guess I’ll see you around.”

You wanted to throw your arms around his neck and say you’d fight this, that you didn’t want to leave, but your throat burned and your eyes were wet and you couldn’t force the words out.

Then you turned and walked away.

“I should’ve said something,” Max says quietly. “Anything. I was a coward.”

You look at him.

You don’t say me too.

He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for a decade.

It’s quiet after that. The kind of quiet that lives in the space between memory and regret.

He drives to a lookout over the sea. It reminds you of a place you used to sit together as kids, eating fries from a greasy paper cone and talking about what you’d do if you ever made it.

“You made it,” you say as you climb out of the car.

“So did you,” he replies.

You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Not in the same way.”

He doesn’t argue. Just leans against the hood of the car and looks at you like he’s trying to memorise you.

“I thought about you,” he says quietly. “All the time.”

Your breath catches.

“Max…”

“I kept waiting for you to come back. For years, I’d look for your face in the stands. I kept thinking maybe today.”

Your throat tightens. You remember all the times you wanted to reach out, to send a letter, an email, anything. But something always stopped you.

Fear. Pride. Guilt.

“I didn’t know if you’d care.”

He turns fully to you then, and his eyes, older, sharper, but still that same ocean blue burn into yours.

“Of course I’d care. You were everything to me. You still are.”

The air between you shifts.

“Max,” you whisper, and this time your voice trembles. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t know what it means anymore. It’s been years.”

“I know,” he says, stepping closer. “But you’re still the only person I’ve ever felt like this about.”

You’re too stunned to speak.

He exhales, eyes flicking to your lips before dragging back up. “I don’t expect anything. I just… I needed you to know.”

For the first time in a decade, you let yourself touch him, your fingers brushing against his, slow and tentative.

“I still feel it too,” you whisper.

His hand closes around yours like he’s afraid to let go again.

That night, you sit on the edge of your hotel bed and stare at your phone.

A message from Max.

Come up. Roof bar. Just us.

Your heart is in your throat as you ride the lift.

When the doors open, he’s already there two drinks in hand, back turned to the city view. He turns as you approach, something soft and aching in his smile.

“You came.”

“You asked.”

He hands you a drink. “For old times?”

You take a sip. “Something like that.”

You stare at him. At the man he’s become. Stronger. Sharper. Quieter, somehow. But the boy you knew the one who always gave you the last bite of his sandwich, who held your hand during thunderstorms, who whispered secrets to you in the dark he’s still there.

“Do you think we can go back?” you ask, your voice barely audible over the city noise.

He steps close. Not touching, not yet. But close enough that you feel the pull in your chest like gravity.

“I don’t want to go back,” he says. “I want to start again.”

His next words crack something open.

“You know how often I used to write texts I never sent. Every race, every flight. I’d delete them before takeoff like an idiot.” His voice breaks, just slightly. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to see you again?”

You nod, because you do. Because every stupid highlight reel of his wins made your heart ache. Because you once screamed into your pillow after seeing him kiss someone else in the paddock and you thought you’d missed your chance for good.

He reaches out. Not touching you yet, just hovering. “I’m never losing you again.”

Your breath catches.

“Max…”

“No. Don’t.” His fingers find yours. Threaded. Familiar. “Please. I’ve won everything I ever wanted. Except this.”

Your forehead presses to his chest before you can stop yourself, and he holds you like he remembers exactly how to. Like he’s angry at the space between you. Like if he squeezes tight enough, you’ll forget the wasted years and remember everything else.

“I missed you so much,” you whisper.

“Don’t ever leave again,” he mutters into your hair.

You don’t answer with words. You don’t even think you just act on instinct.

You kiss him.

Desperate but somehow gentle. A question.

He answers with a hand on your waist, the other on your cheek, anchoring you like he used to when the world spun too fast.

And just like that, you’re fifteen again. And twenty-two. And every version of yourself that ever loved him.

Later, when he walks you back to your room, he doesn’t try to come in.

He just stands there in the hallway, thumb brushing your knuckles.

“I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t,” you promise.

His eyes soften. “Stay. In Monaco. Just for a while.”

You bite your lip. “Max…”

“Not just for me,” he says quickly. “For you. For us. Let’s see where this goes.”

You look at him, this man who waited years, who still looks at you like you hung the stars and you know the answer, you’ve always known.

“Okay.”

And when he leans in, forehead resting against yours, everything feels still.

You were always meant to find your way back to him.

It was always Max.

Always you.

Even after all this time

Taglist: @shigarika @bunnisplayground @thecoolpotatohologram @ymrereads @alexxavicry @gigglepre @esw1012 @satorinnie @percysaidnever @osclerc @sainzluvrr @autumn242 @shadowreader07 @joyfulpandamiracle @inmynotes63 @athanasia-day @embonbon @waterdeeply @shadowsoundeffects13 @fastandcurious16 @odegaardlia @skzvibes-blog @iambored24601 @e10owmaks @painfromblues @brokenvines-wiltingflowers @leo-twins-3107 @rxx-eegh @treatallwithkindness @lewishamiltonismybf @mara1999 @armystay89 @ramonaflwsr @zazima @valevv30 @mischiefmxnxgedhp @yoonessa @wordskeeper @freyathehuntress @brumstappen @irenkaproszepana @butterkaput @lenamds

[p1girlfriend]

father’s day with him as your baby daddy ── .✦

content: dad fluff, soft chaos, baby giggles

lando norris ── .✦

“they got me a bib that says 'daddy’s fastest lap' and I’m gonna cry.” he wakes up to your baby in a helmet-themed onesie and your sleepy kiss. tries to act cool but chokes up when they hand him a crayon drawing that says “i luv you dada” you tell him he’s doing great and he immediately makes a TikTok about it while holding the baby upside down (giggling, not in danger).

oscar piastri ── .✦

you and your toddler bring him pancakes in bed. he looks like he’s holding it together but he absolutely tears up when the baby hugs him and says “papa.”

“I didn’t know I could love anything this much.” takes a hundred quiet photos of you two. won’t stop smiling the rest of the day. takes them to a bookstore and calls it “dad time.”

charles leclerc ─ .✦

cries. literally cries. his baby gives him a squished flower and he holds it like it’s a trophy.

“Mon coeur, did you help mama pick this for me?” walks around with the baby strapped to his chest all day. takes 40 photos of you and the baby together and captions them “my heart” in every group chat he’s ever been in.

lewis hamilton ─ .✦

it’s giving gentle king energy. homemade breakfast. jazz in the background. your baby in a bucket hat and oversized shades just like him. he thanks you 50 times throughout the day for “giving me the greatest gift I’ve ever had.” writes a caption so long on IG about fatherhood it makes everyone cry.

carlos sainz ─ .✦

pretends it’s just another day. but then your baby gives him a card with scribbles and he looks like he’s been punched in the soul.

“They made this… for me?” yes, king. lets them crawl all over him during the day. accidentally falls asleep holding both of you on the couch.

daniel ricciardo ─ .✦

full clown dad. matching outfits. he puts the baby in a cowboy hat.

“they’re baby yee and I’m haw.” gets emotional over a handmade card with glitter. turns to you: “you made me a dad. that’s, like, top tier sexy.” definitely ends the night with cake… and cuddles.

gabriel bortoleto ─ .✦

he is the softest, calmest dad. wakes up to the baby snuggled between you two, babbling nonsense. holds your hand over breakfast like

“this is my dream, sabia?” tells you that you’re the best mama in the world. takes your baby on a little walk around the block so you can nap. comes back with flowers for you.

franco colapinto ─ .✦

your baby says “papa” while holding a soft toy and he just. shuts down.

“that’s it. i’m done. take my whole soul.” you made a handmade Father’s Day card “from the baby” and he carries it in his wallet like a relic. refuses to let go of your waist all day. “we’re a little family. do you realize how cool that is?”

max verstappen ─ .✦

he’s weirdly nervous about his first Father’s Day

“do I get gifts? am I supposed to do something?” you surprise him with a matching race suit onesie for your baby. he melts. “they’re gonna be faster than me one day.” doesn’t say much — but holds your baby like they’re glass. kisses you goodnight and whispers “thank you for them.”

©p1girlfriend | requested | requests open!

[livwritessometimes]

I Have Not Given Up On Us Yet

: Part 16 (Max's Version)

: Who knew all Max needed to do was get drunk in order to get his life together

: Prev | Next

: Series Masterlist

: Main Masterlist

…

It was almost 12 by the time Y/n had gotten the call, and by 12:05, she was on her way. The entire time, she kept thinking about how she almost didn't answer. What would have happened had she not?

By 12:30, she was in the station, standing awkwardly in front of the help desk, waiting for the officer in front of her to finish the phone call he was having. Looking around the station, she could feel her heart beating in her ears. There weren't many people there, just one other person waiting in the chair near the door.

"Hi, sorry for the delay. How can I help you?" said the officer. Snapping her attention back to the man, Y/n said, "umm...I got a call. I'm here to collect Max Verstappen." "Ahh you must be Y/n, right? Yes, just fill out this form and he's all yours. I'll send someone to get him," said the officer as he ushered someone to go get Max. "Umm, officer, is it okay if I ask why he was arrested?" Y/n said as she looked up from the forms. "He was drunk and got in an argument with the bartender. We detained him before things could escalate. He's lucky the bar didn't press any charges," said the officer as he excused himself to finish some work.

After filling the form, she handed the officer the paperwork. "Y/n!" Her head snapped in the direction of the voice. There stood Max, in a hoodie and jeans, looking sheepish, like a kid who got caught stealing candies before dinner. Once he confirmed it was her, he rushed towards her. "I can't believe you came!" Max said as he pulled her into a hug. Standing there stunned at this man's drunk antics, "Oh Max, you absolute idiot, of course I came," she said as she pushed him away and started to head for the door. She reached the door only to realize Max was not following her. "You coming or what?" She questioned. "Yesss, I gotta pee first," said Max as he made his way to the washroom. Y/n sighed at that and took a seat, waiting for Max to return. "Good look with that," said the officer she had interacted with before, walking away.

Max was quieter now. He had been since he returned from the washroom. He kept looking at Y/n and then looking away. It was fine for the first fifteen minutes, but now it was starting to annoy her. "If you wanna say something, just say it," she said before looking back ahead again. "Nothing, It's just, I- I feel so stupid," said Max as he rubbed his face, trying to sober up. Y/n looked at him, waiting for him to continue. "I didn't want you to find out about this because I thought you'd leave me," Max said before he stopped walking. She turned to face him as he continued, "But my dad, you know how he can be. He kept saying all this stuff. Like I'm not doing enough, I'm wasting my time. There are the years where I should 'Focus on my career' and I just-" Max took a deep breath as he looked up, struggling to find the right words. "I just, I thought maybe he was right. So I thought ending this was the right thing to do but then you left, and it didn't feel right. All of a sudden, the house was empty, and I kept telling myself that it was fine, cause I'm supposed to focus on my future, right? But it's not. I don't think it ever will be," said Max as he finally looked at Y/n.

She stood there, taking in everything he had to say. "Do you hate me?" Max asked. By now, his eyes were slightly red. "Cause it's okay if you do. I am used to messing everything up," he finished. Taking his face in her hands, Y/n said, "You didn't mess everything up." "When I realized how late I was, I had rushed to get back home. I was so scared that I was gonna upset you even more, and then I saw what you did and it made me feel so guilty. I thought to myself, maybe you are better off without me. Girls like you don't deserve guys like me," Max said as a tear rolled down his eye.

They stood there for a while, looking at each other, unsure of what to do next. Both had said things that hurt the other, and this was not something they could just forget and be done with. Slowly, Y/n let go of his face and grabbed his hand, pulling him in the direction of their apartment. "I'm not promising anything," Y/n said, looking at Max. "But I have not given up on us yet," she continued as they made their way home.

