#notes on: constructor's relationships

[cressidagrey]

White Horse - Chapter 27: July 2024 - Part 2

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Isabelle Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen is a World Champion. Isabelle Leclerc is invisible.

She watched her family give up everything for Charles’ career—Arthur’s karting, their father’s savings, even her childhood horse. She understood. She never asked for more.

But Max does. He notices the things no one else does, listens when no one else will, and puts her first in ways she never imagined. With him, she isn’t an afterthought—she’s a choice. And for the first time, she realizes she doesn’t have to be invisible.

Warnings and Notes: 

we have now moved on from Charles bashing to bashing his whole family, Discussions of toxic past relationships, talk about loosing a childhood pet, toxic families, mention of the loss of a parent.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/gridgossip MAX. AND. BELLE. JUST. ANNOUNCED. THEY’RE. HAVING. A. BABY. I AM SOBBING INTO MY RED BULL CANS 😭😭😭

@/F1TeaSpiller not belle and max dropping the baby announcement like it’s casual and soft and sweet and now I have to reevaluate my life plans because I thought I was immune to feelings

@/F1DaddyTracker Max Verstappen is about to enter his DILF era and I, for one, am READY.

@/danielsleftbrow can’t believe we all watched Max win titles, dominate the grid, and somehow the most powerful thing he ever did was fall in love with a Leclerc and make her smile like that

@/FerrariPain charles leclerc right now watching his entire family realize they’ve been background characters in Belle & Max: The Verstappen Chronicles

@/F1WifeWatch MAX AND BELLE VERSTAPPEN JUST ANNOUNCED THEY’RE HAVING A BABY I’M CRYING THE WORLD IS HEALING SOFT MAX ERA FULLY ACTIVATED

@/DutchBabyWatch MAX VERSTAPPEN. F1 CHAMPION. CAT DAD. NOW: ACTUAL DAD. The grid is not ready for Baby Verstappen. None of us are.

@/FerrariF1Pain Max Verstappen: wins races, wins hearts, wins at LIFE. Meanwhile Charles is in the studio playing sad piano ballads because his sister just announced a pregnancy in a Red Bull hoodie.

@/Lando4Life Lando definitely screamed when he saw the post. Oscar is already knitting a baby hat. Daniel is googling “godfather application template.”

@/MaxIsWinning Max Verstappen is about to be a dad. Somewhere in the Netherlands, Jos is already prepping a kart for a baby that isn’t born yet.

@/RedBullUpdates SOMEONE SAID “Baby Verstappen is already leading the Constructors’ Championship in our hearts” AND I HAVEN’T STOPPED CRYING SINCE

@/F1TearsDaily “Baby Verstappen coming soon” MAX. BELLE. I’M CRYING IN PIT LANE. YOU WIN. YOU WIN LOVE.

@/WifeGuyMax MAX VERSTAPPEN IS GONNA BE A DAD MAX VERSTAPPEN IS GONNA BE A DAD HE’S OUT-WIFE-GUYING HIMSELF AND I’M SOBBING.

@/MaxIsWinning Max Verstappen is winning on track. Winning in marriage. Winning in fatherhood. Max Verstappen is simply… winning.

@/landoismyman lando holding that baby like it’s his godchild next season i am SO SERIOUS

@/FerrariTired me: no parasocial relationships this season also me: sobbing over max and belle verstappen’s unborn child like it’s my niece

@/GridGossip: MAX. VERSTAPPEN. IS. HAVING. A. BABY. I REPEAT: THE REIGNING WORLD CHAMPION IS GOING TO BE A DAD. WE ARE NOT OKAY.

***

Group Chat: HELP ME

(Members: Daniel Ricciardo, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Lewis Hamilton, Carlos Sainz Jr., George Russell, Alex Albon, Nico Hülkenberg, Nico Rosberg, Sebastian Vettel, Mark Webber, David Coulthard, Sergio Pérez, Fernando Alonso, Kimi Räikkönen, Zhou Guanyu, Logan Sargeant, Esteban Ocon, Lance Stroll and Valtteri Bottas)

Carlos: (Sends screenshot of Belle’s Instagram post) WHAT. WHAT WHAT WHAT.

George: You’re joking. YOU’RE JOKING. I WAS JUST GETTING USED TO THE MARRIAGE.

