#formula one reader insert | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rex-rambles · 5 days ago

Text

➤ PROUD | MAX VERSTAPPEN

pairing: max verstappen x wife! reader, kimi antonelli + max + reader (platonic)

summary: kimi gets his first podium, max finds you crying in a bathroom, and you both realize you want to start a family together

wc: 2.6 k

warnings: none! a few innuendos on max's part

➤ MASTERLIST

You had been married to Max long enough to recognize when his focus shifted. When he stopped paying attention to useless questions, when a car caught his eye, when he heard someone saying something wrong about anything, really. It was the subtlest of changes, the softest of looks, but you saw the way he turned, just slightly, when the TV in the motorhome played a clip of the rookies, talking about pressure and the reality of F1.

He watched from the corner of his eye, his notes still in hand, so that anyone who might walk by would think he was deeply focused, and not distracted by a simple broadcast. You, however, know better.

You push off the counter of the small coffee bar, coming to take the hat from his head, and rake your hand through his hair instead.

He smiles slightly at the action, letting his attention break to look up at you. "Do you think they miss their mums?" You ask, eyes finding the broadcast. Max would've been about their age when he started, so young, so full of dreams. You weren't that much older than them really, but it was still enough to be daunting.

Being 18, like Kimi, was the time of little independent steps, going away to university, starting something new. Becoming a world-famous F1 driver when you're not even old enough to drink in some countries had to be quite the trip. "What?" Max responds, now turning to give the TV his full attention. "The rookies?"

"They just look so young." Doing all this, on their own. They might have teams and managers and fellow drivers, but it had to be terrifying. "It's got to be hard, away from family like that. And on Father's Day, too."

"I didn't miss my parents," Max says, returning to the notes in his lap as he lies. He can never look at you when he does. You never pressed about his childhood, though all you can imagine is that poor boy, charting across Europe alone to do all of these races, with all the stress. It can't be good for children, even if they are racing prodigies. "I turned out fine."

There's a beat of silence where you don't answer, and he lets out a soft breath.

"Fine, relatively speaking." He corrects. "Besides, with all the karting and F2 or F3, they're used to travel."

"Even when they're still in school, poor things." Max glances back at the TV as the clip of Isack hugging Lewis's dad plays, and your heart dislodges in your chest. That's a lot of pressure, something that never goes away with F1, or at least you've never seen it leave Max. He was becoming a beacon for the rookies, maybe because of it. He probably knew better than anyone how to handle that sort of pressure, the lifestyle change.

Someone walks by, cutting through the moment, and you and Max just look at each other as you wait for them to leave. There was so much more to be said on this kind of topic, specifically behind closed doors, but there was more than just Max being a good mentor that played into it. Finally, the person leaves, and Max returns to his notes. "If you're worried about their education, you could help them with their homework."

"Maybe I can cook them a nice meal. You can have them over." Max laughs, then, getting up from his chair to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you close to him. The move startles you, so quick and so in public, but you lived for these stolen moments. Max was always like this when he knew no one could see. Little bursts of energy, the hidden romance that was best protected when others weren't around. You didn't mind by now, really. You'd rather your kisses be private than spread across Instagram. "What?"

"You are something else," He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Worry about me for a change, hm? Where's my home cooked meals?"

"They're a treat for when you win," You say as you press a quick kiss to his lips before finally pushing away. The last thing you needed was some photographer walking in on you two. "So go lose, yeah? Saves me from having to do the dishes."

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he prepares to go, and you're struck by a feeling you can't quite describe. It's a strange sort of love that twists in your gut, almost complete but not quite. Loving Max was always just a full-bodied feeling, that some small part of it missing was obvious. It wasn't nerves, though the butterflies still came out as he raced, as he battled for second place.

It wasn't anger, or concern, or sadness, no strange emotion you couldn't place. Instead, it just felt like you were waiting for the last piece to click into place, even if you didn't realize what it was. Max gets second, and the win doesn't really fix it either, though you're happy he placed well. He probably wasn't the most enthused at George's first, but then, as the racers settle, you realize who came in third:

Kimi.

Little Kimi, with his homework and the pressure and now, you realize as you watch the nearby Mercedes garage, without his parents.

That must be awful, you find yourself thinking as your heart sinks further into your stomach. What a race to miss, to have no one there to celebrate. The big screens catch your eye as you see Max approach Kimi, and for a moment, the world pauses as Max pulls him into a quick hug that feels like it might last forever.

That's the missing piece, you think.

Max had always been so good with kids. Whether his little nieces or nephews, or teenagers like Kimi, he had a way with them. He was patient, and funny, and kind, and welcoming. He was saying something to Kimi as your visions swims before you, a mix of emotions that truly catch you by surprise.

It's pride, and heartbreak, and knowing.

That could be your son someday. Maybe he had just done well on a test, or won a competition, you didn't care, and Max was hugging him like a father would. You turn back toward the Red Bull garage's bathroom, quick to try to calm yourself, but it's no use.

Max would make a fantastic father one day, and for the very first time, you realize that's something you can pursue.

There was something going on with you lately. Max hadn't really had too much time to notice it, with the triple headers and your work schedule, but you were just...softer. Not in a bad way, and not in a way he'd ever vocalize, but you were just so utterly irresistible and sweet. He didn't want to get out of bed, didn't want to leave your side, didn't even mind hearing you talk about ridiculous things like rookies being lonely and the best parks near his apartment.

But there was something brewing under the surface, and he didn't really know what.

Then again, he also just got 2nd place, and you're not at the barrier to greet him, so he doesn't really have time to focus on that either. He chalks it up to the crowds crushing in to get to George and Kimi, both for George's first win of the season and Kimi's first podium, both of whom refuse to stop smiling, especially once they get to the podium platform. Even from up above, however, Max can't seem to spot you. He can always find you in a crowd, a skill he prides himself on.

You were wearing one of his hats, and a cute little white dress, so it should be easy, but you're not with his team, not with the crowd.

Nowhere.

Finally, when he gets back to his driver's room, and it's empty, does he start to worry. "Have you seen-" He barely gets the word out before one of his attendants is gesturing towards the restroom with a strange expression, and Max panics at the thought of you being sick, of something being wrong, and he quickly knocks on the door. "Love? You okay?"

"Shit, Max-" Your voice sounds hoarse and Max's heart breaks at the thought of you being sick while he was out celebrating, but when you open the door just a crack, he realizes it's something else entirely. "Sorry, sorry, I'm a mess."

You let him into the restroom, a small space considering it's just a little side room, but that sort of invasion of each other's space had never bothered either of you. What does bother him is the tear-tracks on your cheeks, the way you laugh sadly as you try to wipe away the evidence. "What's wrong?"

You crying is not the most uncommon sight in the world, but the last time you cried at one of his races was because he won his fourth championship title. Maybe you were crying over how poorly he was doing? Maybe something terrible happened? "The video-"

"What video?" Max rushes out, coming to cup your face in his hands. "I swear, if anyone said anything-"

"You hugged," You say with another soft laugh, now truly confusing him. Max tries to wrack his brain for the last time he hugged a woman that might be taken as him cheating, and then what it might take for you to have a mental break. "And his dad wasn't there."

"What?" Then, the pieces click into place. "Kimi?" You nod, sniffing softly as you wipe at your nose with a tissue. "You're crying...because I hugged Kimi?"

"Our little baby got his first podium."

Our.

Little.

Baby.

Oh shit. "Are you pregnant?"

"What?" That seems to snap you from your tears, looking up at him before reaching out to smack his arm. "No! I can be emotional without being hormonal!"

"I wasn't saying that," He soothes, though he finds himself somewhat saddened by the answer in a way he never thought he would be. "You just called him our baby."

"He's your baby," You joke, covering your face with your hands. "He won and you hugged him, and his parents are here, and he's probably so happy I just...I can't. How could you not cry? He worked so hard!"

Max slowly wraps his arms around you and gently rocks you, unable to stop the growing smile on his face. Only you could get emotional about another man getting on the podium. You'd probably be like this for all the rookies, he thinks. He'll need to start packing more tissues. "But you didn't come to watch." I missed you, he wants to say, but right now is not about him.

"I didn't want anyone to see me like this and take it wrong." You say, muffled by his shoulder. "If I saw him in person I'd probably start bawling."

"Well, you should go congratulate him if it moved you to tears." He says, somewhat teasing, somewhat not. It was a very big thing for Kimi to finally get on the podium, and you were right. He worked hard to get here, taking third place in a way many other drivers couldn't currently.

Maybe crying over it was a bit much, but being proud? That was understandable. "Give me your sunglasses."

"Anything for you," He says, reluctantly pulling the sunglasses he'd hung on his shirt collar and handing them out to you. You walk, then, hand in hand through the garages before reaching Mercedes, which Max realizes is somewhat enemy territory, but for you, he doesn't mind. Kimi is off to the side to take pictures with some of the mechanics, all beaming ear to ear, and he hears you sniff beside him. "Hey, Kimi."

Kimi looks up with a grin, and you offer a small wave. "I just wanted to come congratulate you," You say, and Kimi immediately goes in for a hug, which somehow makes Max more emotional as he watches it.

That's the missing piece, he thinks, what he wasn't getting about the tears.

You were always so good with kids. Whether Max's own nieces or nephews, or teenagers like Kimi, you were always so good with them. Even now, Kimi sinks into your arms like you're his mother, like it was the kind of hug he needed. You already were so patient with Max, you had to be with children, so warm and honest and welcoming. Kimi could be your kid someday, maybe after having a hard day, or maybe after a good one, just needing comfort.

You would be an incredible mom someday, and as Max had said earlier, he'd do anything for you. A little baby, clad in Red Bull gear, with his hair colour and your eyes, it would be perfect.

Anything you make would be perfect. "I'm so proud." You say as you pull back. "Your parents must be so proud! Third! You're first podium!"

"You're going to make me cry," Kimi sniffs, and Max watches your bottom lip tremble. "No, no, don't cry too!"

"Alright, alright." Max wraps his arm around you, pulling you into his side. "Both of you."

"Emotions are meant to be felt!" You say stubbornly, a reminder Max has had to hear plenty of times. You had never made him feel guilty when he got angry, never made him feel like he couldn't be sad. It was the sort of thing a parent should have said to him as a kid, the sort of thing that would make you a fantastic parent now.

"You know what they call you?" Kimi says, more to Max than you. "Mother Hen. Now you are Mother and Father Hen."

You tense in Max's arm, and he softly laughs. "We're adopting him." You state bluntly, looking up to Max. "Can we adopt all of them?"

"Bit late to adopt, I think." He says, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. "We'll just have to make our own."

"Hey!" Kimi says, hands flying to his ears like an actual kid as he laughs.

"You can be our babysitter," Max continues, reaching out to shake hands with the boy, who happily shakes it back. You, on the other hand, are shooting Max a rather strange look. "What? It'll be good for him to have a normal job for once."

"We can all take turns," Kimi agrees eagerly. "Ollie and I-"

You finally laugh, shaking your head as you take a step back, and Max doesn't blame you. Those boys probably got into more strange situations than Max did at that age, which is saying something. "There is no way both you and Ollie are looking after them. That is a recipe for disaster waiting to happen."

"What's a disaster waiting to happen?" George asks, and now it's Max's turn to tense. He was very good at being civil, good at hiding it too, but that didn't cut the tension in the air.

"Ollie and Kimi babysitting for us." You answer for him, head coming to lean back against Max's shoulder in an attempt to soothe him. It's the sort of admissions that would make headlines if it got out, but considering what Max was planning on tonight?

Probably wasn't too early to announce the baby.

"Babysitting?" George echoes, shocked. "Are you expecting?"

"Not currently," Max says before he can help it. "Give it about nine months."

"Max!" Your face flushes red, smacking at his arm, and he takes it as his cue to leave. "You are unbelievable!"

"Congratulations, Kimi." Max says as he leads you away, trying hard not to laugh as both Kimi and George exchange looks. "George."

You wave goodbye, turning around to look at them, and Max keeps his arm around your waist to drag you backwards. "You both did so well! You better celebrate tonight."

"I think you are celebrating enough for the both of us." Kimi answers, and George turns on him like a scandalized mother.

You laugh as you turn back around, and Max finds that he missed the sound. You crying was easily one of the things he hated most in this world, meaning your laugh is one of the things he loved the most.

Your hand slips into his, offering a squeeze. Only when you're finally out of earshot, the rest of the crews and the microphones and the eavesdroppers hidden away, do you tug harder on Max's hand, drawing his attention. "Do you mean that? About starting a family?"

"Like I said, anything for you." Then, after a beat, "We're not naming our kid Kimi."

"I know," You answer, leaning up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "I was thinking George."

a/n: KIMI PODIUM! didn't realize i was a kimi fan until i genuinely got emotional at seeing him come third.

#➤ rex works #➤ mv1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fluff #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fluff #f1 imagines #reader insert #dad max verstappen #f1 fanfic

1K notes · View notes

no-144444 · 2 months ago

Text

the oscars- o.piastri

꩜ summary: you bring your own oscar to the oscar's!

꩜ pairing: married! oscar piastri x actress! fem! reader

꩜ a/n: just realised i never posted this and it has been sitting in my drafts for over a month and a half ish lol

I want you to come with me.

Those words had run through his head like a fucking jack-hammer for weeks. What did that even entail? Acquiring a tux, sure. He could do that. Learn all the names of the people he could potentially meet, any celebrities or old co-stars he’d probably met but didn’t remember. Again, he could do that. Sit beside you all night and let you be your wonderful self as he got a first class seat and bragging rights about the fact that he was yours, he did that all day everyday.

So why did this feel so different? He’d been to award shows before. Not the award show, but motorsports ones. You’d come as his date. The world knew about you two. He’d gone to the BAFTAs with you one year. He should be fine. He knows he’s just there to hold your hand all night and make sure you don’t forget to eat something, but this just feels… different. This was the Oscars. The one night all of Hollywood steps out in their very best, hoping to get something back. And you were nominated in 3 categories.

“Fix your bowtie,” Hattie fussed over him as he rolled his eyes. You’d even invited his whole family. You weren’t super close with yours and they hadn’t really supported your career, but the Piastri’s had. Nicole went to every premiere you offered her, sometimes flying last minute just to be there to support you. He remembered how touched you’d been when she showed up at your Cannes debut, you called him crying that night, not even knowing what to do with yourself because you thought it was just so nice. You were 14 then, but you were 24 now, and you weren’t just his girlfriend, you were his wife. You were officially part of the family, even though you had been from the moment he’d brought you home. He started playing with his ring, a nervous habit he’d picked up since getting married.

“It is fixed,” he snapped back as she fiddled with it. “Mum said it looked fine-”

“I wasn’t looking at you when I said that!” she called from the other room. Oscar rolled his eyes again.

“Your eyes are on swivels today,” Mae teased, looking up from her phone. Oscar fought back rolling them again, and instead went for a scoff.

“I’m the only reason you guys are even coming,” he scoffed, Hattie still fixing his tie. Mae’s jaw dropped in offence.

She gasped. “Excuse you! I think Y/n would still invite us even if you guys got a divorce.”

A shiver went up his spine at that thought. Leaving you? He couldn’t do it. He knew in his bones he’d adore you until he was old and grey, and probably a while after that too.

“She definitely would,” Eddie added, walking in. “Plus, she’s dressed now, if you want to see her.”

Oscar tried to pull away from Hattie, but he just got choked by his bowtie, resulting in a fit of coughs and a gaggle of laughter from his sisters.

He heard a chuckle he knew all too well and he turned his head. You were radiant. A burgundy formal gown, your hair exactly the way you loved it, and that wonderful look in your eyes. The one he saw when he woke up next to you. The one that made him blush no matter how long you’d been together. “You alright there?” you questioned.

He chuckled and Hattie finally finished with his bowtie, so he turned to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips to yours as he lifted you off the ground- just slightly. You grinned against his lips and he felt the panic that had been building completely subside. You pulled back as your feet reached the ground again, and chuckled. “Do I have lipstick?” he asked, a question he asked most days. You nodded, but Mae got up to take a photo, giggling at her brother with you. It didn’t bother him. You finally just wiped it off and smiled at him.

“What do you think?” you asked, pulling back and giving him a spin. You showed off the low back and he knew he’d be ripping this dress off of you tonight. He swore the breath was knocked from his lungs every time you looked at him, but truly, you were breathtaking.

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the entire world,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Oh yeah?” you smirked. He nodded.

“Oh yeah.”

The Red Carpet was as overwhelming as usual, but he enjoyed watching his sisters interact with the few fans of theirs that were there. He watched you with so much love and pride in his eyes, so much so that Tim had to nudge him to remember to walk on and not just stand in the back of your photos looking at you lovingly. When you finally finished up, you grabbed his hand as he led you into the auditorium.

“You still have my speeches?’ you questioned. He tapped his chest, signalling that it was in his breast pocket. You smiled. “Thank you.”

“Always,” he smiled back. “Forever.”

As soon as your moment began, it ended, because Nicole pulled you away to go talk to people and he fucked off to the dinner table. He watched as you worked the room, animatedly speaking to people as he watched on from his seat at the table, thoroughly enjoying his food.

It was his dad who pulled him out of his daze, asking how he was feeling.

“I’m fine,” he nodded, only slightly lying.

Chris smiled. “She’s going to win ‘em, I bet you.”

“She will,” Oscar nodded. “Her work has been incredible this year.”

“You’re telling me,” he chuckled. “I cried for three days over the Outrun.”

Oscar laughed out loud as his dad shook his head. “I know what you mean.”

Just then, Oscar caught your eye from the other side of the ballroom and you smiled at him, waving. He waved back. You were a vision in burgundy. He swore to go he was going to get heart palpitations from how beautiful you were.

“Starting soon now,” Tim clapped his hands on Oscar’s shoulders. “Better be ready with those acceptance speeches.”

Chris smiled at Tim. “Took the words out of my mouth,” he chuckled. “Also have to practice your shocked face. Even though we all know she’s going to win every single one of them,” Chris tapped his leg. “Like how she pretends to be shocked when you win.”

Oscar laughed, his cheeks going red. Why was he being embarrassed by his own father and step-father at the Oscars right now? He wanted you back, you could always calm them down, make them less… whatever they were.

“Busy?” you asked, coming up to the table, your question directed at him. He stood up immediately.

“Not at all,” he shook his head, the boys behind him chuckling like schoolgirls. He took your hand and you led him to the foot of the stage, squeezing his hand.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you whispered, leaning to his shoulder. “Thank you for coming.”

“I'm so proud of you,” he smiled, his hand sneaking around your waist to pull you closer. He loved this. These quiet moments between all the hustle and bustle of your own lives. The room melted away behind you as you both stared at the stage you hoped you’d end up on tonight, but he knew you would. “I’ll always come.”

You chuckled. “You said cum.”

He rolled his eyes, the soft moment between the two of you, now abruptly over due to his choice of words. He looked down at you and you laughed at his unimpressed stare. “I love you?” you offered, cupping his cheek.

“I guess I love you too,” he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours gently, but quickly- as to not get lipstick all over his mouth.

“And the nominees are; Anora, written by Sean Baker. The Brutalist, written by Brady Corbet, Mona Fastvold. A Real Pain, written by Jesse Eisenberg. , September 5, written by Moritz Binder, Tim Fehlbaum; co-written by Alex David. The Substance, written by Y/n Y/l/n,” the crowd cheered and he felt your hand squeeze his just a little tighter. “And the winner is… Anora, written by Sean Baker!”

Despite the loss, you stood and clapped for him. Oscar joined you, though he thought you should’ve probably won. You both sat back down as his speech began and he took your hand again. “You alright?”

You nodded beside him, your eyes fixed to Sean and his speech. “There’s still like 4 hours left, don’t worry.”

He chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to your hand. Ever the positive person.

