#formula one imagines | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

verstappwn · 4 months ago

Text

Je Spreekt Nederlands?

prompt: reader goes to the netherlands to meet her boyfriend’s family for the first time, showing off her dutch language’s skills, catching max really off guard.

warnings: explicit sex, +18, swearing, p in v, doggy style, fem! oral, unprotected, degrading words.

The droplets of water were flowing freely down the car window as the Netherlands’ skies raged above the city. It wasn’t the prettiest of days as you and your boyfriend, Max, traveled down the streets towards his childhood home, the day seemed to almost match your mood as you two stopped by the porch of Max’s old place. A nice house with a big garden and wooden ceilings was the sight you were greeted with as your boyfriend killed the engine and stared at you.

“Did you bring enough coats?”, Max kindly asks, furrowing his brows, causing small worry wrinkles to turn up around his icy blue eyes, “You’re trembling. I told you how het Nederland were around this time of the year and you didn’t-”

You cut him short after he starts rambling and worrying about the apparent reason for your shaking hands. “Max. I’m not cold”, you say in small pauses, reaching out to touch his hand, “I’m nervous”. Max’s brain seems to short-circuit. Your words making his brows furrow even further and his eyes narrow. “Nervous?”, he repeats, testing the words in his tongue, “You’re nervous about… meeting my parents?”. The thought of you being anxious seems unbelievable to him, the woman in front of him is the physical representation of calm and collected, and on top of that, the sweetest, kindest and most perfect woman in this world, that is on his eyes. You can’t be nervous, if you’re nervous then he should be sweating.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you bite back, nervous, fidgeting with your fingers as the rain seems to calm for a bit, making your exit off the car even more eminent. Max tilts his head “Schatje”, he calls softly, reaching for your face and cupping your cheek “You don’t have to be nervous. It’s my mom and my sister’s family, it’s just us”, he tilts your head so you’re looking at him, “And they’re gonna love you, baby. Just like I do”, Max leans forward and plants a gentle kiss to your lips, his fingertips brushing and caressing softly at your cheek, “Okay? I love you,” he repeats, pausing his words as if to convey their intensity.

You let out a deep breath, sighing after the kiss as you open your eyes and are met with your boyfriend’s kind blue eyes. “Okay”, you say softly, caressing his calloused hand, “Love you too”.

He squeezes your hand, stepping out of the car and rushing through the rain to get to the passenger side, suitcase in hand. He opens the door for you and intertwines your fingers with his free hand. “It’s gonna be okay,” Max smiles, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Max knocked on the door, a smile on his face as he waited for it to open, his hand firmly holding yours to calm you down. “Kom eraan!”, (coming!) a female voice called out in Dutch, the door opening to show the face of a kind middle-aged woman with dark hair, “Max! Hoi, mijn liefste”, (hi, my dear) she said with a kind smile, pulling your boyfriend in for a hug, “Hoe gaat het?”, (how are you?), Max smiles at his mom and simply shrugs, placing a small kiss to her cheek as if to call her attention. Max’s mom turns to find your shy face at his side, “Oh! And you must be the girlfriend! I’m Sophie, Max’s mom,” Sophie pulls you in for a small hug, a smile on her face.

“Leuk je te ontmoeten, Sophie”, (nice to meet you, Sophie) you whisper softly, quietly, fidgeting with your fingers as your gaze falls to the porch’s floor.

Max’s jaw drops, his blonde brows furrowing as he stares at you, hearing the words in his language flowing out of your mouth, effortlessly. Sophie opens a warm smile, gasping. “Oh Max! She speaks Dutch!”, she exclaims excitedly, “Oh this is wonderful,”. You smile softly, shifting uncomfortably under her excited gaze, Max’s hand moving to sooth your lower back as he chuckles dry, “Yeah, wonderful”.

Max watches as you chatted with his mom and sister, a bright smile on your face as you let yourself get loose around them; his language flowing off your tongue as if it was just a normal Tuesday for you. Not for him. Max had to go upstairs and take out his skinny jeans to cover what hearing your voice in that sultry Dutch, did to him, and putting on a pair of loose pants.

Victoria’s kids were already put to bed by her husband Tom, as the four of you sat around the kitchen island, sipping some red wine while they got to know you better. You had quickly realized just how alike Max was to his sister and how he inherited his kind manners from his mom, laughing about childhood stories they would tell you about your boyfriend. You giggled at a particularly adorable one about him being mad at the SIM as a kid and turned around to look at him. But he wasn’t laughing. He was staring at you, face pinker than usual and fists clenched, but you simply ignored.

Max stared at you as you talked with the two women, his jaw clenched as he crossed his legs, trying to fix the bulge showing through his pants. He pictured you whispering in Dutch on his ear on that same sultry tone, your hands tracing his torso with your fingertips, pressing wet, languid kisses down his stomach till the waistband of his pants-

“Denk dat we wat moeten rusten,” (Think we should get some rest) Max announced after a while, his voice hoarse and his brows furrowed. You frowned at him, “Maar het is nog vroeg,” (But it’s still early) you whined softly, his sister and mom agreeing. “Schatje. Let’s go,” he said through his teeth, his jaw clenched and tone firm in a way that left no room for discussion.

You stood up from the island stools and scratched the back of your neck, “Goeinacht,” (G’night) you said with a soft smile at Victoria and Sophie who smiled back and waved goodnight to you and Max while you two made your way up the stairs. It was still fairly early, about 9 PM, so you truly didn’t understand why your boyfriend was pulling you up towards the guest room claiming you two needed rest when you spent a long time sleeping at his jet on the way here.

“What’s going on?” you ask with furrowed brows as you step into the bedroom, closing the door you move to stare at your boyfriend’s eyes, palms on his chest and worried eyes. “Nothing, liefje”, he kisses your forehead with a softer smile, though you can see how his pupils are darker, “I’m gonna go take a shower, okay? Why don’t you get ready for bed, huh?”.

Then he turns around on his heels and moves towards the suite’s bathroom, sliding the door shut. You furrow your brows further, not understanding his strange behavior, things had gone well with his family, right? They appeared to have approved of you and you absolutely adored both his sister and mom, so what seemed to be the issue?

You simply shrugged and put on one of Max’s shirts and a pair of shorts, not bothering with actual pajamas as you sat on the small couch on the corner of the room, deciding to read for a bit. Getting immersed in your book, you almost didn’t notice when Max came back to the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and hair messy and wet from the shower, he sat behind you and you froze as his chest pressed against your back. “Jij spreekt Nederlands nu, schatje?”, (You speak Dutch now, love?) he mumbled in your ear, his arms circling around you and taking the book off your hands.

He trailed his fingers up and down your arms, making your breath hitch and you felt something hard against your back, Max started planting small kisses alongside your neck and shoulder. “See what you do to me, schat?”, he mumbled against your pressure point, “Baby, are you trying to drive crazy speaking my language to my mom and sister like that?”, his tongue trailed the path of your ear lobe down to the point where your neck and shoulder met and you let out a gasp, “I had to go to the bathroom fix myself so many times, baby. So many…”

Max started pressing wet kisses on your throat, tilting your head back so it was pressed against his shoulder, giving him access to it. Hickeys started forming on your skin as you panted against him, his mouth working on sucking and kissing you as precisely as he could, knowing your body like the back of his hand. “Ik maakt je gek?”, (I’m making you crazy?) you mumbled, your voice cracked with need as you felt heat pooling down your stomach, closing your thighs.

Max moaned against your skin and you clenched your thighs harder as you felt yourself growing wet for him, “Ah schatje, yeah. Just like that. Keeping talking Dutch to me”, he pulled your shirt up, nothing underneath as he leaned down to suck on your collarbone, “Can't touch you like I want this way”, he groaned under his breath, motioning to the fact you two were still on the couch, “How am I gonna show you just how much I value you speaking my language when I can’t even suck you like the good girl you are?”

He smirked and chuckled as he heard you gasp and whimper, covering your mouth with his palm and squeezing your cheeks. He took you by the waist and stood up, throwing you over his shoulder and moving towards the bed, “Gonna have to keep quiet, you know?”, he said in a dark whisper, hovering over you as he threw you in bed, “Do you want my mama en zus to stop thinking you’re an innocent little thing and know how much of a slut you are for me?”, he laughed as you whimpered, his hand going back to covering your mouth.

He stood back and let the towel fall of his waist, watching you gulp. No matter how many times you saw him bare or had sex with him, it always made you stop and drool over him. Max was simply lovely to say the least. “Max, please—,” you whimpered as he took his time taking your sleep shorts out. Max stopped, clicking his tongue, “Ah ah ah ah”, he smirked, “Don’t you wanna be a good girl for me? You speak my language then,” he ordered, his fingers tracing the waistband of the last article of clothing you were wearing.

“Ah, fuck”, were the words that came out of your mouth as your breathing got more wrecked by the second, his tone ordering you to speak his language way hotter than you could’ve anticipated, “Alsjeblieft”, (Please) you whined, biting your lip, “Max, alsjeblieft”. The Dutchman smiled, leaning in to press a languid kiss to your lips, “Good girl”, he said before tugging your panties and shorts down in a swift movement.

You moaned as he pressed a finger against your folds, squirming as he groaned at your wetness, “Baby. You’re so wet for me”, he smiled, pressing kisses to your inner thighs as he knelt on the floor, pulling you by the waist so your legs were hanging over the edge of the bed, “Cover your mouth, pretty”, he mumbled against the skin of your inner thighs, “I’ll stop if I hear a sound, understand me?”

You nodded desperately, your head moving up and down frantically, “Yes, yes, I under—”, you cut yourself mid sentence as you’re met with Max’s disapproving gaze, him clicking his tongue and narrowing his eyes, you quickly go back to Dutch, “Ja, ik begrijp”, (Yes, I understand) you whimper, holding onto his hair as he presses a long kiss to your lower stomach. “See? Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”, he tilts his head in a smirk, enjoying the look on your face, “Quiet, schatje”.

You almost don’t have the time to cover your mouth with your palm when you feel Max’s tongue stroke slowly across your folds. You moan loud against your hand, throwing you head back against the pillow as he moves his tongue to fuck you, your hips matching his movements as he moves in and out of your cunt. You whimper loud, holding onto his hair with the other hand as he moves out to suck on your clit, smirking as he looks up at the mess you are at his touches.

He feels your legs clench around his shoulders as he circles your clit mercilessly, your sensitive bud aching as you moan and feel yourself getting close, “Max, Max—”, you call, and you’re not even sure why you’re calling. But it feels like so much. So good. “I’m- I’m… ik ben dichtbij”, (I’m close) you moan, your hand clenching around your own cheeks as you try to keep your noises down, the knowledge his sister and mother are just downstairs, probably still chatting on the kitchen making your breathing hitch even more.

Max smirked against your wet pussy, his tongue going back to lapping in and out of your cunt while his nose pressed and rubbed against your clit, you let out a loud moan, whimpering as you felt yourself getting impossibly close, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—”. And then he stoped. “No, no, no. Max, max, please”, you whined out loud, holding his hair and grinding against nothing as his face was already far away.

“Oh pretty”, he smirked, moving off the ground and hovering over you, “What did I say would happen if I heard a sound, huh?”, Max runs a tongue all over his glistening lips and chin, looking down at you. You whimper at him, your eyes glossy as you’re kept on the edge, “Is this what you want, baby? For my mama and Vic to hear your desperate little noises for me?”, he clicks his tongue, “Can’t have that happen,”.

“Max, but—,” you try to argue, and he slaps the side of your thigh, almost at your ass cheek, the sound echoing through the room quieter than usually since Max was actually serious about being quiet. You whimper and gasp at it, the pain making you even needier for him as you cover your mouth to prevent a moan from escaping. “Jij spreekt Nederlands tegen mij, hoor je mij?,” (You speak Dutch to me, understand?) he groans against you, his hips grinding and driving you crazy as your eyes roll back to your head. “Ja, ja”, (yes, yes) you mumble without any strength, panting.

“Goed meisje,” (good girl) he says before thrusting into you all at once. You cover your mouth with both of your hands as a scream almost breaks out of your throat, “Oh fuck, you feel so good, schatje”, Max groans, pounding in and out of you with no hesitation, he holds your shoulder with his hand, trying to keep you from hitting your head on the headboard with the strength of his thrusts, “Speak. Say something in Dutch,” he groans, his hand flying to your neck as he moves almost all out and then back in.

Your eyes widen and you cry out his name, covering your mouth as you squeeze your cheeks to keep you from screaming. His cock stretching you out so much it feels like you’re being torn apart in two. “V-vertragen,” (slow down) you whimper shakily underneath him, but his pace doesn’t falter for a second. “Kleur?” (colour?) Max asks, his cock hitting every spot perfectly, including the sweet one that makes you see stars. “Groente,” (green) you let out in a breath.

Max stops and you cry out again. “Turn around,” he says, stroking his cock as he waits for you to get on hands and knees. Shakily, you do as he says, your face against the mattress and ass up and you whine desperately, “Would you look at that. A proper slut and asking me to slow down,” he groans before pounding in again, his pace even harder and faster than before as Max watches in awe his cock disappear inside of your cunt. Your face is on the mattress, drooling down the sheets as Max thrusts in and out, hitting you perfectly in every spot to have you crying in pleasure.

You bite down the white sheets, trying to muffle your sounds as you start panting a getting close again. Max leans down, his chests against your back as he pulls at your hair, making you gasp and he slaps your ass again, a cry leaving your throat, “Quiet,” he groans through his teeth before pulling you towards his chest so that you’re both kneeling on the bed, him pounding from behind as he wraps a hand on your mouth, squeezing and holding you still and quiet.