…

Tags: @regalbanshee | @be-your-coffee-pot | @mrsbrxkkxr | @princessria127 | @moonraysandstars | @prettiest-at-the-party | @theblueblub | @magixpracticality | @slytherinhollands | @overlyexcitedoutlaw | @marvel-at-stucky | @crumbssss | @a-beaverhausen | @felicityforyou | @gigigreens | @jas0nluvr | @khaylin27 | @imsiriuslyreal | @cwiphswmwasohmm | @wobblymug | @e-nonsense | @raizelchrysanderoctavius | @cecedrake2217 | @vintagefucksstuff | @st4rg1rln | @redstappen | @iamred-iamyellow | @tashisgf | @ghost-of-student-sufferings | @saachiep81 | @lozzamez3 | @ravisinghs-wife | @elizamoe133 | @areyoutheregoditsmecelia | @formulaal | @luvsforme | @annabellelee | @a-disturbing-self-reflection | @emryb | @grovelingmen | @illicit-affcirs | @iwilleatyourgod | @youre-on-your-ownkid | @originaldreamerdragon | @landorris | @mountvesuvu | @chezmardybum | @littlegrapejuice | @spitesfvl-blog | @juleshadalittlelamb | @vicurious28 | @phd-catstealer |

[cressidagrey]

Mother Nature

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Felicity Leong-Piastri (Original Character)

Part of the The mysterious Mrs. Piastri Series.

Summary:   Oscar wants some peace and quiet after the Miami GP. 

Warnings and Notes: Do I like Hiking? Nope. But I feel like this is something Felicity and Oscar would actually do. Also one mention of a past eating disorder.

Big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble 😂

The woods were still. Dew clung to the undergrowth, sunlight dappling in long golden patches through the trees. Birdsong filtered gently through the canopy. Somewhere far behind them, the world was still spinning—grid gossip, media soundbites, and Miami’s pastel chaos—but here, there was just the rhythm of boots on soil, the rustle of breeze, and Bee humming softly behind his ear.

Oscar exhaled.

They’d been walking since early morning, starting near Leith Hill Tower, climbing steadily through the forest. He could feel the weight of Bee in the carrier against his back—her chin tucked sleepily on his shoulder now, fingers tangled in the strap of his hoodie. Nearly four, and still not quite ready to do the whole hike herself, but stubborn enough to demand she start on her own legs before eventually giving in to the ride.

Felicity walked just ahead of him, hair tied in a loose braid, a thermos clipped to her backpack and mud already splattered up her leggings. She turned slightly to look back at him, one eyebrow raised in a silent question. He nodded—still good—and she smiled before turning back to the path.

God, he’d missed this.

No cameras. No ring lights. No microphones shaped like martini glasses. Just trees, and silence, and the two people he wanted most.

They used to do this nearly every week. During the Enstone year, when everything else was grim and grey—when the apartment walls were too thin and the furniture too cheap and Oscar’s future too uncertain—they hiked. Surrey hills. South Downs. Sometimes just long walks through fields behind the village shops. Back then, Felicity was the only thing steady. She kept him grounded, even when everything else felt like scaffolding ready to fall.

In 2020, when Bee was born, and those first weeks were a blur of monitors and sterile NICU silence, Oscar had felt like he was held together by tape. 

When they finally brought her home—tiny, scarred, brilliant—he started running with her. Not to get fitter. Not to train. But because movement meant control, and control meant he didn’t fall apart. Sometimes, when Bee couldn’t sleep and Felicity hadn’t eaten, he’d strap her into the jogger pram and run until her breathing slowed and his own heart calmed.

She’d grown up like that—wrapped against him as miles passed. He wasn’t sure she even knew that most dads didn’t take their toddlers running on country roads while naming trees and talking about downforce.

Ten miles in, and she was still content, even if sleepy. Occasionally mumbling “leaf,” or “mud,” or once, “Papa sweaty,” with absolute disdain.

Oscar huffed a laugh, glancing at Felicity again. She was crouched by a small patch of wildflowers, showing Bee something—a bee, probably, or a rock that looked like a dinosaur. She never pointed out grand things. Always the quiet ones. The hidden ones. And Bee absorbed it all.

They hiked in silence for a little while longer. The trail narrowed, and Oscar adjusted Bee’s weight, listening to her snuffle behind him.

He didn’t say it out loud—he rarely did—but these were the moments that made it all feel worth it. Not the podiums or the contracts. Not the headlines or the hype. Just this.

By the time they reached the zenith,Bee was fast asleep.

She’d nodded off somewhere around mile 10, one chubby cheek smushed against Oscar’s shoulder, her breath warm and rhythmic against the nape of his neck. Her tiny hands still clutched the strap of the carrier, though her fingers twitched every now and then like she was dreaming of climbing trees or chasing chickens back home.

The trail on the way down was easier. Looser, winding, gentle underfoot.

Oscar shifted his weight slightly, careful not to jostle her. He could feel the soft heaviness of her sleep against him, her body completely relaxed in that trustful way toddlers had when they felt safe.

He slowed his pace just a little.

Ahead of him, Felicity had paused by the edge of the trail to wait for him. Her hair was falling out of its braid, and she had a leaf stuck to her sock. She looked up and smiled at the sight of him trudging down the path, their daughter a bundled little koala against his back.

“She’s out?” she asked softly.

“Completely,” he said. “Didn’t even fight it this time.”

Felicity grinned. “Must’ve inherited my stamina.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “She sprinted through a patch of nettles earlier. You were the one who stopped to name all the moss.”

“It was rare moss,” she said, mock offended. “And I was educating your child.”

“She fell asleep halfway through your speech about root systems.”

“Honestly, so rude of her.”

He chuckled, stepping closer. Felicity brushed a few strands of hair off Bee’s forehead where they’d stuck to his hoodie. Her fingers lingered for a moment, just long enough to fix the strap, and then dropped.

They kept walking.

Below them, the hills began to roll out into open fields. A dog barked faintly somewhere in the distance. The world was waking up.

Oscar didn’t say much on the descent. He didn’t have to. Felicity’s arm brushed his every now and then. Bee’s tiny exhales tickled the back of his neck.

The gravel crunched underfoot as they finally stepped into the small car park near Leith Hill’s edge.

Oscar’s legs ached — that deep, familiar pull from too many miles and not enough downhill grace — but he didn’t mind. Not when Bee was still fast asleep, a warm, limp little weight against his back, her curls damp with sweat and her hand tucked under her chin like she was curled into bed.

Felicity walked a little ahead, already fishing the car keys out of her jacket. “She’s really not going to wake up, huh?”

“Out like a light,” Oscar murmured. “I think we broke her.”

“We did let her climb half the hill like a goat before remembering she’s three.”

“She insisted on it. Said she wanted to beat her personal best.”

“Her personal best is usually a tree stump.”

Oscar laughed quietly as they reached the car. Felicity opened the back door with a practiced flick, then held it open with her hip while reaching up to help unbuckle the carrier.

“Okay,” she whispered, hands gentle on the straps. “Let’s tag-team this.”

Oscar tilted his shoulders, careful not to jostle Bee, and crouched slightly. “You take her arms, I’ll handle the leg straps.”

“On three?”

“One… two…”

Bee gave a soft snore.

“Abort,” Felicity said quickly, freezing mid-unclip. “She’s twitching.”

Oscar paused, holding perfectly still as their daughter’s brow furrowed slightly in her sleep — then settled again, cheek smushed adorably against his hoodie.

They both exhaled like they were defusing a bomb.

Felicity tried again, this time even slower, managing to slide Bee’s arms out of the straps without waking her. Oscar crouched lower, catching her under the arms as she slowly sagged into him like a sleepy sandbag.

“She’s dead weight,” he whispered, adjusting his hold. “Like carrying a damp loaf of bread.”

“A very cute loaf,” Felicity murmured, brushing Bee’s curls off her face as she flopped sleepily against Oscar’s chest, her thumb halfway to her mouth.

“Think I can strap her into the car seat without waking her?”

“You drive F1 cars for a living,” Felicity said. “I believe in you.”

Oscar grinned.

Between the two of them, with the skill of sleep-deprived parents everywhere, they managed it. Bee stirred once — a little whimper, a scrunched brow — but Oscar whispered, “Shh, it’s okay, Bumblebee,” and stroked her back, and she settled again like nothing had happened.

They both shut their doors quietly.

Inside the car, the air was cooler. Bee’s head lolled to the side, soft breaths misting the window. Oscar twisted in his seat to check her one more time.

“She’s still out,” he said, voice low.

Felicity glanced back too, then smiled, soft and proud. “That was her longest hike yet.”

Oscar reached for her hand across the center console and laced their fingers together. “She’ll be climbing mountains soon.”

“She already does,” Felicity said. “Just on your back.”

Oscar leaned his head against the seat and smiled.

This.

This was what peace looked like.

Not headlines. Not trophies.

Just this. 

***

The drive home was quiet.

Bee stayed asleep the entire way, her head slumped to the side in her car seat, thumb still curled near her mouth. Felicity had kicked off her boots and tucked her feet under her on the passenger seat, absently scrolling through photos on her phone — most of them blurry shots of Bee pointing at squirrels or Oscar carrying her up the ridge trail like a human pack mule.

They’d barely cleared Dorking when Oscar turned into the McDonald’s drive-thru.

Felicity blinked up. “What are you doing?”

“Making an executive decision,” Oscar said solemnly.

“I literally made lentil stew last night,” she muttered. “We have prepped meals. We have hummus.”

“We also just walked nearly twenty miles with a toddler and haven’t eaten since noon.”

“You had trail mix.”

“I had five sad almonds and a raisin.”

Felicity opened her mouth — paused — then closed it again. “Fine.”

“You’re not going to make me a chart about preservatives later, are you?” Oscar asked as they waited.

Felicity just sighed. “Only if you order fries.”

Oscar pulled up to the speaker. “Can I get one chocolate milkshake and two vanilla, please?”

Bee stirred faintly in the back.

“Make that one vanilla, one strawberry,” Felicity said. “Vanilla is her sleepy choice.”

Oscar grinned at her. “So you do want one.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she muttered.

The voice on the speaker confirmed the order, and a minute later, Oscar was handing over three sweating plastic cups with those too-thick red straws. He passed one to Felicity, who took it like someone receiving contraband.

“I can,” Oscar said cheerfully, taking a long slurp. “You made your own peanut butter last week, you’ve earned it.”

Felicity narrowed her eyes, but the first sip hit her tongue and she visibly wilted. “Oh no. It’s perfect. This is why I don’t let myself have them.”

Oscar glanced sideways at her — head tipped against the window, ponytail loose, cheeks pink from the wind, lashes smudged slightly under her eyes. She looked tired, and soft, and so, so alive.

He thought — not for the first time — about the girl she used to be.

When they were 14 and she was so thin that she looked like a gust of wind could carry her away. When she didn’t eat because that felt like the one thing in her life that she could control. 

Teenage Felicity would have looked at a McDonald’s milkshake like it was poison.

And here she was. 23 now. Ponytail falling out, curls soft around her face, pink-cheeked and barefoot in his passenger seat. Drinking vanilla milkshake without apology.

His heart ached with how proud he was of her.

“Don’t tell the sourdough,” she sighed.

Oscar laughed.

“Bee,” Oscar called gently. “Want a milkshake?”

His daughter’s eyes opened in slow motion, and the second she saw the cup in his hand, she sat bolt upright like she'd been summoned by sugar-based witchcraft. “Strawberry?!”

Felicity sighed. “You have created a monster.”

Oscar passed the cup back. “And I love her.”

Bee clutched the milkshake with both hands and immediately slurped like it was her life source. Then she leaned her head against the side of her car seat and sighed in bliss.

Oscar looked over at Felicity, who was halfway through hers now and trying to look unimpressed. “You can admit it. McDonald’s milkshake is your weakness.”

She took another long sip and gave him a deeply betrayed look.

“I’ll deny everything,” she said. “This never happened.”

Oscar raised his cup in toast. “To our health queen, momentarily dethroned by the glory of vanilla extract and industrial-grade dairy stabiliser.”

Felicity bumped her cup against his with a resigned sigh. “God help me if Bee remembers this.”

Bee, licking artificial strawberry off her straw, chirped: “Best. Hike. Ever.”

It wasn’t perfect.

But it was theirs.