“And the nominees are; Anora, Sean Baker. The Brutalist, David Jancso. Conclave, Nick Emerson. The Outrun, Y/n Y/l/n. Wicked, Myron Kerstein,” you tensed beside him. “And the winner is… Y/n Y/l/n, The Outrun!”

And the room stood for you. He felt like he was in slow motion. You both stood up at the same time, a bright smile on your face (he was sure he looked ridiculous), and you turned to him and you hugged him.

“Holy shit,” you whispered. He smiled back, nodding.

“You fucking did it,” he cheered as he pulled the speech out of his pocket. “Go accept it.”

You nodded and started your descent down the stairs. The entirety of Hollywood was on their feet for you. You’d been working in the industry since you were a kid. Everyone knew how wonderful you were. Only he got to see it everyday. He watched, pride practically spilling from every pore as you stood up on that stage, taking the award in your hand, the sheet of paper in your hand. You looked up, a teary smile on your lips. “Wow,” you breathed out, looking at the room, but your eyes immediately met Oscar’s, and you both smiled again. “Hello, and thank you,” you started. “Umm… alright, speech- yes!” you unfolded the piece of paper in your hand and took a deep breath. “Well… first of all, I’d like to thank the academy, because this-” you held up your award. “Is incredible. And next, I’d like to thank my family. Nicole, Tim, Chris, Hattie, Eddie, Mae,” Oscar was already tearing up, and he was sure his mom was at the floodgates stage of it all. “You’ve been so incredibly kind to me over the past decade. You took me in when I was just a random 14 year old your son or brother was dating, and you gave me a family, and I'll always be grateful. Next, I’d like to thank my husband-” he felt a tear fall down his cheek and he knew there were about twenty cameras on him. There were a few cheers from the crowd. “- Oscar, you’ve made me insanely happy, and you’re my everything. But you’re also the only person I’ll ever let in my editing room. I love how curious you were at the start, and now, how effortlessly you help me. Truly, this is half yours-” you chuckled, and so did he. “No matter what. Whether you were coming in from a race weekend, totally exhausted, or just come back from a run, you’ll sit beside me in silence and help me make it all work. I don’t think you understand how much that means to me, so, thank you. I love you all, thank you!” you finished off, just wiping the small tear that had fallen away, as the crowd rose for you again. Oscar was a goner, tears falling freely as he tried to wipe them away. God, you were too kind. He adored you.

The night ended at 3am, you walked away with two Oscar awards, and one Oscar. He was grinning the whole time, too. Couldn’t stop. You won Best Editing and Best Supporting Actress. His family were elated and you giggled on the way back tot he hotel as you watched videos of them react to you winning, since they weren't sitting beside you.

Both you and Oscar were exhausted, so you fell into bed, immediately tangling with each other and knocking out.

He ran a hand through your hair as he lazily closed his eyes. "Y/n?"

You hummed against his skin, sign enough that you were slightly conscious.

"I adore you," he whispered, the silence of the room seeming even quieter in the dark. You looked up at him through tired eyes, a soft smile on your lips.

"I feel it," you smiled. "And I love you too."

Best night ever.

mclaren masterlist

navigation for my blog :)

2K notes · View notes

formula1andbeyond · 3 months ago

Text

Favourite colour - Carlos Sainz Jr

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x PiastriSister!reader

Summary: You are Oscar Piastri’s older sister, who decided to wear blue to a race. Carlos Sainz accidentally mistakes you for a Williams crew member. Hilarity ensues.

Wordcount: Smau (aka no idea)

Warnings: None, I think? It's just fluff

A/N: Just as I finished this, half of it disappeared. So idk if the plot makes sense now. I tried to fix it, but couldn't remember everything so (I cried. Smau's takes way to much time)... If your name really is Katherine… use your imagination please hahaha. Also, I know there are more Piastri sisters, but I only use Hattie because I am lazy. Timeline? Don’t know her. Don’t think about it hahaha

...

Liked by NicolePiastri, OscarPiastri and others

Y/nPiastri: Outfit so good, Carlos Sainz though he was my boss🕶️

View more comments

User738: GIRL🤤

User43: Slay mama

User76: So, let me get this straight, Carlos thought you were someone who works at Williams racing, just because you’re wearing blue…? (Liked by Y/nPiastri)

Y/nPiastri: @/user76 he claims we look alike🙄

Lilymhe: This is hilarious🤣🤣🤣

HattiePiastri: Mom is too busy laughing to comment

NicolePiastri: I am not. You look beautiful honey, but that shirt... Carlos is excused.

User34: Not Nicole Piastri favouring Carlos over her oldest child hahahah

NicolePiastri: @/user34 I am a Carlos Sainz fan first, mother second🤭

...

Liked by CarlosSainz, NicolePiastri and others

OscarPiastri: Happy birthday to my amazing sister, Katherine. You’re a mess. Love you❤️

view more comments

Y/nPiastri: Shut up, i hate you.

Y/nPiastri: No, im sorry. I dont hate you. Thank you little brother❤️ Love you too🥰

User334: OMG Carlos liked this hahahaha

HattiePiastri: Happy birthday queen! 🥳🥳🥳

User34: Not Carlos in the likes!

User29: I thought her name was y/n???

User99: Oh, my sweet summers child hahahaha

User56: Fumbled so hard he had to stalk her brothers insta.

CarlosSainz: Williams blue is a good look🧢

User3: CARLOS! I AM GAGGED

HattiePiastri: This feels inapropriate...

Y/nPiastri: I just happen to LIKE BLUEEE😭😭😭

...

Liked by Mclaren, HattiePiastri and others

Y/nPiastri: Making sure no one thinks I work for them this time📙🥕🧡

view more comments

User19: A MAN?!?!?

lilyzneimer: Beautiful🧡🧡🧡

HattiePiastri: So just so we agree, I will be borrowing that Hermes bag🥰

Y/nPiastri: In your god damn diggity daggity dreams little child🔪 HattiePiastri: So what I'm hearing is a maybe...?

CarlosSainz: You look better in blue🫐

user500: Horny on main I see...👀 user45: MR SAINZ!😂

User58: Don't think you can hide him away in the last photo. Who is the guy?????🔍

User30: WIld idea, but what if that is Carlos? That would be such a hilarious turn around🤔

User38: @/user30 I like your delulu User77: No, but she might have a point. He's been commenting on all posts about her. And he's always in the likes... User30: OMG I'm not alone in my delulu!!!

…

...

Liked by user49, user284 and others

F1updates: Carlos Sainz was spotted on a walk in Barcelona hand in hand with Oscar Piastri's older sister, Y/n!🤯🤯🤯

view more comments

User1: THIS IS GOLD

User94: What is thiiiiisssss

User301: Did not see this coming🤔

User48: They are so stunning😍😍😍

User795: She is wearing THAT shirt!!!👕

...

Liked by CarlosSainz, NicolePiastri and others

Y/nPiastri: Hard to say no when blue is my favourite colour💙

view more comments

CarlosSainz: It really is your colour🦋

Lilymhe: Alex claims he figured it out weeks ago

Y/nPiastri: Girl, I didn't even know weeks ago hahaha

HattiePiastri: I knew you couldn't afford that hermes bag on your own😶🕵️‍♀️

NicolePiastri: Best day of my life❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Lilyznimer: Congrats you two! Oscar is slowly loosing his mind looking at this

User355: Nicole Piastri must be loosing her marbles!!!

NicolePiastri: Haven't stopped crying since she told me

User94: GOALS🥅🏁

user89: This is the old money blueprint

User30: The most stunning couple😍

...

BONUS:

Liked by CarlosSainz, OscarPiastri and others

Y/nPiastri: Finally got to meet Katherine from Williams Marketing!

view more comments

HattiePiastri: Oh, I think Carlos might be excused...🔍

NicolePiastri: Didn't know I had yet another daughter...

User16: This is actually hilarious

User55: Now I feel bad for making fun of Carlos

Lando: What do you mean. This is the same person???🥸

CarlosSainz: I can tell the difference now, mi amor💙

OscarPiastri: You can? Because I'm actually struggling

Y/nPiastri: OSCAR DON'T RUIN THE MOMENT

2K notes · View notes

bunny-jpeg · 3 months ago

Text

not second best

max verstappen

tags: smut/pwp, redbull driver!reader, teammates au, jealousy, possessiveness, missionary, dirty talk, rough sex

"if you could be teammates with anyone else, who would it be?"

you stood in front of the camera and thought on it for a moment before you answered, "oh, easy! i'd choose charles! i'd say we're pretty close and i'm hopeful this year is the year we wins... but he'd have to beat me first!" then winked at the camera with your hands on your hips.

your teammate, max, was behind the camera and his ears were burning. he knew the question was a joke, but he didn't want to see his favourite teammate be on the same team with his most loathed rival.

in the hotel room, max's hand lingered across your back a little more as he guided you away from your hotel room and towards his. his nose brushed against your neck, taking in your scent before he went to open the door.

when he got the door closed behind you two, his hands were on you once more. his lips at your neck and between kisses he asked, "you'd pick, charles, huh?"

you squeaked, "they said pick someone else." you looked into max's eyes, "we're already teammates." and your eyes went a little wide as he pressed himself further against you. you two have had sex before, it was no secret - with the amount of time you spent together it was inevitable.

"could have picked anyone else." he said lowly as he rubbed up against you further and touched your chest, "you know how i feel about him. how he gets under my skin. i wouldn't want anyone to be on the same team as you. you're mine."

you knew his reaction was overbearing, but you knew that max deeply cared for you. he yearned for you deeply. the thump of his heart was in time with how much he adored you, needed you. so the idea of charles taking you away from him only poked at something in his brain.

you gasped when he bit into the skin of your neck, you knew it would bruise. but something curled in your gut as you felt the a certain lust wash over you.

"you're red bull or nothing." he said lowly, "by my side, or off the track." he said as he started to play with the front of your jeans, "i don't want charles to get the wrong idea, so tonight. i'm going to make sure you firmly remember who you belong to." he placed another kiss on your neck before you ended up in the bedroom and on the bed.

you could have said no, you could have stood your ground and had him slink away with his tail between his legs. but there was something about the domineering max that just made you wet. the looked in his eye, cold, commanding. he looked like the villain that everyone thought of him as.

you took off your branded t-shirt and you felt his gaze linger on your breasts. he licked his lips and you got your bra off, slowly your jeans came off too along with the rest of your under garments. socks throw in two different directions and your panties on the other side of the bed. max was quicker to get undressed before he got on top of you in bed. he pushed you up against the pillows and gazed down at you.

his cock was fully erect. you knew he got off to submitting you under him. he told you once that he liked when you posed a challenge on the track because that meant he could fuck you harder. a real champion can take anything, he told you once when he had you in a headlock and bullied your poor pussy.

"look at you." he said as he hiked your hips up closer to him, "see, this is what no other driver can have. you're just so sweet on the track, you're their little star. but you need someone to actually keep you safe. and charles would never do that." max said lowly and rubbed the tip of his cock up against you, "too trusting. you should only be trusting me."

you swallowed, "please, max." you held onto the pillows under your head and you lifted your hips a little to give him better access to your cunt. you were wet and max knew it. he loved that he carried that bit of control over you, easily making you soaked between your legs.

he remembered after a rough practice he spent what felt like half an hour rubbing your cunt through your driver's suit and he knew that you raced the next round with stickiness between your legs. risky move, but max had to plant those seeds early.

that after formula one, you wouldn't become an engineer or a reporter, or whatever else ex-drivers seemed to do. no, you'd be max's wife. and hopefully married after after that season ended.

he looked at you and licked his lips. you met his gaze as he sank his cock into you. you arched your back a little and he relaxed against you. and so did you. he planted his hands on either side of you, he leaned in to kiss you on the lips as you wrapped your legs around him.

"look at you." he said.

you shifted yourself on the bed a little and reached for him. your arms wrapped around his neck. you held on while he moved against you. pleasure moved through both of you. you loved the feeling, even with max's harsh words, you still felt affection for him. both as a teammate and a lover.

"i'm always looking out for you." he said, he drank in the sight of your face, "i want you well, i want you safe. and i want you as mine." his strokes started to move faster, he felt a slight fire in his gut from the feeling of his cock buried inside of you slick pussy.

you were on birth control, but still it was a risk to take you this way. to have him bare inside of you. but, it eased his jealousy just a little bit to know that he was the only man to ever take you this bare. to take you as his, all his.

"please, max. it feels so good." you encouraged him as you held on tighter, the pleasure was growing in your core as he rutted against you. there was something about how his cock moved inside of you that hit all the right areas that made your eyes roll a little out of pleasure.

"you don't know what you do to me." he said lowly, "i don't want you to ever think about having another teammate ever again. i want you to only need me by your side. matching cars, matching uniforms." matching last names.

he continued to thrust into you, he held onto the bedding a little tighter and felt the sweat at his brow. it was hot between you two. the movements of him against you only had you holding onto you tighter.

"max. fuck."

"i know, it feels good. you love how you feel under me. do you like being my teammate?"

you nodded and your nails nipped at the back of his neck as you held on, you swallowed before you said, "i love being your teammate, max. you know that!"

"do you want another teammate? want another man to fuck you the way i do?"

you shook your head, "never. never in a million years. i want us to win the constructor's this year!" you arched your back a little when his cock nudged against just the right spot that made you feel tingly all over. he laid another heated kiss on your lips and continued to fuck you quickly and roughly.

the headboard slammed against the wall from the force that he was fucking with you. you whined into the kiss and he held onto your hips tightly, you were pinned under him while he fucked you. he felt your body quake under him, the feeling of heat under your skin. you were the sparks in his brain and the fuel in his blood.

fucking you was the same intensity as driving. except he could let his mind grow hazy with each powerful thrust. to know you'd never want another meant the world to him, to know that you were all his. you moaned against his lips and clawed down his strong back.

you didn't last much longer. you broke the kiss and made a strong yet whiny noise as you came around his cock. you arched your back and squeezed your eyes shut as you climaxed. it only spurred him on, it made his heart hammer along with yours. the pleasure flooded your head and after you reached your peak, you let go of him and let him have his wicked way with you.

"beautiful." max said as he continued to fuck you strong thrusts. he left himself feel all of you, every inch of you felt warm under him. you were sweaty and hot. he licked his lips and the pleasure throbbed in his body.

"please, max. i'm sorry that i made that comment. i knew i couldn't pick you." you whined.

max kissed at your neck, "next time, pick someone else. alex, george, even carlos. just not charles, i won't let that sweet talker take you from me." you could feel the possessiveness in his tone.

he knew he was close, with a few more heavy thrusts he finished inside of you. he groaned under his breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead. your cunt fluttered around him and he drank in the feeling. you felt amazing, warm all over and so soft. he knew he had to have you always.

"perfect." he cooed before he pulled out and laid out next to you in bed. he cupped your face with his large hand. those large hands on your soft skin. he leaned in, "tell me again."

you opened your eyes and asked, "tell you what?"

"that you don't want charles."

you shook your head, "i don't want charles. only you, max." and you curled up closer to him. his touches were more gentle, the jealous beast in him calmed down. for now.

"if you could be teammates with anyone else, who would it be?"

you thought about it for a moment, the reminder of last time tickled in your gut. but quickly you looked back to the camera and said, "i'd have to pick, lando! he got really close to the wdc last year, but if we were teammates he'd have a little more competition."

and you knew behind the camera, max verstappen was seething. <3

1K notes · View notes

fanfictionismyaddiction · 3 months ago

Text

Trophy Boyfriend

Word count: 450

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando Norris fully embraces his role as Y/n L/n’s devoted trophy boyfriend, happily standing in the background while she steals the spotlight.

________________________________________________________

Lando Norris had a lot of titles to his name—Formula 1 driver, McLaren’s golden boy, future world champion (hopefully). But none of them mattered quite as much as the one he held now: Y/n L/n’s boyfriend.

It was a role he took very seriously. Not because he was the main character in this relationship—he wasn’t, not even a little. Y/n was the main event, the superstar, the reason photographers nearly toppled over themselves trying to snap pictures when they walked into a room together.

She was everything. And he was just… well, Lando.

He didn’t mind.

“I love this dress,” he said, watching Y/n twirl in front of the mirror. It was something sleek, designer, probably gifted by a brand that wanted her to post about it.

“You think so?” she mused, adjusting the straps.

“I think,” Lando said, sliding his hands around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder, “that every single person at this event is going to wish they were me.”

Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“No, I’m right.” He grinned. “I’m literally dating you. Do you know how crazy that is?”

She turned in his arms, smoothing a hand through his curls. “I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”

“I mean, look at you,” he continued dramatically. “Gorgeous. Talented. Everyone loves you. And then there’s me—your little trophy boyfriend.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Little?”

“Well, figuratively.” He leaned in closer, voice dropping. “Not literally.”

She smacked his chest, but he could see the way her lips curled up. “Behave.”

“Never,” he murmured, stealing a quick kiss before she could stop him.

The gala was exactly what Lando expected—Y/n’s show, and he was just happy to be a part of it.

People flocked to her the second they arrived, showering her with compliments, gushing over her latest projects, asking for pictures. Lando, in the meantime, sipped his drink and stood a little off to the side, perfectly content to let her shine.

Occasionally, she would reach back for him, lacing their fingers together like a silent reminder: You’re still my favorite person here.

He liked that.

At some point, a well-meaning (but oblivious) businessman clapped Lando on the back and said, “Must be nice, huh? Being with someone like Y/n.”

Lando just grinned. “Mate, I wake up every day and wonder how I pulled it off.”

It was true. He had no delusions about who the star was in this relationship. Y/n walked into a room and owned it, and Lando? He was just happy to be the guy holding her purse when she needed both hands to take a picture.

And honestly? Best gig ever.

1K notes · View notes

mauvecherie-writes · 2 months ago

Text

𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐩, 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 — 𝐥. 𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐨𝐧

— rating: 18+ NSFW, explicit.

— summary: Lewis just couldn’t wait to get back home to his woman.

— warning: very little plot, minor angst, talks of feelings, fluff, sexually explicit, slight handjob, fingering, oral!f receiving, unprotected penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, rough handling: hair pulling, slight spanking, choking, minor dirty talk, minor aftercare. NOT EDITED

w.c: 5.0K

— ru’s 💌: am i back? am i not? time will tell 🤭 please enjoy! like, reblog and comment <3

He couldn’t stop his leg from shaking as the plane continued to descend.

“Since when have you been nervous about flying?” The voice of his father it through the noise of the podcast Lewis was listening to. He moved his headphone away from his ear and turned to his Dad with a soft smile playing on his face.

“I’m not nervous because of flying, Dad. I’m just anxious to see my girl.” Lewis confessed. Anthony chuckled – his smile spread and filled his whole face.

“She’s your girl now? When did that happen?”

“YN’s been my woman from the moment you introduced us. Things have been going really good between us. I just haven’t asked her officially.”

“Why haven’t you?” Lewis sighed at the question, rubbing his forehead as he thought of an answer. The both of you had never really discussed about the boundaries of your relationship, things just fell into place. In the beginning, things were meant to be strictly casual – whenever either of you where in town or whoever could fly out. However, as things progressed over the months, the both of you found yourselves dropping everyone else and exploring things exclusively without thinking too much about it.

However, there was something about this weekend, being away from you, had left an ache in his heart when he thought of you. When you’d spoken to him, telling him that you missed him in that soft, little voice of yours, - you took the last pieces of his heart and made him yours, completely.

“It’s been on my mind lately. I just think it’s time to make it serious. I don’t want her thinking that I’m wasting her time when I know she’s the one.”

“Alright, son. As long as you do what needs to be done. The next I see her; she better be my daughter-in-law.”

“I’ll do my best.” Lewis chuckled.

The plane landed and he separated from his parents and rode the town car towards your address. Originally, he would have met you at his home, but it was getting renovated to extend the closet to include more space for you. When it came to fashion, the both of you were competing but you had the leg up due to your vintage bag and shoe collection. One of the many things that he loved about you.