With Max’s palm against your lips as you pant and moan under his thrusts, he moves on to a deeper pace, his cock barely moving out of you before he’s in again, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel his sweaty chest against your back, “Schatje, I’m gonna cum”, he groans quietly against your ear, trying to hold back his noises as his grip on your mouth grows stronger and bite down his palm, receiving a hiss in response, “You’re close too, aren’t you?”, he pants, his lips finding your neck and shoulder as his thrusts become erratic, “I’m gonna take my hand off your mouth, and you’re gonna tell me just how much you want me to let you come in Dutch, understand?”, he asks through his teeth, “Nod, baby”.

You nod desperately before he takes out his hand off your lips, now covered in drool and red from your bites, “Ik ga klaarkomen, Max”, (I’m gonna cum, Max) you whimper, bitting down your lips to keep yourself from making louder noises, “Alsjeblieft. Laat me klaarkomen,” (Please. Please let me cum).

Max smirks at you, his movements growing sloppier by the second, “Oh, look at you, my baby”, he kisses your neck wet, “Biting your lips and trying to keep quiet for me, so good”, he praises, receiving a loud moan from you in response, which is quickly muffled by his hand, “Such a good girl for me, schatje. You can come”.

The sounds of your bodies moving are wet and obscene as Max’s words make your whole body clench and tighten, right on the edge. You pant against his hand, crying out as your body almost convulses in pleasure. Max follows behind, biting down your shoulder as he comes hard, his movements slowing down as you two ride the waves of your orgasm. Max’s hand falls off your mouth as you two pant against one another, both going limp and boneless against the bed, him under you as you come back down to Earth.

“Since when do you speak Dutch?”, Max pants, caressing your hair. You simply chuckle breathlessly, head resting on his chest, “I don’t know. Since before we met, why? You don’t like it?,” you ask in a soft giggle, propping yourself to your elbows to stare at him.

Max let’s out a laugh, caressing your cheek carefully before kissing you softly as his tongue tangles with yours in a deep, loving kiss, pulling back to press your foreheads together and nuzzle your nose on his, “Schatje, do I need to do all this again for you to see what it did to me?”.

#max verstappen #formula 1 #formula one x reader #formula one imagines #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #smut

1K notes · View notes

imagine-it-was-us · 1 day ago

Text

love me not pt.3 || Carlos Sainz

Inspiration: Ravyn Lenae x Rex Orange County "Love me not"

Author's note: And here it ends. Wel, I loved writing this one! I will sound like an absolute idiot, but it makes me crave the chaotic relationship I never had, if it means you're getting your happy ending. Please, share your thoughts, the feedback is everything 🥺

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr. x female reader

Warnings: toxic relationship, mentions of pregnancy, time jumps.

Summary: They started as a spark – fast, reckless, impossible to ignore. One night turned into something more. But when love feels like a push and pull, when you only know how to leave before you're left… how do you stay?

Word count: 3.5k+

part1 part2

The best thing that could’ve happened to their relationship was the winter break.

Even with Carlos in the midst of switching teams – juggling meetings and a never-ending string of training sessions and briefings – there was still room for her. And he took his time with it, without hesitation, like he’d already learned the hard way what happens when you don’t make time for the things that matter.

They say that in the beginning, love is all pink glasses and soft focus, where even the flaws look charming and the fights feel like flirtation. Maybe that was true for them, too. Or maybe, after all the turbulence, the thing they needed most was stillness. A kind of gentle recalibration. Whatever it was, the chaos slowed. And in its place came something that looked a lot like peace.

There were quiet mornings that turned into rituals – her brushing her teeth in nothing but one of his hoodies, sleeves too long and neckline stretched from wear. He’d already be in the kitchen, brewing coffee the way she liked it: milk, just a splash, and a swirl of honey. No need to ask, he just knew.

Sometimes they moved around the flat without speaking, music humming low in the background, caught in their own thoughts but still orbiting each other. He’d pass her a mug without a word, and she’d curl her hand around it like it was his hand she was holding. Other days, they cooked dinner together, him stirring pasta, her dancing barefoot around the kitchen to some old R&B track, occasionally dropping a kiss to his shoulder just because she could. It wasn’t loud love. It wasn’t performative. But it allowed them to be their true authentic selves without any reservations.

One time, Carlos came home late (again). The weeks leading up to the Bahrain testing had been relentless, every day packed with meetings, sim sessions, and adjusting to the new rhythm with Williams. He was used to returning to a quiet, dim apartment after long days like this. But not anymore. Now, home smelled like grilled vegetables and sounded like whatever low-stakes show she had playing on the TV. Warmth clung to the air like something he could wrap himself in.

She was curled up on the couch, wearing her pajamas, legs tucked beneath her and a blanket thrown haphazardly across her lap.

“There are freshly made burgers in the oven,” she called out without even looking away from the screen. “I tried to set the oven timer so they’d still be warm.”

That one simple sentence nearly knocked the air out of him. It wasn’t just thoughtfulness. It was the casual way she did things like that. As if it was second nature to care for him. As if she belonged here, with him. A grin stretched across his face before he even realized it.

When he finally dropped down beside her, letting his body sink into the cushions and his exhaustion fade just a little, the words slipped out before he could stop them.

“God, I love you.”

The silence that followed hit him like a slap. He froze, realizing what he’d said. Too fast? Too soon? A couple of months had passed since Monte Carlo, since they’d finally put a name on what they were. Things had been good, but he hadn’t planned to say it. Not yet. Maybe not like this.

For a split second, fear bubbled up in his chest. Then she turned to him, smiling lazy and eyes full of that impossible softness that always seemed to undo him.

“I don’t know if you’re being religious or calling me God,” she said, head tilting just a little, “but either way, I love you more.”

His heart stuttered, just once. Relief flooding in, knocking the wind out of him all over again. There were still ghosts haunting the edges of what they were building, but right now, the feelings were growing fonder. And for the first time in a long time, Carlos believed it would last.

But sometimes, she’d linger in the bathroom longer than she meant to, just to shake off the overthinking about some words he said. Sometimes, he’d watch her while she slept and wonder how someone could look so calm next to him when he was still learning how not to self-destruct. There were those moments. Fleeting, barely-there pauses in their routine. Glances that didn’t land. Words half-said, then swallowed. Not arguments, just tension, subtle but present, like a crack forming in a foundation no one wanted to acknowledge.

They laughed a lot. They kissed even more. But every now and then, one of them would say something too sharply. He’d shut down without meaning to. She’d withdraw with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

As the time passed and their relationship grew and deepened, disagreements were no longer a question of if, but when. It was natural – a sign that they were both real, both human, both still learning how to love and be loved the right way. What mattered wasn’t the presence of conflict, but how they navigated it. How they circled back to each other after the storm. But the truth was, no matter how far they’d come, every fight still stung just as badly as the first. Maybe even more. Because now, there was more to lose. Now, the silences hit harder. The words, when they came, cut deeper.

And the worst part? Carlos still hadn’t learned how to stay. He didn’t know how to sit with discomfort, to hold space for pain without retreating from it. In the heat of the moment, his instinct never wavered: he walked away. Not because he didn’t care – but because he cared so much he didn’t know what to do with all the emotions.

She’d wait, every time. But even the strongest hearts can only take so much waiting.

As summer edged closer, the calendar finally loosened its chokehold – at least on paper. The races came a little slower now, the travel days stretched out with just enough space to pretend things were easier. But breathing room didn’t mean peace.

Not for them.

The cracks they’d carefully papered over all winter were starting to split wider under the weight of everything unsaid. Carlos was still carrying the bruises from his rough start with Williams, frustrated, tense, never really able to leave the pressure at the track. And her moods, usually so even, had been swinging unpredictably for weeks now, leaving both of them confused and defensive.

It didn’t take much to spark a fire anymore. The argument that night started, ironically, with nothing more than a photo.She was scrolling through her phone, mindless, half-watching the muted TV, when the image popped up: Carlos, earlier at an event, arm slung around a girl whose smile was a little too wide, whose body leaned a little too close.

It shouldn’t have mattered. It wasn’t anything new. Fans adored him, he adored them back in that polite, easy way that made him Carlos. But tonight, it hit differently. Maybe because she already felt like she was losing pieces of him, one laugh and one late night at a time. Or maybe because for weeks she hadn't been able to look in the mirror without seeing someone unrecognizable and because hormones made everything a little more raw, a little more breakable.

When she heard his footsteps approaching from their bedroom, she didn’t even think before she spoke.

“Did you have fun today?”, voice light but slicing. Carlos immediately caught the off tone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?’ he sat next to her on the sofa, visible confusion on his face.

“Nothing,” she shrugged, tossing the phone to him. “Just… nice to see you enjoying yourself, that’s all.”

It didn’t take him more than a glance to see what had set her off.

“It was a fan. Jesus, you’re making something out of nothing again.”

Again. The word landed like a slap.

“Maybe if you still looked at me the way you looked at her, I wouldn’t have to,” she said, voice dripping with envy, her eyes never meeting his gaze.

Carlos’s mouth twisted. Frustration boiled up the way it always did when he didn’t have the words to fix it.

“This is what you do,” he bit out. “Pick a fight because you’re in a bad mood. Blame me for it.”

“Yeah, because I’m the problem. And God forbid I dare to voice my feelings out,” she threw back, folding her arms tight across her chest like armor.

Carlos’s jaw tensed; his fingers curled into fists at his sides. He took a deep breath and stood up, realizing that whatever he said now would only make her spiral further.

“You know what?” he said, voice sharp. “I’m not doing this tonight. I’m going to Charles’.”

He turned around, already heading to grab his keys. Maybe if she wasn’t so tired, so worn down, she would’ve let him go. But not tonight.

“Sure,” she snapped, her voice cracking despite her best efforts, “go ahead. Leave. Like you always do. Leave us.”

The word hung there, thick and heavy, an earthquake in a single syllable.

Carlos froze. And she kept going.

“It’s the only way you know how to deal with situations like this, isn’t it? Always leaving. Always making me deal with my feelings alone, wondering if this is the time you're done with me for good.”

Her voice shook, but she pushed through it. “I can’t do this. This–”

“What do you mean, ‘us’?” he interrupted, voice low and shaky, like he wasn’t sure he heard her right.

Her throat burned. She didn’t want to say it like this. She didn’t want this to be the moment. But she couldn’t un-say it now.

“I’m pregnant, Carlos,” she whispered, voice breaking. “And I can’t– I can’t do this with someone who’s always halfway out the door. I can’t raise a kid wondering if you’re going to leave the second it gets hard.”

Carlos didn’t move for a second. Then, slowly, he came back, sinking down onto the edge of the bed like his legs didn’t know how to hold him up anymore.

His hands ran down his face, breathing shaky, but not because he was doubting it, not because he didn’t want it.

Family. With her. Not something he ever thought he’d deserve. But now that it was real, sitting between them like a live wire… There wasn’t a single part of him that regretted it.

“How long have you known?” he asked, voice hoarse, almost afraid to break whatever fragile thread was holding them together.

She twisted the hem of her sweatshirt around her fingers, not meeting his eyes.

“A month,” she said quietly. ”I’m... eleven weeks now.”

Something clicked sharply into place in Carlos’s mind. The flashes he hadn’t pieced together before.

The night she refused to come to the drivers’ dinner, claiming she was sick. How he got frustrated with her, accused her of blowing him off. Left her to deal with it alone. The way her moods had swung wildly some days, and instead of asking, he’d pulled back, snapping instead of supporting. The fights. The cracks. All the moments he could have held her closer, but didn’t. His chest tightened with regret so fierce it nearly knocked him over.

Meanwhile, she kept talking, voice trembling slightly like she couldn’t stop herself even if she tried.

“It’s been rough. The first trimester has been…” she shook her head, searching for the right word. “Hard. And with all the tension between us, I–” she swallowed, the confession threatening to strangle her, “I thought about leaving. About raising it alone.”

Carlos looked at her then, staring deep into her soul. The anger from earlier, the fear clouding everything between them – it was all gone. He only saw her – raw and scared and still so fiercely strong. Carrying not just his child, but the weight of every unspoken thing between them.

He slid across the couch until he was close enough to touch her, but didn’t, not yet. Not until she wanted him to.

“I don’t want you to do this alone,” he said quietly, fiercely. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to.”

Her eyes finally met his, guarded, shining with unshed tears.

“I mean it,” Carlos whispered, like a vow. “We can do this. We’re going to be better for them.”

She hesitated for a heartbeat. Two. Then, like a dam breaking, she leaned into him. He caught her instantly, pulling her into his arms, cradling the back of her head, anchoring her against him like he was afraid she might disappear if he let go.

She knew things weren’t magically fixed, that the doubt would still curl around the edges of her mind, whispering that maybe he was staying because of the baby, not because of her.

But here he was. Still here. Holding her like he meant it. And for now, that was enough.

Silent tears spilled down her cheeks, soaking into his shirt where her face was pressed against him. Carlos felt the dampness, the shudder of her breath against his chest, and somehow he knew – he just knew – what was running through her head.

His hand found the back of her neck, thumb brushing soothingly over her skin, grounding her.

“Cariño,” he murmured against her hair, voice low and steady. “When things get hard... when your mind starts telling you all the wrong things... don’t shut me out, okay? Don’t let me walk out on you. I know that I’m not the easiest person to be with, but you are the only one who can hold me down. So please, talk to me.”

He pulled her tighter against him, feeling the damp warmth of her tears soak through his shirt. His own chest ached with the weight of it – the mistakes he’d made, the fear she still carried, the trust she was still fighting to give him.

“I chose you before,” he whispered, like it was the easiest truth in the world. “And I’m choosing you now. Every day. No matter what.”

Her fingers clutched his hoodie, the smallest broken sound escaping her, but this time it wasn’t fear – it was something closer to hope, fragile and real.

They still had a lot to learn. A lot to fix. But they would.