And right now, it tasted like strawberry milkshake and everything being exactly enough.

***

Instagram Post - @/oscarpiastri ✅

Comments: 

@/maxfewtrell: 🤨 i blinked and oscar turned into a poet

@/yourgfcarla: she’s SO PRETTY it’s giving forest nymph who knows how to rebuild a gearbox

@/brakebiasfanclub: he really said: you don’t get to know her, you just get to witness that she exists 🫢

@/formulawives: "still the best part"??? WE'RE SO UNWELL

@/f1updatesdaily who took this picture of oscar’s mysterious engineer wife. was it oscar. is oscar the wife guy of the year. discuss.

@/sourdough_sinners not her looking like a woodland elf who makes spreadsheets for fun

@/f1wifelore why does this feel like a Victorian love letter via Instagram

@/felicitysfanpage i am once again asking for her skincare routine and engine oil preferences

@/danielricciardo she’s out of your league. respectfully.

@/maxverstappen1 did you hike or was this just a nature photoshoot disguised as cardio

@/mclaren Nature looks good on you, Oscar 🍃

@/sophiagracewrites this feels like page 237 of a novel where the main character realizes they’ve been in love the whole time

@/user193847 you guys he’s in love love 💀💀💀

@/f1girlsbookclub oscar piastri hikes??? like with boots and effort????

@/tiregirlie420 idk what i expected from him but it was NOT forest-core husband energy

@/slowpitstopfan excuse me?? he hikes?? regularly??? does McLaren know about this??

@/gaslythotwife I thought he got his cardio in by being emotionally evasive 😭

@/helmetontilt the real plot twist isn’t the mystery wife. it’s that oscar piastri willingly walks uphill in his free time.

@/brakesbeforeboys nah the idea of oscar being like “let’s get some air” and just vanishing into the HILLS is doing things to me

@/be.forreal do we think he uses a hydration pack. i need to know if oscar piastri owns a hydration pack.

@/gridwivesanonymous HE’S NOT EVEN TAGGING HER BUT HE IS GIVING HER “SOFT FOCUS IN THE GOLDEN HOUR LIGHT” ENERGY. THIS IS MARRIAGE. THIS IS A HIKE-BASED LOVE STORY.

@/notyourpitstop just realized that means he wears fleece. like fleece and hiking boots. i’m so unwell.

@/pitlanepropaganda

me: he's a calm analytical driver with an insane corner exit

also me, looking at this post: HE’S A WHIMSICAL FOREST HUSBAND WHO HOLDS HER HAND OVER TREE ROOTS

[harrysfolklore]

matchmaker - op81

summary: oscar finds a puppy wandering around the streets of monaco that leads him to meet his lucky charm

folkie radio: AN OSCAR FIC FINALLY OMG!!!! i have to say thank you to @cambrayficsrecs for sending this idea !! i LOVED IT and i hope you like this

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, yourbff and 209 others

yourinstagram meet the newest monaco resident: arlo 🤍 swipe to see the goodest boy helping me settle in my new home 🐾

view all comments

yourbff HE'S PERFECT!! miss you already but so happy for you 😭

username1 the cutest addition to monaco!!

username2 remember when you said you'd never get a dog? 😂

alexandrasaintmleux my new favorite neighbor!!! can't wait for our puppy playdates 🤍

↳ yourinstagram arlo and leo are going to be bffs 🥹🥹

username3 told you moving to monaco was the best decision

username4 i'm visiting asap just to meet this angel

yourbff2 can't believe my best friend lives in monaco now

username5 you're living the dream with the goodest boy!

username6 look at that face!! when can i visit?

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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texts between alex and yn

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 583,827 others

oscarpiastri Enjoyed being a temporary dog dad today 🐾 glad this good boy made it back home safe! might have to get one of my own now...

view all comments

username1 MY HEARTTT

username2 OSCAR YOU CAN’T DO THIS

maxverstappen1 Don't let lando see this

↳ landonorris too late. getting a dog.

mclaren Best teammate and dog sitter 🧡

username3 OSCAR WITH A PUPPY THIS IS NOT A DRILL

username4 the wholesome content we needed today

alexandrasaintmleux arlo already misses his rescuer! thanks again oscar 🤍

username5 get this man a dog asap

username6 the way he took care of a stranger's dog 🥺

username7 okay but imagine oscar with his own puppy

username8 JUST GET A DOG

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

yourinstagram has added to their stories

replies:

yourbff ARLO OMG 🥺🥺 what happened to him?

↳ yourinstagram sneaky little minx disappeared from the balcony.. he’s safe tho

username1 omg poor you! good thing you found him

username2 is this knight in shinning armor who saved arlo cute?

↳ yourinstagram STOP 😭

username3 i need to visit so i can meet arlo

alexandrasaintmleux I could give you his insta… or his number 👀

↳ yourinstagram STOP IT ALEX

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

texts between alex and yn

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri and 28,724 others

yourinstagram turns out the nice guy who found arlo last week also happens to be pretty good at driving cars 🏎️ congrats on p2! @/oscarpiastri

view all comments

username1 GIRL WHAT IS YOUR LIFE RN

username2 you move to monaco and suddenly you're in f1 garages???

alexandrasaintmleux told you you'd love f1 🤍

↳ yourinstagram love you !

username3 OMG OSCAR

username4 SHES THE OWNER OF THE DOG

username5 this plot twist though 👀

mclaren 🧡

username6 the way this all started because arlo escaped

charles_leclerc I won you know? 🤔

↳ yourinstagram congrats charles !

username7 YOUR LIFE IS A MOVIE

username8 the best meet cute ever??

oscarpiastri Couldn't have done it without my good luck charm 🐾

↳ yourinstagram arlo says you’re welcome!

username9 IS THIS THE OWNER??

username10 the cutest storyline of the season

username11 THE WAY HE COMMENTED

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

oscarpiastri sent you a direct message

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 14,826 others

f1gossip Oscar Piastri spotted having coffee with the owner of the now-famous beagle puppy in Monaco this morning 👀

view all comments

username1 THE WAY THIS STORY KEEPS GETTING BETTER

username2 from rescuing her dog to coffee dates we love this journey

username3 this is better than drive to survive

username4 THEY’RE SO CLOSE HELLO

username5 this is the cutest thing ever help

username6 the fact that the dog is there too 😭

username7 someone check on lando he's losing his bachelor buddy

username8 the good luck charm strikes again

username9 living a wattpad story fr

username10 HE LOOKS SO HAPPY

liked by oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux and 47,935 others

yourinstagram turns out there's more to monaco than just fancy cars 🤍

view all comments

username1 THE WAY YOU MOVED TO MONACO AND IMMEDIATELY LIVING A ROMCOM

username2 OSCAR?????

username3 arlo the ultimate wingman

username4 this storyline keeps getting better

username5 OMFG WHAT IS THIS I NEED THE CONTEXT

alexandrasaintmleux told you he was cute 😌

↳ username1 OMFG ALEX

↳ username2 i love her

↳ charles_leclerc 😂😂😂

username6 need full story time asap

username7 the way this all started because she lost her dog 😭

username8 living for this plot development

oscarpiastri arlo approved ✅

↳ username1 OSCAR STOPPPPP

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yourinstagram has added to their stories

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texts between oscar and yn

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liked by yourinstagram, landonorris and 986,033

oscarpiastri Great weekend with the team 🧡 Ready to head back home to Monaco though... missing my favorite good luck charm 🐾"

view all comments

username1 OSCCCC

username2 is he talking about the dog? 😭

landonorris which one? 👀

↳ oscarpiastri 🤫

↳ username1 HELLO???

↳ username3 DECODE THIS

alexandrasaintmleux someone's eager to get back 😌

↳ charles_leclerc Your matchmaking services working well

↳ username1 LET ME INNNN

georgerussell63 The power of puppy love

username3 WE ALL KNOW WHICH GOOD LUCK CHARM

username4 the way he said "home" to monaco 🥺

username5 did anyone else catch him waving to someone on facetime after the race??

username6 some of this comments saying “the dog” his name is ARLO and he’s an icon

username7 i’m going to call it right now oscar is dating the dog owner

username8 OSC 😩

yourinstagram 🤍

liked by username1, username2 and 8,739 others

f1gossipinsider Straight from Barcelona to dinner in Monaco... Oscar Piastri spotted at Le Grill with a certain someone 👀

view all comments

username1 THE WAY HE DIDN'T EVEN GO HOME FIRST

username2 man flew straight from barcelona to take her to dinner i'm crying

username3 not me zooming in to confirm it's her

username4 THATS DEFINITELY YN AND ARLO UNDER THE TABLE

username5 fastest post-race exit we've ever seen

username6 Le Grill?? Man's not playing around

username7 our favorite story continues...

username8 this man SPRINTED from the circuit

username9 the commitment >>>

username10 our boy's got his priorities straight

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

texts between oscar and yn

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liked by lilymhe, oscarpiastri and 45,099 others

yourinstagram turns out watching someone drive in circles for 2 hours isn't so bad after all 🏎️ proud of you @/oscarpiastri 🧡

view all comments

username1 OMGGGG

username2 look at little arloooo

francisca.cgomes So lovely meeting you! Welcome to the family ❤️

yourbff we have soooo much catching up to do

carmenmmundt You're a natural! Can't wait for Hungary

alexandrasaintmleux look who's becoming an f1 expert

↳ charles_leclerc Stop taking credit for this

↳ alexandrasaintmleux never 😌

↳ username1 HELLO??

username3 the WAGs adopting her immediately >>

username4 ARE THEY DATING??

username5 oh what a plot twist

username6 THIS IS GIVING ME LIFE

username7 so the key go getting an f1 driver to date you is getting a dog i see

username8 ARLO IS SO CUTE

oscarpiastri Best good luck charms ever 🤍

↳ username1 OSCAR STOP

↳ username2 i simply cannot do this

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texts between alex and yn

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oscarpiastri has added to their stories

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liked by carlossainz55, yourinstagram and 1,099,832 others

oscarpiastri First Grand Prix Win. Incredible 🧡 Thank you to the two lucky charms who changed everything

view all comments

username1 IM CRYING

username2 HELLO TWO LUCKY CHARMS ??

landonorris GET IN THERE MATE!! Proud of you 🧡

alex_albon THATS MY BOY

username3 IS HE TALKING ABOUT ARLO AND YN??

username4 im actually sobbing

username5 man won his first race and chose to be THIS cute about it

username6 SOMEONE SAID HE KEPT SHOWING HER THE TROPHY

georgerussell63 CONGRATS OSCO 🙌🙌

username7 from monaco meet cute to whatever this is im crying

username8 THIS IS ADORABLE OSCAR HELLO

username9 not to be parasocial but he's so in love

username10 THE WAY ARLO WAS THERE FOR HIS WIN

yourinstagram we're incredibly proud of you 🤍

liked by username1, username2 and 10,877 others

f1gossip From first F1 win to celebration dinner - Oscar Piastri living his best life in Budapest tonight! Sources say he couldn't stop smiling and kept calling her "my girlfriend" to everyone 👀

view all comments

username1 OH MY LORD

username2 is this oscar "i don't like pda" piastri??

username3 I CANNOT BELIEVE MY EYES

username4 the way this all started bc she lost her dog...

username5 I NEED THIS TO HAPPEN TO ME

username6 this is how we find out oscar is not single anymore

username7 EVERYBODY SAY THANK YOU ARLO

username8 lord i've seen what you've done for others

username9 the best meet cute in history

username10 THAT SHOULD BE ME

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri and 60,826 others

yourinstagram home sweet home with my favorite race winner (and his trophy that he definitely didn't make me pack extra carefully) 🏆✨ still pinching myself about this weekend 🧡

view all comments

username1 CRYING

username2 the way we all watched this love story unfold

username3 most precious f1 couple no debate

landonorris Mans giving away his caps now?? love's changed him

lilymhe cutest neighbors ever! dinner tomorrow? 🤍

↳ yourinstagram count on it!