In his hand, he only had his essential hand luggage and a bouquet of your favourite flowers. The rest of his bags would be delivered tomorrow as for what he had planned, there was no need for clothing.

With his spare key, Lewis opened the door to your townhouse and the immediate aroma of spices hit the senses of his nose. It brought a small smile to his face and the sense of welcome. He was home.

“Sweetheart! Roscoe!” He called out and the response he received was an excited squeal and an enthusiastic bark. The patter of nails on hardwood floor and soft thudding of bare feet on the wooden floor got heavier, the closer they came towards him and around the corner. You were ahead of the aging dog, in your barest form of beauty, dressed in just a white, camisole top and an old pair of his shorts. Not caring about what was in his hands, you dove into his arms and wrapped your limbs around his body. The speed in which you came at him almost knocked him out, but he quickly recovered.

“Woah!” Lewis lightly let out a laugh as he manoeuvred the flowers into his other hand and then secured his free arm around your waist as you snuggled your face into his neck and held onto him tightly. Without words, your hug conveyed how much you missed him and God, did he miss you too. Having you in his arms completed him in a way that he had never felt before.

“I missed you too, baby.” He whispered into your ear. He walked away from the door and with Roscoe following until Lewis settled on the couch with you still in his arms. You leaned back and took him in.

“Look at you.” You mumbled as you knocked his cap away from his head and freed his curls from their cage. He had been letting his curls loose lately and you swore your attraction to him increased tenfold. Your fingertips massaged the sides of his temples and his eyes fluttered close, and a lazy smile drew on his face.

“I missed you so much.” Lewis stated again which made you giggle.

“I missed you more even though we FaceTimed every day for these past two weeks.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same as having you right in front of me, sitting on my lap.” His hands came to your waist and settled there. “Nothing compares to this moment.” He added as he drew soft, circular patterns on the sides of your hips.

“Oh yeah?” You questioned, your eyebrow quirking up as you tried to contain your glee.

“Yes, baby. Now gimme a kiss, we’ve been apart for too long.” You didn’t need telling twice as you leaned down and captured his lips as you cradled his face into your palms. He hummed softly as your lips touched and the tingling feeling of your fingers rubbing on his beard. Lewis smiled was your mouth’s entangled in a slow dance of passion. Lovers, reuniting and quenching their thirst – drinking the lust your bodies desperately seeked. Lewis’s hand came to the back of your neck and pulled you closer as the kiss deepened.

Your core began to dampen, and you could feel him hardening beneath you and for a moment, as you drowned in his consumption, a disgruntled bark broke the haze. You turned your kisses to the underside of his jawline and to his neck as Lewis finally gave Roscoe some of his attention.

“Sorry my boy. I just had to great Mummy first.” He said just before Roscoe jumped onto the couch with some effort and then forced his way in between your bodies causing the both of you to laugh. “Alright boy. You have my attention.” You got up from his lap and placed one more kiss on his forehead and scratched behind Roscoe’s ears.

“Go freshen up, I’ll finish getting dinner ready.

Half an hour later, Lewis returned to the living room feeling livelier, changed into another pair of grey sweatpants and nothing more but the rainbow pearls around his neck along with a customised diamond encrusted cuban link chain that you bought him for his birthday. He kept his curls loose, a bit more damp from moisturising them. You licked your lips as you drank in his form. Witnessing his muscles and taut body move across the living room, relaxed and little sluggish. His freshly detailed tattoos, glistening from the shea body oil you know that he took from your side of the vanity table.

As you prepared a plate for him, you began to think to yourself that if you had told yourself a year ago that you would be fixing a plate for a man and becoming a mother to an aging dog who took your heart, you would have laughed at yourself. But here you were, doing exactly that. Tony Morrison was turning in her grave.

You silently watched as Lewis prepared Roscoe for bed, getting him more comfortable.

“Baby, come eat.”

“What did you make?” Lewis asked as he stood to his full height and approached you by the kitchen island.

“Shredded tofu tacos with pico de gallo with triple cooked chips. I made buffalo cauliflower too but that depends on whether you finish these tacos or not.”

“Everything sounds so good.” Lewis unconsciously licked his lips as you placed the food down in front of him. “Your cooking is always good.”

You sat beside him as you watched him eat and be happily fulfilled. Your hand came to the nape of his neck, playing with the tiny trestles of curls that laid there as he ate each of tacos on his plate.

“You should have been a chef.” Lewis groaned as he cleared everything that was on his plate, including the small bowl of buffalo cauliflower that he asked for.

“Why do people love saying that to me just because I can cook?” You giggled.

“Because all of that elbow work you put in could open a very successful, generational restaurant.”

“Fuck off.” You playfully dismissed him as you shoved his shoulder. With his plate clear, you took it away from him. As you stood by the sink, he couldn’t help but admire everything about your being. Before he met you and in the beginning days of your relationship – the hyper independent side of you would have never been doing everything that you were doing now but Lewis took great pride in the fact that you only did this for him.

The owner of your own accounting firm – one of the few forensic accountants in the city. Because of your niche, you were one of a kind and you were the best in the game. Your father and Anthony were tennis buddies, and you had a shared a few games with the man. Anthony introducing you to his son changed your lives.

“How’s the firm?” Lewis asked as he drank his water.

“Good… We finally aced the TSB contract.” You announced which caused his face to break out into a wide grin before he pulled you into his arms as he placed kisses all over your face.

“I knew you would get it! Congratulations sweetheart.”

“Thank you!” You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck and softly pecked his lips, the laughter never stopping as he kept coming back for more kisses. His fingers caressed your back as he held you close.

“Joining the baller’s club huh.” You rolled your eyes at his playful comments. As much you were making in the upper six figures – it was nothing compared to your wealthy lover. His generous gifts certainly helped.

“Let me actually fulfil part of my contract first. They could easily change their minds.”

“Then come to a race weekend. It’s more than just entertainment; it’s also a really good place to network with people on an international scale.”

“Look at you being supportive and shit. Am I also getting a hint of something else?” You raised an eyebrow and looked down at him inquisitively.

“I know you’ve been to a couple of races but this time I want you there as my VIP guest.” Lewis nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders as he absentmindedly drew patterns on your exposed skin.

“What race?”

“Which ever race that you can fit into your schedule. I know you’re a busy woman.”

“I’ll see what I can do for you, Mr Hamilton.” You whispered as you leaned down and captured his lips. He hummed softly into your mouth as your tongue leisurely caressed his, taking over his senses as you began to consume his every thought. Lewis could feel himself hardening against you as you pressed against him and all of his feelings that had been building up over the past few weeks that had mounted over.

“Take me out.” He suggested, mumbling onto your lips as he broke away. Your eyes darkened with lust, licking your lips – savouring his taste.

“Just like that?” You whispered.

“Just like that.” Lewis confirmed with his voice in a lowly tone as he moved to his feet and glided his hands away from your hips to your ass and groped it. Shifting your positions, your back was then pressed into the kitchen island edge as he crowded your space. Your hands slid into his sweatpants, and you pulled him out just as he asked.

Lewis sighed softly as your warm hand covered his tip, and you began to tug. His hand came to the back of your neck and pulled your lips towards his. With each stroke of your hand, you could feel him getting harder and harder. His pre-cum coated your palm, making your pulls more fluid, turning him on even more than he already was.

And you? Your essence was beginning to collect in between your thighs. You gasped into the heated kiss as he suddenly lifted your body into his arms, and you secured your legs around his waist. You moaned into his mouth as you felt his length against your warm centre.

Once in the bedroom, you began to strip at the clothing that was suffocating you. Lewis gently laid you down on the bed and pulled the shorts down the length of your legs. The he did the same, discarding the sweatpants and standing in between your legs.

Looking down at you, parting your thighs softly until he could see your cunt. Your core was dripping, your clit blooming and swollen. It never took much to get you wet like this, but it was only something that he could do to you.

“So fucking pretty.” He mumbled, more to himself than you but his comment made you smile, nonetheless.

“You always say that.” You responded as you parted your legs further as he hovered above you.

“Because it’s true. Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, and it’s all mine.” He said before he crashed his lips into yours, craving your taste more than he’d ever before. With his tongue parting your lips as he deepened the kiss, he pushed two fingers inside of you.

“Uuhhh.” You whimpered as your tongues collided hungrily. It was like the pit of your stomach was collapsing within itself at how good his fingers felt inside of you. Your walls were so snug and tight around his fingers.

“You’re soaking me already, baby.” He mumbled, his teeth latching onto your bottom lip and lightly tugging.

“Mmm.” You whimpered yet again and wrapped your hand around his wrist as he pushed his fingers deeper into your pussy. The both of you followed a rhythm, the pace increasing as your hips lifted off the bed as your breaths became heavier. Your braids had fallen out of their bun and using his free hand, Lewis loosened the rest and tugged at them, forcing you to meet his eyes. Chest to chest, the chain around his neck brushing against your breast as his hair tickled your cheeks as the curls created a curtain around your face. Complete tunnel vision on him as he made you feel good with his fingers.

Lewis watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he curled his fingers and hooked them on your spot. The sound of your name leaving your lips was so sweet and it made his dick throb even harder. He pulled his fingers out of you, causing you to pout. He quickly changed that expression when he pushed those fingers into your mouth.

You eagerly sucked on the digits, your tongue making sure not to mis any drop – sucking on them just like you would his dick. He smirked as he watched desire drive your actions. With his fingers pushing on your gag reflex. Lewis shifted his body so that he was at eye level with your pussy. The back of your thighs was on his shoulders as his mouth watered at the sight of your lower lips. He unconsciously licked his lips as your arousal trickled out of you.

The sweetest nectar of forbidden fruit.

“Hold your legs for me, sweetheart.” Lewis instructed and you followed his command. Not wasting anymore time, he spread your use open and swiped his tongue from your asshole to your cunt and back. Soft mewls left your mouth as you squirmed beneath his hold. His hands held you down by the back of your thighs as he completely devoured you. He circled your clit with his tongue, dipping the tip in and out of your cunt -making a mess.

“Oh god!” You cried our as your legs tried to close around his head.

“Just me baby.” Lewis chuckled. “It’s me taking care of this sweet ass pussy.”

“Yeess!” You cried as your hand planted themselves in his thick curls and tugged. Urging him for more and Lewis wasted no time giving it to you. As he feasted on your clit, he dipped his finger back into your core. The combination of his tongue and his fingers had your walls tightening around his digits and and he could feel your orgasm on the rise.

“Let me have it. I need it baby.”

“Lew- shit!” You hissed, crying out in pleasure as your juices began to leak out of you.

“Give me more! C’mon!” He urged you. You body seized as your climax took hold, and he desperately lapped your juices until your body stopped trembling.

One of the many things that you loved about Lewis was that he treated sex like an art form. He always took his time learning your body, accepting every reaction that you gave hi, pushing him to stroke you, harder and faster past your limits.

“Goddamn, so fucking beautiful.” Lewis whispered as he placed a kiss on the inside of each thigh and trailed up the length of your body. He hungrily claimed your lips, kissing you with a passionate force that provoked whimpers out of you. Your essence coating his lips, making sure that you know how good you taste.

“I need you inside of me.” You whispered against his mouth as your hand found its way between your bodies and wrapped around his dick.

“Put it in for me, baby.” He mumbled as he lifted your leg and placed it over his shoulder as the other, he held down with his hand as you slowly pushed him into you. Your eyes immediately closed your pussy fit around him like a glove. Made just for him, that’s how good it felt. Nothing and no one compared to this moment.

And you loved it every time.

“Every time.” He sighed as he buried himself deeper into you. Your hand came to his chin and tugged him closer by his bear. You pecked his lips before you pushed your thumb into his mouth. The tingles that shot through you due to the suction made your pussy clench round him.

“Fuck me like you hate me.” You whispered against his mouth.

“Oh, I will. I just needed a minute to appreciate how you feel.” Your eyes slowly peopled open and locked in with his lust filled ones. Lewis crowded your space as he began to move in and out of you.

Nails dug into his skin as your mouth hung open as his every thrust rattled your body. Lewis’s brows furrowed as he enjoyed the fee of your walls rhythmically pulsating around him. Your warmth, your tightness, your wetness – all for him to experience.

No one else.

“Oh my god!” You gasped. Through your glazed eyes, you saw him smirk down at you. He began to circle his hips, driving deeper into your tunnel but keeping the same pace.

“Right there?”

“Yess – Oh fuck! Yes!” Your eyes crossed as you threw your head back. Lewis leaned down and sucked on your exposed neck as he pressed the tip of his dick against the ceiling of your cunt. The sounds you were making were even foreign to you; your toes curled above his head as the knot in the pit of your stomach clenched.

“Fuck, baby. You always feel so good.” He trapped his bottom lip with his teeth and looked where your bodies joined. The wetter and tighter you got, the more he sped up until a ring of your cream collected at the base of his dick.

“Lewis!” You cried out his name.

“I know baby, I know. Give it to me.” He mumbled as he leaned down and placed kisses along your jawline. “Come on this dick, YN.”

Your words got stuck in your throat as you arched into his chest.

“I want you to look, sweetheart.” Lewis said. “Look at how I fuck this sweet pussy, and you cream all over me.”

“Baabbyy.” The nickname came out as a whimper as you dipped your head down and looked as his dick nestled deep inside and pull out, over and over. Your cream was covering his length and catching on his trimmed pubes. Without thinking, you reached down and with your finger, collected your essence and brought your fingers to his mouth. Lewis groaned as your cum touched his tastebuds.

The look of pure hunger in his eyes was your trigger. Tingles shot up your spine and took over you. “OH FUUU-.” The words were lost in a silent scream as your orgasm erupted. Lewis moaned aloud as you felt his release flood your walls which intensified your climax. You dropped your legs to his waist and wrapped your arms around him after he was spent.

He collapsed on top of you and took deep breaths to gather yourselves even though he was pressing on your chest. Lewis then patted the side of your thigh, and you moved your limbs away from his body. You softly sighed with a pout as he pulled out of you and disappeared into the en-suite.

You climbed towards the headboard and laid down onto your stomach with your eyes closed. You felt the bed dip beside you, then the warm dampness of a cloth on the inside of your thighs. A hum left you as you enjoyed the tenderness of his touch as he cleaned you up and left chaste kisses where his fingers gripped your skin.

“Thank you, my love.” Your voice came out airy and soft. The way you sound when you are tired.

“You’re not falling asleep on me, are you?”

“Not a chance. You have much to make up for.”

Lewis chuckled. “I do, don’t I?”

“You were only gone for two weeks but why did I miss you so much this time?”

“Because before I left, we had an unfinished conversation.”

You turned around onto your back, the jiggling flesh of your breast bouncing with the movement. The sight of that had his dick standing to attention. By the little smirk on your face, you knew what he had referring to.

“You have been my unexpected surprise. Coming at a moment I had sworn no distractions.”

“Am I a distraction to you, Mr Hamilton?” You asked as you leaned forward onto your elbows, and it brought your face closer to his.

“No, you’re not sweetheart. You’re everything I didn’t expect to be blessed with and more.”

“I like that answer.” You closed the gap between you and pecked his lips.

“I like you.” He murmured as he kissed you back, holding onto your Ips for longer. Your hand came to cup his cheek.

“I like you too.” With one last peck, you moved away from the bed. You don’t know why but the sudden urge to run took hold and you swiftly moved to the closet as the beating of your heart was loud in your ears. You had known that this conversation was coming. It had been lingering over your heads for more than enough time now and yet, a part of you was still not ready to face it. You had already given so much into this relationship and what scared you the most was how … easy it was to do. Lewis pulled out parts of you that had been dormant and you hated how it made you love him even more for it.

To be confronted with his feelings too. To know that he reciprocated what you gave and then-some was overwhelming.

“You avoiding me sweetheart?” You heard him speak from behind you as you turned your attention your jewellery vanity.

“Babe…”

“No, no. You are avoiding me.”

“I’m not. I’m just trying to get my emotions in control.” You confessed as you stayed facing the dresser, sorting out your jewellery, trying to keep your fingers busy.

“Talk to me then.” His voice sounded closer than before, but you didn’t feel his warmth.

“You have no idea how badly I want this.” You whispered your admission. “And for so long, it felt like admitting it out loud was a fool’s dream.”

“Did you think I didn’t want the same thing as you?” He asked.

“It’s not that I didn’t but I was weary because I know that this is a trying time in your career and you’re so focused on reclaiming what was stolen from you and you’re such a narrow minded visionary when it comes to your goals and as much as I can feel that you want this – you are right in saying I might be a distraction.” You nervously chewed on your bottom lip as your fears spilled out. You still weren’t looking at him, but you felt his arms circling your waist and his face buried in the crook of you neck.

“It would be foolish of me to say you’re wrong. You’re right, I do want to get back to the top of my game and I’m doing everything in my power to make sure that I do. And despite saying all of that, the way I feel about you YN far surpasses that. We were meant to find each other when we did. You are here to remind me that there are things that don’t wait for the right moment. I would be a fucking idiot if I let you go and ask you to wait when I can experience what we have now and grow in love together.”

You were quiet as you let his words wash over you and settle within your heart. “You really mean that?” You asked, your voice soft but full of hope. Your bodies swayed side to side as laid kisses on your neck and up to the back of your ear.

“I do. I want this for as long as you want me, but I don’t want to do this with anyone else, and I don’t want to.” His touch melted you as he explored your curves, enticing your senses, and you could feel his hardness beginning to press against your ass. Your body felt like it was vibrating from how much it craved him.

“Lewis.” You mumbled his name as he bent your body forward until you were pressed over the vanity table. The bite of the wood against your chest did not compare to the sizzling touch of his fingers in between your thighs, spreading your wetness around. Your body just called to hi and he always knew how to answer.

“Ssshhh, I know just what you need, sweetheart.” He spoke as he parted your legs even further and slipped right back into you. You braced yourself by holding onto the vanity’s edge as he delivered long and deep strokes.

“Oh my!” You gasped as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. His thrusts rattled your body over and over until your legs were trembling beneath you. The way that he was controlling your body, you knew that there would be no-one else that would ever come close.

Your orgasm quickly rose, jumbling your thoughts and only leaving Lewis. Your hand behind and pressed against his abs.

“Move your fucking hand!” He hissed through his gritted teeth as he pushed himself deeper into you. “You told me to fuck you like I hated you and I am.” You could hear the teasing in his voice. Then he wrapped your braids around his wrist and pulled until your back was deeply arched. The new angle had you gasping for air and standing on your tiptoes as you braced yourself.

The slapping of his pelvis against your ass, your mingled heavy breathing, and the quivering of your cunt around his dick was pleasurably overwhelming.

Tell me you’re mine, YN.”

“I – I, oh GOD!” You screamed as your eyes closed with tears lining your lashes.

“Fucking tell me!” He taunted with a heavy slap on your ass cheeks.

“Yes! Yes! I’m yours!” You moaned out loud. Using your braids, he pulled you up to his chest and placed your right knee onto the vanity table. His left hand came to your jaw and other came in between your thighs and rubbed on your clit in rhythm with his thrusts.

Lewis licked his lips as he watched the pleasure completely take over your face. He held onto your jaw and the pressure forced you to open your eyes and meet his gaze.

“You promise?” His words soft and light as if his dick wasn’t hammering on your sensitive spot. You nodded your head as your eyes crossed as you clawed at the hand applying pressure on your throat. Your moans turned to soft but heavy whimpers as your walls tightly clenched around his dick, causing Lewis to hiss against your cheek.

He pounded you faster and faster until both you and the vanity were rattling. You held on tightly as your climax peaked and Lewis held onto you tightly as he coated your walls, his hoarse moans sweetly ringing in your ears. He rutted into you until he was spent.

The smell of your sex and the sound of your breathing were your only companion until you opened your eyes and the first thing you spotted was the crack on the side of the vanity mirror. You couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped.