Together.

“No, you’re not carrying that,” Carlos commented, rising halfway from the floor where he was crouched in front of an almost-finished crib. His eyes narrowed at the box in her hands like it personally offended him.

She raised a brow and shushed him with a dramatic flick of her wrist.

“Relax, Carlitos. It’s just a changing pad. It barely weighs a thing.”

With a roll of her eyes and a small grunt, she set the cardboard box down on top of the assembled changing table. The nursery had taken shape quickly in the past few weeks – muted tones, soft lighting, tiny clothes already folded into drawers that smelled faintly of lavender detergent and baby powder. Books lined the small shelf. Plush toys peeked out of the corner.

Carlos took a step back to look around, wiping his palms on his sweatpants.

“We actually pulled it off,” he muttered, more to himself than her. “This is starting to look like... a real home.”

And for once, it really did.

Things were looking up.

The past six months hadn’t been easy, but they’d been transformative. After the storm came something close to peace.. Therapy became a grounding point, not just for the baby’s sake, but for theirs. A shared promise: to give their child the kind of love they hadn’t always known growing up. To unlearn the damage, brick by brick. It was their way to show up for each other in a way that no one else did. Carlos had surprised them both with how open he became. Somewhere along the way, the sessions stopped feeling like obligation and started feeling like oxygen. His dread, the constant, clawing fear of not being enough, slowly faded into something quieter. Manageable.

She stayed at work as long as her body allowed it, balancing spreadsheets and mood swings like a pro, until her doctor insisted she step back and take her pregnancy leave. The downtime hadn’t come easily to her, but it gave her space to breathe. Nest. Heal. She was fighting demons of her own, not only fearing the mistake her impulsiveness can cause to their relationship, but also how it could damage their child in the long run.

But healing didn’t come neatly packaged with a bow. Therapy didn’t wave a magic wand over their problems – it just handed them the tools. And some days, they still fumbled. They still argued, got stubborn, said the wrong thing at the wrong time. But now, there was something different at the heart of it all – intention. Instead of walking away, they leaned in. Instead of shutting down, they reached out. It wasn’t perfect, but it was honest. They weren’t just learning how to love each other better – they were learning how to stay, even when it got hard.

And the baby? Oh, the baby was already the most loved fetus on the grid. When they’d shared the news – “Sainz Jr. Jr. arriving 2026” scrawled across a grainy ultrasound on Instagram – the internet had exploded. Aunties and uncles lined up in their DMs, a different driver claiming dibs on godparent status every week. The group chats were chaotic. Pure, hilarious chaos.

And now, the calm. The nursery light dimmed to a warm gold as the sun dipped lower. She was curled on the sofa, a hand on her stomach, the other balancing a cup of chamomile tea he’d just handed her.

He joined her a moment later, sitting down slowly, one hand resting lightly on her belly as if it grounded him there. They didn’t need many words. But tonight, something buzzed in the air, sweet and slow.

They talked about the future. About tiny shoes and first birthdays and whether the baby would inherit Carlos’ curls or her sarcasm. The laughter died down to a quiet hum as he shifted beside her, suddenly more serious, more certain. And then he reached into his pocket.

“Okay,” he said, clearing his throat. “So, I’ve been thinking about how to do this. I had about fifty different ideas. I threw out forty-nine of them last night. And I’m probably still going to mess it up–”

Carlos took a steady breath as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box with hands that had never felt so unsure. She watched him, confused at first, then still – eyes fixed on his face as he began to speak.

“I’ll never forget the first time I saw you,” he said quietly, voice steadier than he expected. “You pulled me in like you had a gravity of your own. And in that moment, I just knew I needed you.”

She sat up slowly, one hand braced against her belly, the other covering her mouth as emotion washed over her.

“We started with a spark... and then we were on fire. It was too much, too fast, and I kept telling myself we needed to slow down. Be cool. And I guess... we got our slowdown. We both slipped into our old, toxic ways. But somehow, I think we had to fall apart to learn how to come back together. Even when I was with someone else, before we figured this out... I knew. You were it for me. My endgame. There’s never been anyone else.”

She blinked, tears pooling in her lashes.

“Our love started like one of those old children’s games – pulling petals, wondering ‘she loves me... she loves me not.’ But once you really had me, truly had me, I never doubted your love or wanted to be anywhere else. I still don’t.”

He paused, eyes locked with hers as he dropped down to one knee, gently taking her free hand in his.

“I’ve made more mistakes than I can count. And the fact that I’m standing here, still getting to love you, is nothing short of a miracle. But know this – I would’ve never let you go without a fight. Never.”

A tear slipped down her cheek.

“I know I’ll mess up again. We both will. But if we keep showing up, keep fighting for this... there’s no doubt in my heart. No place I’d rather be than right here. With you. Always.”

She blinked. Once. Twice. Then her lips parted, and her face crumpled into something between awe and disbelief. But instead of answering him, she winced. A soft gasp escaped.

Carlos immediately froze.

“What? What is it?” he asked, already shifting closer, hand still wrapped around the little velvet box.

She blinked again, wider this time, and let out a shaky laugh.

“I think my waters just broke.”

Carlos stared at her.

“You’re joking,” he said.

She wasn’t.

And suddenly, the calm was gone. The rush of it all descended – nerves, adrenaline, panic wrapped in joy. But somehow, amid all the flurry of half-packed hospital bags and reaching for his phone with trembling hands, Carlos was still grinning.

Because this? This was everything.

25 notes · View notes

tpwk-formula1 · 3 months ago

Text

Love Marks - TEXT AU

AN - Was supposed to post this last week but here it is!

TW - Hickeys, back scratches

Featuring - Max Verstappen, Ollie Bearman, Carlos Sainz, Oscar Piastry, Lando Norris, Charles Leclerc, Franco Colapinto, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon

Max Verstappen

Ollie Bearman

Carlos Sainz

Oscar Piastry

Lando Norris

Charles Leclerc

Franco Colapinto

Lewis Hamilton

George Russell

Alex Albon

1K notes · View notes

nyree2712 · 3 days ago

Text

Formula 1 - Incorrect Quote 162

Max: Daniel I just realized something. I think we had a bad childhood

Daniel: Yeah, I know

Max: What do you mean you know?!?!

Daniel: Look at you. Look at how you stand

Max: What?!?!

Daniel: People who had good childhoods don't stand like that

#He don't stand straight hahaha #incorrect quotes #quotes #formula 1 incorrect quotes #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 #f1 incorrect quotes #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo #maxiel friendship #maxiel

145 notes · View notes

lewisvinga · 11 months ago

Text

yeah, my wife | oscar piastri x fem! reader

summary; oscar randomly revealed that he was married young and it sends the grid into chaos and confusion. what he reveals after made everything more chaotic

fc; various girls on pinterest

warnings; cursing

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3 @fall-bambi

note; tbh this was originally gonna be a written fic but i decided w smau lols

masterlist !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and others !

oscarpiastri: 7 years of being with you, 4 years of being married. thank you for always being by my side and giving me one of the greatest gifts, our daughter. happy anniversary, i love you.

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: osc🥹🥹🥹

yourusername: oscar jr and i love you so much🧡🧡

landonorris: OSCAR JUNIOR?????

oscarpiastri: his name actually isn’t oscar dumbass

landonorris: whyd she say oscar jr🙄

yourusername: bc i happen to carry her for 9 months only for her to look exactly like the man who participated for 5 mins 😔

oscarpiastri: she’s my mini me😁

username: TJIS IS NOT A DRILLLL

username: omg he’s A GIRL DAD????😧😧😧

username: that’s so perf for him omg

logansargeant: happy anniversary to my favorite couple!❤️

oscarpiastri: 4 years ago we partied like miami frat boys wow😮

yourusername: thank you, logan<3333 i’m bringing sugar cookies tmrw btw!!!

logansargeant: SCORE!

alex_albon: share w the rest of us🙄

logansargeant: no

charles_leclerc: A CHILD HAVING A CHILD???😀😀😀

oscarpiastri: i’m 23 actually

charles_leclerc: A CHILD BASICALLY????

username: wait omg high school sweethearts this is so cute 🥹🥹🥹

maxverstappen1: damn with a child too??

oscarpiastri: well, yes!

lewishamilton: fatherhood suits you! congrats to you both❤️

oscarpiastri: thank you, lewis!

yourusername: akkdoakxkdkxoskxosdo lewis knows who i am alsnakdk

username: y/n is so me actually

pierregasly: yk what, hiding a wife and child is such a you thing.. congratulations though!

oscarpiastri: 😺😺

username: never beating the cat allegations i fear

username: LMAO DID NONE OF TJE DRIVERS KNOW???😭😭😭

landonorris: NO. 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

landonorris: HE’S SO FAKE

landonorris: #cancelloscarpiastri #oscarpiastriisoverparty

logansargeant: i knew 😋

landonorris: FUCK YOU AMERICANS!!!

oscarpiastri: someone’s grumpy…..😆

yourusername: maybe he needs a nap like baby piastri 🤔🤔

landonorris: actually i am quite tired

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri scenario #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader

7K notes · View notes

itsnesss · 3 days ago

Text

𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲 | max verstappen × fem!reader

summary | in a quiet bar in monaco, you unexpectedly meet max, who finds peace and love in your ordinary, grounded life. max shows you that to him, you're anything but ordinary

warnings | fluff, romance, emotional

word count | 0.6 k

🖇 more mv1 🖇 f1 masterlist

You never planned on falling in love with someone like Max Verstappen.

In fact, your life had always been the opposite of an Instagram fantasy. You woke up early, made instant coffee, took public transport to work, and came home tired, repeating the same cycle of grey days. Until, for reasons you still don’t quite understand, Max walked into your ordinary world. No cameras. No Formula 1. No fans or flashing lights.

Just him. And you.

You remember that first night. You, sitting at the bar in a tucked-away spot in Monaco, and him, wearing a cap pulled low like he was trying to hide from the world that knew him. He talked to you like you were the only person in the room, like you weren’t just a normal girl living an ordinary life. He made you laugh. And when he walked you home, he didn’t say goodbye—he said, “Can I see you tomorrow?” Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And it was.

He took you to places that didn’t show up on Google Maps. Laughed at the memes you sent him at two in the morning. Watched movies with you even if he fell asleep halfway through. Cooked for you—badly, but with effort. And every time he held your hand, he did it like it was the most extraordinary thing he’d ever done.

And you, someone who never cared about racing or speed, started to understand why he did it. Because with him, everything felt like a heartbeat. A rush. An unexpected curve.

But there was fear too.

Fear that one day he’d leave. That your world would go back to being grey. That you were just that: a regular girl, a pause in his shining life.

One afternoon, while Max was asleep face down on your couch, exhausted after a race with one hand hanging off the side like he was still dreaming of driving, you looked at him with your heart in your throat. You loved him. So much it hurt.

And you whispered:

“I’m nothing special, Max.”

He stirred. Opened his eyes, groggy, and when he saw your expression, he sat up.

“What did you say?”

“That… I’m not special. You could have anyone. Models, actresses, people who don’t have to Google what ‘pole position’ means.”

Max stared at you for a moment. Then he leaned in and cupped your face in his hands.

“You’re not ordinary,” he whispered, like every word was a vow. “Do you know what I feel when I’m with you? Peace. Reality. Life. You don’t make me run. You make me stay. You make me want more Sundays with you than podiums.”

Your eyes filled with tears, and he wiped them gently with his thumb.

“If you think you’re ordinary, then the whole world’s confused. Because to me… you make everything make sense.”

You hugged him. Like you were trying to stop time.

And he stayed. Not just that night.

He stayed through seasons, flights, wins and losses. He texted you from every country. Sent you flowers for no reason. Learned how to make your favorite breakfast. He introduced you to his world, but never let it change yours.

And that’s how someone like you—someone who thought they were living an ordinary life—ended up being the one constant in the life of someone who had everything… except you.

#🖇️ max verstappen #max verstappen one shot #max vertsappen fic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader

181 notes · View notes

vivace-formulala · 19 hours ago

Text

𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭: 𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒖𝒑 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒔 (𝑭𝑪𝟒𝟑 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

🫵: “AFAB; same-aged ; reserve driver for rbr ; F2 Prema driver ; angst with comfort”

⌛️: november 2024 (rookiesm)

masterlist

While your feet grew heavier by the minute, it did some good, somehow, when it found you a quiet spot—sandwiched between barricaded areas between the F2 and F3 garages.

You sat on a secluded bench, your body curled into itself, as if trying to shrink away from the weight pressing down on your chest. The world outside this quiet corner of the paddock buzzed with the noise of F1 teams for Free Practice at Lusail Circuit, but here, in this small bubble of solitude, you could allow yourself to feel the disappointment that had been gnawing at you all day.

It was meant to be your year.

Your hands were shaking. You’d fought so hard—too hard, maybe—and yet, no seat. What Kelly said dunked you into cold water, confirming what you feared most: Red Bull had chosen someone else next season.

The day started with more hope. The Red Bull hospitality had been brimming with excitement for Free Practice. Two races left in the Constructors’ Championship, and you’d given the other teams a run for their money with the points you had fought tooth and nail for, subbing in for Max while he juggled being a world champion and a new father.

But today, with Max back, you were benched—playing interviewer for PREMA on Instagram, your F2 home.

Once the cameras stopped rolling and you’ve terrorized enough people on the paddock, you found yourself cooing over the three-month-old baby Verstappen, charming onlookers as the little one giggled at your antics.

“WAG in training, huh?” Kelly joked, resting a hand on the stroller, watching you both with a soft smile.

You stood taller, grin faltering. “What do you mean?” Around you, the crowd began to drift off, pulled back to the thrill of Free Practice.