username4 LOOK AT ARLOOO I CANT

username5 i can’t believe oscar has a gf now

francisca.cgomes you two are goals honestly

mclaren Our lucky charm is back home! 🧡

username6 remember when she didn't know what DRS was 😭

username7 she's literally living the dream

username8 how to go from dog mom to f1 wag: a novel

alexandrasaintmleux my biggest masterpiece 🥹

↳ charles_leclerc STOP TAKING CREDIT

↳ alexandrasaintmleux NEVER

↳ yourinstagram arlo was the real matchmaker

username9 HOW DO I GET THIS LIFE

username10 they’re so in love i can’t

oscarpiastri My two favorite things in monaco ❤️

↳ yourinstagram three* don't forget the trophy

↳ oscarpiastri Trophy’s just a bonus 😘

liked by yourinstagram, landonorris and 1,549,022 others

oscarpiastri To the best wingman and matchmaker in F1 - thanks for running away that day in Monaco. Changed my whole life 🐾❤️ (YN says I need to stop spoiling him but look at that face)

view all comments

username1 IM FULL PN SOBBING NOW

username2 ARLOOOOO🥹🥹🥹

alex_albon most successful matchmaker in monaco

mclaren Our honorary team member 🧡

username3 i love one fairytale love story

alexandrasaintmleux YOU’RE ALL WELCOME

↳ username1 alex 😭😭

↳ charles_leclerc you're still not getting credit for this

↳ oscarpiastri It was all Arlo

username4 HE CALLED HIM HIS WINGMAN 😭

username5 from runaway dog to f1 power couple

username6 netflix writing this down rn

username7 cupid who? we only know arlo

nicolepiastri ❤️

username8 most iconic f1 meet cute ever

username9 the real mvp of the season

username10 OSCAR DOG DAD

yourinstagram our matchmaker 🤍

[jo-com]

──★ ｡𖦹°‧⭑ Love Triangle, Monaco Edition

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader x Arthur Leclerc

୨ৎ Summary: Two brothers. One girl. And a chaotic comment section

୨ৎ Genre: SMAU

୨ৎ Notes: Some grammatical error and google translated french, hope you enjoy guys!

୨ৎ Fc: Beabadoobee & Random Pinterest Girlies

ARCHIVES ⭑.ᐟ

Missgirl_

❤️ 105k 💬 15k

Liked by Charles_Leclerc, Lilymhe, Arthur_Leclerc and others

Missgirl_ Tea anyone?

View all comments

Username What’s 4 + 4?

Username ATEE🔥 ❤️ by the Author

Username the only tea i need is of you and the brothers👀

Username no cuz same😔🤚🏻

Charles_Leclerc belle comme toujours🥰

Missgirl_ tu es plutôt beau toi-même😉 ❤️ by Charles_Leclerc

Username SOMEONE PLEASE TRANSALE THIS!!

Iamrebeccad on my knees rn as we speak

Missgirl_ I DO ALREADY🤭

Carlossainz55 ???

Lando what no drama?

Username SAME GIRL SAME

Username “I am just a girl” vibes

Username he’s a girls girls fr😮‍💨

Username girl you’re not giving. you’re snatching lives.

Username this is the kind of energy you get after emotionally destroying two leclercs and sleeping fine after 💅

…

…

Arthur_Leclerc and Charles Leclerc Posted a story!

Replies:

Y/N → Charles

Always second?? you woke up and chose violence huh 💀

Only because he had to hear it 😌
But for you? I’ll always be first in line.

Lando → Charles

Bro. It’s always the poetic ones you come for 😭 Let him have his sunset, damn.

George → Arthur

I support emotional vulnerability. But maybe next time, sunset without the subtext?

Alex → Charles

Bro. He posted vibes. You posted a hit.

Oscar → Arthur

Next time just post the sun and log off man 😭 Charles came in SWINGING.

Yuki → Arthur

You should’ve just captioned it ‘nice view’ and walked away 💀

Y/N → Arthur

Very poetic of you, Arthur. Is this a sunset or a love confession? 👀

Depends. Did it work? 👀😏
If not, I’ve got more metaphors and all night.

…

Username someone get them a ref before it turns into WWE.

Lando this is better than the Netflix series tbh

Username WHY R U EVEN HERE MAN😭

Lando For the drama duh🙄🍿

Username Charles waking up and choosing violence before breakfast✊🏻✊🏻

Username Arthur blink twice if your ego’s okay rn 😭

Username this whole exchange was not FIA sanctioned

Username and here I was just tryna enjoy a sunset 🫠

Username Y/N checking her phone like it’s Hunger Games out here.

Username Y’all, it was just a sunset. A SUNSET 😭😭😭

…

Missgirl_

❤️ 1.5M 💬 178k

Missgirl_ Sibling peace treaty signed under my supervision 🕊️✨

Tagged; @Charles_Leclerc and @Arthur_Leclerc

View all comments

lando What did it cost you… mentally?

Missgirl_ sanity, patience, and 2 espresso shots before 9am 😩

Username this is what F1 Drive to Survive WISHES it could capture

Username they’re literally just waiting for you to turn around so they can start again 💀

Username Fr giving those vibes😭

Username THE WAY SHES ON THE MIDDLE PIC IS WILD

Carlossainz55 Please tell me there was a team principal supervising

Missgirl_ you’re looking at her. it’s me. hi.

Carlossainz55 🤦🏻🤦🏻🤦🏻

Pierregasly They look like they’re planning who gets to post you on IG next

Missgirl_ joke’s on them — I’m posting me ✨

Username Ferrari garage turning into family therapy

Username The real Ferrari team principal: Y/N L/N

Missgirl_ I don’t get paid enough for this sht🙄

Username the fact that you had to fix Leclerc family affairs is wild

[empyrealix]

⊹ ࣪˖ PHONE THEFT TO F1 WAG PIPELINE | #FC43

pairing. franco colapinto x tifosi!reader

synopsis. charles and carlos accidentally steal your phone. chaos is bound to ensue as you meet franco during the race charles invited you to as an apology for the phone theft he committed

warnings. like one (1) swear word

note. there's a lack of franco fics out there, so i'm fixing it

MASTERLIST ; requests open

to: yn yln (yn.yln@gmail.com) from: Ferrari PR (ferrari.pr@ferrari.com) subject: Invite to the Monaco Grand Prix 23.05.25–25.05.25

Dear Ms yln,

We heard about the incident with our driver, Charles Leclerc. On behalf of Mr Leclerc we would like to offer our sincerest apologies. Mr Leclerc has expressed a wish to invite you to the Monaco Grand Prix, or any other Grand Prix if you are unavailable for the Monaco Grand Prix.

Please let us know your availability and we will provide a paddock pass for the entire weekend.

Best regards,

Ferrari PR

yn

liked by user1, alexandrasaintmleux and 97 others

yn and to think this all happened because charlos stole my phone (thank you alexandrasaintmleux for taking the first picture)

view all comments

alexandrasaintmleux it was lovely meeting you 🫶

yn it was so nice to meet you too!! i cannot wait to meet you for lunch later

charles_leclerc ?? what

alexandrasaintmleux don't worry about it, amor

user1 remember me when you're a niche internet celebrity

yn niche internet celebrity for going to one race once 😀

carlossainz55 again, i'm so sorry for stealing your phone

yn i got it back, so no hard feelings (and charles got me a paddock pass, so i won't slander you on the internet)

charles_leclerc thank god

user2 did you forget we had an exam the DAY after the race?

yn whoops? but at least i got to go to an f1 race?

francolapinto

liked by pierregasly, alpinef1team and 501,123 others

francolapinto Monaco Grand Prix. It was a tricky weekend, but back to work and we'll be stronger in Barcelona 👊

view all comments

user3 i really hope alpine keeps franco for more than five races

alpinef1team ¡vamos!

yn it was so nice talking to you, thank you for carving the time out of your (undoubtedly) busy schedule to do so!!

francolapinto the pleasure was all mine, even though you wore the wrong team colours

yn well, if alpine had invited me and not ferrari then maybe i wouldn't have worn red

francolapinto maybe i'll just have alpine invite you to barcelona

yn a, i have university, b, i would still show up in red because that is the only right colour

francolapinto what a shame, you'd look stunning in blue

yn 😳

user4 is that franco… flirting?

user5 sorry, he's just like this

user6 so proud of you for p13!!

user7 can't wait to see what you do in barcelona next weekend 🫶

pierregasly let's go, barcelona ‼️

yn

liked by francolapinto, user1 and 85 others

yn a week ago, i was at the monaco grand prix, now i'm back at uni 💔

view all comments

carlossainz55 stay in school kids, it's important

yn did you even finish school?

carlossainz55 i did, actually

user1 so, coffee date when

yn you're literally sitting next to me, we could go right now

francolapinto you could always come to a race (and ditch uni)

carlossainz55 DO NOT LISTEN TO HIM

yn CARLOS?? i thought you liked having me around 😔

carlossainz55 I DO, but don't ditch university for a race

francolapinto we have strayed so far from the original plot of the movie

pierregasly no, we're sorry, please continue with your pathetic attempt at flirting

yn i think it's cute

francolapinto at least someone here appreciates me

francolapinto hermosa 🤩

yn my face isn't even in this??

francolapinto i can still tell, it's the vibes

user8 you know what, sure

charles_leclerc

liked by yn, alexandrasaintmleux and 869,495 others

charles_leclerc i accidentally stole a phone one time and now i've got an annoying little sister who won't leave me alone

view all comments

yn oh, i look good in that picture

francolapinto you always look good

yn 🤭

pierregasly you need to heighten your standards if that makes you blush

yn you should've included some pictures from the yacht outing in this 🙃

alexandrasaintmleux agreed!!

user9 yacht outing?? girl is living the dream

user10 phone thief to unwilling older brother is real and thriving

user11 FORZA FERRARI

user12 i want to BE her

yn probably not, uni is killing me 👍

yn reply to my text, charles, please it's an EMERGENCY

charles_leclerc is the emergency in the room with us?

yn YES??

charles_leclerc you asked for a paddock pass so you could, and i quote, "talk to franco again"

francolapinto i'm flattered, hermosa

francolapinto give her the paddock pass charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc oh god fine i'll get you a paddock pass

yn thank youuu 💕

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, francolapinto and 102 others

yn highlights from the race: conversations with franco and FERRARI P3!!! FORZA FERRARI SEMPRE 🏎️

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user13 what is that picture of franco?

yn i just found him like that

user1 forza ferrari or whatever

yn put some more enthusiasm in it???

francolapinto maybe we can go on that date soon ☺️

yn what date? i don't recall a date

francolapinto 🥹

charles_leclerc DATE? DATE? mon dieu

yn please calm down, i don't want you to get a heart attack especially at your old age

charles_leclerc …

yn i also haven't agreed to a date, but that is mostly because franco has been a COWARD and hasn't ASKED

francolapinto would you say yes if i asked

yn yes ☺️

francolapinto

liked by charles_leclerc, yn and 450,653 others

francolapinto argentina, baby 😉

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user14 FRANCO COLAPINTO IS THAT A GIRL??

user15 THE FLOWERS ‼️

user16 this is not a drill, i repeat, this is NOT a drill

user17 francoooo, you can't just do this

francolapinto actually i think i can hehehe

user18 he said fuck subtlety

user19 as he should

carlossainz55 happy for you, hermano

pierregasly how did this happen

alex_albon i'm just as confused as you are

charles_leclerc more importantly when did this happen

yn more importantly who is she

charles_leclerc 🤨

pierregasly what do you know

francolapinto 🥹 heart: broken

yn

liked by francolapinto, alex_albon and 163 others

yn hehehehe

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francolapinto what is that last picture i look like i don't care which is WRONG

yn you look cute in it

francolapinto the cute one is you, me thinks

yn psa: franco does care he was just busy finding a restaurant in the last picture

pierregasly we were getting a little worried he didn't

francolapinto YOU'RE MY TEAMMATE??

pierregasly i still like yn better

user1 so this is why you suddenly left for argentina

yn yes 🤭

charles_leclerc as your older brother i'm obligated to be protective (i'm very happy for you)

yn thank you, charlie 🫶🏻

charles_leclerc does this mean i don't have to sit and listen to you talk about franco anymore

yn no

alexandrasaintmleux ❤️

carlossainz55 so this is why i caught you sneaking around in that hotel hallway that one time

yn you promised not to speak a word of it

carlossainz55 oops?