Alex: I thought the secret wedding was the plot twist. I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR A BABY. WHO GAVE THEM PERMISSION TO OUTDO THEMSELVES AGAIN?

Lewis: I love this for them. I really do. But also. Max? A dad?? I need to lie down.

Sebastian: This is exactly the kind of news that makes you smile and panic at the same time. Congratulations to them both. And may the child inherit Belle’s patience.

Esteban: Wait wait wait Is this real or are we being collectively pranked?? Tell me this is Photoshop.

Zhou: IT’S A SONOGRAM POST, ESTEBAN. There’s a literal baby. Inside Belle. This is not a drill.

Lance: I feel like I need to send flowers. Or a onesie. Or a helmet. Do babies wear helmets?

Nico H.: I always said Max was a menace. Now he’s a domesticated menace. The most dangerous kind.

Logan: I’m not emotionally stable enough for this level of news before lunch. I was just making toast.

Fernando: The real story here is that Max Verstappen kept this quiet Through a championship fight A media circus Family drama I’m officially scared of them.

Mark: I. KNEW. IT. I SAW THE LOOKS. I SAW THE RING. I KNEW IT.

David Coulthard: So do we just… collectively agree that Belle Verstappen has us all wrapped around her very chic, very pregnant little finger?

Valtteri: Respectfully… I’m going to cry.

Kimi: Hope the kid has better media training than Max.

Nico R.: I just want to know when to make popcorn. I want to be emotionally prepared.

Alex: So what’s next??

George: Soft-launch gender reveal via helmet design. I’m calling it now.

Fernando: Does this mean I’m godfather or what?

Daniel: BACK OFF. I CALL DIBS. I already started a registry. I have bibs with his race number on them.

Oscar: They announced it. Finally.

Lando: Oscar, Daniel and I have been living with this secret like it’s national security.

Carlos: YOU ALL KNEW??

George: AND YOU DIDN’T TELL US??

Daniel: Max said if we spoiled it he’d change our sim passwords.

Sebastian: Honestly fair.

Lewis: All I care about is that they’re happy. That baby’s going to be loved. That’s what matters.

Fernando: I’m serious about the godfather thing. Just putting that energy into the universe.

***

The paddock always buzzed on Thursdays — a kind of controlled chaos, full of camera crews and media handlers and engineers pretending not to be exhausted before the weekend even began. But Silverstone felt different. Louder. Brighter. Familiar in the way only a home race could be.

For Max, it wasn’t his home race.

But for her, it almost felt like it.

She tugged Max’s jacket closer around her shoulders as they walked through the gates, the Red Bull staff practically parting for them. Sunglasses on. Hair tucked into a soft braid. Her hand curled around his — always his — and the new, quiet weight of the gold band on her finger and the knowledge beneath her skin that she wasn’t walking in alone anymore.

Not as someone’s sister.

Not as an afterthought.

But as his.

A Verstappen. A wife. A mother.

Their schedule was tight — a dozen media stops and a million eyes. Belle stayed mostly in the background, answering a few polite hellos, sipping tea when someone offered it. Max had been pulled aside for his Viaplay interview, and she stood off-camera with his comms lead, watching with mild amusement.

It was in Dutch. Which made sense.

And would’ve made it easy to tune out.

Except she didn’t.

Not anymore.

“Je hebt iets gedeeld op Instagram deze week — gefeliciteerd trouwens — hoe voel je je over vader worden, Max?” (You shared something on Instagram this week — congratulations, by the way — how do you feel about becoming a father, Max?)

Max gave that soft, crooked smile she loved. “Blij. Echt blij.” (Happy. Really happy.)

“Hebben jullie al nagedacht over namen?” the interviewer said brightly. (Have you thought about names yet?)

Max laughed softly, nodding. “We hebben er een paar… maar dat houden we nog even voor onszelf.” (We have a few… but we'll keep them to ourselves for now.)

Belle smiled. She could understand every word.

Then, with a devilish glint in his eye, Max added, “Maar je kunt het natuurlijk ook aan mijn vrouw vragen.” (But of course you can also ask my wife.)

The mic turned to her immediately — and Belle didn’t flinch.

She stepped forward slightly, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “We hebben een shortlist,” she said, in calm, careful Dutch. “Maar voorlopig heet het nog gewoon ‘de kleine.’” (We have a shortlist. But for now it's just called 'the little one.)

The silence was instant.