Kelly smiles, not mirroring hers. “You’re a natural with the camera... and kids love you. They media try to find every flaw with us, you know. But I’m sure you’ll be a fan favorite... watching his races.”

Oh, but you weren’t a WAG. You were a driver.

“Well, I don’t know much about that, since I’ll be behind the wheel,” you replied with a laugh, trying to play it off.

That’s when her expression changed. Something softer. Something sad.

“Oh honey,” she said gently. “I thought you saw the news.”

Your brows furrowed, smile trying not to collapse.

Kelly's face became unreadable. “And… with you… and the Haas boy, I thought... well, I thought you’d be joining us girls this year…”

Your face paled and flushed all at once. Your ears rang. Your vision tunneled. The truth became unbearable.

You didn’t have an F1 seat next year.

Across the room—almost cruelly on cue—Christian Horner walked in. Surrounded by important people with clipboards and the media, he caught sight of you.

But he didn’t hold your gaze. Just like he didn’t hold his promise.

He looked away and left.

Your world tilted. You’d been promised a seat at Zandvoort. Max was there to attest. The stars had finally seemed to align. You’d built your career from the ground up—earned every point, every podium. You weren’t supposed to be clawing for a shot anymore. You were supposed to be there.

But instead, as the press release now confirmed: Y/N L/N—still trying to claw her way into Formula 1.

And so, that’s how your heavy heart found you. Tears threatening to fall, hands trembling as you clutched your phone with the stupid article. You didn’t know what to do. Didn’t even realize you weren’t alone until a voice cut through your spiraling thoughts.

“Oh Prema girl, you found my secret cry spot.”

Your head snapped up, heart skipping. The brown curls. The blue eyes. The teasing smirk on his pouty lips

Franco Colapinto.

Of course it would be him.

Monaco 2022 flashes in your mind.

Somehow, he always had this timing. Like he knew exactly when to show up—whether you wanted him to or not.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, trying to sound annoyed, but your voice wavers.

“Shouldn’t you be at Free Practice with Alpine?” You swipe quickly at your eyes, embarrassed. But it’s Franco. He’d seen you in all sorts of moments—just not like this.

He gave his signature smirk of his, leaning casually against the fence, tumbler in hand. “Yeah, but they gave it to Jack. Because of that article you’re reading,” he adds with a smirk before sipping.

You blink. Confused.

Franco shrugged trying to maintain his nonchalance. “Turns out, they don’t want me either. You know, despite half a season or whatever. Just the backup.”

Your heart twists in your chest, realizing he was in the same boat you were. You let out a soft laugh, though it felt more like a quiet sob.

“Wait,” she said softly, her eyes scanning his face. “You didn’t get a seat?”

Franco looked at her, the twinkle in his eyes fading for just a second. “Yeah,” he confirmed, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t.”

The realization hit her like a wave. Franco Colapinto, the charismatic and talented driver, a force in their older F2 days, the guy who had made a name for himself with his passion and fire in Williams mid season—was now just like her. Stuck.

You don’t know what to say. So you don’t. You watch him fiddle with the tumbler.

“Iced yerba,” he says, offering it to you. “Try.”

You hesitated, but not for long. You’d watched enough of his interviews with Alex to know the drill. Taking it in hand, you brought it to your lips and took a cautious sip. The bitterness hits immediately, your face contorting slightly at the unfamiliar taste.

“Yeah, it’s strong,” Franco chuckles, clearly amused.

You handed the tumbler back. “At least you’re up as a reserve,” you muttered, though the words tasted hollow. You didn’t even get a reserve seat— but of course you didn’t want to be a reserve. You didn’t want to be waiting in the wings. You wanted to be racing.

Franco took a sip, his expression softening as he sat down beside you. He didn’t keep the tumbler back, instead resting it on the bench between the both of you, where it sat as a silent testament to your shared disappointment.

"But you and me," he began, his voice light but meaningful, "we’re meant to go fast. Not sit on the sidelines.”

You let out a deep sigh, nodding as you took for another swig of the yerba. The bitterness almost felt comforting now. It was like the taste of failure—a reminder that misery loves company.

“It’s like…” you whispered, hugging your knees to her chest, feeling small. “A slap in the face, you know? After everything I’ve done, after how hard I’ve fought... I had a taste of the top. And now? Now, I take two steps back, and I’m back where I started.” You shook her head in disbelief. “How am I supposed to get out of this?”

Franco leans back, letting the hum of engines echo around you both. He doesn’t try to fix it. He just listens.

“Yeah,” he murmurs eventually. “Feels like it all means nothing when you don't get chosen.”

“Exactly,” you say. Your voice raw. “You just... you wonder if it was all worth it. If you’re just... not enough.”

Franco smiles, and spares a glance at you. “You and me, we’ve got the passion. The heart. The drive. They can’t take that away from us.”

You looked at him then, surprised at how comforting his words were. “How do you do that?” you asked quietly, the weight in your chest lightening just a little. “How do you always know what to say?”

Franco shrugged, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the mate,” he joked. “But seriously, you’re more than just a driver. Don’t let anyone make you feel like you’re not enough.”

You smile—really smile—for the first time all day. “You’re right,” you say, taking a deep breath. “I don’t know what’s next...”

Franco’s gaze softened. “You’ll figure it out. And no matter what you decide, I’ve got your back.”

For a moment, there was a silent understanding between you both, something unspoken but undeniable. Your heart was still heavy, but somehow it didn’t feel as crushing with Franco beside her.

Cheers and claps filled the air— the sound of Free Practice finishing echoed in the distance, Franco stood up, offering you a hand.

“You want me to walk you back?” he asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

You raised an eyebrow, not quite sure if you was ready to face the pit crews and the chaos again. But his offer was genuine, and there was a comfort in knowing you didn’t have to go through this alone.

“Sure,” you replied, standing up and brushing off the grass from your shirt. You walked side-by-side toward the garages, your heart still heavy but a little less burdened. You didn’t know what the future held, but for the first time today, maybe—just maybe—it would be okay.

As you walk, Franco pulls out his phone. “Hey, realized I don’t have your number.”

He offers it to you, grinning.

“Just in case you need someone to talk to.”

You smiled, tapping you number into his phone before handing it back. You didn’t say it out loud, but you had a feeling there was something here—a spark, a bond forged in the heat of the Doha Sun and in the trenches of disappointment.

For now, it was enough.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓

©ｖｉｖａｃｅ－ｆｏｒｍｕｌａｌａ

#franco colapinto x reader #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 oneshot #fc13 x reader #f1 x reader imagines #f1 imagines #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x reader imagines

46 notes · View notes

starkwlkr · 24 hours ago

Text

i’m so hungry . . . | fernando alonso

an: here’s my take on the ‘I’m so hungry I could eat’ trend! it’s a crime that i haven’t written enough for fernando 😭 i made this gender neutral but if i wrote she, please let me know and i’ll fix it!! yea, it’s a small one i do apologize for that :(

warnings: use of y/n 😔 I’m so sorry besties

The Aston Martin social media admin had let Fernando know that they were planning to film a tiktok with him. The Spanish man was no stranger to the app, he loved it, though he wasn’t aware of the recent trend because of how busy he was so when a name he hadn’t heard in a long time came out of the mouth of the social media admin, he was taken back.

It started when he was sitting down next to Lance in the Aston Martin motorhome when the admin came with their phone recoding the older man. Fernando noticed the camera and gave a little wave and smile. That’s when the admin spoke up.

“I’m so hungry, are you guys hungry?” The admin asked.

“There’s food over there.” Fernando pointed in the direction of the delicious food that was being prepared.

“Yeah, but I’m really hungry . . Like I’m so hungry I could eat Y/n L/n.” The admin waited for Fernando’s reaction.

Beside the older man, Lance raised an eyebrow. Who was Y/n? Did they work with Aston Martin? Were they a journalist? He was completely lost. “Who’s Y/n?” Lance questioned but no one answered so he faced his team mate. “Who’s Y/n?”

Unlike Lance, Fernando knew who Y/n was.

They were childhood friends and eventually when they were older, Fernando developed a crush on them. But with his racing career, he didn’t want to start something. He was going to be away racing all over the world and he didn’t want to leave Y/n broken-hearted so his feelings remained with him. Their last conversation was years ago, probably when Fernando became world champion. Y/n had stayed in Spain to become a teacher. The day Fernando became world champion, Y/n had called him and told him how proud they were of him. After ending the call, they never once called or saw each other in person. Fernando likes to think that Y/n is still a teacher, probably has a partner or some kids. . .

“Y/n. . . Y/n L/n? My Y/n?” Fernando started repeating the name. He always loved saying their name. “How do you know Y/n?” He sat up in his seat, leaning forwards keeping eye contact with the admin.

The admin couldn’t tell if he was getting mad. “I don’t know I just work here, but I’m so hungry I could eat Y/n L/n.”

“Is Y/n your crush or something?” Lance asked.

“No, Y/n is my best friend, they’re my everything.” Fernando replied.

“I thought I was your best friend?” Lance frowned at the older man.

“No one can replace Y/n.”

#fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso one shot #fernando alonso #fernando alonso x gn!reader #fa14 x reader #fa14 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #formula 1 #f1

192 notes · View notes

oofthwoods · 1 year ago

Text

STEPS TO YOU! ── ˙ ̟ lando norris !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: lando norris hates the idea of soulmates. for him, it's hard to see everyone in his life with a matching tattoo, or a timer, or the inability to see colors, while he has to be content with the fact that he may never find his perfect match. that is, until he starts to see mysterious footprints around the paddock, hinting at a path he never expected.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: this is my confession that my favorite soulmate!aus are the ones where they don't think they have one. the sadness of thinking you are not destined for a great love only to find out that there's someone out there for you??? mwah chefs kiss

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: to be added.

LANDO NORRIS WAS A ROMANTIC AT HEART.

He had a secret love for romantic comedies. Watching couples overcome comical obstacles before finding their happy ending always brought a smile to his face. Though he would never admit it, he found joy in the cliched plots and endearing moments portrayed on screen.

The Brit also enjoyed weddings. Family, friends, or mere acquaintances— it didn't matter. To him, the ceremony was a tangible display of true love that existed beyond the silver screen and scripted Hollywood romances.

Despite everything, Lando knew that he would never experience anything like it. Everyone around him seemed to have a sure sign that they were meant for great love: Carlos with his past life visions shared with his beloved, George with his key pendant symbolizing his destiny, and even Oscar, who occasionally vanished, leaving a girl in his place. But not Lando. No visions, no tattoos, no words etched on his arm foretelling what his soulmate would say upon their first encounter. He felt like an outsider in a world where everyone seemed to have found their perfect match, while he knew he would be alone forever.

As Lando's realization sunk in, it was an emotional rollercoaster. He wasn't just a late bloomer; he wasn't meant to blossom at all. In his childhood innocence, he embraced his supposed independence and declared that girls were gross and he could live without someone by his side forever. But as adolescence took over, he found himself increasingly on the sidelines, watching as close friends shared stories of connection and love, filling him with a painful mix of envy and despair.

Every tale of someone else's romance felt like a dagger to the heart, a wound that refused to heal. Lando couldn't help but wonder what he had done to deserve this solitary fate in a world where everyone else seemed to find their soulmates.

Occasionally, he gazed up at the dark expanse above, yearning for solutions. Had the universe overlooked him or was love just not in his destiny? Some claimed that soulmates were like atoms connected since before the Big Bang, their bond enduring despite eons passing. But what did this mean for Lando? Was he destined for a solitary life even before the cosmos took shape?

As an adult, Lando struggled to convince himself that he had come to terms with his fate. He told himself over and over again that finding true love was possible without a soulmate being involved. It didn't have to be some cosmic arrangement. Yet, deep down, even as he tried to comfort himself with this reasoning, he couldn't shake the desire for something more. He yearned to be uniquely crafted for someone, to be cherished wholeheartedly despite his imperfections and weaknesses.

Lando shook his head, pulling himself out of his thoughts and back into the present moment. The unforgiving Melbourne sun beat down on him, its golden rays spreading across the circuit. Heat radiated all around him, almost suffocating in its intensity. He cursed his decision to wear an orange hoodie that morning as a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. Walking from the entrance to his garage, he couldn't escape the discomfort caused by the heat. The thick fabric clung to his skin, trapping him in its grasp as the temperature continued to rise.

Beside him, Oscar emanated an infectious energy. The pilot was fully immersed in the atmosphere of his home country's race, evident through his beaming smile. Despite the hustle and bustle around them, they maintained a calm demeanor, as if they were in a world of their own, oblivious to the cameras of the photographers trying to capture every moment.

Lando observed Oscar's anxious glances, as if he was searching for a particular person.

Deciding to break the silence, Lando asked, "Has your family arrived?"

Oscar's mind seemed elsewhere as he replied, "Oh, yeah. They're here. I'm just looking for someone else."

Someone else. Lando's brow furrowed as he thought about the mysterious bond between Oscar and his soulmate. Every now and then, without warning or explanation, the Australian would switch places with the girl he was connected to. Initially, Lando feared that this could happen during a race and result in a disastrous outcome. However, he soon realized that the universe was smart enough to only make these switches when both were safe.

"You met her?" Lando finally asked, curious about Oscar's soulmate. He looked at him with confusion before smiling sadly.

"Not yet, and she's not the one i'm looking or," Oscar replied, bringing a small sense of relief to Lando. He immediately felt guilty for wishing that others wouldn't find their soulmates, knowing it was selfish and petty.

Additionally, Lando could recall a peculiar incident from the previous year, when Oscar suddenly disappeared, and a girl had surprisingly turned up in the McLaren garage, clad in pajamas and exuding an unusual calmness about the situation. He remembered her as a charming and witty girl, and the thought that Oscar had someone special to share his life with brought a comforting warmth to Lando's heart, though it was tinged with a hint of jealousy.