“What?” Lewis questioned as he untangled himself from you and turned you around until you were facing him.

“We broke the vanity.” You said as you played with his chains. His eyes moved past your head to the crack. He smiled as he turned back to you until his lips met yours and pulled you into a passionate kiss.

“You won’t need this one anymore. I bought you a bigger and sturdier one for the new closet in Knightsbridge.” The lack of hesitation in his statement brought finality to what this was.

“This is it huh?” You smiled as he picked you up in his arms and headed towards the shower.

“This is it. You’re the only one for me, YN.” He smiled as you ran your hands through his now sweat damp curls. You hugged him tighter. Yeah, this was it for you too.

—————————

reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @iamquiantrelle @cocobutterqwueen @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @laneywrld @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew @henneseyhoe @jessnotwiththemess @alianovnaromanovanatalia @leilaxaliel @hotfudgeslug @iamryanl @pickingupmymercedes @eleetalks @ambs-06 @annisassintchaska @boujiestpoet @nayaesworld @nat-lh-44 @mochachocolatteyaya @melaninpov @kindan3rdy951 @elyseesarchive @sl33p-deprived-princess @soiguessimtheshit @acidlv @trinitoldyouso @gwenda-fav

825 notes · View notes

dreamauri · 3 months ago

Note

If reqs are open we get some more Oscar one shots?? just binged them all lmao 🙏🏻🙏🏻

♪ — 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗛 𝗪𝗔𝗟𝗞 oscar piastri x girlfriend! reader ( fluff ) fic summary . . . Oscar Piastri might seem like a stoic Kimi R reincarnation but really, he's a sweetheart who carries you so you don't sand in your shoes (549 words)

( main naster list | more of oscar piastri ) ( requests )

The sky is painted in soft shades of pink and orange, the kind of sunset that makes everything feel a little bit dreamlike. The waves roll onto the shore in a lazy rhythm, brushing against the sand with a whisper. It’s the kind of evening that begs for long walks and quiet confessions, but instead, you find yourself cradled in Oscar’s arms, held securely against his chest.

“You know, I could walk,” you point out, but you make no effort to move.

Oscar glances down at you, his expression neutral but his grip tightening just the slightest bit. “You didn’t want sand in your shoes.”

You huff, both amused and endeared. “That was, like, ten minutes ago. I didn’t think you’d actually carry me the whole time.”

He shrugs, adjusting his hold effortlessly. “Not a big deal.”

But it is, in the way that matters. In the way he does things for you without a second thought, never making a fuss about it. You rest your head against his shoulder, inhaling the faint scent of salt and sunscreen clinging to his skin. The gentle rise and fall of his breathing is as steady as the waves.

Eventually, he slows to a stop, setting you down carefully on a patch of sand untouched by the tide. His hands linger for a fraction of a second before he lets go. “Better?”

You nod, slipping off your shoes and wiggling your toes into the cool, damp sand. “Much.”

He watches you for a moment, his lips barely twitching in what might be the ghost of a smile, then extends his hand. You take it without hesitation, fingers fitting perfectly between his as you step toward the water’s edge.

The tide kisses your ankles, cool and refreshing. You hum in contentment, swinging your intertwined hands slightly as you start talking—about anything and everything. About how the sunset reminds you of a painting you once saw, about the funniest thing that happened at work last week, about how you read somewhere that seagulls mate for life and isn’t that kind of sweet?

Oscar doesn’t say much, but he listens. He always listens. His thumb moves idly over the back of your hand, grounding you in the moment. Every now and then, he hums in acknowledgment or squeezes your fingers lightly, little signs that he’s with you, that he’s absorbing every word.

After a while, you stop, tilting your head up to look at him. The golden light of the sunset softens his features, his brown eyes reflecting the sky’s fading hues. “You’re quiet.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I usually am.”

You roll your eyes, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. “Yeah, but…what are you thinking about?”

He’s silent for a beat, then, with that same quiet certainty that defines him, he says, “You talk a lot.”

You open your mouth, ready to protest, but he beats you to it, his fingers tightening around yours. “I like it.”

The words are simple, but they settle warm in your chest, spreading through you like the tide coming in. You smile, squeezing his hand in return. “Good. Because I’m not stopping.”

“Didn’t think you would.”

And so you keep talking, and he keeps listening, walking side by side as the ocean sways in time with your laughter.

766 notes · View notes

theonottsbxtch · 7 months ago

Text

MISS YOU BABY | MV1

an: i need a hug from max verstappen stat, based off this request! thank you for sending it :)

summary: max thought his girlfriend was missing his final race during his triple header, little did he know she'd planned to come and visit all along.

wc 3.6k

The hotel room she was in was quiet.

She sat cross-legged on the bed in a dark hotel room that mirrored his, only three floors below, making sure he couldn’t see her surroundings. Her phone was propped up against a pillow, and Max’s face filled the screen, his hair still damp from the shower, tousled and messy. He looked worn-out but managed a small, tired smile just for her.

"I’m sorry, Max. I really tried to get time off, but there was just… no way," she said, the fib slipping from her lips with surprising ease. "I wanted to be there with you. Especially now."

Max exhaled, leaning back against his headboard. “I know. It’s alright.” His voice softened. “I just miss you, is all. It’s been a rough couple of weeks.”

She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek, wishing she could reach through the screen and wrap her arms around him. "You’ll get through it, though. You always do."

"Doesn’t feel that way." He laughed, but it was brittle around the edges. “I feel like I’m letting everyone down. The team, the fans… you.” His eyes searched the screen, as if he might find a solution hidden somewhere in her gaze.

"Never me." She leaned closer, her face so near to the camera that she could see her reflection in his eyes. "I’m so proud of you, Max. Always. No matter what."

For a moment, he just looked at her, his expression softening, and the tension she’d seen in his face for days seemed to melt, just a little. "I wish you were here," he murmured. "I swear, you’re the only thing that keeps me sane sometimes."

She swallowed, feeling her heart pull toward him with a force that was hard to resist. "Soon, I’ll be back with you. Just… hold on a bit longer, okay?”

She gazed at his face on the screen, her heart swelling as she watched the way his eyes softened every time he looked at her. She knew he was tired and worn down, but in this moment, he looked at peace.

"I love you, Max," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

He closed his eyes, letting the words wash over him, and when he opened them again, there was a warmth there that seemed to cut through the miles between them. "I love you, too," he replied, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "More than you know."

She tucked her hair behind her ear, feeling her cheeks flush, and nodded. "Get some sleep, alright? Big day tomorrow."

He grinned. "Yeah, yeah. You, too. Dream about me, okay?"

She laughed, rolling her eyes, but her heart skipped all the same. "Always. Goodnight, Max."

"Goodnight, love."

With a final smile, she ended the call, letting the screen go dark as she leaned back into the pillows, her heart fluttering with anticipation. She’d hardly been able to sleep on the plane ride here, and she could already tell tonight would be the same.

Still, the thought of finally seeing him in person tomorrow kept her too giddy to care. She’d surprise him at the track, slipping through the garage just as he arrived, or maybe even at breakfast if she could manage it without spoiling the surprise. Her mind spun with ideas, each more elaborate than the last, but all she really wanted was to see his face light up when he realised she was there.

Pulling the covers up to her chin, she let her eyes drift closed, replaying the moment over and over in her mind, savouring the thought of his reaction. She loved him fiercely, and she knew that being here—no matter how much of a secret she’d had to make it—was exactly where she was supposed to be.

As she finally began to drift off, her last thought was simple but bright, shining like a promise: Tomorrow, he’ll know.

And while she was glad she held onto the secret.

The following morning she wished she’d told him earlier.

She woke to the faint glow of her phone on the nightstand, her morning alarm. Blinking herself awake, she squinted at the screen and saw Max’s name, followed by the time—5:02 a.m.

Heading to the track early today. Miss you already, wish you were here.

She smiled, feeling that familiar warmth spreading through her chest. But then her heart sank a little. She’d been hoping to catch him in the hotel this morning, maybe surprise him over breakfast. Now, with him already gone, she'd have to adjust her plans.

Throwing back the covers, she got up and went to the window. Rain streaked down the glass in thick, heavy drops, and the sky was a murky grey. The weather was only supposed to get worse throughout the day; she knew that’d make things complicated, especially for an outdoor track. She had no clue if her surprise would even be worth the stress of navigating the drenched, crowded paddock.

After a moment’s hesitation, she tapped her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she reached the name she wanted. She dialled, and after a few rings, Max’s assistant, Sophie, picked up.

“Hey!” Sophie greeted, sounding pleasantly surprised. “What’s up? Did you make it in?”

“Yes, I’m here!” she whispered, unable to contain her excitement. “I wanted to surprise him before he heads out on track, but with this rain… do you think I should even bother?”

Sophie sighed sympathetically. “Honestly, it’s a mess out here. They’re saying the rain’s going to be even heavier by the time qualifying starts. He’ll be in back-to-back meetings until then, and I’d hate for you to sit in the rain, just to get a few minutes with him.”

She nodded, glancing out the window at the sheets of rain. “So you think I should wait?”

“I’d say hold off until right before the race,” Sophie replied. “He’ll have a short break, and I think he’d love the surprise then. Plus, everyone’s less frantic between qualifying and race prep.”

“Good point,” she agreed, a little disappointed but knowing Sophie was right. The track on a rainy race day was chaos, and if she could avoid it until the right moment, she’d have a better chance of actually spending time with him. “Thanks, Sophie. Let me know if anything changes?”

“Will do! He’ll be so happy to see you,” Sophie said warmly. “Hang tight, okay?”

As she hung up, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement, knowing the surprise would be even more perfect with the wait. So she ordered herself a coffee, sat by the window, and watched the rain pour down, imagining the look on Max’s face when he’d finally see her just before the most important race of the weekend.

The rain hadn’t let up by the time she arrived at the track, the skies dark and moody, the air thick with humidity. She’d navigated her way through security and weaving lines of drenched fans, her heart racing as she got closer to Max’s garage. But by the time she finally made it, he was already in the car, helmet on, visor down, his focus entirely on the track ahead.

Her heart sank a little as she scanned the bustling garage, hoping for some last chance to catch his eye. But he was already strapped in, a crew member leaning in to give him a final check before he rolled out. She spotted Sophie in the corner, scribbling something down on a clipboard, and made her way over to her.

“Hey,” she whispered, feeling the dampness of the rain still clinging to her hair and clothes. “I… I just missed him, didn’t I?”

Sophie looked up and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, he was swamped the moment he got here. They barely had time to get him settled with all the delays.” She gestured to the grid display above them, where Max’s name glowed beside the stark “P17” position. “Rough start, but he’ll be glad to know you’re here.”

She nodded, feeling a pang as she glanced at his car just as it rumbled to life. His fingers flexed on the steering wheel, even from a distance she could see the tension there. She let out a breath, feeling a swell of pride and worry all at once. “Well, I’ll be here watching, then.”

Sophie handed her a headset, which she slipped on just in time to hear his engineer’s voice crackle through with the first instructions as they prepared for the start. The rain was relentless, turning the track into a slick, treacherous maze, and she felt her stomach twist as the cars peeled out onto the track for the formation lap. Max’s car trailed near the back, but she knew he’d fight, as he always did, with a ferocity she both admired and feared in moments like this.

The race began, a chaotic blur of spray and metal, the cars kicking up rooster tails of water, visibility nearly zero as they fought for position. She gripped the edge of her seat as the laps ticked by, heart pounding with every close call. It quickly became clear that the conditions were only worsening, drivers struggling to keep their cars on track, a few even skidding off into barriers with loud, bone-jarring crashes. Her hands tightened around the headset as Max navigate his way forward, battling his way to P10, then P6.

And then, just when the tension seemed to reach its peak, there was a deafening crash, followed by a sudden hush as the red flag went up, halting the race.

Her breath caught in her throat. The screen above replayed the incident—a skidding into the barrier that had caused an emergency stop. The seconds felt like hours as she waited, desperately searching for a glimpse of his car on the feed. Finally, there it was, intact, safe. Relief flooded her, and she felt her shoulders sag.

The race restarted after the delay, and she watched in awe as Max took advantage of the reshuffled positions and tire changes, surging forward with a newfound intensity. Lap by lap, he clawed his way through the field, passing car after car with a precision that made her heart race. It was as if he’d transformed, harnessing every ounce of his frustration from the last few races, channelling it into something extraordinary.

The garage erupted in cheers as he moved into P3, then P1. She stared at the screen, hardly daring to blink, her heart racing as he crossed the finish line in first place, drenched in rain and glory.

She could hardly believe it. From P17 to P1. He’d done it.

Forgetting herself, she laughed, a sound of pure joy, her heart swelling as she watched him slow down, the victory finally sinking in. She couldn't wait to see his face when he finally realised she was here, to be the first person he’d see when he stepped out of that car, soaked and grinning, finally at the top.

Ripping her headset off, she followed the crew as they ran out to parc fermé, her heart racing as fast as the roar of the crowd. The team, buzzing with excitement, parted slightly as she joined them, nudging her to the front so she’d be the first face he saw. She could barely breathe as she caught sight of Max’s car, now still, the rain glistening on its blue-and-red bodywork.

With all the force he had he climbed out, pulling off his helmet to reveal damp, messy hair and a face lit up with exhilaration and disbelief. For a moment, he simply stood there, taking in the shouts of the crowd and the blinding flashes of cameras. And then, his gaze landed on her.

His eyes widened, his exhaustion and surprise giving way to pure joy. Without hesitation, he broke into a run, crossing the slick tarmac with the kind of speed and determination that made her heart leap. She barely had a second to react before he wrapped her in his arms, his lips crashing against hers as he pulled her close, his hands pressed firmly against her back, as if he still couldn’t believe she was real.

“You came,” he murmured breathlessly, pulling back just enough to look at her, his face filled with awe and happiness.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” she replied, her voice trembling with emotion, brushing a wet strand of hair from his face.

He smiled, a bright, unguarded smile that melted her heart. “God, I needed this. I needed you.”

And then he kissed her again, a kiss filled with all the missed moments and the words they hadn’t been able to say, the thrill of his victory mingling with the fierce love they shared. She felt the rain soak through her clothes, the crowd and the noise around them fading as they held each other, his arms wrapping around her as if he could protect her from the rest of the world.

“I still can’t believe it,” he whispered against her lips, his forehead resting against hers, his hand gently brushing her cheek. “P1. And you’re here.”

She laughed softly, her eyes shining. “You deserve it, Max. I knew you could do it.”

He held her close, a triumphant laugh bubbling from his chest as he buried his face in her neck, and they stood there in the pouring rain, lost in each other, savouring the victory and this long-awaited moment they both knew they’d never forget.

As the noise of the cheering crew and fans started to swell around them, Max pulled back slightly, brushing his thumb across her cheek, his gaze lingering on her face as if he was trying to commit every detail to memory.

“I have to go,” he said softly, his voice tinged with regret. “The interviews, cool-down room, podium… but wait for me? I’ll meet you in my driver’s room as soon as I can.”

She nodded, understanding but already missing the warmth of his arms. “I’ll be waiting. Go,” she whispered, giving him a small smile. “Enjoy every second—you deserve it.”

He pressed one last, lingering kiss to her forehead, then turned and jogged off to join the waiting crew, helmet in hand, while she stayed rooted to her spot, watching him disappear into the crowd. Her heart swelled with pride as she trailed after the team to watch his interviews, his beaming, breathless face glowing with pride and energy as he spoke about the gruelling conditions and the unbelievable climb from P17 to P1.

Then came the cool-down room, where she watched from the sidelines as he bantered with the other drivers, sharing exhausted smiles and congratulatory claps on the back, the weight of his achievement settling in as he finally let himself relax a little. She couldn’t help but smile, feeling as though she could burst with joy just watching him, his eyes sparking with energy even as he looked ready to collapse from exhaustion.

And finally, the podium. She felt the crowd’s excitement echo through her as she looked up to see him standing tall, drenched from head to toe, a bottle of champagne in hand. When he raised it in victory, the crowd erupted, and she joined them, cheering at the top of her lungs as he sprayed champagne with abandon, laughing as he celebrated with the other drivers. His eyes swept over the crowd, and when they found hers, he gave a subtle nod, a silent promise that he’d be back with her soon.

After the podium, she made her way to his driver’s room, her heart fluttering as she paced the small space, the thrill of the day lingering in every fibre of her being. And then, finally, the door swung open, and there he was.

He looked completely worn out, his hair still damp and messy, his fireproof undersuit clinging to his skin. But his smile was bright, and his eyes lit up the moment he saw her.

Without a word, he crossed the room, pulling her into his arms, his lips finding hers in a soft, exhausted kiss. She melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as he held her close, the adrenaline and joy from his victory radiating between them.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy,” he whispered against her ear, his voice low and hoarse. “Winning today… and having you here with me. It’s everything.”

She brushed a strand of damp hair from his face, smiling as she traced her fingers along his cheek. “You did it, Max. I’m so proud of you.”

He took her hand, pressing it to his heart, his eyes never leaving hers. “None of it would mean anything without you,” he said quietly, his voice steady.

She felt her eyes sting with tears, overwhelmed by the depth of his words. “I’m here,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll always be here.”

They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world slipping away. He stroked her hair, pressing gentle kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, as if savouring each moment.

“Let’s get out of here,” he finally murmured, his voice warm and soft, “celebrate somewhere a little less chaotic.”

She laughed, nodding. “Anywhere, as long as it’s with you.”

They headed back to his hotel, hand in hand, a peaceful quiet settling over them as they left the track behind. Once in the privacy of his suite, he gave her a lingering kiss, then smiled, nodding toward the bathroom. “Give me a few minutes to wash off all the champagne and… probably half the track dust,” he said with a laugh.

She grinned, watching as he disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the suite a moment later. While he showered, she took the opportunity to pack up her things from her own room, gathering her scattered belongings quickly. The thrill of being close, of finally sharing a space for the night, filled her with a warmth that had nothing to do with the tropical heat outside.

By the time she returned, he was out of the shower, towelling off his damp hair, his expression softening as he took in the sight of her standing there with her things. Without a word, he crossed the room and took her bags from her hands, setting them by the closet as he gave her a smile that made her heart skip.

Once they’d both changed into fresh clothes—she’d opted for a simple dress, and he in casual jeans and a loose shirt—they slipped out of the hotel through a side exit, making their way to a tiny, tucked-away Brazilian restaurant that had been recommended. The place was hidden, small enough to be missed by the crowds, with soft, low lighting that created an intimate, cosy atmosphere. A few locals lingered around tables, but they paid little attention to the couple as they took a corner table in the back.

They ordered caipirinhas and he reached across the table to hold her hand, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her skin as they laughed over silly little things, shared stories from the past few weeks, and spoke of things beyond racing, beyond work, just slipping back into the easy flow they always shared. The food was rich and delicious—small plates of feijoada, grilled meats, and pão de queijo—everything flavorful and homey.

He leaned across the table, his eyes warm and filled with that familiar spark, as he watched her speak, clearly savouring every moment. “You know,” he said softly, “I think this is the best victory celebration I’ve ever had.”

She squeezed his hand, smiling back at him. “Same here. I missed just… being with you like this.”

They stayed until the restaurant closed, lingering over the last bites of dessert, letting the night stretch out as long as possible. Eventually, they headed back to the hotel, the city streets now quiet and still beneath the soft hum of streetlights.

Once back in his room, Max changed into a pair of soft pyjama bottoms, leaving his chest bare, his skin still warm from the shower. She slipped into one of his t-shirts, the fabric soft and oversized, the scent of him comforting and familiar. When she stepped out the bathroom, he was already waiting for her by the bed, his gaze softening as he took her in, a gentle smile curving on his lips.

Without a word, he reached for her, lacing his fingers through hers as he pulled her close, guiding her to the bed. She sank into the mattress beside him, and he wrapped an arm around her, drawing her against his chest, his fingertips trailing absently over her shoulder. She nestled into him, feeling his warmth seep through her, a cosy silence wrapping around them.