A few Red Bull staff members standing nearby audibly choked. The cameraman muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “what the hell.” Even Max looked slightly stunned — eyes wide, eyebrows lifted in that you didn’t tell me you were going to do that way.

The interviewer recovered quickly, laughing. “Spreek jij Nederlands?” (You speak Dutch?)

Belle smiled. “Een beetje,” she answered, with near-perfect pronunciation. Then, a bit more shyly, “Ik ben nog aan het leren, maar ik begrijp het meestal. ”  (A little. I’m still learning, but I understand most of it.) Then in English: “Max learned French for me. I figured it was only fair.”

There was a beat of stunned silence.

She caught the way Max’s face softened — the pride there, the quiet awe. The way he looked at her like she was magic. He laughed, low and warm, reaching for her hand without even thinking.

And the cameras caught all of it — the quiet pride in his face, the ease in hers, the way her fingers curled into his like they were already a team of three.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/F1WifeWatcher: the baby bump. the oversized red bull jacket. the way Max kept checking on her i'm going to cry in the paddock car park

@/GridGossip: Belle Verstappen walking into Silverstone in Max’s jacket, sunglasses on, baby bump very much visible, hand in his — THIS is what winning looks like.

@/TifosiGoneSoft: THE BABY BUMP IS BUMPING THE RED BULL JACKET IS SWALLOWING HER MAX LOOKS LIKE HE’S IN LOVE IN 4K I AM ON THE FLOOR.

@/softlaunchqueen: no but Belle absolutely glowed today like she woke up radiant and said “i think i’ll wear my husband’s race jacket and casually destroy the internet.”

@/VerstappenFanclubNL: She’s wearing his jacket. She’s carrying his child. She answered in Dutch. He looked at her like the sun rose just for her. I need a moment.

@/RedBullTroll33: it’s the way max has one (1) arm permanently wrapped around her like she’s a national treasure which she is obviously

@/MaxIsWinning: he keeps brushing his thumb against her hand like he can't believe she’s real guys this is love i’m not okay

@/DutchPressRoyalty:

“Spreek jij Nederlands?” “Een beetje.”

UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE YEAR.

@/F1Dutchies: Belle Verstappen just answered a Viaplay question in flawless Dutch. I am on the floor. Charles is on the floor. We are all on the floor.

@/GridGossip: Belle: speaks Dutch Max: smiles like a man who knows he married up Charles: googling 'how to say betrayal in French'

@/RedBullWivesClub: Belle said "He learned French for me, so I learned Dutch for him" and now I need a moment. Or several.

@/F1MemeLord:  Belle: exists Belle: speaks Dutch Dutch media: collective meltdown Charles: throws phone into the Mediterranean

@/TifosiTears: Charles Leclerc watching his sister speak Dutch on live TV: [insert gif of man screaming into the void]

@/RedBullHeartthrob: Max said “ask my wife” And then his wife answered. In Dutch. With perfect pronunciation. I AM NOT OKAY.

@/TifosiTears: Belle Verstappen understood the assignment and then re-wrote the syllabus. She said “Max learned French for me, so I learned Dutch for him.” Excuse me while I sob.

***

Charles Leclerc hadn’t meant to watch the interview.

He had been scrolling idly — background noise in the Ferrari motorhome, waiting for his next media obligation, pretending not to exist — when he heard Max’s voice in Dutch.

It was Viaplay. Of course it was Viaplay. Max sounded relaxed. Too relaxed. The kind of calm that made Charles’ jaw clench automatically.

He almost turned it off.

And then he heard her.

Belle.

Not just speaking, but answering the question. In Dutch. Her accent was soft, rounded, but unmistakably fluent. And she was smiling.

Max was looking at her like the rest of the world had disappeared.

Charles sat forward, frozen.

“She learned Dutch?” he muttered, as if someone would answer. “Since when does she—?”

And then she laughed — that same, easy laugh that used to fill their kitchen on Saturday mornings — and said, “He learned French for me. So I learned Dutch for him.”

The hosts laughed. Max beamed.

Charles felt like the world tilted sideways.

It was so obvious now. So stupidly, glaringly obvious.

Her hand kept drifting to her stomach when she talked. The slight curve under the Red Bull polo. The way Max hovered just half a step closer than usual — not possessive, but protective. Her skin glowing. Her eyes bright. Her posture… different.