"I have a friend coming over today," Oscar interjected, breaking through Lando's thoughts. "We went to elementary school together, but it's been a while since we've seen each other. She finished college last year, and managed to take a few days off to visit."

Lando nodded along as Oscar talked about his friend, dividing his attention between their conversation and the busy paddock. He couldn't help but notice weird stains on the ground and wished people would be more considerate of the space.

The two McLaren pilots still had a few minutes before the first meeting and the final free practice before qualifying. They decided to take refuge from the scorching sun inside their respective driver's rooms, seeking a moment of tranquility before the hustle and bustle of the track.

Lando made his way down the narrow path to the driver's room, noticing strange marks on the floor. The team garage was typically spotless, and he couldn't comprehend how it had become so messy.

"Who the hell made this mess?" Lando furrowed his brow and glanced around the room.

Oscar, perplexed, asked, "What mess?"

With a chuckle, Lando replied, "Are you blind? Look at the damn floor, it's covered in stains." He pointed to the ground with his arm.

Oscar tried to play along, forcing a laugh. "Mate, did you hit your head on the way here? The floor is spotless, as always."

Lando's eyes narrowed as he examined the stains on the ground more closely. What he imagined was dirt from a worker's shoe, appeared to not be random splatters; they seemed deliberate, almost forming a pattern. And then, in a sudden moment of clarity, Lando's heart skipped a beat as he realized the stains looked like footsteps.

"This is strange," he muttered, crouching down to get a better look.

Hearing Lando's concern, Oscar joined him and peered at the marks. "What are you thinking?"

Lando's mind was filled with various thoughts. He wondered if the intense heat was causing him to hallucinate. A thought crossed his mind that someone had wandered into the garage barefoot, possibly in search of new shoes. Everything seemed mildly possible.

Despite his efforts to suppress it, a nagging part inside him reminded him of the nights he spent wondering about potential invisible soulmate connections. He couldn't help but recall the excitement of discovering invisible threads - like leaving colorful marks upon touch or having their thoughts connect when within a certain distance, almost like telepathy. Things that wouldn't appear on his body when he turned eight, but still meant he had someone.

The 15-year-old version of himself seemed to be pounding on his chest, making him remember the thread through footsteps that he had long forgotten about, and started to question if even existed. Yet, Oscar didn't seem to notice the distinct marks on the floor and Lando couldn't possibly be hallucinating from dehydration.

Oscar placed his hand on Lando's back and felt a shiver run through his friend's body. "Lando, you're starting to worry me. Do you want to go to the medical bay?"

Lando quickly got up from the floor, shaking off Oscar's touch. "No need, Os. I'm fine." He forced a smile, but there was a lump in his throat as he tried to swallow down the fear and uncertainty. He didn't want to get his hopes up again, only to have them crushed once more.

"What do you think of the place?" Oscar's voice startles you from behind,.

A smile lights up your face as you turn around to see your friend in person for the first time in a long while. You eagerly embrace him with open arms, attempting to lift him off the ground like you used to when you were kids.

"Wow, okay, you're not as light as you used to be."

Oscar chuckles, and playfully returns the favor by lifting you up. "Nope, I'm not. Or maybe you're just not as strong anymore."

You tease, giving his shoulder a light slap. He winces and holds onto it, pretending it hurts.

"It's impressive." You answer his previous question. "So many people, so much noise, but I can see why you love it here." You take in the bustling atmosphere with a laugh.

The Aussie leans back against something and asks with a playful glint in his eye, "So, what's been going on in your world?"

You chuckle, immediately feeling at ease with him. "Just the usual post-grad life. Trying to figure it all out."

"Will you stick with auto sports?" He asks hopefully.

"I have an interview lined up to shadow a F2 journalist, so let's hope for the best." You make a gesture of crossed fingers. You thought that graduating with a degree in Journalism would give you direction in life, but almost a year later, you're still searching for your calling.

"It's already yours. I've never met anyone who could get honest answers from drivers like you do." He tried to calm you.

"I interviewed you once for a college project, Os. I don't think that counts." You chuckle.

"Come on, I was in f2 back then. That's definitely something to put on your resume."

"I'll keep that in mind." You nod.

It didn't feel like it had been so long since you two last saw each other in person.

As your gaze sweeps over the cluttered garage once more, something strange catches your eye, and you furrow your brow in confusion.

"Isn't Easter still a ways off?" Your eyes follow a trail of small, misshapen footprints leading around the room and you can't help but comment, "And whoever left those prints definitely didn't excel in their Arts & Crafts classes. They look nothing like bunny paws."

Oscar couldn't believe it. What was going on with his friends and footprints that day?

He squints and shakes his head. "I don't see anything," he says, trying to follow your gaze.

"Of course you don't. I've been telling you to get your eyes checked for years," you tease with a laugh. You walk over to him and point directly at the pawprint (that looks more like a footprint) on the ground that you can clearly see, even though it's slightly faded. Oscar looks at you with confusion.

"Are you and Lando in on this together?" He starts to suspect a prank.

"Lando? Your teammate?" You shake your head. "I've never even met him, Os." A mischievous grin spreads across your face. "But maybe I should."

Oscar's gaze shifted from the empty space in front of him. "Don't even go there, missy. Teammates are strictly off-limits."

You couldn't help but tease, "Why, does he have a soulmate?"

Oscar used to give you pitying looks whenever you mentioned not having a love thread, but it had been a while since then. He missed all of you - including your bad puns.

"I don't know. We've never discussed it," Oscar shuddered. He and Lando had grown closer over the past year, but the Brit never seemed to want to talk about that topic, so Oscar left it alone.

You continue to tease, "I still don't see why he's off-limits."

"Can you imagine how traumatizing it would be to see Lando making out with my best friend?"

"It wouldn't be any weirder than collecting bugs with my best friend and then suddenly having a random girl in front of me," your counterpart argues.

"Touché" It wouldn't be right for Oscar to dictate who you should pursue, especially since you had no control over randomly talking to his soulmate after swapping places. "It still would be fucking weird."

"You know, if two people saw those pawprints and you didn't, I think it's safe to say who's the one in the wrong here," You nudged him playfully. "Maybe you're just not looking close enough. Let me guide you."

Stepping closer to the mysterious prints, you crouched down and examined them closely. "They seem... fresh, don't they?"

Oscar joined you, squinting his eyes as he tried to make out any shape or form on the ground. "I swear, there's nothing there. Are you sure this isn't some elaborate prank?"

You shook your head, running your fingers over the indentations. "No, these are real."

Despite trying his best, Oscar couldn't make out what he was supposed to be looking at. "Alright, you got me. Congrats on your and Lando's little joke."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Your frustration grows as you wonder how he could have missed the obvious footprints right in front of him.

"He saw these so-called "footprints" too." He gestured with air quotes, convinced that his best friend and teammate were up to some strange prank together.

Before you could protest, someone called out your friend's name. "I have to go, it's my engineer," he said, getting up from the floor. He gave you a friendly smile that quickly turned into a knowing smirk. "And don't follow the footprints, Alice. They won't lead you to wonderland."

Wonderland or not, you would be stupid not to follow it.

As you follow the trail of footprints through the crowded garage, your curiosity builds with each step. You maneuver carefully around toolboxes and piles of spare parts, focusing on the prints as they lead you deeper into the maze-like space.

At last, you reach the end of the trail and come face to face with a closed door. Your heart races with excitement and anticipation as you stare at the sign above it: "Lando Norris' Driver's Room"

You furrow your brow in confusion. How could Norris' driver's room be connected to the strange footprints you've been tracking? Is this some kind of elaborate prank that Oscar roped Lando into as well?

Despite the nagging feeling that something was off, you stood your ground and refused to give into whatever it was that was trying to lure you in. You mentally prepared yourself to turn around and head back to Oscar's garage, where at least you felt familiar, and he couldn't pull pranks on you in front of his entire team.

And then, as if on cue, the door swings open, revealing Lando Norris standing on the other side. His presence fills the doorway, commanding attention with an effortless grace that leaves you breathless.

In that moment, you can't help but drink in the sight of him—the way the soft glow of the room illuminates his features, casting his angular jawline and chiseled cheekbones in sharp relief. His eyes, a mesmerizing shade of azure, hold a glint of mischief as they meet yours, and you find yourself drowning in their depths.

Lando is clad in his fireproofs, the sleek material hugging his lean frame in all the right places. His racesuit hangs by his waist, a vibrant burst of color against the backdrop of the room. There's a confidence in the way he carries himself, a hint of swagger that speaks of countless hours spent behind the wheel of a racing car.

But it's not just his physical appearance that captivates you—it's the strange electricity that seems to crackle in the air when your eyes meet.

Your heart skips a beat as you find yourself in a predicament, searching for a clever excuse. You definitely didn't want to appear as a stalker-fan who snuck in. "Um, I was just... uh..."

"Oscar?" Lando interrupts, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"Yes, Oscar!" You latch onto the name like a lifeline. "I'm a friend of his."

"He mentioned you," Lando nods, a friendly grin spreading across his face.

"Ah, so Oscar's been gossiping about me, huh?" You tease, a playful smirk curling your lips as you lock gazes with Lando. "I hope he said only nice things."

Lando chuckles softly, leaning casually against the doorframe. "Oh, absolutely. But he forgot to mention how gorgeous you are"

You feel a warm flush creeping up your cheeks at his compliment, and you playfully bat your eyelashes. "Oh, did he now? Well, I'll have to thank him for the rave reviews later."

An easy silence falls between you, charged with unspoken chemistry and the promise of potential. Lando breaks the quiet with a mischievous smirk, closing the gap between you.

"Care for a little tour while we wait for Oscar? I promise not to lead you astray... too much," he adds with a wink.

Despite the lingering adrenaline from the close call and the unexpected encounter with Lando, you find yourself nodding eagerly. Oscar had been too occupied to give you a proper tour, and you were itching to explore the place.

"Lead the way, but I'm holding you to that promise of not getting lost," you tease, motioning for him to lead. As he begins to walk, you fall into step beside him, the playful brush of your shoulders sending sparks flying.

"Do you have a habit of getting lost?" Lando asks with a playful glint in his eyes.

You laugh, shaking your head in mock dismay. "Define 'a habit'," you retort, a playful sparkle in your eyes. "When we were younger, Oscar and I used to roam around this massive mall near our homes. I lost count of how many times he had to page me over the speakers because I got sidetracked and wandered off."

"I'll have to keep a close eye on you, then," Lando quips. "Can't have Oscar's friend getting lost on my watch."

You chuckle at his teasing, reveling in the easy banter between you two. As he continues to show you around the McLaren paddock, pointing out various spots and sharing amusing anecdotes, you find yourself drawn to his effortless charm and infectious energy.

"You know, I never expected today to turn out like this," you admit, stealing a sideways glance at Lando. "But I'm glad it did. Especially if it means getting a personal tour from McLaren's charming star driver."

Lando beams at your words, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Consider yourself lucky, then. Not everyone gets the VIP treatment around here." He pauses for a moment before adding with a playful grin, "Although, I must confess, it's rather challenging to focus on giving a proper tour with you flashing that smile."

Your heart flutters at his words, but you play it cool with a playful roll of your eyes. "You need to work on your flirting skills, dude."

"But do they work?" Lando counters with a cheeky smile.

"Maybe. Keep trying, and who knows where it might lead."

"Ah, so you're admitting my charm has potential?" Lando shoots back, a playful glint in his eyes.

"I didn't say that," you reply with a smirk..

"Ouch, that hurts," Lando feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Here I am, giving you the grand tour, and you won't even give me credit for my rizz."

"Okay, okay, maybe just a little credit," you concede with a laugh, nudging him lightly with your elbow. "But don't let it get to your head."

Lando grins. "Don't worry, I'll try to contain my ego."

As the tour comes to an end, you and Lando bid your goodbyes, thanking each other for the enjoyable time spent together. It's time for qualifying, and Lando is escorted towards his car by a member of his team. Just before he gets in, he looks back towards you with a faint smile. In that moment, his gaze locks with yours, and he freezes as a realization dawns upon him. The footsteps he had noticed earlier, weaving through the McLaren paddock, had a familiar pattern. They were from you.

He looks back to the path he took with you, and the marks on the floor as clear as day. They appear in front of his driver's room, in the small cafeteria where he took you to get the best coffee from the paddock (his words), and they follow you as you make your way to Oscar's side of the garage.

Lando's lips part slightly, as if he couldn't get enough air.

Before Lando could take a step towards you, his engineer's firm grip on his arm pulls him back. "Where are you going? Quali is about to start," his engineer reminds him, snapping him out of the mesmerizing realization.

Lando looks torn, torn between the exhilaration of discovering a potential connection he never noticed before and the responsibility of his racing career. He gives you one last longing look before reluctantly turning away, his mind buzzing with newfound thoughts and possibilities.

As he slides into the driver's seat and revs up the engine, he can't shake off the image of your smile, the sound of your laughter, and now, the footprints you left behind that seemed to lead straight to him. The engine roars to life, drowning out his racing thoughts as he steels himself for the high-stakes qualifying round ahead.

There were various theories floating around regarding why Lando secured the pole position. Some attributed it to an engine change, while others praised McLaren's performance on the specific circuit. But deep down, Lando knew that his main motivation was to finish everything quickly so he could talk to you.

He heard his engineer's voice in his ear through the radio, but he wasn't really paying attention. He knew he had interviews to do, photos to take, and a tire to sign, but as he stepped out of the car, his mind was consumed with thoughts of the girl he never knew existed.

After the whirlwind of interviews subsides and Lando returns to the bustling garage, his mind remains fixated on one thought: finding you. He navigates through the maze of mechanics and engineers, his determination unwavering.