They lay there, tangled together, her head tucked beneath his chin as he gently traced circles on her back, his breath even and steady. He tilted her chin up, his eyes searching hers for a quiet moment before he leaned down, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss, filled with a tenderness that said everything words couldn’t. She kissed him back just as gently, savouring the intimacy of being close like this, the world beyond these walls feeling miles away.

When the kiss ended, he pressed his forehead to hers, a soft sigh escaping as he held her close, one hand settling over hers, fingers intertwined. They stayed that way, her head resting against his heartbeat, lulled by the steady rhythm.

Finally, they drifted off, still tangled in each other’s arms, wrapped up in the warmth and comfort of just being together. As the night settled around them, Max couldn’t help but smile, holding her a little closer as he slipped into sleep, his heart full and light.

Max couldn’t have wished for a better weekend.

the end.

2K notes · View notes

halsteadlover · 3 months ago

Text

𝐎𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐫

*Pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader.

• Requested by @lelaartt: Hey girl, I just got an idea for Lando… 😍 how about a fic, where he is dating reader, but keeps her identity in secret, only posting pics on ig, where is only her tattoo visible. She is always careful about hiding it while attending a race weekend, but once something goes wrong in the race for Lando and she rushes to his side in the garage making sure he is okey clearly visible the tattoo and fans get that 1+1 together. Love your work so much and this just popped in my mind.♥️♥️

• Warnings: mention of a car crash, maybe few curse words.

• Word count: 2730.

• A/N: hope you like this one! Let me know what you think and like, comment and reblog to support me ❤️ Thank you so much for your support I love you all ❤️

Lando had always been very protective of you and your relationship, ever since the very beginning, when you got together more than two years ago.

He wasn’t ashamed or anything, it wasn’t like he didn’t want the world to know about you but Lando knew the media world very well, he practically grew up in it and just the thought of you going through what he sometimes went through, made his heart tighten, so he wanted to protect you from it. He knew how mean people could be sometimes and he would be damned if he let a single negative word be said about you.

He didn’t keep you a secret though, the entire planet knew that Lando Norris was head over heels and happily in love. He didn’t make a secret of it and his Instagram page was full of photos, videos of you and the two of you together, without your face being visible.

The only thing that was visible of you were some tattoos that fans were able to identify after a video Lando once posted on his Instagram story. The fans, of course, noticed. They noticed everything. There was speculation for a long time who was the tattooed girl who had captured Lando Norris’ heart.

The weekend races were especially hard. You were always careful not to show your tattoos, to wear jackets or shirts that could cover them. But that wasn’t the really difficult part.

What Lando really hated was not having you by his side, he hated knowing you were standing among all the spectators as if you were just another person, he hated not being able to hug you, not being able to let you calm him down when his anxiety was sky-high and his stomach twisted because of it, he hated he couldn’t hear you whisper how proud you were of him, regardless of the result. The texts of encouragement you sent him—as important as they were—weren’t enough.

He needed you.

But that day, something went different.

The race seemed to be going well. Lando was at the peak of his concentration, pushing the car to its limits in an attempt to secure second place.

But everything changed in an instant.

A loud crash.

A collision.

The screens were lit up and continued to play images of the car crashing into the wall. It was violent, so violent you could see pieces of the car flying away.

Your heart stopped beating for a second and everything around you seemed to have faded. You couldn’t understand what was happening, you couldn’t process the commentators’ words, engineers and technicians who kept calling Lando’s name over the radio over and over again.

Your Lando.

You didn’t even realize the tears rolling down your cheeks as you had both hands over your mouth in shock, your eyes glued to the screen.

When you saw him emerge from the wreck that was the car, you breathed a sigh of relief and, without even thinking, you ran. You needed to hug him, you needed to hold him, to see with your own eyes that he was really okay even though you had seen him walk away on his feet.

The adrenaline drowned out everything else, your careful routine, your usual subtlety, all forgotten while you rushed to his side.

Lando was sitting on the ground while a doctor examined him, his helmet forgotten among the pebbles, when you reached him, not caring about the thousand cameras pointed at you. When you saw him, talking, breathing, conscious, you felt like you had started to live again.

He saw you and immediately moved away from the doctor and tried to get up, in an attempt to come towards you.

You threw yourself into his arms, holding him close like you had never done before, so tightly he almost couldn’t breathe. He immediately returned your hug, deeply inhaling your scent, your skin, your hair.

“I’m fine baby, I’m fine,” he whispered, caressing your hair, your back and leaving a kiss on your cheek.

Your heart skipped a beat at his voice and the tears flowed more and more incessantly. You wanted to talk, to say so many things, but you couldn’t.

You pulled away from Lando just to be able to look at him, while your trembling hands cupped his cheeks, your eyes scanned his face with meticulous attention in search of even the smallest scratch that surrounded his skin.

“Are you okay?” You whispered and Lando’s heart broke as he saw you in a valley of tears, your eyes red and shiny, your voice broken.

He smiled faintly, drying your tears with his thumbs. He pulled you to him again, leaving a sweat kiss on your forehead. “I’m fine baby, it takes much more than that to finish me off.”

“You sure? You have to go to the hospital, you have to have a CT scan or an MRI, you could have a concussion, an internal bleeding—oh my God…” you babbled frantically, panicked.

“Hey, hey, hey, shh…” Lando placed his hands on your cheeks, wiping away the tears that kept running and stopping your flow of words. “Look at me. I’m fine baby, I promise, I’ll get checked out but I’m really fine.”

You remained silent for a moment, as if trying to convince yourself of his words. “I love you so much, don’t ever do something like that again.”

He chuckled, giving you a chaste kiss on the lips. “I promise, I’ll try not to crash again.”

You stood up and helped Lando do the same before letting the doctors finish examining him. Once the fear was over, the adrenaline had subsided, you looked around and only then you realized how the cameras were pointed at you, that in that moment your face had ended up in every gossip magazine.

Social media had gone crazy, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter, they were filled with pictures after pictures of you and Lando together, collages of tattoos between you and Lando’s mystery girl had been put together, confirming how you were all along Lando Norris’ girlfriend. Articles after articles came out in no time and in a few moments your phone was exploding with notifications of messages and new followers.

Your DMs were full like they had never been in your life, messages of encouragement, some compliments on how beautiful you were and Lando couldn’t have made a better choice, other texts were less nice, with insults and unpleasant words.

Back at the garage, Lando went to see a doctor but you never left his side at his insistence. He knew what it’d be like out therefrom now on and he didn’t want to leave you alone even for a second.

Luckily he was fine, the doctor had only recommended some rest for the next week.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Don’t you want to go to the hospital?” You asked for the millionth time when the doctor left you two alone, ignoring the way your phone kept ringing in your bag. You’d deal with that later, your priority at the moment was Lando.

“I’m fine baby,” he reassured you but you didn’t believe him. You continued to look at him, caressing his face and his hair, still in disbelief of what had just happened.

“I think you should get a CT scan or an MRI or something, just to be sure,” you continued, completely serious but he laughed, pulling you close and holding you until you were almost breathless.

“I swear I’m fine my love, I just got scared. The cars are like fortresses and plus I had my helmet on, I was well protected. If I wasn’t okay I would’ve told you, I hate worrying you so much you know.” He kissed the top of your head and you sighed and then finally nodded, resigned.

“But you heard the doctor, you need to rest, so now let’s go back to the hotel.”

Lando knew there was no point in arguing about this so he hummed in agreement. At the umpteenth sound of a new notification on your phone you sighed deeply and Lando pulled away from your embrace just enough to look at you.

“Are you okay?” He nodded to your bag.

“Yeah I’m fine, I guess the secret is out,” you chuckled nervously. “I definitely didn’t want our relationship to come out like that but I don’t care, I just wanted to make sure you were really okay.”

His heart tightened at those words and he knew the mediating storm that was looming over him but, more importantly, over you. He didn’t care about himself, he was used to the media by now, but he was worried sick about you, he knew you hated being the center of attention and he hated he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“Hey,” he whispered, placing a hand on your cheek, caressing your skin with his thumb, “Everything’s going to be okay you hear me? I’m here, I’m not letting out of my sightand I won’t let anything happen to you, you trust me?”

“Of course I do baby, blindly. You know I trust you with my life,” you replied, smiling. “I love you so much.”

He kissed you. “I love you so much more.”

He had prepared you, he had warned you about all the reporters out there, how they’d be after you but the reality was totally opposite to what you had imagined.

Lando walked in front of you, his fingers tightly intertwined with yours as he led you as quickly as possible out of the paddock, your face covered by one of Lando’s hoodies even if it was all in vain—it was already plastered all over social media.

He told you to ignore them, not to answer any of their questions but it was hard when everyone was screaming your name and pushing you left and right hoping to get your attention.

“Lando here!”

“Y/n! That’s your name, right?”

“How long have you been together?”

“What do you do for a living?”

“He pays for everything for you, doesn’t he? Are you with him for the money?”

These were just some of the things the reporters were shouting and each word hurt more than the last. How could they think such a thing? How could they think you were with Lando just for money?

Suddenly your hand left Lando’s, due to the shoving of paparazzi and reporters. Panic took over you when you realized you were completely surrounded by screams, voices, blinding flashes.

Lando’s senses immediately went on alert when he no longer felt the warmth of your hand against his. He snapped his head back and a blinding rage hit him when he saw that scene: your terrified eyes as you tried to make your way through the crowd of people around you.

“Hey get out of the way!” He yelled, forcefully pushing the people in front of him to make room for himself. He didn’t care about hurting anyone or seeming rude, he just wanted to get to you. “Go away for fuck’s sake!”

A wave of relief washed over you when Lando’s familiar face returned to your peripheral vision. You threw yourself into his arms, his body shielding you, but you didn’t ignore the furious look on his face, an expression you’d rarely seen before in your life.

But when his gaze met yours, he softened, his anger almost overshadowed by worry. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you? I’m so sorry, baby.”

“I’m okay baby, please, let’s just get out of here.” You looked up at him with pleading eyes and he nodded, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pushing the paparazzi away, who showed no signs of giving up.

Once you were near the car, he opened the passenger door and quickly let you in, placing a hand on your head to keep you from accidentally hitting it.

“Oh my god,” you breathed once you were both in the car and away from the paddock. Your heart was still pounding, so fast you could hear it in your ears, your breathing still shallow as if you had run a marathon.

He took out his phone and called the hotel where you were staying, asking to let you in from a side or back entrance, as long as it was isolated since—as expected—the paparazzi and reporters had already attacked the hotel.

But why the hell were they so interested in Lando? What was so important that they wanted to know? Why did they have to be so intrusive and not have the slightest bit of confidentiality? Damn, he was a human being just like them, why was it so weird he had a girlfriend? Why did it have to be the news of the century?

“Are you okay?” “Are you feeling okay?” You and Lando asked at the same time, once you reached your room, safe and sound.

You both chuckled and you hugged him, holding him close with a little more force than usual. That day had been nothing short of hellish, between the crash, the fright, the journalists and paparazzi as excited as hyenas, and you couldn’t even think about how this was routine for him, how this was an everyday thing.

He hugged you back while you were lying in bed, kissing the top of your head. He lingered a little more than usual, breathing in deeply the scent of your hair. “I’m so sorry, it was my fault. Maybe—”

At those words you sat up abruptly, pointing a finger at him. “Listen to me carefully Lando Norris because I’m going to say it now and I’ll never say it again. It’s not your fault okay? I know what you’re thinking right now and if you even try to say a word about breaking up I’ll kill you,” he chuckle even though it didn’t reach his eyes, “I knew what I was getting into when we got together, I knew what to expect and I don’t regret a single second of it because you’re the love of my life and because being with you is worth it,” you blurted out, trying to keep a tough face even though it was hard when he looked at you with that shy and sweet smile that made your heart explode.

“I know you think all of this scared me and I am to be honest, I’m scared, but I don’t care, this won’t make me distance myself. It’s just a matter of time, you know how the media is, soon enough they’ll find another chicken to pluck and our relationship will be just a memory,” you continued to speak, “I can’t imagine how you can live this every single day and I want to be with you, I want to be by your side and support you as best I can.”

“But I chose it because of the job I do, you have nothing to do with it,” he muttered, that little smile gone and making way for a sad expression. He grabbed your hand, playing with your fingers, stroking your skin with his thumb. “Just because I live it every day I don’t want this to happen to you. Baby I love you more than anyone else in the world, I live and breathe for you only and I always promised myself I’d protect you from all this and now I feel—” he sighed, “I feel like I’ve failed.”

“I don’t care,” you repeated, “hell I’m even relieved. I was getting tired of all the hiding and secrets. I want us to openly love each other, I want to hug you, kiss you, touch you, hold your hand whenever I want and if I have a few paparazzi following me so be it. I live a pretty boring life anyway, they’ll get tired soon.”

He let out a laugh and pulled you back in, holding you tightly to his chest.

“I love you,” you grabbed his face and kissed him, “so fucking much,” you kissed him again and again and again, making him finally full smile.

“I love you so much more baby, so much I don’t even know how to deal with it sometimes,” he whispered against your lips. “So, you don’t want to leave me?”

“No,” you kissed him for the millionth time, “you’re stuck with me darling.”

He smiled in a way that took the breath away from your lungs. “Now I can finally show the world all those beautiful pictures I have of you.”

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @halstead-severide-fan, @mrspeacem1nusone, @allivs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @firetruckstuckley, @23victoria, @buckybarnessweetheart, @fanaticlove16, @ajordan2020, @multi-fandom-lover7667, @emryb, @luftmenzch, @anamiad00msday, @caroldanverwife, @bernelflo

Lando Norris tag list: @halsteadbrasil, @bwormie, @sprayberrythings, @mynameisangeloflife, @lunepoesie, @earlgreyflowers, @bubu40777168, @hiireadstuff, @lilithhs-world, @yujnrq, @bountychanti, @aurora-maria, @decafmickey, @hallo2308

Click here to be added to the tag list

Main masterlist

Lando Norris masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi

Side blog -> @halsteadloverslibrary

Ask link

616 notes · View notes

doujindungeon · 17 days ago

Text

summary: Your housewarming party with practically half the season’s lineup gets downright scorching. rating: nc-17 pairing: f!reader/12 (twelve) f1 drivers [daniel r, lando n, pierre g, lance s, carlos s, alex a, george r, esteban o, charles l, max v, fernando a, lewis h content warnings: gangbang, blowjobs, double penetration (vaginal and anal), use of aphrodisiacs if you really squint word count: 3.0k

Between the Monte Carlo summer air or this particular glass of Enchanté wine, you weren’t sure what had your body sweltering with heat.

As you had fully planned for today to host your special housewarming party, you didn’t anticipate feeling this flushed and hot of all times, of all days.

Especially when you had welcomed a majority of F1’s current drivers over to your far from humble abode–a luxurious penthouse right along the coast of Monte Carlo.

The occasion was simple but the reason was grand: in light of your ascent to team principal for Honda’s formal entry as a contender next season, you had finally taken the plunge to acquire a new home, basking in the abundant opulence that Monaco had to offer as you became neighbors with a majority of the paddock.

While you had full intention of inviting as many people out throughout your planned week of celebrations–whether engineers and other staff from your team, other key executives and leaders from the likes of Honda and the GPDA, and more–you were particularly selective on your guests for today’s housewarming party: excluding the rookies and then some, about most of the drivers for this year’s season were in attendance, including the very man who cheerfully poured and served your glass of Enchanté:

Your first seat, Daniel Ricciardo himself.

With Honda’s highly anticipated entry and with all eyes on you for being the only current female team principal, you knew you needed to make some bold and effective plays. While you were looking to utilize the promising potential within Leone Sasselli–a young, bright-eyed Swiss newcomer who excelled with top marks at Honda’s driving academy–, bringing back one of the most desired veteran drivers in the sport was among your top priority.

Though there was certainly value in the headlines that his comeback would create, you saw this ravening hunger to take to the wheel once again in his eyes when you initially met with him to discuss his desire to join the team.

And with subsequent negotiations going along smoothly without issue, you simply never caught on to the fact that the look of burning, longing desire in his gaze wasn’t reserved to only making his comeback.

From admiring the way your legs crossed as you sat across from him for his initial recruitment, how gorgeous you looked regardless of whether it was a formal press conference or an afterparty at the club, to just loving how your lips said his name while making him feel so wanted and needed back in the sport, Daniel longed and thirsted for you like nothing else.

Perhaps it was fitting that your current predicament started after drinking from the glass of wine that he handed you.

Dinner had long since been served and enjoyed, refreshments–courtesy of Daniel–free for anyone to take while basking in the elegant decor and luxurious amenities of your penthouse suite.

Aside from some help here and there by your first seat, you were playing solo as host for tonight, your body adorned in a breezy strapless summer gown as you mingled among your handsome guests. Eagerly listening in on Lewis’s and Carlos’s recent brush with Hollywood at the likes of The Met Gala and Cannes Film Festival, comparing the conversations between the chatty chaos of Alex, George and Lando to the tranquil talks of Max and Charles, taking in the tales of starring in a Netflix movie with Esteban and filming for commercials for Givenchy with Pierre, to beckoning over Lance and Fernando out forth from whichever wall they had rooted themselves against.

As for Daniel, he was making sure there was a drink in hand for everyone.

Alcohol flowed–for Lewis, a bottle of Almave was specifically prepared by your first seat–and lips loosened just before, in your case, balance tumbled.

Plus, with a brand new pair of heels that you had yet to break in, it was inevitable that you would fall forward after a drunken misstep.

Thankfully Daniel was ready to catch you, sparing you from an embarrassing plummet down to the sleek marble floor of your living room.

You parted your lips, smiling at him with inebriated reverie as you prepared to praise him as your savior.

Yet as his eyes sniped down to your chest while his hand ghosted along your hip through your dress as he steadied you up, the words he then exclaimed were nothing short of villainous.

“Boss, don’t tell me you’re already getting pay cuts in your first year that you can’t even afford a pair of bra and panties!”

You sobered up quick.

Almost shattering the glass in your hand.

And by the way that the room suddenly fell silent upon Daniel’s words, you were sure that everyone could hear the slight pressure you imposed on your cup.

Aghast, your eyes popped wide open while the heat on your cheeks deepened intensified from its drunken origins to sheer embarrassment as you squealed, “Daniel, what are you–?!”

Laughing jovially, he only proceeded to turn you around so you were facing the other drivers in the room, keeping one arm firmly around your waist while the other hand suspiciously rested upon the top of your dress.

“I’m just helping you break the ice, boss. Talking to every single guy here while I see you fidgeting with your dress, hoping for somebody to notice that you’re commando.” Letting out a sigh, he remarked, “I can’t stand seeing you pussyfoot around all night when I know what you really want.”

As a grin that stretched from ear to ear cracked on his lips, he leaned forward to leave an affectionate kiss on your cheek while he retrieved your wine glass to set it aside upon a nearby shelf. “And that’s having every single man in this room absolutely devastate your pus–”

You instantly shrieked out loud with a squirm. “Daniel!”

“I get it, I get it,” he repeated with a click of his tongue. “Can’t be a groundbreaking female icon and a greedy needy slut at the same time.” Shaking his head with disdain, he continued, “Time Magazine wouldn’t wanna cover that.”

Daniel turned his head towards one side of the room, lifting his shoulder in a half-shrug. “Lewis, back me up here, man.”

Your attention immediately followed the direction of his gaze in hopes of salvation from this situation.

Instead, Lewis merely raised his glass of Almave towards you as he sheepishly smiled. “Gonna have to unfortunately agree with him, lovely.”

The co-sign from Sir Hamilton himself in front of his fellow drivers had you feeling even more exposed and flustered than before.