yn you're legally required to pay reparations now, sorry i don't make the rules

francolapinto to both of us ‼️

oscarpiastri i support extorting carlos sainz

carlossainz55 can you come get your kids charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc only oscar is my child, yn is my sister 👍

francolapinto

liked by yn, pierregasly and 457,896 others

francolapinto she wore red to our first date because "you have to know that my allegiance will always be to ferrari"

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charles_leclerc i don't see the problem??

yn that's because there is no problem

user20 is franco dating the girl who got her phone stolen by charlos lmao

user21 that's charles' little sister

charles_leclerc i stole her phone and then she leeched onto me until i (reluctantly) accepted her as my sister

yn you love me

charles_leclerc i do

user22 my husband has a girlfriend 🥲

yn ferrari is forever, boyfriends come and go

user23 how does this season make you feel

yn terrible

francolapinto amor ☹️

yn i love you, i just don't like alpine

yn give my boyfriend a seat for the next season alpinef1team

scuderiaferrari don't forget your roots 💔

yn never ‼️ FORZA FERRARI SEMPRE

scuderiaferrari FORZA FERRARI

alpinef1team don't forget who provides your paddock passes yn

scuderiaferrari if you no longer want to, we'll gladly provide them

user24 not ferrari and alpine fighting over yn LMAO

yn i love you, amor ❤️

francolapinto i love you the most, estrella 🩷

[checkeredflagggs]

Brown Thumb

Pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!Brown!reader

summary: How to help a couple who’s killed every plant they’ve ever owned?

a/n: while I’m not as bad as these two, I have killed my fair share…

a/n2: and this is the last one for my Father’s Day series! Hopefully you guys enjoyed them!

Masterlist | Taglist

yn_brown

liked by landonorris, zakbrown, oscarpiastri, and 829,183 others

yn_brown: Spring is here!

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user1: oh girl not again…

↳user2: my bet is longer than 2 weeks but not more than 2 months

↳yn_brown: have a little faith please!

↳user2: girl we tried but…

↳user1: past performance informs on future results

oscarpiastri: please don’t call me at 3:30 again because you killed yet another plant

↳landonorris: but you’re supposed to know these things!

↳oscarpiastri: just because I’m Australian doesn’t mean I know plants

↳nicolepiastri: that’s very true…

↳yn_brown: do you know plants?

↳nicolepiastri: I’m sorry sweetie but. You’re beyond my help

↳yn_brown: 😓😓

zakbrown: maybe it’s time to pick another hobby?

↳yn_brown: you’re supposed to support me in all my endeavors!

↳zakbrown: honey you’ve managed to kill every single living thing that you’ve brought into your apartment

↳yn_brown: those were all defective

↳zakbrown: honey…

alex_albon: you’re gonna get this one!

↳landonorris: thanks for believing in us!

↳alex_albon: oh I don’t, I just have money resting on this

↳landonorris: 😑😑😑

user3: dragging the Brown-Norris household for their brown thumbs wasn’t on my bingo card for the day but I’m loving it

↳user4: I mean they kinda deserve it…those poor plants…

Bluesky

Private Messages, Zak and y/n

yn_brown

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, lilyzneimer, and 827,613 others

tagged: zakbrown

yn_brown: thanks dad for the new members of the family!

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user5: oh boy not again…

user6: I believe in you!

landonorris: These are gonna be the ones! I can feel it

↳yn_brown: they are! We’re gonna be plant parents!

↳georgerussell63: Are you two going to be hosting another funeral for when these perish?

↳landonorris: you frickin muppet!

↳yn_brown: oh I’ll be hosting a funeral but it won’t be for a plant!

oscarpiastri: good luck

↳yn_brown: at least someone has faith in us!

↳oscarpiastri: I do not but one can remain hopeful in hopeless

↳yn_brown: I’m gonna get dad to fire you

↳zakbrown: Y/N you can’t say that

↳yn_brown: but!

↳zakbrown: I’m not going to fire him just because he was bullying you

↳yn_brown: then what use is it to be your daughter???

↳landonorris: you met me??

↳yn_brown: yes I did 🥰🥰🥰

↳oscarpiastri: on my comment thread??

Bluesky

user7: I’m gonna go optimistic! And say…3 months

↳user8: 3 whole months??? That’s not optimistic — that’s crazy

↳user7: one day they’ll figure it out

user9: I think they’ll break their record and kill them in less than 2 weeks

↳user10: harsh

↳user10: but probably true

user11: hmmm….

↳user12: aren’t those the ones we got mom?

↳user11: yeah I think so…

↳user12: and weren’t they…?

↳user11: yup

↳user12: oh this is gonna be funny

↳user13: anything you want to share with the class?

↳user11: oh nothing yet…

landonorris

liked by yn_brown, oscarpiastri, georgerussell63, and 1,937,294 others

tagged: yn_brown

landonorris: haters gonna hate but these plants 🪴 are gonna live!!

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user7: I told you guys!! They were gonna get it eventually!

↳user8: I still can’t believe it…4 months strong…

yn_brown: so proud of us babe!

↳landonorris: knew we could do it!!

↳zakbrown: good job kids 👍

georgerussell63: well I’ve never been happier to be proven wrong

↳landonorris: I told you — you should have believed in us from the start!

↳yn_brown: yeah!

↳user14: I mean it’s kinda hard to do that when you’ve killed literally every single other one…

↳georgerussell63: ^^^

alex_albon: damn…lost some good money on this…

↳yn_brown: hahaha

↳alex_albon: 🙁🙁

↳landonorris: your the one who bet against us!

user12: you’re doing great sweethearts!

↳user11: so good!

↳yn_brown: that’s a little condescending for me but I’ll take it!!

Bluesky

user15: OH MY GOD 😂😂😂

user16: this is the funniest thing ever

user17: I can’t believe it…

user18: it took them 5 months to figure it out?!?

user19: I can’t believe Zak bought her fake plants to take care of…

↳user20: I can’t believe it took them this long to figure out that they weren’t real

user21: oh to be a fly on that wall when y/n talks to her dad…

↳user22: oop

Private Messages, Zak/Lando and y/n

mclaren

liked by y/n_norris, oscarpiastri, and 2,924,492 others

tagged: landonorris

mclaren: This week, as we come closer to Father’s Day, we’d like to showcase some extraordinary fathers on our team — including new proud dad Lando Norris! To show some appreciation, we got him a new plant for his collection!

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landonorris: this is such a low blow guys…

↳mclaren: we’re just being supportive Lando!

y/n_norris: I’m disowning you guys

↳mclaren: we’re genuinely heartbroken right now 💔💔

↳y/n_norris: you deserve it

user23: y/n literally changed her name 😂😭

↳y/n_norris: I've disowned them — I’m a Norris now

↳landonorris: hell yeah you are

↳adam_norris_pure_electric: welcome to the family dear — Cisca

alex_albon: mclaren you should have let us know — we would have gotten him one too!

↳georgerussell63: oh absolutely!

↳mclaren: there’s always next year! liked by alex_albon, georgerussell63

↳landonorris: I’m running you both off the track

user24: ok this is actually the best day of my life

oscarpiastri: happy Father’s Day Lando

↳landonorris: not you too…

↳oscarpiastri: 🤷🏼‍♂️

Taglist

Please interact with my taglist post if you want to join — I don’t always check the notes on the individual posts

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @lost4lyrics @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @il0vereadingstuff @widow-cevans @1-of-my-many-obsessions @charlesgirl16 @anunstablefangirl @princessesgarden @galaxygurlll @shelbyteller @ihaveitprinteddout @allthings-fandom @mountainshuman @daisydaze111 @deephideoutmilkshake @mimisweetz @books-fangirl-books @woderfulkawaii @fastandcurious16 @lilyofthevalley-09 @rexit-mo @alessa-the-enchantress @1800-love-me @greantii i @toodeepintofandoms @tukes @lecfosimaxbull @dramaticpiratellamas @devilacot @supernatural-harrypotter7 @nightrose-18 @alexxavicry @vhkdncu2ei8997 @purplephantomwolf @shadowreader07 @stuffyownswrld @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @deena-beena-weena @sheslikeacurse @kuolonsyoja

[feinzleclerc]

A Hundred Kisses I've Already Given You | Cl16

starring ; charles leclerc x reader fem!

summary ; Where you make a list of 100 kisses very important to you and Charles.

warnings ; ¹ English is not my first language. ² Brazilian making a point of mentioning Brazil. 🙋🏻‍♀️

word count ; 5.1k words.

notes ; PART 01 | 02 • 03, 04 & 05 COMING SOON.

MAIN MASTERLIST CHARLES LECLERC MASTERLIST

21. Victory Kiss

The phone was still trembling in your hands when the apartment door slammed against the wall. Charles stood there, in his gym clothes—he’d made a point of sprinting out of the gym as soon as he got the news—with the wildest eyes you’d ever seen.

—SAY IT’S TRUE.— he demanded, his voice roaring like an engine.

You barely had time to nod before he lifted you into the air, spinning you like a tire skidding through the final turn. Your phone flew onto the couch, the FIA’s message still glowing on the screen: "Congratulations, you’ve been accepted into the sports journalism program."

—YOU’RE GONNA COVER MY RACES!— he growled, his white teeth flashing in a smile that would make the sun jealous.

The kiss felt like celebrating on the podium—he pinned you against the wall, his hands—the same ones that adjusted front wings with millimeter precision—shaking as they cradled your face.

—Merde, I love you— he gasped, pulling away just enough to speak. —You’re gonna be the worst distraction on the track.

You laughed, the imaginary trophy of your career replaced by something far better—his lips tasting like cheap champagne and the future.

—Promise you’ll give me exclusive interviews?— you teased, nipping at his lower lip.

Charles responded by throwing your arms over his shoulders and marching toward the bedroom:

—I’ll give you coverage so exclusive the FIA will have to make new rules.

Now your notepad stayed open on the page where "Questions for Charles Leclerc" had turned into "1001 Ways to Distract Me in the Paddock."

And the charming way he called you "Miss Journalist" every time you complained about the next day’s practice schedule.

Your first FIA badge hung on his bedroom mirror. "To remind us we now have two careers to cheer for."

22. Relief Kiss

The apartment was silent, lit only by the blue glow of the TV tuned to some random movie channel. You sat on the couch, feet aching after an endless day, when the sound of the door opening echoed. Charles walked in, his Ferrari jumpsuit tied around his waist, his shirt damp with sweat, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. He didn’t even need to speak—you opened your arms, and he collapsed into you like a sinking boat reaching safe harbor.

—Dead?— you asked, fingers tangling in his damp curls.

He only groaned in response, burying his face in your neck like it was the only place in the world that still made sense. His warm lips brushed your skin in a kiss that was more sigh than movement, and you felt the weight of the entire day leaving him in an almost imperceptible shudder.

—Hated every second without you— his voice was muffled, the words warm against your collarbone.

You laughed, breathing in his familiar scent—gasoline, coffee, and something uniquely Charles—seeping into you.

—You’re only saying that because you lost.

He lifted his face just enough to glare at you, his green eyes dark as wet asphalt.

—Losing I can handle.— he murmured, lips finding that spot below your ear that made you squirm. —Being without you? Never.

Then he settled back into place, his cold nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck, his heavy hands pulling you closer. There was no hurry, no hunger, no desperation—just Charles, his warmth, and the certainty that the world could wait.

And when you finally led him to bed? He gripped your wrist like a child afraid of losing his favorite toy. "Stay," he mumbled, already half-asleep. As if you could be anywhere else.

23. Heart-Soothing Kiss

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you made coffee. A message from Charles himself:

"Love, got into a little accident. I’m fine, swear. Just the bumper’s a bit bent."

Your heart stopped. This wasn’t an F1 race—no tire barriers, no medical team rushing in. Just some random intersection, a distracted driver, ordinary life proving just as dangerous as the track.