She looked happy.

Not pretending-to-be-happy. Not “smile for the cameras” happy.

Real.

For the first time, he couldn’t lie to himself anymore.

His sister — the one he hadn’t looked at properly in years, the one whose birthday he forgot, whose voice he hadn't really heard until she stopped using it — was standing on international television, glowing. Speaking a language he didn’t know. With a man she clearly loved. A baby on the way. A whole new life, right in front of him.

And Charles?

Charles was a spectator now.

Just one more person in the crowd.

***

Silverstone was chaos — fast, loud, relentless.

But the McLaren hospitality deck, tucked above the paddock like a sun-warmed balcony, felt like a pocket of calm.

Belle sat back on one of the canvas deck chairs, nursing a cold lemonade and adjusting her sunglasses. Her Red Bull credentials hung from her neck, but nobody at McLaren minded. Especially not when she came with Lily, who had already claimed one of the outdoor tables as their unofficial headquarters.

Emilie sat beside her, picking at a bowl of olives like they’d personally offended her, while Lily — Oscar’s girlfriend — was draped across the opposite bench, sunglasses on, talking animatedly about the papaya merch queue.

“Fifteen minutes,” Lily declared, “for a hat! Oscar said the only people that wait in lines that long are people in love or British.”

“You’re both,” Belle offered with a smile.

“And you’re married and pregnant,” Emilie added, “so I feel like that makes you Queen of the Queue.”

Belle rolled her eyes fondly. “I haven’t queued for anything since Max found out I was craving strawberries.”

“Must be nice,” Emilie drawled, reaching for another olive.

“You could have that too, you know,” Lily said innocently. “If you just admitted that you and Lando—”

“Don’t,” Emilie warned, holding up a finger. “Don’t you dare start.”

Belle tried not to smile. “I’m just saying, you do spend an awful lot of time watching TikTok Thirst Traps for someone who’s just friends with their star driver.”

“It’s anthropological research,” Emilie deadpanned.

“Sure it is,” Lily said, grinning. “And the way Lando looks at you like he’s planning to build you a sim racing shrine?”

Belle nearly snorted lemonade through her nose.

Rebecca — Carlos’ girlfriend — arrived, dropping into a seat with a huff and a pastry in hand. “It’s a zoo out there. Carlos just walked past and someone yelled “El Smooth Operator” like they were summoning a demon.”

“Did it work?” Emilie asked.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Lily - Alex’s girlfriend -  showed up a few moments later, all grace and wit in a floral dress, her sunglasses perched on her head. “I bring sunscreen, gossip, and absolutely no patience for men who think DRS zones are personality traits.”

“Excellent,” Belle said. “We’re forming a coven.”

“I call Head Witch,” Emilie muttered, still annoyed about the Lando commentary.

They were mid-discussion about who would win in a team radio insult battle when someone cleared their throat behind them.

Belle turned — and froze.

Alexandra.

She looked… uncertain. Out of place, maybe. But she was holding a cup of coffee and a quiet kind of determination in her posture.

“Hi,” Alexandra said. “I was hoping… could I join you?”

The table quieted.

Belle met her gaze. No walls. No pretense. Just truth.

“Of course,” Belle said softly.

She looked… nervous. Which was new.

Belle’s heart beat faster. But she didn’t move.

Alexandra stepped forward, hands clasped tightly. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything. I should’ve seen it sooner. The way you were being treated. The way you disappeared. I didn’t… I didn’t know how to say something without stepping on Charles’ toes.”

“You should’ve stepped harder,” Emilie muttered, not unkindly.

“I know,” Alexandra said, her voice quiet. “I got caught up in what Charles was feeling and forgot to think about what you were going through.”

Belle nodded, not quite smiling. But not frowning either. “Thank you.”

“I hope, someday,” Alexandra said, voice steady, “we can build something separate from all that.”

“I’d like that.” Belle said softly. 

Alexandra let out a breath of relief and was immediately handed a fruit skewer by Lily. Rebecca scooted over to make room. Emilie raised a brow but didn’t argue.

And for a little while, they just talked.

About nonsense. About the race. About how McLaren’s espresso machine was criminally underrated.

Belle sat in the middle of it all — women who saw her as Belle Verstappen, not Isabelle Leclerc. Who didn’t ask her to justify her happiness or explain her choices. Who accepted her seat at the table without debate.