If he was in agreement, then who else–

Both of Daniel’s arms proceeded to fully embrace you, shifting you from side to side as he cheerfully proclaimed, “So yeah, it’s okay that you wanna smash the glass ceiling and get smashed by almost over half the grid at the same time, it’s okay! No judgement here!” He gazed out across the living room, smiling at every man in attendance as he pointed at each and every one of them, “Ain’t that right fellas? I know you’ve been eyeing her all night–can’t hide that shit from me!”

“Daniel Joseph Ricciardo, I swear–” The hiss you let out was interrupted by a snicker from Alex.

“Full name, huh? So those rumors of you two being especially close are true then.”

You shook your head vehemently amidst some of the shared laughter among the other drivers that soon followed. “That’s not–”

Stubbled chin resting on your bare shoulder, Daniel was all smiles as he affirmed, “Damn right. And it’s for this reason that I wanna do something nice for the lady who signs my check. So without further ado…”

Panic spiked through your nerves once as you felt his fingers ghost along the top of your dress, a squeak escaping you instantly as you could tell that the rest of the men in your living room were looking on with keen interest and growing desire.

Another kiss to your cheek before one was planted at the base of your neck. His voice lowering to a sultry coo, Daniel remarked, “Don’t be shy, boss. I knew the moment that I heard that all the youngins didn’t get an invite tonight that you were looking to have your fill of a more mature palate.”

A laugh escaping him, he continued, “I don’t see that darling lad Leone around but I sure as hell see Fernando.”

An amused snort escaped the aforementioned driver. “Ehh you’ll be seeing what I’ll do to your boss sooner than later.”

“Jesus Fernando,” was Lance’s immediate reaction amidst his laughter.

First Lewis, now Fernando.

With the exemplary example that the two oldest drivers in the room were setting, your stomach twisted but your heart fluttered as to what influence this would impose.

“All this talk about pussytoeing or whatever but no action, Daniel,” came about Max’s huffed sigh. “Are we going to keep discussing or are we going to actually get to do something, you horny bastard?”

There was your answer.

And with more yearning stares trained your way, your knees were buckling as your thighs pressed together while you failed to resist against the growing ache between your legs.

“God I forgot how impatient you can be, Maxwell,” Daniel tsked with faux-admonishment before his attention redirected itself back towards you, his other hand proceeding to paw at your breasts as he hummed, “So how do you wanna go about this, boss? One by one, luck of the draw, some gentlemanly lovemaking or star in your own hardcore gangbang porno?”

The first action.

Not rough, but far from delicate. With Daniel’s hand groping you with such firm precision, you only shivered and fell further back against him as you savored his touch with a mewl, the answer of “anything” stuck in the back of your throat.

Daniel was laughing out loud with amusement while some of the other guys jeered with delight, even while the sensation of your nipples hardening through your dress beneath his palm was already making him eager to fuck you right then and there. “This is like the one time I’ve ever seen you so indecisive. No worries–I’ll go first then.”

Turning his attention back to everyone else, he declared with a smirk, “You fellas can join whenever.” As he shifted his gaze towards a familiar pair of green eyes however, he taunted, “You’re last though, Lando.”

“Oh fuck off, Daniel,” Lando snorted with a roll of his eyes, downing the last of his drink before slapping his glass down on your coffee table as he rose up in defiance. “I’m gonna devastate that pretty boss of yours until she’s preparing a contract for me.”

And so it began.

Just barely an hour before, you were having quaint conversations with your guests, graciously basking in their praise and wishes of goodwill to you and your team for the next season, to your career as you sought to help continue the momentum in bringing more women to the forefront of the sport.

Now you were quickly left debauched while subjected to their whims.

At first, it started off manageable, your lips left to be possessed by either Daniel’s or Lando’s while their hands joined in ripping off your dress before their fingers sought to explore and expose your body in full to the voyeuring eyes of the other drivers, whether toying with your nipples or delving into your cunt.

It only took the way you sighed and whined out both of their names while you melted beneath their touch that the rest of your guests either took initiative to make their way over to you or patiently enjoyed more wine until you were eventually passed along to their side of the room, all while clothes were soon discarded and dropped to the floor.

Earlier, when you were anticipating the arrival of the drivers, your decision to forgo any undergarments left you feeling giddy and on edge, your mind flashing to fantasies of being used as their personal toy just before you snorted and waved off the thought even as you doubled down on your decision to skip out on any bra or panties for the evening.

You genuinely couldn’t have imagined that your party would transpire like this.

Positioned on your knees, your eyes obscured by Daniel’s hands as he had you guess which man was currently fucking your mouth or having your hands stroke them off.

Every correct guess guaranteed that you would be fucked well to orgasm. Every error made was a guaranteed photo taken on someone else’s phone–a memento of such an esteemed female trailblazer at her naughtiest.

You were set to fail.

Already overwhelmed by being at the center of such an outrageous fantasy turned reality, with over 10 candidates to guess from, as you were made to adjust your jaw to accommodate the girth of whichever cock was stuffing your mouth while you had one leaky tip smear your cheek with precum as another stained your hand, there was no way you would be able to guess properly.

In this case, it was Pierre, Lance, and Lando who claimed victory, prideful satisfaction evident on their faces with the shuttering flash of their phone cameras as they beheld the sight of your pretty face painted with their cum as you gulped down their respective orgasms.

The next instance drew inspiration from your housewarming party itself, with both Daniel and Lewis hosting a special taste test: a pour of Enchanté and Almave right upon your breasts for anyone to come and compare.

Ever in the spirit of teamwork, it was Alex and Carlos who rose up to the challenge, their lips latching onto your nipples for earnest suckles, mouths and tongues hungry to kiss and lick away any trace of wine from your breasts until they were clean.

Afterwards, your physical endurance was put to the test as you found yourself hanging onto the likes of Esteban and George as you were passed between the two, both taking turns lifting you up into their arms as they hammered their cocks into your cunt, enjoying the way your legs hugged their waists.

Of course, while there was harmony and cooperation, you couldn’t have a gathering of these drivers without competition flaring.

After all, being made to latch onto Charles’s shoulders with a squeal as he plunged his cock into your cunt from beneath you while Max was stuffing your ass full with his dick had you truly feeling the brunt of their rivalry.

And given that this whole situation spiraled further given the respective co-sign from two of the oldest men in attendance, you were left in a pleasured heap on your floor while you were mounted by either Fernando or Lewis, both plowing away until the amount of times your core and ass were leaking messily with their cum surpassed that of anyone else who had a turn with you thus far.

You couldn’t be happier.

From having once waved off the idea of getting to indulge in such lasciviousness as mere foolishness, you were used to having so much attention on you for your ability to lead.

Now, after the sheer debauchery you were treated to all night long, it was utterly satisfying to have all eyes on you for your ability to please a man.

At this moment, it was Daniel.

Seated on his lap as you obediently bounced away on his cock, your legs parted wide while he groped your breast from behind as he worked his fingers over your clit, you were happy to show gratitude for the initiative he displayed on your behalf.

While his lips kissed and bit at your neck, he rasped out, “Come on, boss. I gotta show why you signed me in the first place, right?”

The sudden snap of his hips and the careful press of his fingertips upon your clit was all it took for you to orgasm messily with a sharp cry at that instant, the gush of your release flooding forth much to the amusement of your party guests, all with phones out at the ready for photos and videos.

As you fell back against his chest in dazed bliss, your body was at conflict between wanting to bask in the afterglow and craving for even more pleasure.

A decision would have to wait however, given the sudden ring at your front door that had you startled while your guests looked at one another in confusion.

Even Daniel didn’t seem to anticipate sudden presence. “Yo Lando, did you invite Oscar or something?”

“The hell, I’m not his keeper–”

An index finger popped up.

“Ahh I can answer that,” George suddenly chimed with a laugh. His twinkling blue eyes gazing at yours, he then winked while reaching for his dress shirt to hand towards you. “Though I believe it’s best if you go, beautiful.”

Though confused as ever, you did as told as you stood up from Daniel’s lap to slip on George’s shirt, doing your best to cover yourself up while you stepped over towards the entrance to your home.

Upon opening the front door, you were immediately face-to-face with a simple yet outrageously expensive yet simple pale blue button-up shirt.

Your eyes proceeded to trail up.

And up.

All towards the shadow that loomed above.

Your jaw went slack as your eyes widened with shock.

“To–”

A thick, calloused finger hushed your lips as an accented baritone voice greeted,

“I was planning on visiting another day but I got a text from George that this was a party not to be missed.”

Of all times to suddenly have team principal solidarity with–

You were met with light laughter as your disheveled state was inspected. “I can definitely see he is right.”

Big hands rested on your shoulders before you were turned around with ease, guiding you on ahead to rejoin the others once more while a pair of lips fell by your ear in a husky murmur.

“Please allow me to join the others in welcoming you to the circuit further, schatzi.”

————————-

this was supposed to be about lonely mrs wolff housewife saucy shenanigans but ALAS 😭

also to gently address the australian elephant in the paddock i got nothing against oscar but my rpf cutoff is up to the birth year of 1999 🙇‍♀️

thank you for reading!!! i may be opening requests in sometime esp since it’s summer so it’s time to 💦

617 notes · View notes

ijustwannabecool · 26 days ago

Text

White Flag

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Driver!Reader

Summary... Two exes on the same team. They broke up before the season started. Now they’re forced to work together through 23 races, 5 continents, and one very awkward off-season.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The envelope was still in her bag.

She hadn’t even taken it out. Hadn’t unzipped the pocket or peeled the seal or pulled the contract out to wave it around with that giddy smile she’d practiced in the mirror at least three times before boarding the flight. It was still there, nestled between her passport and a pack of gum, the weight of it heavier than anything she’d ever carried.

Because now it didn’t matter.

Not really. Not anymore.

Charles stood across from her in the tiny Monaco flat they used to call “theirs,” eyes hollow and voice eerily steady as he said the words she hadn’t seen coming.

“I don’t think we’re meant to do this anymore.”

It was quiet. No yelling, no accusations. Just that awful, painful calm, the kind that made her want to scream.

Y/N blinked, confused. “What… what do you mean?”

“I mean…” Charles sighed and looked down at the floor like it held answers. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while. About us. About how we always seem to miss each other. Maybe it’s the timing. Or maybe it’s just who we are.”

She took a step forward. “Charles, we’ve been doing long distance for two years. Through back-to-back seasons. Through two team changes. And now—” Her throat caught. “Now that we’re finally going to be in the same place—”

He shook his head before she could finish. “That’s the thing. I don’t think being in the same place will fix what we couldn’t make work apart.”

She stared at him, stunned silent.

She didn’t tell him.

Couldn’t.

Not when he looked like that—like he’d already left.

So instead of pulling out the envelope, instead of saying “I just signed with Ferrari,” instead of telling him that next season they’d be side-by-side in red, she just stood there and let him walk out the door.

Let him walk away from her. From them.

--------

Charles was halfway through his morning espresso when he saw it.

It was a headline. On his phone. In all caps. With her name.

“Y/N Y/L/N SIGNS WITH FERRARI FOR 2025 SEASON”

He blinked, then blinked again.

No. No, that had to be wrong. A leak. A rumor. A fake.

He clicked the article.

There was a picture, her in the Ferrari garage, shaking hands with Fred Vasseur, the faintest of smiles on her face. She looked radiant. Calm. Like she belonged there.

And suddenly, it all clicked.

The way she hesitated that night. The way her eyes shimmered like they wanted to say something. The bag she clutched a little too tightly. The silence that fell between “I don’t think we’re meant to do this” and the door closing behind him.

She hadn’t told him.

And now, she didn’t have to.

The entire world already knew.

-----------

Charles hadn’t meant to break her. He’d only wanted to protect himself.

But now, staring at her face on his screen, Ferrari logo above her name, the team’s official welcome post already past a million likes—he felt like the biggest fucking idiot in the world.

She had signed with Ferrari.

She had signed to be his teammate.

And she hadn’t told him.

His espresso sat forgotten, going cold. He rubbed his jaw, then his temple, then grabbed his phone and pressed call.

It rang twice before his mother answered.

“Charles?” her voice was sleepy but warm. “Is everything okay?”

“No,” he said, blunt. Then ran a hand down his face. “I mean… yes. I’m fine. It’s not urgent. I just…” He sighed. “I need to talk to someone who isn’t paid to agree with me.”

She chuckled lightly, waking up fast now. “That bad?”

He didn’t answer right away.

“She signed with Ferrari,” he said finally.

There was a pause. “Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t know?”

“No,” he murmured. “I broke up with her before she told me. She was going to. I think. I—” he swallowed. “I think she was about to when I… when I ended it.”

“Oh, Charles.”

His chest clenched. “What the hell do I do now?”

His mother was quiet for a long moment before she said gently, “You do your job. You show up. You treat her with respect. And if there’s something still left between you… you don’t run from it this time.”

He closed his eyes, leaned his head back against the wall. “I don’t even know if she’ll talk to me.”

“Then listen,” she said. “That’s where you start.”

---------

The conference room at Ferrari HQ was buzzing.

Cameras. PR people. Team principals. Engineers. Two seats up front with name placards.

Leclerc Y/L/N

Charles arrived early. Hair perfect, suit sharp, pretending to scroll through briefing notes while every part of him tensed like a wire ready to snap.

She walked in exactly five minutes late.

Poised. Confident. Dressed in Ferrari red like she was born in it.

And she didn’t look at him.

Not once.

Not even when she sat down right beside him.

The murmurs in the room shifted. Charles caught the whispers.

“Weren’t they—?” “Thought they were dating…” “Guess not anymore.” “Yikes.”

He kept his face unreadable. Professional. Cold, even.

But inside, it was chaos.

They hadn’t spoken in over two months. Not a single text. Not a single call.

And now she was here. Acting like they were strangers.

The press conference began. Someone asked about their dynamic. About working together.

Y/N smiled, polished and polite. “Charles and I have known each other for years. I’m excited to be working alongside him.”

He forced a nod. “The car comes first. We’re both here to win.”

After, when the cameras clicked off, she turned to him finally.

Not warm. Not cold. Just… distant.

“Hi,” she said. “Guess we’re doing this.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Then offered a weak, “Hi.”

She nodded once and turned away again, already talking to an engineer.

Just like that.

Like nothing had ever happened between them.

-------

Barcelona. Bahrain. Silverstone. The preseason carousel began.

And with every media day, every team photo, every launch party—they had to stand next to each other. Smile for the cameras. Sit through interviews that always ended with the same question:

“What’s it like being exes and teammates?”

She always deflected gracefully. Charles wanted to punch something every time.

But the worst was the paddock.

When the paddock learned they weren’t together anymore, it spread like wildfire.

Whispers. Pit wall gossip. Old friends turning sympathetic.

And Y/N… she just kept going. Kept performing. Kept posting her sim sessions and race suit fittings like nothing had ever shattered her.

The worst part?

She looked happy.

Or at least better at pretending than he was.

---------

To be continued... Please let me guys know if you would like a part 2 and what would you guys like to see :)

444 notes · View notes

rex-rambles · 1 month ago

Text

➤ SEEING RED (AND ORANGE) | LANDO NORRIS

pairing: lando norris x soulmate!reader

summary: since lando turned eighteen, he has yet to figure out what his soulmate trait is, but he's pretty sure he has mastered the art of emotional intelligence, which is totally the same. right?

or: you can feel your soulmate's emotions. lando has no idea.

wc: 7.3 k

warnings: moments of angst and poor emotional management

➤ MASTERLIST

2017

Lando sits, in the middle of his living room couch, surrounded by all of his friends and family. This year had been magical, joining McLaren, becoming a reserve driver, so close to his dream he could almost taste it. And now, he was about to find his soulmate, and his entire life would be complete.

He never could dream small, he thinks as the seconds tick down. He had this all planned out for who knows how long: he would win a world championship, have a giant family and a dog and a house in Monaco and England and maybe even one somewhere fun and tropical, and he would be the happiest, coolest person alive. His soulmate would be gorgeous and smart, much smarter than him, and run to him after every race, and-

"Five," They begin to count down for him, and Lando lets his fantasy slip away to brace for impact, arms stretched out in front of him to watch for any magical marks on his wrists. "Four."

"Three," Lando whispers under his breath. His soulmate mark or trait would be something cool, not the stupid colour blindness one, or a hard-to-find one. "Two,"

"One." For a moment, the world is perfectly still. No one moves, no one breathes, and nothing appears on Lando's arms. No voice fills his head, no memories of past lives come flooding to him. He stands, ripping off his shirt in case it's a mark hidden someone, stripping down to his underwear as everyone laughs, and he waits.

Mere seconds pass before the realization hits like a truck: Lando has no idea what his soulmate trait is, and it isn't obvious. "Maybe you have to write something on your arm?" Someone passes him a marker, and he frantically writes 'hello' on his forearm, and nothing appears.

Disappointment has never felt so bitter. It's deep within him, spiralling around his chest in a way he'd never felt before, ceasing him up entirely. He didn't have a soulmate trait. Maybe, he didn't have a soulmate. Maybe, this was all stupid and pointless, and he was standing in his underwear in front of everyone.

And then, just as he thinks he might cry, his heart very gently become warm, a slow building happiness that has Lando awkwardly smiling as he sniffs and wipes at his eyes. It's a calming notion, that comes over him next, like his heart is reminding him to take deep breathes, and he does. "So?"

"Nothing," He says to the crowd. "Nothing changed."

2023

"And you're alright with travelling?" Amanda asks over a mug of tea, steaming in the cool England air. "We've a winter house in the Alps and a summer house in Monaco, which with little ones is a big deal."

"Travelling, if anything, would be a perk." You joke back over your own mug, hands clamped around it tightly. Why she insisted on sitting outside in the morning just after the rain, when the chill still hadn't quite left the air despite the spring weather, was beyond you. That being said, you weren't about to miss this opportunity because of the weather, or your own annoyance with the cold. This was your one chance to finally travel, to finally put all your hard work to use, even if it was chasing a billionaire's kids around.

"Well, it's a highly stressful perk." Amanda continues, "And taking care of kids is a highly stressful job. Are you good at handling stress? Negative emotions?"

You nod, your real answer stuck on your tongue. Bringing up soulmates during an interview wasn't exactly the smartest of ideas, considering the potential discrimination from employers who might not want to hire someone who has yet to find their soulmate. After all, soulmate tracking could lead you around the world, and above all, you can tell Amanda needs someone committed to her children and their needs. "May I be honest?"

Amanda raises an eyebrow, mug paused just below her mouth. Based on the name scrawled on the inside of her wrist, and the fact you were interviewing to be an au pair, she had no trouble finding her soulmate.

But you?

You were not so lucky. "I have to be good at handling emotions, because it's my soulmate trait. I feel whatever they feel, all day, every day."

When you turned eighteen, nothing obvious had changed. Your family had stayed up to see the clock strike midnight, to see what soulmate trait you'd get, carrying on the tradition of colour-blindness, or maybe a timer, like your cousin had gotten. Instead, you saw no change, no secret mark appearing on your skin.

You just felt disappointed, and somewhere in the universe, in yourself, the feeling of disappointment returned to you.

It was always hard to explain that you could feel the same emotion as your soulmate, but you could. It was a separate thing, based in the middle of your chest, as if your heart could feel two things at once. It was always there, at the back of your consciousness, every feeling attached to a life you'd never seen.

Joy, you think, was the most pure and obvious emotion, something that bubbled up in you with a smile you could never shake. When your soulmate was happy, it was never just contentment, but a bright thing that made you daydream of how their grin must look, how wonderful their laugh must sound.

Anger was the second most common. It came in short moments of frustration, or sometimes a deep, week-long affair of something blinding, a rage that seemed to consume them whole, and you by proxy. Sadness was a different sort of beast, originally all consuming. There had been long, long stretches of time where it felt as if all your soulmate could feel was anxiety, sadness, grief, and it was this period that made you seek out meditation methods, psychology courses and ways to help others. You spent enough energy sitting with your soulmate's emotions, keeping calm on your end to help them with theirs, that it just sort of became your whole life.