You arrived before the tow truck. His car—the one he loved so much—had its rear crumpled, glass shattered on the asphalt. And there he was, leaning against a police car’s hood with a sheepish smile and a bruise on his forehead.

—Looks worse than it is— he tried as soon as he saw you.

You didn’t answer. Just crossed the three meters between you like it was the final straight of a Grand Prix and threw your arms around his neck. The kiss was all trembling lips and hands clutching his jacket like you needed proof he was here, whole.

—I had my seatbelt, love— he murmured between kisses, hands steady on your waist. —Airbag didn’t even deploy, it was nothing...

—Shut up— you ordered, voice thick as your hands roamed his face, his arms, his chest—searching for any sign of pain. —You just gave me ten years of fear in thirty seconds.

Charles pulled you into another hug, longer this time, quieter. Your heartbeats matched, racing in sync.

—I’m here.— he whispered in your ear, face buried in your hair. —I’m okay. I’m all yours.

24. Goodbye Kiss—When Three Months Feels Like Forever

The airport was packed. You’d be spending three months visiting family in Brazil. The two of you stood still in the chaos like the only unmoving thing in the world. Charles held your hands with a grip bordering on pain, his fingers—usually so precise on the wheel—now trembling like he didn’t know how to let go.

—You’ll forget me— he murmured, his crooked smile not reaching his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, tugging him by the collar of the shirt that smelled like your favorite perfume (he’d worn it on purpose, you knew).

—Impossible. You’ll be everywhere—news, social media, our daily calls...

The loudspeaker announced your flight for the third time. Charles swallowed hard.

—Three months, mon cœur— he whispered, forehead pressed to yours. —I don’t know how to be me without you for that long.

The kiss was salty with unshed tears, sweet with promises, bitter with goodbye. When you pulled apart, your heartbeats were in sync.

—Here— he shoved something into your pocket—an old, worn Ferrari hoodie he used during practice. —So you won’t forget my smell.

25. Homecoming Kiss

The airport was louder now, but you heard nothing except the blood pounding in your ears. Three months. Three months of delayed calls, photos that couldn’t capture his scent, waking up at odd hours just to hear a "sleep well, mon cœur" in the dead of night.

And then you saw him.

Charles stood exactly where you’d left him, but different—hair a little longer, wearing that blue shirt you loved (the one that made his eyes look like the Mediterranean in July), with an expression of pure relief, desperation, adoration.

He didn’t wait.

The kiss was like crossing the finish line after the longest lap in history. Your lips collided so hard you felt his pendant—the same one that had pressed against your chest during your goodbye—digging into your skin like a "welcome home" stamp.

—Fuck— he growled against your mouth, hands gripping your hips like he wanted to fuse you together right there in the middle of the terminal. —Never again.

26. End-of-the-World Kiss

The Italian beach was nearly empty, the sky painted in honey and lavender as the waves kissed the shore in slow rhythm. You buried your feet in the still-warm sand, feeling the grains slip between your toes, when Charles’ arms wrapped around you from behind.

—Perfect, isn’t it?— he murmured in your ear, his voice rough like the wind rustling the olive trees behind you.

You smiled, feeling his heart pound against your back—the same rapid beat as race starts, but now only yours, only for you. He turned you slowly, his calloused hands cradling your face like you were made of porcelain, and then, under the golden light that gilded his lashes, he kissed you.

The kiss was slow, sweet, like the wine you’d had at lunch. When you pulled apart, the sun had nearly vanished below the horizon, leaving only the glow in his eyes.

—I love you— he said, simple, direct, just like he was with the things that truly mattered.

—I know— you answered, pulling him in for another kiss as the waves hummed softly and the world seemed to pause just for the two of you.

27. Three Words in One Breath

The Monaco hotel room was silent, lit only by the harbor lights dancing on the walls. You lay on his arm, fingers tracing the scar on his shoulder—the one he got in karting at 12—when he suddenly turned, pinning you beneath him.

The kiss started like all the others.

Light at first, his lips moving with the same precision as his steering. But then something shifted—he deepened it like he was searching for something, one hand on your neck, the other lacing your fingers against the bed.

When you broke apart, the air left your lungs. Your eyes met in the dark, and you saw in him the same vulnerability he only showed when he missed a corner.

—Je...— his voice cracked. He swallowed hard, fingers trembling slightly against your cheek. —Je t’aime. (I love You)

Three words. Three words that made your chest ache like he’d crashed straight into it. You pulled his face back, kissing him with a desperation that stole your breath all over again.

—Say it again— you begged against his lips.

Charles smiled, that rare grin that only appeared when he truly, completely couldn’t hold back.

—Eu te amo (I love you) — in Portuguese this time, his accent terrible and perfect, his hands firm on your face like you might disappear.

And the next day? He said it again. And again. And again. Until you believed it. Until he believed it. Until there was no doubt left.

28. Dance and Destiny

The Vegas nightclub was at its peak, lights cutting through the dark like lightning, the bass thrumming in your chest. You were in the middle of the dance floor, barefoot because the heels had been abandoned hours ago, when Charles appeared with two cups of something sweet and strong.

—Didn’t know you danced like this— he shouted over the music.

You laughed, spinning into him, your hands finding his shoulders like they belonged there. He wasn’t the best dancer—especially not with the Brazilian rhythm you’d tried to teach him—but he made up for it with enthusiasm, his arms locking around your waist like he feared you’d slip away.

Then the song changed. Something slow. Something hot. Something that made the outside world vanish.

Charles didn’t hesitate. He pulled you close, your bodies pressed together like two puzzle pieces finally clicking into place. Your hearts beat in sync, racing from the dance, the closeness, the sheer want.

The kiss didn’t wait for the song to end.

It was urgent, sweet, desperate—like he’d waited all night for this. Your hands tangled in his curls, the soft strands between your fingers, while the music kept playing around you, as if the universe insisted on moving forward even as the two of you stood still in time.

When you broke apart, the song had changed again, but he was still frozen, staring at you like it was the first time.

—Let’s go?— he asked, voice rough with want.

You just nodded, knowing no song in the world could compare to the silence of his room later.

29. The First "Wife"

Dinner was nearly over—melted candle wax dripping onto crystal, wine glasses half-empty, the last bite of strawberry tart forgotten on the plate. Charles toyed with the fingers of your left hand, his features softened by the restaurant’s golden light, when suddenly he stopped.

—Happy dating anniversary, my lovely wife— he said, as casually as if he were commenting on the weather.

Your fork clattered loudly against the plate.

—What?— you choked, making sure you hadn’t misheard.

He grinned, that mischievous smile he only wore when he’d caught you off guard, and lifted your hand to press a kiss to your promise ring.

—You heard— he murmured, eyes locked on yours like he was seeing decades ahead. —

One day. Our day. When you’ve had enough of me butchering Portuguese and still choose to stay.

The kiss that followed was as sweet as dessert, as warm as the candles, and as promising as the ring he’d one day replace. You could taste strawberries on his lips, and something else—future, pure and simple.

—I’ll want my name on your car— you grumbled against his mouth, making him laugh so loud the couple next to you turned.

—It’s already there— he answered, suddenly serious, his hand on your cheek like a silent vow.

30. The Bear and the Kiss

The amusement park glowed under a thousand colored lights, the air thick with cotton candy and popcorn. Charles was determined—that competitive glint he usually saved for the racetrack now fixed on the ring-toss booth.

—One more try— he insisted, shoving more bills at the attendant, his arms already marked by failed attempts.

You laughed, clutching the sad little plush bear he’d won at the fishing game after three tries and a lot of sweet-talking.

—Give it up, Charlie. Some things aren’t meant to be.

But then it happened. The last ring spun through the air and—miraculously—landed around the bottle’s neck. The booth owner sighed, handing over the giant pink teddy bear (a monstrosity with bulging eyes) reluctantly.

Charles turned to you, the ridiculous trophy in his arms, grinning prouder than you’d ever seen—more than victories, more than poles, more than anything.

—For you— he announced, shoving the bear into your arms like it was the most precious prize in the world.

You tried to thank him, but the words vanished when he pulled you in by the bear, your lips meeting his in the middle of the crowd, under the flashing lights and carnival noise.

The kiss was awkward (the bear’s nose squished between you), tasted like cotton candy and cheap soda, and was perfectly teenage, like you were both sixteen again.

31. The First Addiction

It was just a kiss. Or it should have been.

You were on the couch, the movie had ended half an hour ago, and Charles was explaining for the third time how that overtake at Silverstone had been his masterpiece. You interrupted him with a quick kiss—just to shut him up. But then…

He stopped mid-sentence. Took a deep breath. And something shifted. The first touch was soft—just his lips testing yours, like it was the first time. But when you responded, he lost control.

His fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head back for better access. The kiss deepened, slow but relentless, like a rising tide. You tasted coffee on his tongue and something else—pure need.

—Merde— he gasped when he pulled back for a second, his eyes dark as asphalt at night. —This… this isn’t fair.

You didn’t have time to reply before he captured your lips again, this time with an urgency that made your stomach flip. It was like he’d discovered a new kind of adrenaline—and you were the only place he could get it.

—You… have to… stop— he lied between kisses, his hands already sliding under your shirt. —Or I’ll never be able to think about anything else.

32. Digital Kiss

The phone screen showed Charles sprawled on the motorhome bed, his hair a mess from how much he’d been running his hands through it, exhaustion from practice still heavy in his eyes. The connection flickered, stealing pieces of his image, but not enough to hide the way he frowned when you said:

—I have to go. Meeting in five.

He made that face—half abandoned puppy, half spoiled driver—and leaned closer to the camera until all you could see were his lips, bitten raw from missing you.

—Do this— he ordered, his whisper crackling through the speaker.

And then he kissed the screen. It was ridiculous. It was cheesy. It made your heart ache.

You laughed but ended up doing the same—your lips pressing against the cold glass where his face had been seconds before.

—Pathetic— you grumbled, the smile ruining your complaint.

—Missing someone feels like this— he replied. —See you tomorrow, mon cœur.

The call ended, leaving you staring at your own reflection in the dark phone—your lips still curved in a stupid smile, your heart heavy with something you couldn’t even name.

33. Home Remedy

The apartment smelled of garlic, ginger, and lemon—a scent that screamed home even in the middle of chaos. Charles was cocooned on the couch under a mountain of blankets, his nose red, his hair a disheveled mess, wearing that kicked-puppy look he only used on truly bad days.

You set the steaming bowl in front of him—perfect chicken soup, with the star-shaped pasta he’d loved since he was a kid.

—Nonna’s Italian cure— you announced, pushing the medicine aside.

He looked at the bowl, then at you, and something shifted in his expression—that rare vulnerability that only appeared when he was sick or deeply moved.

—Tu es…— His voice caught, more from emotion than congestion.

Before he could finish, he grabbed your wrist, knocking half the tissues to the floor. The kiss was fever-hot.

You wiped the broth off his chin with your thumb, laughing when he tried to bite your finger.

—Have some shame, Leclerc. Not even the flu makes you less insufferable.

He kissed your palm before you could pull away, his eyes half-lidded, half-dreaming.

—Love you more than nonna’s pasta— he declared solemnly, as if it were the highest compliment.

34. The Future Kiss

The press conference had ended, the murmur of journalists still echoing through the paddock, when you spotted the little boy—no older than seven, his toy F1 jumpsuit worn thin, eyes wide as saucers as he clutched a miniature helmet. You crouched, microphone in hand, and conducted the cutest interview of your life.

—What’s your name, champ?

—Enzo— he announced, proud as if he were on pole. —One day, I’ll race like Charles!

You laughed, your heart squeezing for no reason, and kept asking about his dreams. You didn’t notice Charles stopping behind you, arms crossed, smile soft.

[ .... ]

In the car back to the hotel, he was unusually quiet. You waited, knowing he’d speak when ready.

—That boy…— he started, fingers tapping the steering wheel nervously. —I thought about… if he were ours.

The air left your lungs. You’d never spoken about this directly.

Charles parked abruptly, silence heavy between you, until he turned. His green eyes were serious but soft—like he was seeing far beyond that moment.