Spotting Oscar amidst the commotion, Lando strides over, his expression a mix of eagerness and urgency. "Hey, Oscar," he calls out, drawing his friend's attention.

Oscar looks up from his conversation with a mechanic, a puzzled expression crossing his face at the intensity in Lando's gaze. "Hey, Lando. What's up?" he asks, curious yet cautious.

"I need to talk to your friend," Lando replies, his tone serious.

Oscar's confusion deepens, and a hint of protectiveness flickers in his eyes. "My friend? Why do you need to speak to her?" he inquires, his tone guarded.

Lando hesitates for a moment, searching for the right words. "I... I just need to ask her something," he says evasively, unwilling to divulge the true reason behind his urgency.

Oscar studies Lando intently, sensing there's more to the story than meets the eye. "Is everything okay?" he probes, his concern evident.

Lando shifts uncomfortably under Oscar's scrutiny, torn between his desire to find you and his reluctance to reveal too much. "Yeah, everything's fine," he assures, attempting to brush off Oscar's concern.

But Oscar isn't convinced, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. "Look, if you're going to involve my friend in something, I need to know what's going on," he insists firmly.

Lando sighs, realizing he can't keep dodging the question. "It's just... I met her earlier, and I... I need to talk to her," he admits, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

Oscar's expression softens as he recognizes the sincerity in Lando's words. He may be protective, but he also trusts his instincts when it comes to his friends. "Okay," he relents, nodding in understanding. "She's in my driver's room."

Before Lando can make his way there, Oscar grabs his arm, a serious expression etched on his face. "Look, I know we don't talk about this, but…" He hesitates momentarily. "I don't know if you have a soulmate, but she doesn't. And I don't want you giving her false hope, only to disappear the moment someone mentions what's on your arm, or whatever."

Lando offers a reassuring smile. "You're wrong."

"Listen, I don't care if your mark is on your arm or your ass, my point was-"

"It's not about that. It's about her not having a soulmate," Lando interjects.

Oscar's expression turns grave. "What do you mean?"

"Footsteps," Lando responds simply.

Oscar's frustration bubbles to the surface. "What's going on with both of you? First, you mention footsteps, then her." He glances at his teammate, who meets his gaze with a serene smile. In Lando's eyes, there's a glimmer of hope and relief that Oscar can't quite comprehend. Initially, he considers escorting both of his friends to the medical bay, puzzled by their strange behavior regarding footsteps that only they seem to perceive—

Footsteps that only they can see.

A sudden realization dawns upon Oscar, his eyes widening. "You two are soulmates."

"Hopefully," Lando murmurs. "I—I never thought I had one. No marks, no dreams, nothing. But this morning, I saw footsteps. And then we met, and I showed her around. We were side by side, so I didn't pay much attention. But before Qualifying, I noticed her walking toward your side of the garage, and there were footsteps leading there."

As the realization settles between them, Oscar reluctantly releases Lando's arm, allowing him to continue on his way. However, just as Lando begins to move away, Oscar calls out to him, his tone a mix of seriousness and jest.

"Lando, wait," Oscar says, his voice tinged with playful threat. "Soulmate or not, if you ever hurt my best friend, I'll make sure to crash into you in every single race."

Lando stops in his tracks, turning back to face Oscar with a wry smile. "Fair warning," he replies, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "But I can assure you, if I ever did hurt her, I'd deserve every crash."

The Brit's heart races as he stands before the door, realizing he doesn't need to ask Oscar about the girl when the footsteps guide him straight to her. He wonders if he'd ever noticed those phantom imprints before, dismissing them as mere smudges or dirt. And in a fleeting moment of clarity, he wonders if those same invisible marks had led you to his door earlier, tracing a path he hadn't noticed until now.

As Lando hesitates outside the door, uncertainty gripping his thoughts, he contemplates his next move. Should he pace back and forth until you notice the traces on the floor? Or perhaps he should boldly declare their connection as soulmates upon entering? Before he can settle on a plan, the door swings open.

"Wow!" You exclaim, your initial fright giving way to laughter. "Okay, I probably deserved that. Second time's the charm, right?"

"Uhm," Lando's throat constricts, his words stumbling over each other. In his mind, this conversation had seemed much simpler. "Look, I—I need to ask you something. Do you… have a soulmate?"

Your gaze hardens, but it's not anger that flickers in your eyes, only a hint of sorrow. "We just met today," you confess, your tone tinged with vulnerability. Lando realizes it might be an invasive question; after all, some people prefer to keep such matters private. "Is it that obvious?"

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean—" Lando fumbles, his nerves getting the best of him.

"It's alright, I understand," you say, crossing your arms with a sad smile. "You do?"

"I do," Lando confirms, gesturing subtly to the scattered footsteps that crisscross the room.

"Cool," you respond, your expression disoriented.

"No, wait, that's not what I meant." Lando's frustration mounts as he struggles to articulate his thoughts. Was this what it felt like to be stupid in love?

"It's okay, Lando, really," you reassure him gently. "I know some people like to have... fun before finding their soulmate. I won't judge you for that." Yet beneath your understanding tone, a pang of sadness lingers, the thought of forever being a mere diversion rather than a final destination.

"Listen," Lando interjects, laying his hands gently atop yours, a jolt of electricity coursing between them once more. "Earlier today, you saw those footsteps, didn't you?"

"Actually, yes," you reply, confusion clouding your features. Oscar had vehemently denied their existence, leaving you to question your own perception.

"Me too. I saw footsteps this morning. Then I noticed footsteps leading towards Oscar's garage," Lando reveals, his voice soft with emotion. He silently pleads for you not to notice the trembling in his hands. "And now, I see footsteps again. Emerging from the door and heading toward the couch. A circle of them, right in front of the television."

As Lando confides in you, his vulnerability palpable, you begin to piece it together. Your eyes widen in realization as you look around. Although you can't see the invisible footsteps he's describing, you can distinctly perceive a path, stretching from the door to where Lando stands before you.

"Every step leads me to you," he murmurs, his gaze locked on yours with unwavering intensity.

A tender smile graces your lips as you absorb Lando's words, a rush of warmth flooding your chest. "I never thought I had a soulmate," you confess softly, your voice tinged with wonder.

Lando's own smile mirrors yours, a mixture of affection and amusement dancing in his eyes. "Look at that, one thing that we already have in common," he replies, his tone gentle yet playful.

You share a moment of quiet understanding, the air thick with unspoken emotions swirling between you. It's a realization that defies logic yet feels undeniably right, as if the universe itself had conspired to bring you together. Well, it did, didn't it? Maybe you should apologize for all the times your cursed at it.

"And here we are," you say, a hint of awe coloring your words.

"Here we are," Lando echoes, his gaze never leaving yours.

A mischievous glint twinkles in your eyes as you playfully tease, "You know, when I suggested you keep trying to flirt with me, this wasn't exactly the outcome I had in mind."

Lando chuckles, his grin widening. "Well, lucky for me, there's no one I'd rather up my game with than you."

You laugh, feeling the tension ease between you as the playful banter continues. "Smooth talker," you tease, giving him a playful nudge.

"Just stating the truth," Lando replies, his tone lighthearted yet sincere. "Besides, you will have to deal with it for the rest of your life."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the playful façade giving way to a deeper connection between you. "I suppose you have a point," you concede with a smile, feeling yourself drawn even closer to him.

Lando's eyes light up with mischief as an idea sparks in his mind. "You know," he begins, a playful grin tugging at his lips, "I've spent my entire life thinking you didn't exist. I have a lot of making up to do."

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at his bold statement, but a smile tugs at the corners of your lips, intrigued by his playful demeanor. "Oh really?" you reply, a teasing glint in your eyes. "And just how do you plan on making it up to me?"

Lando's grin widens as he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Well, I was thinking we could start here. I can't really go out, but my hotel has an amazing restaraunt" he suggests, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "After that... Have you ever been to Monaco? Or Italy? Maybe after that, we could..."

You can't help but laugh at his enthusiasm, charmed by his playful spirit. "I say you're full of surprises, Lando Norris," you tease, interrupting him, a playful sparkle dancing in your eyes. "But I like the way you think."

A bashful smile graces Lando's lips as he chuckles softly. "Great," he replies, his tone now tinged with a hint of shyness. "I've got a meeting to attend, but after that, how about we meet back here?"

"You'll know exactly where to find me."

As warmth floods through Lando's heart, a tender smile graces his lips. In that fleeting moment of realization, it dawns on him—he'll never doubt your existence again. Not when there's a trail of footsteps leading him straight back to you, a path he'll eagerly follow time and time again.

Lando Norris is a romantic at heart. The universe, in all its wisdom, understood that he deserved nothing less than the greatest of loves.

fun fact i actually hate this

taglist (tell me if you want to be added or removed. crossed names means i couldn't tag you) :: @saturnssunflower @sopheeg @minkyungseokie @alexander-hamilhoe @butterfly-lover @cool-ultra-nerd @tomriddleswhorecruxes @everbizzare @chonkybonky @styl1shl1v

#f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 scenarios #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 scenarios #formula one imagine #formula one imagines #formula 1 imagines #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris scenarios

3K notes · View notes

hamilando · 9 months ago

Text

ੈ✩ a monaco cruise (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : lando norris x fem reader

summary : the chaotic process of Lando getting a wife

fc: Olivia Culpo

a/n : This is a series, let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts ! it was requested anonymously, thank you for requesting it 🫶🏻

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked ynculpo, mclaren, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 682,278 others

landonorris Monaco with my monegasque 🧡🌟🌅

view comments

user1 isn’t he British ?

user2 his girlfriend is from Monaco

mclaren a win coming up 💪🏻

liked by landonorris

ynculpo my little british man 😮‍💨💫❤️

landonorris from which angle am I little!?

george.russell your height 🫷🏻

landonorris can you like not …interfere ?

user3 Lando with his wife and side chick 🐤

user4 BAHAHA- WE ALL KNOW WHO IS THE SIDE CHICK

user5 who ?

user6 Y/N 🌝

ynculpo excuse me

user4 BAHAHAHAH SHE REPLIED

user5 can you stop with your bahahaha’s?

user6 BAHAHAHAHAH no.

charlesleclerc a very special weekend indeed ✊🏻

landonorris I beating you ?

carlossainz55 I think we all know who is winning

maxverstappen1 me in the race, Lando in the heart

landonorris CAN YOU STOP ✋🏻

user7 I smell something ☕️

user8 max’s comment will not age well

user9 LORD PERCEVAL FOR THE WIN

user10 HAIL LORD HOLY CHARLES LECLERC

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, lilihye and 452,284 others

ynculpo 4 more shots in Monaco 🧡🌅🍑

view comments

maxverstappen1 bunda 🍑

ynculpo 🗿

georgerussell damn, the middle pic be too fine 😮‍💨

ynculpo 🗿

alex.albon marry me middle pic 💪🏻

ynculpo 🗿

lilihye marry me y/n

landonorris HEY, SHOO 🤺

ynculpo it’s a yes lily 🫶🏻

charlesleclerc NO, HIS PLAN

ynculpo what plan 🗿

landonorris his plan of marrying you

ynculpo lando, I know it that there are years before you put a ring on my finger 🌝

landonorris offence taken

ynculpo no offence given 🫷🏻

comments on this post have been restricted

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 87,272 others

f1news Grid drivers and their wags were seen boarding their yatches after the Grand Prix

view comments

user1 might be just going to celebrate the win ?

user2 nah, max would never rather go to sleep

user3 with max loosing and smiling like that- hell no it is not a Grand Prix celebration

user4 calm down, it must be like some lunch get together or something

user5 it might lando’s and max’s wedding 🥹

user6 ofc, with Kelly officiating 🗿

user7 george and carmen have my heart 🥹

user8 charles looks like the rich business dad

user9 he is rich tho-

user10 and alex can bear him a kid so

user11 he already has a kid named bear 🐻

user12 and leo

user13 and oscar

user14 kelly, sweetheart match your foundation like you match your grooming skills

user15 wait till the Dutch man sees this

user16 you have a lawsuit coming up 🔝

user14 it was a joke for legal purposes ofc ☺️

liked by

wagnews Lando Norris and his girlfriend, Y/N Culpo were apparently the last ones to board the cruise 🚢

view comments

user0 they were definitely fuc-

user1 ahhhh body bang 💥

user2 AESPA MENTIONED 🦅🦅

user3 WTF IS A SUPERNOVA !?

user4 lando keeping up his fuckboy title ✊🏻

user5 there is something known as traffic 😭

user6 traffic doesn’t exists in lando’s dictionary 😮‍💨

user7 the amount of sussiness I am getting from this cruise

user8 I second that

user9 I third that

user10 IF ANY F1 DRIVER IS SEEING THIS, TELL US WHAT IS HAPPENING

user11 what if they all are boarding the cruise because of a zombie apocalypse-

user12 WTF, THAT MAKES SENSE

user13 stocking up my buldak ASAP

part 2 part 3

tg: @lydia-demarek @mel164 @h34rts4maisey @poppyflower-22 @dolphlinda

@ilivbullyingjeongin @fangirlforever2000 @magnusi-97 @clo5406 @yesmanbabe

2K notes · View notes

jungwnies · 4 months ago

Text

F1 GRID | it was never meant to be (1/2)

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, franco colapinto ୨ৎ : synopsis : your f1 boyfriend's publicist suggests he should date someone with more status in front of the camera, he agrees to it, but what happens to your relationship when his "fake relationship" with her blossoms into something more.

୨ৎ : genre : heartbreak, angst, sad themes ୨ৎ : tws : arguing, break-up, cheating ୨ৎ : word count : 2703

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

୨ৎ part two (carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri) ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : got this idea from my sister, she lowkey cooked.