They might have outgrown the sadness, but you never outgrew your ways of helping them.

You found joy in the world around you because you knew how it helped someone else feel. You pursued jobs and opportunities that allowed you to help others because you knew how to keep a level head, to hear everyone's story, to sit and mourn and love as if they were your own emotions.

Perhaps it wasn't the healthiest thing to get so wrapped up in the emotions of others instead of your own, but it was what your life had come to. Your soulmate had carved this life for you, despite the fact that you had no luck so far in finding them. The next step, then, was obviously branching out and travelling, which made this position, offered to you based on your emotional intelligence, a dream. "But besides your soulmate, how can you deal with other people's emotions, especially children's?"

"I've spent so long studying people, their emotions and their body language in attempts to find my soulmate that it's now just sort of second nature. I can tell what people are feeling because I'm so used to feeling more than just one thing at one time." You answer, and she shakes her head slowly.

"What an impossible thing to track. How would you know?" She sets her mug down and flags a waiter. The man stops by with the receipt, the timer on his wrist reading four months, six days, three hours. "See, a timer, that's useful. Emotions? Ridiculous, if you ask me."

"I think I'll just know when I meet them." Or at least, that's how all your fantasies played out, just locking eyes across a crowded room and realizing that you could feel them, that it was always them, but so far, nothing of the sort had happened. "I mean, I've experienced all of their emotions for the past five years, I ought to be able to pin that to a person."

Amanda rises, putting on her coat, and you're quick to follow, your own half-full drink abandoned. "I would've hired you already without the soulmate trait, but I suppose that's the bonus that makes you so special, anyway." She pauses, then, and turns back to you. "If you don't mind me asking, what is your soulmate feeling currently?"

"I think he's frustrated, but it's not the same as angry. Just sort of annoyed." You take a slow, deep breath in an attempt to calm your own racing heart. If they were annoyed, the last thing they'd need to feel is your nerves added to it. And, after enough breaths, you can feel them start to relax, all on their own.

“No soulmate trait?” Oscar asks, and Lando hums over a ridiculously large bowl of salad.

“It makes no sense!” He answers, stabbing at the lettuce in front of him with a vengeance. “Like not a mark, no colour changing shit, just…nothing. I think it’s one of those things where you have to touch people to know.”

“So that’s why you’re so clingy,” Oscar answers sympathetically, and Lando takes a crouton and throws it at him. It had been six years, and he had yet to find his soulmate, to have that connection click into place with a simple touch. Sue him for being clingy when it was the only hope he had for finding true love.

Then, just as soon as Lando begins to feel genuinely resentful, a soft wave of calm comes over him. He had joked, once, that his heart and his brain were capable of feeling two different emotions at once. Sometimes, he was furious, but in his heart, he knew he would be fine. Othertimes, his heart was just so happy for no reason. No one really understood what he was talking about, but Lando didn't mind. He was rather proud of his emotional intelligence, being able to decipher what he was really feeling under the surface. He was maturing into a proper adult who could rationalize their thoughts and feelings, but then again, proper adults don't throw croutons in dining halls.

He takes a slow, deep breath, trying to match the beating of his heart, and after he exhales, he returns to his conversation. “Does your heart ever get happy when your brain is angry?"

“What?”

“Like I was pissed about the soulmate thing, and now I feel all calm. Like my heart knew I was being stupid.” It was like someone reminding him to breathe, to think of the better alternatives, like the fact that his soulmate was probably out there, just with a rare trait that would make it all the more worthwhile.

Oscar, unfazed by both the strange question and the crouton, thinks for a moment before speaking. “I think you’re just old enough to know not to be mad about things. Or you have other things to focus on.”

“Maybe.” Years later, Lando would look back at this moment and bang his head into a table, but in the present, he continues to eat his salad and ponder why no one's investigated the psychology of the heart.

2024

"Micah? Is that what you're supposed to be doing?" Micah, who should be unpacking his things into the summer house in Monaco, has decided he will not be sorting his socks, and instead will be constructing the world's largest indoor racetrack around his bedroom floor. Never to be left alone, his younger sister Emily is perched in the middle, drooling over a little pink car.

"I put 'em away, Nana." Micah says, jabbing his thumb in the direction of his suitcase, half shoved in a closet. Typically, children called their grandmothers Nana, but they had adopted the word for you, a sweet little thing you were terrified they'd outgrow. "See?"

"Ah, yes, I see." You walk over to the suitcase, gently drumming your nails on the top. "How silly of me, this is perfectly unpacked as your mother requested."

Micah, not quite yet understanding sarcasm, beams his gap-toothed smile. "Told you!"

"But, what if you need to get an extra pair of shoes? Or sandals? They're stuck at the bottom." Emily gives up on her determination to eat the pink car and grabs part of the track, like a baby-sized Godzilla over the raceway. "And what if we, say, wanted to go to the beach after dinner?"

Micah pauses at that, sitting up and squinting at his suitcase. "...I can just lay the suitcase down?"

"And if you can lay your suitcase down, you can put your other clothes away too. Now come on, before dinner. Your cars will stay exactly where they are." Then, to grant him some mercy, you scoop up Emily from the floor and try to put the pieces of his track back in place.

And then, your heart stops beating in your chest, fingers hovering over the little plastic track.

Disguised for a moment of panic, you realize it's your soulmate's heart that's stopped, your whole body going cold. For a moment, a terrible awful moment, it feels as if the connection is broken, that there is no emotion to be felt at all, and before you can truly grasp what is happening, a joy greater than anything you've ever known washes over you. Scientifically, you know it must just be a rush of adrenaline, of endorphins and hormones, but god, this must be the most a human body can produce at once, rendering you entirely numb to anything but the excitement, the triumph, it can't compare. It's ecstasy, with a laugh you've never heard before ringing in your ears.

It's a bright kind of sunshine that makes you dream of how your soulmate must be smiling, what they must be doing to become so happy, how much you wish you could be there to experience it with them. Then, as it begins to wane, it becomes tinted with every other emotion possible.

Sadness, grief, pain, fear, love. It's that last one, the love, that startles you the most, because you've never felt it on your soulmate's end before. You dream that this must be how it will feel when you finally meet, so different than any other emotion you've dealt with before. It's something pure and unadulerated, with no real sign. You just know it's love, and you have to sit on Micah's bed as you try to catch your breath at the feeling.

It's the sort of mosaic of emotions that you think must embody a person whole. That everything your soulmate has ever felt has just been channelled back inside you, taking over where veins once were. Colours are brighter, the world slower, the pain softer. Emily reaches up to pat your cheeks, startling tears from your eyes that you hadn't realized had formed.

Micah comes to stand beside you, a sock outstretched in his hand. "I'm sorry I didn't put them away."

"Oh, sweetheart," You soothe softly, gently parting his hair away from his face. It's sad, you think, that people don't get to experience this in their everyday life. To know what it's like to feel a partner's joy, to know that when you reach out with your own happiness for them, it gets taken and amplified a hundred times over. "I'm not upset because of you. I'm happy."

"Happy?"

"Your mom told you what soulmate's are, right?" He nods along quickly, face lighting up.

"Did you just meet yours?" He almost shouts, and while she must have explained some concepts, it's obvious he doesn't understand how the whole thing quite works yet, but he has plenty of time to learn.

"My soulmate is really, really happy about something, and I'm so happy for them." It makes it all worth it, you think.

Becoming so devoted to learn about the brain and emotions was already worth it, already a passion, but feeling this, greater than any emotion you've ever felt, it's indescribable. It's something you doubt you ever could forget, the power of their excitement feeling as if it might never fade.

"But you don't know what they're happy about." Micah points out, returning to the volcano that is his suitcase.

"I don't need to." You answer honestly. "Joy should be shared at any time, for any reason. I don't need to know the fine details." And with that, you rise, intent on finding Emily's sandals somewhere in her nursery. "And for that reason, we should go and celebrate too. We can get ice cream after dinner."

Micah, not needing much convincing, quickly joins your side. "I like your soulmate. He should be happy more often."

"Yes," You answer, wishing you could bottle this emotion and keep it forever, "He should."

Lando knew his first win would be big, but it was the sort of dream that didn't feel real, even as he was thrown into the crowd, even as he put the trophy over his head, even as he hugged his mom, even as the night waned and the club slowed and he, inevitably, found himself back in his hotel room.

He couldn't help it. It was just this constant rush of everything all at once, the excitement, the pride, the terrifying realization that life continues on. There will be more races that he might win, and he finds himself more determined than ever to win them. It's the delight that he did it, he finally did it, and the sadness that comes with knowing it took him so long. His younger self would be so proud, and the thought only adds more confusing emotions into the mix. Overall, however, is how much he loves this sport, despite all the pain that does come with it. This was what he was always meant to be doing.

His heart isn't helping either. The happiness from it just sort of comes in waves, not connected to his thoughts or his words at all. It's like his heart, every so often, remembers that he has something to be so happy about, radiating a warmth that Lando's never felt before. He's never been this happy in his life, like he's perfectly whole, even with his missing piece, a small cloud he'd ignored hanging over him the entire day.

He never could dream small, but when he had his first win, he wanted a soulmate to share it with. That being said, he's not sure it really matters now. This moment, soulmate or not, is just perfect. He can share plenty of wins with them in the future, anyway. For right now, there's just him and his heart, gently beating and echoing warmth, joy, delight, triumph, whatever you want to call it.

Lando is very happy that his heart is happy, he decides as he finally goes to bed.

It should feel like that more often.

2025

Fourth wasn't bad, Lando could tell his heart was trying to tell him, but he didn't want to listen.

He had fucked up, plain and simple, all the way back to starting tenth like he was a fucking rookie again, and sure, he had made his way back to fourth. It was respectable, really. He made a good recovery, he was fine, but he was more furious than he had been in a long time, because this season showed that he should know better.

He was leading the championship, for god's sake, and now he was below Oscar when he could've kept his title. It was an anger that led, rather quickly, into self-deprecation. He had failed, of course. He could have done better, could have tried harder, could have been better. He didn't have the mindset, people kept saying. What mindset? What did Oscar have that he didn't?

He had cried and fought and struggled to get here now, and he fucked up. In qualifying, like a rookie, like someone who should know better. Fourth, a burn only worsened with the thought of the meagre points he'd get. Fourth.

Needing something to lash out against, Lando picks up his water bottle from beside him in the driver room and winds up, eyes set on the wall across from him, when his heart does what it does best, and soothes him. It wasn't telling him that fourth was okay, he finds, but rather a strange sort of sympathy that he had a right to be mad.

It was understanding of his pain, sending soft waves of calm, a tune stuck in the back of his mind that he couldn't quite understand. He should be mad, the water bottle launched across the room, but it stayed in his hand as his heart unravelled the worst parts of him. Anger, rage, was a good, short release, but it didn't get to the heart of the problem. He needed to take a deep breath, his lungs working of their own accord as he let his arm fall, dangling uselessly at his side.

Fourth.

Next race would be better. Next race, he'd lock in, he'd figure out whatever hiccup had cost him podium, had lost him first. He would do better, and he would be better, and that would be that.

Even still, as he finishes up for the night, he finds a sadness coming from his heart, an emotion he didn't know would hurt as much as it did.

The anger and joy, this year, kept coming in rounding bouts. Excitement one weekend, failure the next, something that could only be akin to gambling addiction, some sort of sports fan, or someone going through just a rough couple of months. Emily seems as attuned to your soulmate as you are, wailing the moment the anger occurs, rearing its ugly head, and you find yourself calming two souls at once.

You bounce Emily in your arms, a hefty task now that she's four, humming a soft lullaby as you try to get your soulmate to take deep breaths, take apart their anger. Sorting through emotions was a tall task, even this many years in, but there were so many layers to the sadness and anger that it was just...hurtful.

A pain you couldn't fathom. Emily soothes as your soulmate does, falling back asleep as you get her tucked into bed, your soulmate's resentment cascading away to just a tired, dull sort of thing. There's a hint of happiness, somewhere at the edges, and that's all you need to let go, to focus back on your own life.

You don't know how often you'd done that, taken time to soothe someone who never did the same. Your own anger, sadness, what have you, never seemed to be noticed. There was never a comforting, deep breath, a calm happiness to comfort you, just whatever they were feeling, like they couldn't care about helping yours.

You had devoted your life to the emotions of others, you realize as you peer into Micah's room to find him asleep, peacefully curled up under his blankets. You'd raised him for the past two years, taught him how to exist and grow and act, same as Emily, sleeping peacefully behind you. They were children who needed the guidance, the extra set of hands, but your soulmate was grown.

So how could they not handle it? You took extra courses, found a career path out of it, but they just seemed to live life, going through the motions with little regard for what all the frustration might do to someone else's daily life. That spike, that explosion of joy held so fondly in your memories now only returned in shorter bouts, like a drug slipping away from someone, and you focus on tidying up the last of the toys scattered around the hall to distract yourself.

You knew all the emotion tactics to calm yourself, anyway.

So why would you need someone else?

Lando's heart has been acting up lately, following him through Miami's second place, and into Imola's second place, and now Monaco.

It just hadn't been as happy as it could've been, as calming as it could've been, like every time Lando experienced a bump, it got less and less willing to pick up the pieces, and Lando understood. Being his heart was a big task, but it was sort of his heart. He needed it, and its strange intelligence.

The worst part was people started noticing it, too. Not his heart, exactly, but just that as much as he was happy, it wasn't to his core. He had tried numerous remedies, chocolates, therapies, everything, including now going for runs at random hours of the day, currently on a hike in the few hours of dawn just outside of Monaco.

But the farther he ran, the more up this hillside he went, the further his heart sank inside him, until he could only describe it as weeping.

Reaching the top, he begins to think he might be losing his mind when he begins to hear it crying, too, only to stumble across a real person, crying before him, and his heart tugs in his chest so hard he thinks it might fall out.

Burnout happens far too fast to really understand it, even coming from someone who dedicated their life to understanding people's emotions.

It was hard to always be happy, to always be in tune with other people's emotions, but it was all that you knew. You were supposed to be the happy one, the helpful one, but it was hard to always be happy and always be helpful when it was all coming to an end anyway. Emily and Micah were grown, old enough to have opinions and dreams that far outshone your own, because at some point, children outgrow nannies. This would be your last year full-time, Amanda had broken to you a week or so ago.

She wanted you around for help with Emily, at least until she was five, but after that, they were going to try functioning as a whole, with you there if they needed extra support. And it wasn't leaving the family, leaving this job, that was the hard part. You were more than understanding, after all.

The hard part was the realization that nothing was meant to last. You weren't meant to always be there, supporting other people, raising children and sending peace out into the world. At some point, you needed to stop projecting emotions and needed to start feeling them, stunted for so long in the name of love.

You didn't blame your soulmate, really, but it was time you started living, outside of them, outside of nannying, and that meant doing things for you, like waking early, finding a nice hiking trail, and just going. You walked until your feet grew sore, until a bench looked promising, until your emotions caught back up, and so did your soulmate's.

Soft and on edge, a sadness that wasn't anything too deep, but just persistent. Instinctively, you take a breath, and it all falls apart.

Every emotion you've been taught to suppress, to help others navigate through, every joyful moment not shared, every painful moment you've taken on as a burden comes out in a wail that you can't control.

It was a gift to feel your soulmate's emotions, but you shouldn't have to feel so obliged to help them through every bout of sadness and anger, exhaustion piled up from years of your own neglect.

You had been given so much joy in this life, watching a Monaco sunrise from the clifftop, but you can't help the way it's all been tainted by experience.

After all, there are no tips or courses on how to heal a broken heart, desperately trying to get out of your ribcage.

Lando's heart keeps tugging him toward the person currently sobbing on a bench, and he has no idea what to do about it. He's emotionally intelligent, he tries to reason with himself. If someone is in distress, like they're lost, he can help! Or, he might be ruining a moment that a stranger needs alone, but his heart keeps weeping and the sadness keeps spreading until finally, Lando takes a few brave steps forward before coming to kneel before the person on the bench. "Hey," He says, with the awkwardness of a man thrust into a truly new situation, "Don't cry."

You blink at him owlishly before covering your face with another sob.

Great start. "I mean, crying's okay!" He says, quickly coming to sit beside you, leaving enough space not to crowd you. "It releases stuff for you. But like, if you're crying about a reason, I can...help."

"Oxytocin and endorphins," You sniff, a sentence that fully catches him off guard, but the weeping in his heart ebbs way for...annoyance? "Crying releases oxytocin and endorphins, they help promote-" You uncover your face to look at him, and it's just heartbreaking, truly. He doesn't remember the last time he saw someone this upset besides his own reflection in the mirror. "Helps promote well-being."

"Maybe I should cry more often," Lando jokes softly, and happiness slips into his heart before disappearing again. His heart normally was so good at calming him, so why was it so difficult to calm other people? "But I mean it. I get that I'm a stranger, but if something's wrong, I can help." Then, because he knows better, "Or I can try?"

You don't answer him immediately, turning to look out at the sunrise. It's pretty, he thinks. Calming. You hiccup beside him, and Lando glances over to see your bottom lip tremble with another wave of unshed tears, and his body reacts before he can.

He takes a big, deep breath. The kind his heart is always telling him to take. One deep breath in, one deep breath out. "You can breathe like that, too. It helps."

"It triggers the relaxation response." You answer through stuttered breath, somehow far more informed on emotions and their controls than he is. You must be a doctor or something, he thinks. Maybe one of those wellness coaches. Either way, you start breathing alongside him, in perfect unison.

"My heart always helps me breathe." Lando says, trying to make conversation, and you give him a strange look as his heart echoes confusion. "I don't know how to describe it, but my heart has its own emotions. And when I get upset, god knows it's too often, it reminds me to be calm, and breathe. Like this-" He takes in a deep breath, and releases it.

Then you take a deep breath in, and release it, and his heart mimics the action. You watch him intently, repeating the action a few times, until Lando realizes his heart is in sync with you.

The breathing, the confusion, the weeping.

A strange mix of emotions floods his heart seconds before he makes the connection, too.

"You can feel me?" You ask softly, "My breathing?"

The world sort of comes to an end on a park bench in Monaco, Lando realizes, because he can feel you breathing. When your eyebrows raise, he feels the shock deep in his heart, and his mind supplements that his soulmate trait must be feeling your emotions, and like the true idiot he is, this whole time he just thought it was his heart feeling things.

God, it's been eight years. Eight years you've been feeling every emotion and trying to help him out, and Lando never knew. He'd never got to help you with your emotions, anyway. You've just had to suffer through all his anger, all his sadness, and he slowly lowers his head into his hands, truly unable to come to terms with what you're saying, what he's feeling, what you're feeling.

He's been blind. Worse than that, he's been ignorant and honestly almost manipulative. All those deep breaths were you having to take the time to breath with him. All those moments his heart was sad, for no reason, or happy, for no reason, it was you living a life that he was unaware of. Every secret emotion he let out, that only he and the walls of his room shared, you knew.

You knew all the deepest, darkest parts of him, and he thought you were his heart.

It's a new sort of grief that wells up inside him, that is immediately replaced with action. This was not his time to mourn, but yours. He snaps back up, and you're still in the same, curled up position, looking at him in awe, and without much ceremony, Lando reaches over to pull you to his chest, the soulmate connection snapping in place as he gently cradles the back of your head into his shoulder. "Jesus fucking christ," He breathes out, "I thought you were my heart."

You don't answer him, but he waits to expect the anger, the confusion, the sadness, but all he can feel is something soft and small radiating from you that he thinks might be love, and he begins to cry for it.

He's sure that if there are any other unfortunate hikers on this trail, they'll stumble across a strange scene of two strangers hugging each other and crying, but Lando has seen stranger in Monaco. Besides, he can't care much about anything besides the soulmate in his arms, and all the ways he needs to make it up to you. From now on, his emotions take a back seat, and he'll help calm you, keep you happy. He wants to memorize every detail of your face, your smile, your laugh. Firstly, he thinks, he should probably get your number and your name.