—Have you ever thought about it?— he asked, voice quieter than you’d ever heard.

You didn’t answer with words. Just pulled his face close, the kiss starting gentle but deepening when he groaned against your lips, his hands gripping your waist like an anchor.

—I have— you admitted when you broke apart, forehead against his. —Just didn’t know if you…

He cut you off with another kiss, sweeter this time but with an urgency that made your stomach flip.

—I want it— he murmured, so softly you almost missed it. —A little Leclerc for you to teach how to be good… and for me to teach how to drive.

35. The Paper Kiss

You woke to the smell of fresh coffee and an unusual silence in the apartment. On the kitchen table—usually home to forgotten mugs and bread crumbs—was a cream-colored envelope with your initial handwritten in ink.

Inside, a sheet of Ferrari letterhead ("borrowed for noble reasons," his handwriting joked in the corner) and, in the center, the simplest note in the world:

"Love you more than pole position. Back by 6. P.S.: Look behind."

You flipped the paper and there it was—the perfect imprint of his lips in the corner. You froze, realizing Charles had secretly raided your closet for your lipstick to do what you always did—leave kiss marks on notes scattered around the apartment, since he had the memory of a goldfish.

Without thinking, you brushed your fingers over the mark, as if you could still feel his warmth. Then you noticed the tiny smudge—where he’d clearly hesitated before getting it just right.

And now you were picturing the absurd sight of Charles with red lips, all for the sake of a joke on paper.

36. The Secret Song

You pushed the apartment door open quietly, still dripping sweat from the gym, when the sound of piano music stopped you in your tracks. It was a melody you’d never heard before—sweet, melancholic, perfect—and then his voice joined in, softer than you’d ever heard in interviews or even in late-night whispers.

Your heart stalled.

Peeking through the cracked door, you saw him—Charles, his back to you, shoulders relaxed, fingers dancing over the keys. The open notebook on the piano made it obvious: scribbled lyrics, rewritten verses, a work in progress he’d never mentioned.

You couldn’t resist.

—So this is how you spend your free time?

He jumped off the bench like he’d been caught stealing a car, the notebook tumbling to the floor. His face was redder than his Ferrari race suit.

—Merde! I—

You snatched the notebook before he could hide it, your eyes scanning the page filled with “love,” “forever,” and—your pulse spiked—“children” scribbled in the corner.

The kiss didn’t wait. You grabbed his collar, your lips crashing into his with a urgency that made the piano let out a discordant note behind you.

—Sing for me— you ordered when you broke apart, cradling his face in your hands.

He swallowed hard, but when he started playing again—this time with you beside him—the music sounded different. Like it had finally found its audience.

37. Instant Kiss

The afternoon was perfect—endless lavender fields stretching to the horizon, the warm air thick with their scent. You stood with your back to the sunset, shaking the Polaroid camera in growing frustration.

—Another blurry one!— you complained as the photo slowly revealed a half-cut-off Charles, a purple smudge that was supposed to be lavender, and your finger accidentally covering the lens. —That’s five tries!

Charles, sprawled lazily in the field like he was modeling for a luxury perfume ad, let out a laugh. His green eyes glowed brighter than the setting sun.

—Maybe the problem isn’t the camera, mon cœur — he teased, lips curled in that mischievous smile you loved.

Before you could retort, he rose in one fluid motion—dirt and petals falling from his jeans—and closed the distance between you. The camera hit the grass as he cupped your face.

The kiss was like the Polaroid—instant but permanent. His lips tasted like rosé and infinite patience. When he pulled back, his expression was as soft as the twilight.

—Better?— he murmured, thumb swiping at the lipstick smudged on his mouth.

You exhaled, your heart fluttering like the birds taking flight around you.

—Take another one— you said, picking up the camera.

This time, when the flash went off, it captured perfection—him pulling you into another kiss, lavender petals swirling like natural confetti, the sun disappearing behind the two of you.

38. The Drunk Kiss

That summer night in Monaco was too hot—the city lights glittering like fallen stars, Charles drunk on wine and courage, trying to kiss you in front of everyone at the club.

You turned your face away, half-laughing, half-scolding.

—You’re drunk, Leclerc— you said, pushing lightly on his chest.

He frowned, his eyes desperate, like he couldn’t understand why the universe wasn’t aligning in his favor.

—But I—

—No buts. I’m taking you home.

But Charles, stubborn even under the influence, decided it was the perfect night for a love confession. Result? He ended up sitting on the sidewalk outside your building, clutching a bouquet of flowers he didn’t remember buying, slurring words even he didn’t understand.

—You’re… you’re my favorite corner— he announced solemnly, his grave tone ruined by a hiccup. —The one I never get right but always wanna try again.

You laughed, your heart pounding anyway, and helped him into the Uber.

—Say that again when you’re sober.

[ .... ]

Years later, on a quiet night at home, you reminisced about the incident.

—God, stop— Charles buried his face in his hands, ears red with embarrassment, as you mimicked his drunken voice: “You’re my favorite corner!”

—At least I was right— he grumbled, pulling you into a hug.

—Oh, were you?— you teased, fingers playing with his shirt buttons.

He looked at you, his eyes serious now, and finally repeated the words—no alcohol, no audience, just the raw truth you’d both known since that night.

(And if he ever found out you still kept the blurry selfie of him on the sidewalk—your secret treasure—he’d never let you live it down.)

39. The Kiss the World Discovered

The Ibiza sun gilded everything in gold when it happened. You were at that hidden café near the harbor, the one he insisted on showing you, where Charles could take off his cap and just be. He’d just told a terrible joke about the engineers, and you laughed so loudly he couldn’t resist—leaning in to press a quick, spontaneous kiss to your cheek.

Then the shutter clicked.

A quiet sound, nearly drowned by the sea, but enough to make Charles stiffen, his eyes scanning the surroundings.

—Merde — he muttered, his expression shuttering like it did after a bad race.

You laced your fingers with his under the table, a silent code: It’s okay. It was time.

[ .... ]

Forty-eight hours later, the photo was everywhere: “Leclerc in Love? F1 Star Caught Kissing Mystery Woman!”

Charles called that night, his voice uncharacteristically tense:

—I never wanted it to be like this. Are you okay?

You laughed—a light sound that made him sigh in relief through the phone.

—Charles, it’s just a peck on the cheek. The world’s seen worse.

His silence was heavy with something sweet and vulnerable:

—I wanted our first photo together to be… better.

—It’s perfect— you replied, picturing his flushed face in the image. —Because it’s real.

40. The Kiss of Lost Hours

The lamp was still on when he finally came home. 2:37 AM, according to the bedside clock. You’d fallen asleep curled on his side of the bed, the book splayed open on your chest, fingers slack against the pages.

Charles paused in the doorway, the scent of stale coffee and exhaustion clinging to him. He should’ve gone straight to the shower, should’ve been careful not to wake you—but then he saw the exposed curve of your neck, your necklace slightly twisted, and all the should’ves vanished.

He knelt onto the bed carefully, his calloused hands sinking into the mattress beside you, and leaned down.

The first kiss was just a whisper, his lips barely grazing your nape—a test. You mumbled something incoherent, turning your face away, and he took the chance to kiss the spot below your ear, the one he knew made you shiver.

—Sorry— he whispered, the words warm against your skin as his hands slowly unzipped his race suit.

You didn’t answer. Just pulled his arm around your waist, anchoring him there, as if your sleepy body already knew what it needed.

He chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating against your back, and finally settled around you—your neck still his favorite place that night.

[oscpstri]

not my team | formula fun

ft. hadjar, leclerc, albon, lawson, colapinto x fem journalist!reader

formula 1 drivers know the drill: when you're given a pen and merch, you sign it. but would they still sign it if it wasn't their merch?

INCLUDES: profanity, idk man its just cute, short bcs tiktok style duh

NOTE: got this from vcarb admin giving isack an inter jersey during the finals. didn't include all the drivers because too many, just went with the first vcarb vid i saw and based it off that.

( formula fun | mics up )

★ ISACK HADJAR

You run up from behind Isack— phone recording in one hand and the other clutching onto a white shirt and a marker.

"Isack!" you call out. He walks slower when he hears your voice, turning just in time to see you next to him. His smile appears even larger when he notices the phone in your hand, already knowing that you were probably up to no good.

You stick the shirt and marker out to him, nodding once. "Could you sign this please?"

"Sure." He takes the shirt from your hands, opening the marker with ease. Until—

"This—" He stops in his tracks, making you giggle from behind the camera. He makes eye contact with the phone then to you comically, dramatically dropping the shirt and the marker.

He picks it back up after a few seconds, holding it up to the camera. The color of the shirt definitely resembled VCARB team gear which was why the rookie didn't question further. But when he actually looked at the shirt, the silver arrow of the Mercedes logo smacked him right in the face.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he asks in his thick accent, not even bothering to look at the device anymore and just asking you straight up. You laugh even harder at this, not able to look at the Frenchman directly in the eyes.

"Woops?"

★ CHARLES LECLERC

Charles was notorious for signing things that he didn't need to. Just give him a marker and something else and he'll be so caught off guard that you wonder how he hasn't accidentally signed a marriage contract yet.

So when you saw him at the Ferrari hospitality during media day signing a box-load of hats, you knew it was the perfect time to strike.

He was almost done with autographing the signature red Ferrari hats and you were off to the side, ready with your phone already recording in one hand and a driver's hat in the other. As he was down to his final one, you quickly walk up to him.

"Charles, could you sign this for me?" You ask, immediately placing the hat in front of him. And just like you thought he would, he signed it without thinking and only then realized the odd color of the driver's hat once he lifted his marker up.

He freezes in his seat, eyes scanning the papaya colored hat and the number 81 embroidered on the brim. He looks up at you with wide eyes, blinking comically like he was a kid that just got caught stealing candy.

He remains quiet as you take the hat from his hands, looking at it impressively with a smile. "Thanks!"

He buries his face in his hands, chuckling in disbelief. He looks back at you after a few seconds, mouth still carrying a smile like he couldn't accept the fact that you had just tricked him like that.

"I can't believe you just did that." You smile at him, laughing at his reaction.

"I have an Oscar Piastri hat signed by his father. Wow, this one's gonna sell."

★ ALEX ALBON

Alex immediately clocks you walking up to him as he made his way down the paddock. A grin appears on his face as he practically side-eyes you, already anticipating the worst.

"Could you sign this for me?"

You stick the hat and marker out for Alex to sign, urging him to take it. He only looks at it with a knowing look on his face. Damn Alex Albon and being chronically online.

"You've seen this before haven't you?"

He nods at your question, a giggle leaving his mouth as you groan in exasperation. He still takes the hat and marker anyway, popping the cap off and signing on the brim of the hat.

"Charles told me about what you did. Hilarious by the way." Alex gives you the marker and the hat back, still smiling ear to ear.

"Thanks." You look at the autographed Mercedes hat then back at Alex. "I'll give this back to George. Say his idol signed it for him."

Alex nods once at this before looking back up with a shimmer in his eyes. "Or you could give it to Lando."

You look at the man like he just solved world hunger. A grin broke out on your face as the both of you nod in agreement.

"I should have you help me out more on these pranks."

★ LIAM LAWSON

"Oh god." Liam groans as he sees you walk up to him, phone held up as you recorded the interaction. "What do you want?"

You look at him with faux sadness, sticking your bottom lip out dramatically. "I'm hurt."

Liam tilts his head at this, shaking his head in disbelief at your antics.

"Sign this for me, will you?" You toss him the team shirt, marker following suit. He catches it effortlessly, going to remove the cap from the marker.

You catch his eyebrows furrowing at the color of the shirt before he finally lays it flat on the table. He sees the familiar logo of his senior team and his shoulders drop, hand falling onto his lap as he looks at you with a flat stare. You swore his expression screamed: "I'm not paid enough for this."

"This isn't even my team." He nods his head towards the shirt. You zoom the camera in to the Red Bull logo before zooming back out to capture the New Zealander's face.

You feign innocence, shrugging like you didn't know any better. "Red Bull, Racing Bulls. Tomato, tomahto. Same same."