ʚ・max verstappen

the hotel room felt colder than usual, despite the late spring air outside. you sat on the edge of the bed, your hands trembling slightly as max paced in front of you, his movements restless, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“you promised me,” you said, your voice quiet but filled with an unmistakable tremor of pain. “you promised me it was just an act.”

max froze, his back to you, his broad shoulders rising and falling with a shaky exhale. he didn’t turn around.

“what happened?” you pressed, your voice breaking as tears welled in your eyes. “what changed?”

his silence was louder than any answer he could have given.

you stood, the ache in your chest unbearable as you closed the space between you. “look at me, max,” you demanded, your voice sharp now, desperate. “say it. tell me it wasn’t real. tell me you didn’t—”

“i can’t,” he interrupted, his voice hoarse, raw. he finally turned to face you, his blue eyes filled with guilt and something else you couldn’t quite name. regret? pain? relief?

your breath hitched, and the room spun for a moment as the truth settled like lead in your stomach. “you fell in love with her,” you whispered, the words barely audible.

he didn’t deny it.

“how could you?” you choked out, tears spilling freely now. “you swore to me, max. you swore it was just for the cameras, that it was me you loved. how could you let this happen?”

“i didn’t mean to,” he said, his voice breaking as he ran a hand through his hair. “it wasn’t supposed to happen. i thought i could do it—i thought i could keep it separate. but… things changed.”

“things changed?” you repeated, your voice rising with anger. “what about us? what about everything we’ve been through? you don’t just fall out of love with someone, max! you don’t just replace them like—like they’re nothing!”

“you’re not nothing,” he said quickly, stepping closer, but you recoiled, the hurt too fresh, too raw. “i didn’t want this to happen. i didn’t plan it.”

“but it did,” you said bitterly, shaking your head. “you let it happen. you chose her. all those nights you spent with her, all those events, all those ‘pretend’ moments—somewhere along the way, you stopped pretending, didn’t you?”

he looked down, unable to meet your eyes.

you laughed bitterly, the sound hollow and empty. “i gave everything to you, max. i stood by you through everything—through the wins, the losses, the endless travel, the pressure. i loved you when you couldn’t even love yourself. and now you’re telling me that wasn’t enough?”

“it’s not about enough,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “you were everything, but… i changed. i don’t know how to explain it. i just… i’m not the same person i was when we started this. and maybe that’s why—”

“don’t you dare blame this on change,” you snapped, your hands balling into fists. “this isn’t about change, max. this is about you breaking every promise you ever made to me. it’s about you deciding that what we had wasn’t worth fighting for.”

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“sorry?” you repeated, your voice shaking with disbelief. “you’re sorry? do you even realize what you’ve done to me? to us? you’ve destroyed everything, max. everything.”

he didn’t respond. he just stood there, his shoulders slumped, his eyes glistening with tears he refused to let fall.

he tried to step closer, his hand reaching for you, but you shook your head. “i hope she was worth it,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the pain. “because you’ve lost me.”

with that, you turned and walked out, leaving him standing there, the echo of your words hanging in the air.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

the evening was quiet, save for the soft hum of the london skyline beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of lewis’s penthouse. he stood by the counter, his back to you, shoulders tense as he gripped the edge of the marble. you could feel the weight of the silence between you, a chasm that had only grown wider these past months.

“just say it, lewis,” you said, your voice soft but trembling. “i deserve that much.”

he exhaled, long and shaky, before finally turning to face you. his brown eyes, usually so warm and full of life, now held only guilt and a sadness that cut deep.

“it wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” he said, his voice barely audible.

your chest tightened, and you blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. “what wasn’t supposed to happen, lewis? you falling for her?”

he winced at your words, his jaw clenching as he looked away. “you know it started as a pr thing,” he said, almost defensively. “the team thought it would be good for my image—me and someone high-profile. someone who fit the brand.”

“and you agreed,” you said bitterly. “you promised me it was just for the cameras. you swore to me, lewis.”

“i thought it would be,” he said, his voice breaking. “i thought i could keep it separate. that it wouldn’t mean anything. but…”

“but what?” you snapped, taking a step closer, anger overtaking the ache in your chest. “you spent so much time pretending that you forgot it wasn’t real?”

his silence was deafening.

“i gave up so much for us,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “the constant travel, the scrutiny, always being second to your career. i did it because i loved you, lewis. because i believed in us. and now you’re telling me you fell out of love with me because you fell for her?”

“it’s not that simple,” he said, his voice rising slightly, though there was no anger behind it—only desperation. “you don’t understand what it’s like, the pressure, the expectations—”

“don’t you dare make this about your career,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “i stood by you through all of it, lewis. i was there when no one else was. and now you’re throwing it all away because someone ‘fit the brand’ better than i did?”

“that’s not what this is,” he said, his tone pleading. “i didn’t plan for this to happen. i didn’t want to hurt you.”

“but you did,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “you already did.”

he looked at you then, tears glistening in his eyes, and for a moment, you saw the man you fell in love with—the man who promised you the world, who told you that love was the only thing that mattered. but that man had made a choice, and it wasn’t you.

“i’m sorry,” he said, the words trembling as they left his lips.

you let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head as tears streamed down your face. “sorry?” you echoed, your voice cracking. “sorry doesn’t fix this, lewis. sorry doesn’t erase the nights i stayed up worrying about you, the times i put you first, or the pieces of myself i gave up to love you.”

he flinched but didn’t say a word, his silence cutting deeper than anything else.

you took a shaky step back, your breath hitching. “i hope she gives you everything i couldn’t,” you said, your voice trembling with heartbreak. “but just know—you didn’t lose me, lewis. you gave me up.”

with that, you turned on your heel, walking toward the door with as much strength as you could muster. the tears blurred your vision as they fell, but you didn’t stop. you couldn’t stop. not for him. not anymore.

ʚ・george russell

the door creaked as you stepped into the flat, soaked from the rain, your coat dripping onto the floor. george stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, a mug of tea untouched in his hand. he turned as you entered, but the usual warmth in his expression was gone.

you closed the door behind you, hanging your coat on the rack with deliberate slowness, trying to steel yourself for what you knew was coming. “you texted me to come home early,” you said, your voice careful. “what’s going on?”

he set the mug down and ran a hand through his hair, the strands disheveled as though he’d been doing it all evening. “we need to talk,” he said, his voice soft, almost too soft.

you froze, your heart sinking. “george…”

he met your gaze, guilt etched deeply in his features. “i don’t know how to say this,” he began, his voice shaking slightly, “but i have to be honest with you.”

your chest tightened as you stepped closer. “honest about what?” you asked, though the dread pooling in your stomach already told you.

he exhaled shakily, his hands gripping the edge of the counter. “i’ve been trying to keep things together, to keep this… us. but i can’t lie anymore.” he looked at you, his blue eyes clouded with regret. “i don’t feel the same way i used to.”

the air left your lungs. “what?” you whispered. “what are you saying, george?”

he hesitated, but the words came anyway, cutting through you like a knife. “i’ve fallen for her,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “the girl i was set up to date for the press. it wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did.”

you stared at him, disbelief washing over you in waves. “you promised me,” you said, your voice trembling. “you promised it was all fake, that it was just for appearances.”

“i thought it would be,” he said, his tone desperate. “i thought i could keep it separate, that it wouldn’t mean anything. but somewhere along the way… it stopped feeling like an act.”

your head shook as tears welled in your eyes. “and what about me, george? what about us? do i mean nothing to you now?”

“you mean everything to me,” he said quickly, stepping forward, but you backed away, the distance between you growing. “you were there for me when no one else was, when i needed someone who believed in me. but…” his voice broke, and his shoulders sagged. “it’s not fair to you if my heart’s not in it anymore.”

“not fair to me?” you snapped, the anger bubbling to the surface. “what’s unfair is that i stood by you through everything—your career, the pressure, the public eye—only for you to fall for someone else because she ‘fits the narrative’ better.”

his silence was deafening, his expression pained but offering no defense.

“i gave you everything,” you said, your voice breaking. “and you’re throwing it away like it’s nothing. for what, george? for someone who plays the part better than i do?”

“it’s not like that,” he pleaded, but you raised a hand, stopping him.

“no,” you said firmly, tears now streaming down your face. “you don’t get to justify this. you don’t get to pretend this is about anything but your choices.”

he reached out, but you stepped back, shaking your head. “i hope she makes you happy,” you said bitterly, your voice steadying despite the pain. “because you just lost the one person who loved you for who you really are—not the perfect image the world expects you to be.”

the words hung in the air as you turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind you.

… weeks later

the flat was empty now, your things gone, and george sat alone in the quiet, staring at the spot where you used to sit on the couch with your legs tucked under you, reading or laughing at something he said.

his phone buzzed, a text from her lighting up the screen. he stared at it for a long moment, but he didn’t reply.

because the truth was, she might’ve been the perfect fit for his career, his brand—but she wasn’t you. and now, as the weight of his choices settled over him, he realized what he had lost wasn’t just love. it was you. and no pr stunt could ever fix that.

ʚ・franco colapinto

the sound of the rain tapping against the window was the only thing that filled the space between you and franco as he sat across from you, his hands clenched into fists on the table. you’d been waiting for this moment for weeks, months, really. deep down, you had known it would come sooner or later. you had known that the pressure, the expectations, the image—none of it could last. but even when you anticipated it, even when you braced yourself, hearing it from him felt like a punch to the gut.

“i never wanted to hurt you,” franco said, his voice low, his eyes avoiding yours as he spoke.

“then why are you doing this?” you asked, your voice steady, but your heart a mess of emotions. “why now?”

his gaze finally met yours, and there was guilt there, but there was also something else—a sadness that wasn’t enough to change what was happening. “i thought i could keep things separate. that it wouldn’t change anything between us.” he paused, letting out a shaky breath. “but it did.”

you swallowed hard, the words you had prepared for this moment now stuck in your throat. “you fell for her, didn’t you?” you said, the bitterness in your voice more evident than you wanted it to be.

franco’s silence was all the confirmation you needed.

a small, dry laugh escaped you as you wiped your eyes, the tears threatening to spill. “i knew it would happen,” you whispered, the ache in your chest growing with each passing second. “i knew you’d choose her. you always had to. it was never about us, was it? it was about the image, the brand, the plan.”

“no, it wasn’t like that,” franco said quickly, his voice desperate as he reached for your hand, but you pulled away. “i didn’t want this. i thought i could just go along with it, make it through for the sake of everything. but… it’s not just a plan anymore. i care about her.”

the words felt like they were suffocating you. “i tried to pretend i was fine with it,” you said bitterly. “i convinced myself i was okay with the idea of this being temporary, that it would all go back to normal. but hearing you say it out loud… hearing you admit it… it makes it real. and that hurts more than i thought it would.”

he opened his mouth to say something, but you held up a hand. “don’t,” you whispered. “don’t try to explain it. i don’t need the explanation.”

“i never meant for this to happen,” he said again, his voice faltering. “you have to believe me.”

“i do,” you said, your voice quiet, the tears now falling freely. “i do believe you. but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

you stood up, your legs feeling weak beneath you, the reality of it all settling in. you had known this was coming, had prepared yourself for the moment he would look at you and admit the truth. but somehow, hearing it—hearing it from him—made it feel like a wound that had just been freshly opened, a wound that had been bleeding for far too long and was finally exposed.

“i thought i was enough for you,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him, your hands shaking as you wiped away your tears. “but i guess i was never going to be enough for what you really needed.”

franco stood up then, stepping toward you, but you shook your head, unable to meet his eyes. “don’t.” your voice cracked as you spoke. “you’ve already made your choice.”

for a long moment, neither of you moved. the weight of everything hung heavily in the room, suffocating the air around you both. finally, he took a step back, his shoulders slumping. “i’m sorry,” he said quietly. “i never wanted to hurt you.”

“i know,” you said softly, the words barely escaping your lips. “but sometimes… sometimes it’s the things we don’t want to happen the most that hurt the most when they finally do.”

and with that, you turned and walked out of the room, the door clicking shut behind you with a finality that echoed in your bones.

894 notes · View notes

tpwk-formula1 · 7 months ago

Text

Kinktober Day 1 - Hickeys - LN4

It is day one of my first Kinktober! I have been wanting to do one for years on different accounts and in different fandoms but I have finally started earlier enough to actually pump out an imagine a day!

All posts will be made at 12 PST according to the day

Lando Norris X Reader

TW - Hickeys, use of word whore, jealous sex, shower sex, unprotected sex, creampie

WC - 1400+

Y/N POV

"We're leaving," Lando said while pulling me away from the conversation I was currently having with Max.

"Lando! Stop, I'm trying to have a conversation, stop being rude," I said while pulling my arm out of his grip and trying to make my way back to Max.

"You've had enough conversation with him to last a lifetime! I've watched you giggling with Verstappen for the past 10 minutes. He cannot be that fucking funny! We are leaving now," Lando said while taking ahold of my hand and pulling me towards the exit.

Once we got outside and the loud blare of the noisy club behind us I can finally talk to Lando without having to shout.

"Lando, what the actual fuck was that?" I questioned him while we were waiting for our car to arrive from Vallet.

"I have barely seen you tonight and when I finally located you, you're practically on top of Max!" Lando replies back clearly mad about the situation.

"Lando Norris... Are you fucking kidding me right now? You're jealous of Max!" I reply back trying to hold my laugh back. Lando and I had been together since his rookie season so watching him get jealous over someone I had never once shown an interest in was quite funny.

"I'm not jealous of him, Y/N. But you don't need to all over him in a public setting like that!" Lando replies back before grabbing the keys from the young man who just returned the Porsche to the front of the club.

Once we got into the car it was fairly silent other than the noise of our breathing.

"You're ridiculous" I break the silence making Lando scuff.