"How do you know how to handle it?" Lando finds himself asking as he lets you pull away, wiping at your eyes. "Oxy-cotton or whatever, how could you..."

"I studied it." You answer quietly, "For you."

"For...for me?" You nod, and Lando's body shakes with unshed tears.

"You experience everything so vividly. I just wanted to help." You've felt how hard he's been on himself, how angry, and you've been there every step of the way, trying to help. You studied how to help him, for him specifically, and there's nothing he could ever do to make up for it. You reach up to wipe away the tears as they fall, studying his face. "Seems like I could have taught myself a thing or two."

"You're perfect," He says, voice cracking as he looks down at you. "I'm an idiot."

Lando never expected to meet you here. He always thought he'd be in some strange corner of the world, where he'd lock eyes across a crowded room and just know, but instead, you're here, in Monaco, a gift from the universe because he never would have been able to find you otherwise. "Your words," You answer with a sniff. "Not mine."

"Stop being so good at this," Lando says, rubbing his hands over his face. "I need to be the one helping you, not the other way around." He opens his fingers to peer at you through them.

"You just being here helps." You shove his shoulder gently as you speak. "But you really didn't consider once that your heart having emotions was weird?"

"Thought I was emotionally intelligent. Like...my heart was also a brain." He watches you suppress a laugh and he hides behind his hands again. "Shut up! I know, I know, I have a lot of work to do."

And for a moment, you just look at each other, and then that happiness comes spiking back up, and you're slumping into his side as you laugh, a deep thing that has Lando laughing too, like some old joke you've known forever.

His soulmate. You're his soulmate, and he can feel your emotions, and while that is genuinely probably the worst soulmate trait Lando has ever heard of, it's a trait. He has a soulmate, and he is an idiot, but as he wraps an arm around your shoulders and watches the Monaco sunrise, he realizes he has all the time in the world to make up for it. "I'm Lando, by the way."

Every time you look at Lando, you feel a rush of emotions that you now know he feels too. Maybe that's why he turns to flash you a grin, just as bright as you knew it would be. Or, maybe, it's because it's your first time in the paddock, the first time Lando gets to reveal you to the world, the fact that you're real.

You can't really fathom how he never knew he could feel another person's emotions, and with a soft groan, he leans into your side. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

The past months you've spent together, Lando has been determined to get to know your emotions. Every little thing you go through, you get a text, a random delivery at your door, him peering around the corner into the living room with a raised eyebrow as you angrily try to put together Ikea furniture. Nearing the end of your contract with Amanda, and trying to find your new way in life, Lando insisted you move in with him, and that he would be your emotionally intelligent student. It was a lot of big steps to take, but looking at him now, you're more than happy to take them.

"I thought you couldn't read minds," Lando's teammate Oscar says, and Lando's quick to shake his head.

"I told you, we can feel each other's emotions," He says, arm wrapping around your waist. "For example, I can tell that right now, they are madly in love with me."

He leans in to kiss you, and you gently shove his face away with your hand, matching grins plastered over your faces. You were, honestly. He was a strange, strange being who defied the emotional courses you took, but it made sense. You were a rock when he was a bouncy ball - hyper and all over the place, but he was teaching you to relax, to let go, to let him go. He insisted that he didn't need your help now that he knew how much brainpower it took up, but that didn't stop you from slipping into old ways, reminding him to breathe no matter where in the world you were, calming him from a distance.

Micah makes a fake gagging sound from beside you, though he's also grinning ear to ear. Lando had given the entire family paddock passes, mostly as a gesture of goodwill, but also so that he could have an excuse to have you here for a race. "Be nice, Micah." You say, ruffling his hair.

"Yeah, Micah." Emily quotes, reaching for your hand. She was still quite shy around Lando, whose energy was not always appreciated. You pick her up, an old habit that will die hard, even as she's no longer a toddler, but you hold her on your hip as you hum one of her old lullabies to help ease the stress.

Beside you, Lando absent-mindedly hums along, and you stop your own noise to stare at him. He was always full of surprises, really, somehow knowing a song that must have slipped through the cracks of your emotions. Well, all of him was a surprise, being an F1 driver more famous than you had ever expected your soulmate to be.

To Lando's surprise, you existed. It was something to get used to, a shame that clung to him, but he was growing out of it. He wanted to know every little detail, from favourite colours to where you grew up to where you wanted to go. You weren't sure yet, really. You wanted to help people, but you needed your own time and space with your emotions, and Lando was more than willing to help grant you that.

The media, unfortunately, had also wanted to know every little detail, intent on painting you as some young mom before it came out that you were a nanny, which was somehow better and worse. People had plenty of things to say, but that didn't really matter when Lando was at your side, intent on making Emily smile and putting up with Micah's antics, who had already scored a free hat, shirt, and the fuzzy part of a boom mic from somewhere. "Who do you think is going to win the race?" Lando asks the two, who both blink back at him. "Come on, it's me, right?"

"Or is it going to be Oscar?" You ask, the other man beside you laughing.

"Oscar." Emily announces rather quickly. "He can win."

Both Lando and Oscar wear matching expressions of confusion, but Oscar's quickly morphs into a grin as he does a little bow. "Thank you, I'm happy to have your support."

"Oh, come on!" Lando says, now desperately turning to Micah. "You want me to win, right? British boy to British boy."

Micah looks from Lando slowly to Oscar, who offers two thumbs up. "I want...Oscar?"

"Oh, this is just not fair!" Annoyance stirs in Lando, but dissipates when he looks at you. "You're supposed to teach them better than this."

"Oscar wins so you can stay home," Emily says, playing with her paddock pass. "You make Nana happy."

Lando pauses, and you can feel his heart swell with love, and with little regard for the cameras everywhere, he buries his face into the side of your neck as he blushes. "Get off Nana!" Micah says, tugging at Lando's shirt.

"Nope," Lando says into your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you tight. "S' my heart now."

"Always was yours," You answer with a kiss to his temple, and you can feel Lando melt both against you and in your heart. "Now go win a race, yeah?"

Lando peels back with that smile that makes your heart do things, and you can tell he knows exactly what you're feeling when that grin just grows. "Thought I was supposed to stay home to keep you happy?"

"You've got the rest of your life for that." With a genuine sadness you can feel in your veins, Lando finally parts, sneaking another kiss before he's off, and you find yourself that much more attuned to his emotions when he's gone. You can feel the anxiety and the stress as he prepares, the excitement as the race starts up, and the inevitable growing anger and fear as he fights for pole. Second, in your mind, was fantastic, but Lando never knew how to dream small.

Taking a deep breath, slowly in and out, you wait for Lando's heart to sync with yours, and you can feel him relax just the smallest bit, granted a moment in a corner to overtake Max, and you scream so loudly with excitement that Emily and Micah cover their ears. Lando echoes back that joy and excitement, keeping pace until the race ends. You don't get to see him when he pulls up to the parc ferme, still stuck wrangling the young children, but you can feel nothing but pure joy all the way until he's up on that podium, trophy high above his head as he scans the crowd. He belonged up there, you think, with this kind of ecstatic delight taking over him. That moment filled with joy and love, all those years ago, had been his first win.

And yet, here, now, that memory was dull in comparison.

Because when Lando scans the crowd, and finally locks eyes with you, you feel a burst of nothing but pure love.

It's a feeling that never goes away.

a/n: i saw this concept for a soulmate trait and just had to do something with it!! i honestly want to write so much more between these two

#➤ rex works #➤ ln4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fic #lando norris angst #lando norris fluff #f1 x reader #f1 angst #formula one x reader #f1 imagines #reader insert #f1 fluff

1K notes · View notes

no-144444 · 16 days ago

Note

i love love your writing i probably binged some of them haha! i was wondering if you can write smth about their partner having intense baby fever. i was thinking you can do oscar or ollie or the whole grid, really up to you ❤️

꩜ summary: you say something, and it tips his world upside down

꩜ pairing: oscar piastri x fem! reader

꩜ a/n: thanks for requesting!

Family functions weren’t exactly Oscar’s forte, but you made them bearable. Kids running around, adults too drunk to remember to hold their tongues, and you and Oscar, usually sat in the corner of the garden on kid duty. You were wonderful at it, listening intently, sorting out arguments in seconds, all while holding onto one of Nicole’s friends daughter’s 5 month old baby. He’d tried to take her off your hands, but she’d started crying immediately. He watched in awe, totally enchanted by you.

“We should have a kid,” you said, as casual as anything. His world tipped on its side. Yeah, maybe he thought about it occasionally. Like in those moments when you’re so wonderful with Penelope, or his own family, or Lando’s nieces and nephews, or maybe in those moments when you know exactly what to say to anyone to calm them down, or often those moments when he was balls-deep inside of you seconds away from cumming. “What do you think?” you turned to look at him with that innocent ‘I didn’t just give you a boner and make you want to cry at the same time’ look. He turned his attention back to the park in front of you both, Family Fun Day in full swing.

“I’d like that,” his voice was a pitch too high and he coughed despite himself. “I mean- yeah. I think we should. Affirmative,” he felt like he’d passed out and woken up with his hand on his forehead, ready to salute. You chuckled and leaned against his shoulder, his cheeks already a bright shade of red. The baby in your arms wriggled, but it didn’t faze you. None of it seemed to.

“You’re such a dork,” you chuckled, then you were quiet for a moment, soaking it all in. The garden in front of you, littered with kids of all ages, and you couldn’t help but think of you and Oscar with your own little hoard of kids who looked exactly like you two. You watched as he helped out one of the girls, she’d fallen and hurt her knee, and he sat her on the remaining space on the bench between you, and played ‘I-spy’ until she felt good enough to go back out there. “You’ll be a great dad though.”

Again, his world flipped on its side. He cleared his throat, shocked that even after years of being together, you could still make him feel like this. He took a deep breath. It was the fact that it was definitive. Not ‘you would’ be a good dad. You will be a good dad. No questions asked. “You’ll be a great mum.”

“I hope so,” you answered dreamily. “Some little toddler running around looking like us.”

He swore he’d died and gone to heaven when he thought about that. Mornings with you, sunlight streaming in, a little girl or boy who had your eyes and his hair or vice versa, babbling away while he helped you make a morning coffee, and helped them with homework, or reading, or anything they’d ever want. It pulled at his heart more than he’d want to admit. “Yeah,” he smiled. “That’d be nice.”

mclaren masterlist

navigation for my blog :)

1K notes · View notes

sargeteen · 2 months ago

Text

𝒍𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 ! ᵐᵛ¹

i just wanna see you win ｡𖦹°‧

𝒎ax verstappen x 𝒅rag racer!male reader synopsis: max verstappen wasn't gay...at least that's what the internet believed. he believed he was being obvious that y/n was his, but then other people started to flirt with HIS boyfriend.

genre: smau, humor warnings: y!paul walker/hayden christensen as a fc, suggestive comments, plot was lost????

requested? nope author's note: requests are coming trust!! also, requests will be closed for the time being. i'm currently in the last stretch for high school, so i'll probably open them up during the summer!!

masterlist.

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, danielricciardo, and others tagged: maxverstappen1

blondcars win after win

view all comments

userone oh you are so fine

usertwo THEY DONT MAKE MEN LIKE THIS ANYMOREEEE 😩😩😩😩😩

maxverstappen1 couldn't have picked a picture of my face? ⤷ blondcars babe they don't need a picture of your face to know it's you ⤷ userthree the way that they're so comfortable with each other that y/n started calling max babe im 😭😭 i wish i had friends like that

userfour you are so fine, i'm following you home ⤷ blondcars please dont do that actually

danielricciardo you got that bde ⤷ blondcars thank you big man 😉🔥 ⤷ maxverstappen1 leave him alone daniel he's mine ⤷ danielricciardo didn't know we gatekeep friends 💔💔

userfive #smash. hard.

usersix "till the-" WRONG WE ARE NOT STOPPING ⤷ blondcars take me out to dinner first, will ya?

userseven god just one chance

usereight you and max are so cute togehter omfg ⤷ usernine theyre not dating 😹😹 ⤷ usereight oh theyre not? oh.. ⤷ usernine LMFAOO yeah theyre not dating, theyre both straight

charles_leclerc just one chance, y/n 😞😞 ⤷ maxverstappen1 no. ⤷ userten lestappen mention?? ⤷ usereleven protective over our monagasque are we? ⤷ blondcars i thought you would never ask, charlie 🙇 ⤷ maxverstappen1 ... ? ⤷ charles_leclerc my door is open ☺️ ⤷ lando can i come too 😏😏? ⤷ blondcars obviously, but max you stay home ⤷ maxverstappen1 ?????

liked by logansargeant, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and others tagged: maxverstappen1

blondcars new car who dis?

view all comments

usertwelve why is max always here ⤷ blondcars cause i want him to be

userthirteen please tell me it's named banana ⤷ blondcars no it's called twig ⤷ userthirteen ...like the monaco bar? ⤷ blondcars max named it.

maxverstappen1 twig looks good ⤷ blondcars i can't believe i let you name my car ofc you would name it after a bar in monaco ⤷ charles_leclerc twiga is actually a restaurant not a bar ⤷ blondcars ☝️🤓 nerd alert ⤷ charles_leclerc i know your home address. ⤷ blondcars scuderiaferrari ??????? ⤷ scuderiaferrari who's charles leclerc?

lando UGLY ASS CAR MINES BETTER ⤷ blondcars who? ⤷ lando my car??? ⤷ blondcars CARES!!! ⤷ lando 👴🏻👴🏻

userfourteen you look sexy asf man

userfifteen suddenly my name is twig 🚕

logansargeant this is so fast and furious core ⤷ blondcars i am actually brian spilner btw ⤷ logansargeant you would ⤷ blondcars tf does that mean ⤷ logansargeant ????? I WAS AGREEING WITH YOU HOE????

usersixteen you're the hottest formula 1 driver and you're not even a formula 1 driver ⤷ blondcars i'm associated with them cause i used to be a f2 driver but now i do something cooler so thank you ⤷ userseventeen wait how did i not know you drove in f2????????

usereighteen SMASHHHH SMASHHHH

usernineteen are you single perchance

maxverstappen1 none of these comments would be able to treat you right ⤷ blondcars and you would? ⤷ maxverstappen1 maybe. ⤷ usertwenty HELLO?????????/

usertwentyone i would until i pass out

liked by danielricciardo, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1, and others

blondcars omfg im so goofy you can't take me anywhere

view all comments

usertwentytwo yet i still would

usertwentythree yall are too freaky in these comments...digital footprint and all that...

oscarpiastri the goofiest ⤷ blondcars you know it goat

usertwentyfour omg!! he is so goofy!! so crazy!!

maxverstappen1 contain your goofiness. ⤷ blondcars let me be myself, max ⤷ maxverstappen1 you can be yourself, just contain your goofiness around me, you're too goofy. ⤷ blondcars you da goat max, but imma keep being goofy

charles_leclerc neva let a man dull your sparkle 💁‍♀️💁‍♀️ ⤷ blondcars you know what, hell yeah! thank you charles ⤷ charles_leclerc happy to be of service, king 💁‍♀️

usertwentyfive when you pulling up to a formula 1 race, king? ⤷ blondcars when i want to ⤷ usertwentyfive yeah...you know what yeah

usertwentysix GOD I LOVE YOU

usertwentyseven even when he's being goofy he's hot

usertwentyeight please reject me so i can move on

lando you got a bunch of whores in your comments, mate ⤷ blondcars thats one thing we got in common ⤷ lando don't call my fans whores ⤷ blondcars you just called mine whores??????? ⤷ lando mate most of these comments are bots ⤷ blondcars yet they're commenting on my account, therefore fans

usertwentynine pùś$ÿ in bïò 😍😍😍😍 ⤷ blondcars ok ⤷ maxverstappen1 ???? ⤷ blondcars max look away im taking care of business

userthirty HASHTAG HARD SMASH

danielricciardo cant take you anywhere but you can take me somewhere ⤷ blondcars on god? ⤷ danielricciardo on god

liked by lando, blondcars, danielricciardo, and others tagged: blondcars

maxverstappen1 off limits.

view all comments

userthirtyone WHAT THE FUCK

userthirtytwo HUHHHHHH???????????

danielricciardo im sorry what ⤷ maxverstappen1 who has bde now ⤷ danielricciardo ?????/

blondcars oh max emilian verstappen... ⤷ maxverstappen1 hi y/n :) ⤷ blondcars you jealous little shit

userthirtythree HELLO????? WHATS GOING ON WHAT IS THIS REAL

userthirtytwo GUYS WHATS GOING ON ARE THEY GAY ⤷ maxverstappen1 blondcars ? ⤷ blondcars oh yeah we're super gay

lando ykw yeah i knew that ⤷ maxverstappen1 because i told you ⤷ lando yet i still knew

userthirtythree im crying what i knew they were together ⤷ userthirtyfour do you want a medal or something

oscarpiastri my eyes still need bleach btw ⤷ blondcars your fault for barging into max's drivers room ⤷ oscarpiastri LOCK THE DOOR MAYBE??? ⤷ maxverstappen1 nah everyone at red bull knew not to walk in ⤷ oscarpiastri YALL ARE GROSS ASF

logansargeant papa y papa ⤷ maxverstappen1 blondcars since when did we have a kid ⤷ blondcars since always. logan is my child. ⤷ maxverstappen1 ok...logan can you take jimmy and sassy for the night? y/n and i have a date night and i don't want them to be by themselves. ⤷ logansargeant SIR, YES SIR!

userthirtyfive holy moly...hottest couple ever

userthirtysix always knew y/n swung for the same team ⤷ blondcars wtf...💔 but like yah 💁‍♀️💁‍♀️💁‍♀️💁‍♀️💁‍♀️

liked by danielricciardo, lando, charles_leclerc, and others tagged: maxverstappen1

blondcars blah blah blah...proper name, place name, backstory stuff

view all comments

maxverstappen1 i love you, y/n ⤷ blondcars love you more geek

userthirtyseven this isn't your max fan account y/n ⤷ blondcars OH FUCK

userthirtyeight oh fuck man...yeah smash

lando jesus max hard launches you and suddenly you're all that's on my feed please get a job y/n ⤷ blondcars i'll get a job when you win the drivers championship ⤷ charles_leclerc so, never? ⤷ lando you're one to talk, charles ⤷ blondcars hey leave my charles alone. ⤷ maxverstappen1 your charles?

userthirtynine ok so theyre both sluts ⤷ blondcars um well um well, yes!

userfourty ok so theyre boyfriends thats awesome i love you guys so much

userfourtyone still can't believe max verstappen is gay ⤷ blondcars i know right?

danielricciardo do you guys need a third? ⤷ blondcars maxverstappen1 ??? ⤷ maxverstappen1 charles asked first, then you get second ⤷ jackdoohan turns out max and y/n are the paddock sluts ⤷ blondcars TF YOU DOIN HERE????????

oscarpiastri yall cute or whatever ⤷ blondcars thank you or whatever

logansargeant papa y papa ⤷ blondcars is that all you're going to comment ⤷ logansargeant well, yes!

userfourtytwo need y/n in the red bull garage next race ⤷ blondcars redbullracing 🙇🙇????????? ⤷ redbullracing 💁‍♀️💁‍♀️🔥🔥🔥🔥!!!!!!!!!!!!

userfourtythree formula 1 should do what formula e did and have outside people drive their cars ⤷ blondcars actually just let me drive my cars on the track. i feel like i'd wreck the f1 car and i don't want red bull or me to pay for that...

userfourtyfour yall sluts

a/n: this was fun to write

tags: @milessunflowers @lokisen @kevinlolwife @op-81-lvr-reblogs @kazanskied @481rosier @raizelchrysanderoctavius @mountainshuman

546 notes · View notes