Liam continues to look at you in exasperation, a smile of disbelief on his face. He was absolutely done with your pranks. You bite back your smile, eyes still carrying a mischievous glint.

"Wait. You are Max Verstappen, right?"

★ FRANCO COLAPINTO

You couldn't really sneak up on Franco, because as soon as he saw you, he immediately lit up and started yapping away. He never even noticed the phone you held up, nor the hat and marker you had in your hand.

"And did you know that—"

"Franco," you cut him off. "Could you sign this?"

He quickly glances at the things in your hand before taking them without a question. He continues on what he was talking about, not taking his eyes off of you while his hands pop off the cap of the marker. He seems to find the brim of the hat immediately, marker making contact with the surface. But before he could continue on signing, he instinctively looks down and only then notices the black hat he was holding.

His hand immediately retracts, blinking and staring at the hat like it would somehow tell him why this was all happening. He then looks back up at you with his eyebrows furrowed, a confused look on his face.

"This is... Haas?"

You laugh at his confusion. The poor guy still didn't get it until you told him, his concern going away as he then joined in and laughed with you.

"But I— There's a dot on it from the marker." He shows you the crime scene, a tiny white dot from the marker was left on the brim where he initially made contact. It wasn't noticeable and you definitely didn't mind. He did though.

"Don't worry. It's mine."

He looks up at you with knit eyebrows, a worried expression on his face. "Are you sure? I can get you a brand new one."

You shake your head at his offer, putting your hand out so you could take back your things. "It's fine, Franco."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." You chuckle at his worry, reassuring him that it was fine.

"I'm still getting you a new one."

Sure enough, Franco came up to you in the paddock next week with a fresh Haas hat— the exact same one as your crash test dummy. Except this time, it was signed by the driver who actually owned the number on it.

[bear-yawns]

𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗚 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘.　kimi antonelli · #12

　　　kimi has been trying to get your attention for years, frustrated at the fact that you only seem to recognize your brother's race results. is he really that invisible to you?

genres : fluff ... slight enemies to lovers ... reader is ollie's sister ... kimi antonelli x fem!reader.　request : anon for kimi + "did i... did i kiss you last night? i can't remember." for the 100 event　word count : 2.1k.　warnings : alcohol consumption (both reader and kimi get drunk) ... good old liquid courage helping reader out (could be read as underage drinking depending on the laws, but in australia and italy its both 18 so let's say it's not underage drinking lmao).　 note : i started writing this ages ago like literally right after australia and it's taken me this long to revisit the fic and finally finish it </3 but it's here now so yay!!　　　( masterlist )　( taglist )

Kimi woke up with a buzzing headache. He had to attribute it to the alcohol consumed the night before while celebrating his race result in Melbourne. Twelve points scored on debut. It was certainly an astounding feat. Even now, articles were still being released praising the performance of the eighteen year old. Kimi couldn’t be happier. With a race as unpredictable as that to start out the season, any driver would just be happy to finish it without crashing. Almost getting a podium felt amazing.

Even with the pain burning across his forehead and slight ringing in his ear, Kimi couldn’t help but smile as soon as he woke up. Simply put, yesterday had been everything he could’ve dreamed of. There was still so much more to work towards, but just for now, he felt totally weightless, like he was floating through the clouds. Nothing could touch him. Nothing could bring him down from this high. For once, Kimi felt on top of the world.

That was, until it all came crashing down as soon as his eyes fell on you.

So much for nothing being able to bring him down from his high.

Anyone who had ever seen you and Kimi in the same room knew that you didn’t quite get along well. It wasn’t extreme hatred or anything, but you had always gotten on each other's nerves since you were little. Worst of all, you just couldn’t seem to stay clear of the other. 

Being Ollie’s sister, you were always there at races in Prema and even now in F1 as well. Kimi could not evade you. He saw your face everywhere.

He got along well with Ollie, but he often wondered how you could even be related to him. You were so different. Ollie was hardworking and precise while you always seemed laidback without a care in the world.

It didn’t stop you from being put together. Somehow, you were always effortless with whatever you did. Kimi never knew if you were trying hard or if everything just came naturally. The public loved to plaster the words prodigy next to your name. As someone who had been called a prodigy himself for many years, maybe there was something about you that intimidated him.

Perhaps he felt threatened by you— by your seeming perfection throughout every challenge. He knew how much he truly struggled to live up to the expectations set for him; how filling a seat that used to belong to Lewis Hamilton was pressure he wasn’t ready for. Until the race in Melbourne yesterday he was so sure he would crack under it all as soon as he got into the car. 

Some days he felt that maybe he just wished he was a little more like you. You were in the same situation at times; both of you had lots of expectations thrown at you, and endless pressure to perform under the hardest circumstances. Maybe he wasn’t made to handle the pressure. He didn’t want to find himself crumbling under it all when someone like you would surely shine. 

Besides your connection to Ollie, you had no real spot in the world of Motorsport. You didn’t drive, nor were you interested in engineering or strategics. Yet whenever you were outside of your own world, you found your way into Kimi’s. You were always there at races— often one of the first faces he saw when he stepped out of his car. He didn’t know why his eyes always seemed to find yours before anyone else's, or why he couldn’t get his brain to stop being annoyed whenever he did see you in the heart of the crowd. He felt relieved when you missed a race, as if it was finally a time for him to relax and not care about the result. But then the obvious questions arose in his brain. 

Why did he care about you being there? Why did he hate to see you cheer so proudly for your brother? Why did it sting when you didn’t cheer him on the same way?

But those questions were all old in his mind; all had their chance to linger for months and drive him slowly mad when he realized he wasn’t ready to face the answer. The main question that plagued Kimi’s headache-stricken brain right now was how the hell you had ended up falling asleep in his arms. 

Your head lay against his bicep, effectively trapping him. There was no way he could get up without disturbing your sleep, and for some weird reason a part of him was screaming to let you continue dozing. So he did. He lay completely still, eyes tracing the outline of your figure, quieting his breaths that seemed deafening against the silence of the room, as if they too might wake you up.

You were still in the outfit you wore the night before to celebrate the first race of the season, cheering on your brother of course. And even though your hair was a bit messy and your face bare of any makeup, you looked perfect in Kimi’s eyes. So full of life even though you were fast asleep. So comfortably situated in his arms as if you were meant to be held by them, even though this was certainly the first time he had been this close to you. 

The moment should’ve been peaceful, but to Kimi, it was anything but. His thoughts were racing faster than his car could go on track and he gulped as denied feelings he had kept down for so long floated up again. He tried to press them down once more, hide them for a while longer. Once you woke up he could make sure you pretended none of this ever happened and life would go back to normal. But he wasn’t sure he could do that— wasn’t sure that reality would be one he was able to accept. 

As his headache cleared and the events of the previous night settled in his memory a bit more intelligibly, he remembered exactly how he had gotten here in this bed with you securely in his arms. 

He had been a bit tipsy. Not fully drunk, but definitely enough to not think quite clearly. And you had been overconfident in finding yourself in places you shouldn’t have been. Such as, attached to Kimi’s arm; lips finding their way onto his. 

At least, he was nearly sure that had happened. He vaguely remembered the taste of tart cherry on your lips that was likely from whatever you had been drinking during the party. And you must have refused to leave his side to go back to your own hotel room to have ended up in his arms the entire night. 

And at that realization of his, your eyes fluttered open. You stared at him for a second, first in shock, and then in realization. You gasped and sat up straight, finally letting Kimi relax the muscles he had tensed to keep still.  

“Did I… did I kiss you last night? I can’t remember.”

Kimi’s breath hitched. So he wasn’t just making that part of the night up. His silence was enough of an answer for your question. 

“I’m sorry. I must’ve been more drunk than I realized,” you whispered in embarrassment, slipping a bit further away from Kimi once you realized just how close you had been lying to him. He bit back the words on his tongue that wanted to tell you to stay where you were, that he didn’t mind the closeness. 

“It’s fine. It was just one kiss,” Kimi assured quietly. 

“Are you sure it’s fine? You don’t sound sure,” you said pointedly. And you would be right about that. Kimi really wasn’t sure it was fine; not about the kiss, but how he wished it would happen again. How he wished it wasn’t just one kiss. How he wished that it hadn’t just been a drunken mistake on your part. Was it fine that he felt this way?

Kimi took a breath, “Why did you kiss me?” 

You were hesitant to answer. Some anxious part of you didn’t want him to know how long you had wanted to kiss him before this; how many months you had spent harbouring a secret crush on him. You went with the half truth. 

“I guess I just wanted to congratulate you on your race result. Your drive was incredible yesterday.” 

Kimi could tell that wasn’t the entire reason.

“You never seemed to care before now. You only ever celebrated Ollie’s achievements, even when I scored higher than him,” Kimi reminded you, sounding a bit hurt even though he didn’t mean for it to come across that way. “Has it changed now that I made it into F1?” 

“Ollie’s my brother—” 

“So I have to become family just to get you to cheer for me?” 

You sighed, “I didn’t mean it like that. I was happy for you before this race. In all of F2 I did want you to succeed as well,” you defended, explaining the situation you hoped you wouldn’t have to touch on. Your feelings around Kimi were complicated. 

“If you were happy for me, why did you never show it? I thought you hated me all this time because you never spared me more than a glance. I tried so hard to get your attention at the beginning and prove that I was an amazing driver like they all said I was, just for you to not even look at me. I was happy whenever you weren’t at a race cause it felt like I could finally breathe and drive just for the team without you on my mind for once.” Kimi was rambling at this point, his voice frustrated but earnest and still somewhat soft. Even if he was upset with you, he couldn’t raise his voice. And before he realized it, he had spilled much more than he ever meant to. He went quiet when he realized your eyes lingering on him, observing him so carefully. 

“All this time, you wanted my attention?” you asked. 

“It was all I wanted.”

You let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob, covering your face with your hands in disbelief at the truth. It was comical, really, just how badly you both had misjudged each other. 

“So all this time… you were trying to impress me? And I was trying to avoid you because I thought it would be easier than getting close to you,” your voice got quieter as you trailed off. “I knew I could never stay friends with you. I’ve liked you for so long. That’s why I kissed you last night, Kimi,” you confessed, nervous but somewhat at peace with how everything was coming to light. It was nice to not have to hide it anymore. Even if he rejected you immediately, you would be at peace with it.

Kimi went quiet at your admission. You watched his adam’s apple bob down in a rushed swallow, his eyes darting away from your face as heat crept up his neck. You looked down at your hands, nestled in your lap above the covers. Your fingertips fiddled with the duvet on the bed, picking at the soft fabric absent-mindedly.

“So… what happens now?” he asked. Your eyes met his— those golden brown irises that always stuck in your mind, taunting you, teasing you, torturing you.

You took a breath, “I’m not drunk anymore, so there can be no excuses this time. If I kissed you again right now would you—”

You never got the chance to finish your question, much less prepare for the suddenness in which Kimi’s lips found their place on yours. With your mind clear of the alcohol and the atmosphere being the complete opposite of last night, you allowed yourself to truly enjoy the feeling, knowing it would stick in your mind forever. You could barely recall what the kiss last night felt like, but you were sure it couldn’t hold a candle to the tenderness with which Kimi kissed you now.

His hand on your jaw, thumb ever so lightly stroking your skin to the same rhythm his lips danced on yours to. His patience was contrasted with your eagerness as your fingers laced through his hair, pulling him closer to you, deepening the kiss in whatever way you could.

At that moment it felt like nothing else mattered. Not the countless headlines and articles about Kimi’s incredible debut, not the next designer brand deal you would shoot for, not even the possible aftermath of you and Kimi becoming a thing. You didn’t care about how your brother would react or if he would approve or not. It wasn’t his place to butt in with an opinion either way. You knew from the way that Kimi kissed you that he was yours now, no matter what anyone said. Nothing could make you happier than that realization. 

Perhaps it wasn’t just Kimi floating on cloud nine, for there seemed to be another result even more satisfying than finishing P4.

kimi taglist: @divierses,, @lxvemaze,, @revelauver