"You're the ridiculous one! I don't understand how you aren't seeing the problem! You're over there flirting with my closest rival on the grid while you're in a very public relationship! You know how the media can be," Lando replies back. I just roll my eyes at how ridiculous his behavior has gotten.

"Lando you know damn well I would never even LOOK at Max like that! I have never once been interested in him, and I NEVER will be! You have never once had a problem with me being friends with the grid, do not start acting like this now because you are in a championship battle with him," I tell him while we pull into the garage of his Monaco appartment.

When I get out of the car I slam the door and make my way to the elevator trying to avoid Lando as much as possible.

The ride up to Lando's apartment was silent and awkward, both of us reflecting on the actions of the night.

When we finally get into the apartment I make my way into the bathroom before stripping down and getting in the shower knowing I need to clear my head before Lando and I can have a mature conversation.

I'm not even halfway through my shower before I hear the bathroom door open making me turn around and find Lando coming in shirtless and starting to unbutton his pants. Once he is stripped down he climbs into the shower with me.

I roll my eyes at him before turning my back towards him.

This was Lando's final straw because the next thing I know I am pushed up against the shower wall with Lando's chest pushed against my back.

"Drop the fucking attitude! I wasn't the one whoring myself out," Lando seethes out into my ear. When I don't respond to him he starts kissing behind my ear and down my neck.

Once he finds my sweet spot it leaves me gasping in shock before I feel his teeth sink into my neck and start sucking.

"Lando," I moan out. Once Lando pulls away from me I turn my head slightly to watch him observe the mark that is inevitably starting to darken on the side of my neck.

Without words, Lando takes my hips into his hands before aggressively spinning me around so we are face-to-face.

When I look into Lando's eyes I can see the lust swimming through them.

I grip onto Lando's neck pulling him down for an aggressive make-out session. It's not long before Lando is pulling back and trailing kisses down my jaw and neck again.

The feeling of Lando's teeth sinking into my warm skin has my knees growing weaker. Once Lando makes it to my tits I feel myself give out to the pleasure and if Lando wasn't holding me up I definitely would have been on my knees from the pleasure.

"Fuck," I gasp out when Lando takes my nipple between his teeth and biting down softly.

When I glance down at Lando all I see is his wet curls and little purple marks trailing down from my neck to my tits. I can't remember the last time Lando had given me a hickey let alone a whole collection of them.

"Lan please," I whine out trying to push him lower.

I get no response from Lando but he does start making his way lower down my body. All I feel is Lando continuing his trail of hickeys down my stomach leading his way to my soaked pussy.

When he finally reaches the spot I wanted him most instead of diving right in like he normally does he starts leaving hickeys all over my thighs. He has one of my legs in his hand giving him the perfect space to continue to tease me.

With the death I have on his hair I try to pull him close to my dripping core but instead, he makes his way to my other thigh but not before leaving a long lick from my dripping hole to my throbbing clit. This has me gasping for air thinking I was finally going to get what I wanted but Lando had other plans.

"Please, Lan," I whine out not knowing how much more of this teasing I can handle.

"Patience," All Lando says before starting his trail of hickeys again.

It feels like forever before I can feel Lando slowing making his way back to my soaking pussy. When he finally gets to the spot I needed him the most I let out a loud shrink when I feel Lando's teeth sinking down softly on my throbbing clit, before releasing it with his teeth and starting to suck on it.

"Fuck Lando," I moan out knowing I won't be lasting long if he continues this assault on my overly sensitive clit.

"I'm close," I moan out. This had Lando pulling away making me whine out from the loss of contact.

Lando doesn't say anything before he flips me back around so my chest is pressed against the shower wall.

It doesn't take long before I can feel Lando teasing my entrance with his hard tip. When he finally pushed in I let out a loud moan not knowing how to handle the overwhelming pleasure of being so full.

Lando starts thrusting in and out at a quick and rough pace. It doesn't take me long before I can feel my orgasm building again.

"Fucking, cum," Lando aggressively moans out making me explode all over Lando's cock.

"Fuck," I moan out feeling the early signs of overstimulation start to take course.

"Lan, fuck, please," I moan out not really knowing what I want.

"You're going to cum again," Lando grunts out making up my mind for me. I can already feel my second orgasm start to build when Lando reached around and started rubbing my clit which threw me over the edge again. This orgasm was stronger than the first leaving me shaking all over Lando's cock.

"I'm gonna cum in you," Lando whispers in my ear before I felt him slow his pace down but continue with the strong thrusts. When he finally spills into my still throbbing pussy I can feel how much cum he is pumping deep into me.

"Fuck," Lando groans out before slowly slipping out and allowing some of the cum to drip out of my pussy.

When we finally came down from our strong orgasms we finish our shower together before getting out. Lando gets out first and wraps his towel around his waist before grabbing the second towel and wrapping it around my body before helping me out.

When I finally get a good look in the mirror I can see just how much damage Lando had done to my skin. Just from my neck to chest I can see at least 8 hickeys ranging from small light purple marks to bigger deeper purple marks.

When I make eye contact with Lando in the mirror I see the smug look he is giving me.

"Well now he knows you're mine," Lando says with a small shrug before walking out of the bathroom, leaving me shaking my head at his petty jealousy.

1K notes · View notes

nyree2712 · 1 day ago

Text

Formula 1 - Incorrect Quote 170

Pierre: How the hell are you two friends?

Max and Charles: *In unison* Keep your friends close and your enemies closer

Charles: Intimately close, seduce your enemies

Max: Marry your enemies and poison the wedding cake. Boom

Charles: I'm not marrying you if you're going to bring the wedding cake into it, that's unnecessary

Max: *Solemnly* I agree I went too far, I apologise

Pierre: *Muttering* Please forget I asked

#Poor Pierre he needs a better answer #incorrect quotes #quotes #formula 1 #formula 1 incorrect quotes #formula 1 imagine #formula one #F1 2025 #f1 incorrect quotes #f1 imagine #lestappen being lestappen #lestappen incorrect quotes #lestappen #1633 #pierre gasly #max verstappen #charles leclerc

151 notes · View notes

lewisvinga · 11 months ago

Text

nurse, he’s out again | lando norris x fem! nurse! reader

summary; lando would do anything just to catch a glimpse of his girlfriend, even if it means injuring himself

fc; various girls on pinterest

warnings; cursing i think, suggestive comment

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3

note; nursing girlies rise ! ( i haven’t started nursing school yet ) ( i just finished my freshman year )

masterlist !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by landonorris, alex_albon, and others !

yourusername: the face of a man who purposely cut his nose so he can see me working 🤨🤨

tagged; landonorris

landonorris: my bad for wanting to see my girlfriend 🙄🙄

yourusername: my shift was abt to end in an hour…….

landonorris: u looked sexy in your scrubs while stitching up my nose 🤤🤤🤤🤤

alex_albon: nurse, he’s out again

georgerussell63: you need media training😀

yourusername: lando….

username: LMAOOO OOMFS WERE RIGHT

username: i get u lando norris i do😫

username: y/n my nurse icon 💆‍♀️💆‍♀️

username: the little bandaid help😭😭😭

lilymhe: stitch me up next 😼😼

yourusername: i got u bbg👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

landonorris: BUT I GET A SCOLDING??🤨🤨

yourusername: stfu u like it

landonorris: true🥴

alex_albon: ………

oscarpiastri: oh!

username: im so????

username: ijbol 🤣🤣

francisca.cgomes: the best nurse😉

yourusername: 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

landonorris: MY nurse

pierregasly: MY girlfriend ???,?

landonorris: y/n my sexy nurse🤤

georgerussell63: 🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #lando norris smau #lando norris scenarios #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine

4K notes · View notes

httpsdana · 24 days ago

Note

Hey love!

I was wondering if you could write something for Max Verstappen with a super soft, quiet little girlfriend? She’s a chunky little thing, all round and cute, with blonde hair, and she’s just very… pink. Everything about her is soft and feminine—her clothes, her nails, even the way she speaks. She’s also a little dumb (in the most adorable way possible), always getting confused about things, and Max just finds it endearing. Maybe some fluff where he’s super protective over her because people underestimate her a lot? Thank you so much!

Softer than Sakura~Max Verstappen

・❥・prompt list

・❥・motorsports masterlist

・❥・who I write for

・❥・a/n: this HAS to be my fav fic EVER. I love max sm yall don't understand. pls don't let it flop 🙏🏻🙏🏻

She was the total opposite of Max. Opposites attract, they say. Max, the serious, sarcastic Formula One champion, dating her; the short, blonde girl whose whole life was pink and ribbons.

But Max found everything about her so endearing.

The way she got confused over the smallest things, the random questions she asked out of nowhere, and mostly, the way she managed to be the most adorable person when he asked her to go to her first Grand Prix with him: to Japan.

“Well, everything is pink, and it’s all flowers and stuff there. I think you'll like it,” he said softly, his smile unwavering when she jumped up and down before climbing on him.

“Oh my god, yes! I have the perfect outfit for race day. Should I do my nails too? When are we going? Do I have time to pack?” she rambled, unable to hide her excitement, and also nervousness.

Max chuckled, putting his finger on her lips to stop her from talking.

“Don’t worry, schatje. I already booked your nail appointment. We’re leaving Tuesday morning, so you have plenty of time to pack,” he mumbled before brushing his lips over hers.

Max took his headphones off as his engineer finished telling him the new updates on the car. His eyes scanned the garage slowly until they found her.

She stood by the corner, carefully reading the schedule on the paper that was on the wall. The pink ribbon sat perfectly in her blonde hair, while her hands clutched her small bag tightly.

He smiled softly before quietly making his way to her. He sneaked his hands around her waist gently, which made her flinch for a second before relaxing in his arms.

“Maxie,” she mumbled, her eyes still fixed on the paper, her head tilting in confusion.

“Hey, baby,” his fingers brushed against her pink dress as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m confused,” she stated, turning to look up at him. “The schedule says you have media duty from ten till twelve. It’s eleven-thirty now. Are you breaking the rules?” she gasped softly, her voice lowering as if afraid someone might hear her.

Max chuckled, his heart melting at the pure confusion in her expression.

“No, darling. I finished early and had some stuff with the engineers,” he said, making her lips part as realization dawned on her.

“Let’s get you seated in the garage before qualifying,” he gently tugged her hand as he took her to the back of the garage where families and guests usually sat. He helped her up on the stool before handing her one of the big blue headphones.

“For me?” she asked, confused, making him hum.

“It can get loud, so you’ll need it,” he placed it on her neck before brushing her hair away from her face to admire her soft makeup that she always did—the one he always adored.

“But it doesn’t match my outfit,” she frowned, making him laugh with a shake of his head.

“Sweetheart, the sounds are pretty loud. You need it,” he insisted, making her frown deepen even more. He smiled before leaning down to kiss her pout away.

As soon as his lips touched hers, she quickly gasped and pulled away.

“Someone could see us,” she whispered, making him pout.

“Just one?” he asked, leaning in again. He kissed her softly, and she couldn't help but kiss him back.

When he pulled back, he hummed in satisfaction. She opened her eyes and giggled at the sight of him.

“What?” he asked, an amused smile on his lips.

“You’ve got some lip gloss on your lips,” she murmured, reaching over to wipe it off with her thumb.

“Do I look pretty?” he teased while she hummed.

“You always look pretty,” she whispered shyly, making him smile.

“Only because I have you by my side.”

“Hey, where's my girlfriend?” Max asked one of the mechanics, who he saw a while ago talking to her.

“They told her to go to your driver's room after quali. She was asking way too many questions,” he chuckled, expecting Max to laugh with him, except he didn’t. Max scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yeah? So what? This is her first race and she's still new to everything here,” he said defensively, eyes narrowing as the mechanic started squirming nervously under his intense gaze.

“I-I didn’t mean-” Max interrupted by rolling his eyes.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, already walking away to his room.

He opened the door gently, peeking his head into the room slowly. He saw her sitting there, his plushie, which she had bought him, tucked under her chin while she scrolled through her phone silently.

“Hey baby,” he said softly, afraid to scare her away.

“Hi Maxie,” she mumbled, her voice a bit down and softer than usual, the usual bubbly and excited tone not evident.

His face twisted in anger, knowing that she was upset by something someone had told her.

“What did they say?” he asked calmly, but his fists clenched by his sides as he walked closer to her.

“Mhm, who?” she avoided looking into his eyes, still scrolling on her phone.

Max took the phone gently out of her hand to have her look at him. Her eyes were dull, the usual light in them faded out.

“What did they say?” he asked again, this time more gently.

“Nothing… they just said that I should come here because they can’t stand someone asking so many stupid questions,” she shrugged, but her teary eyes showed how much she was affected.

“Oh darling,” he murmured, pulling her into a hug as he sat next to her. He tucked her head under his chin, securing it by holding the back of her head. His other hand soothed her back, mumbling sweet nothings into her ear to help her calm down.

After a while, her body relaxed more and she let out a sigh into his neck.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her arms tightening around his torso.

“Don’t be, schatje. They’re assholes who don’t deserve to listen to anything you say. If you have anything to ask, I’ll gladly answer you, even if it was the silliest question,” he said, pulling her head back to look at her.

“I love you,” he held her gaze, his fingers threading through her blonde strands as he spoke.

“I love you more, Maxie,” she said, her smile finally finding its way back to her face.

He held her more in his arms, watching some TikToks with her on her phone, ignoring the fact that he had already skipped two interviews.

She pulled away then, making him look at her, confused.

“So... what does DRS mean?” she asked sheepishly, making him chuckle.

“I’ll tell you everything. Just let me hold you some more, sweetheart.”

my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty @n0vazsq @joaosnovia @ilovebarcaaaa @f1lover55 @jajajhaahaha @universefcb @mariejuli (lmk if you want to be added!!)

617 notes · View notes