Her hand drifted to her stomach again, gently, instinctively.

This, she thought, was what peace felt like.

And then Lily, with a wicked smile, said, “Okay, but seriously. When is Lando asking you to dinner again, Emilie?”

Belle laughed into her lemonade while Emilie choked on a grape.

Silverstone was loud.

But here, Belle felt calm.

She was exactly where she belonged.

***

The paddock buzzed around her — a blur of lanyards, team polos, media badges, and engines humming distantly like a heartbeat under the concrete. Belle had just stepped out of the McLaren hospitality unit, the lemon tart Lily had smuggled into her bag clutched triumphantly in hand, when she heard someone call her name.

"Belle?"

She froze for half a second. The voice was familiar — so familiar — and when she turned, Arthur was already standing a few feet away, hands in his pockets, eyes wide and nervous like he hadn’t expected her to actually turn around.

He wasn’t in Ferrari gear — just a plain hoodie and jeans, no PR team trailing behind, no cameras lurking near.

"Hi," she said softly.

He took a step closer, then stopped. “I didn’t think I’d… run into you. Not here.”

Belle smiled faintly, more out of instinct than anything. “I’m technically on dessert patrol. Don’t tell Red Bull.”

Arthur’s gaze flicked to the little paper box in her hand. “Lemon tart?”

“Always.”

He nodded, then looked at her again — really looked at her. And she knew the moment he saw it: the curve of her belly, visible even under the loose Red Bull jacket she’d tugged on that morning.

His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t comment. Instead, his voice softened.

“You look… really good,” he said. “Happy.”

Belle’s throat tightened. “I am.”

He nodded once, slowly. “That’s… I’m glad. I mean it.”

There was a pause. Not awkward — just careful. Like walking across a rope bridge and not wanting to look down.

Belle looked at him properly then — at the brother who had actually tried, who had sat next to her in therapy and said I’ll do better without waiting to be congratulated for it.

“Thank you,” she said.

Arthur’s expression cracked into something closer to a smile. “Does Max know you’re out here unsupervised?”

Belle raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

“Touché.”

He glanced down, then back up again. “Can I… can I hug you?”

Belle hesitated — not because she didn’t want to, but because it had been so long since it felt safe to let anyone in like that.

But Arthur had come back. Had tried.

She nodded.

He stepped forward carefully and wrapped his arms around her — gentle but protective, like he remembered what it had been like to hug her when they were kids, when thunder scared him and she read him stories by flashlight.

She let herself lean in for just a second.

When they pulled apart, Arthur’s voice was quieter. “Do you… know what it is yet?”

Belle smiled. “Not yet.”

He grinned. “Boy or girl, they’re going to be loved. And probably terrifying in a kart.”

Belle laughed, the knot in her chest easing just a little. “Definitely.”

A voice called for her from the Red Bull side — someone from comms, letting her know Max was finishing up his last interview.

Arthur nodded toward it. “Go. Before your husband launches a search party.”

Belle took a step back. “See you around?”

He nodded. “Yeah. You will.”

And for the first time in a long time, she believed him.

***

FIA Post-Race Press Conference – Silverstone 2024

 Drivers: Lando Norris (P3), Max Verstappen (P2), Lewis Hamilton (P1)

Moderator: Congratulations, gentlemen. A fantastic race here at Silverstone — Lando, home crowd, amazing drive; Lewis, a win at home once again; and Max, back on the podium. We’ll begin with questions from the media.

Reporter #1: Max, Lando — obviously there was a lot of talk after Austria last week. There was contact, some tension. Can you tell us if things are resolved between you?

Max: (with a faint smile) I mean, yeah. We talked.

Lando: We did. Sort of.

Lewis: (chuckling) That doesn’t sound reassuring.

Max: No, no, it’s fine now. My wife and Lando’s… friend staged an intervention. They made us play Mario Kart until we stopped glaring at each other.

Lando: We weren’t allowed to eat dessert until we finished one race without throwing things.

Max: They said it was therapy. It was war.

Lando: But it worked. I still think he’s a menace on track. And in Rainbow Road.

Max:  (smirking) You’re just mad I blue-shelled you.

Lewis: (chuckling) That’s the most domestic F1 conflict resolution I’ve ever heard. What’s next, baking competitions?

Max: (bemused) We did have lemon tart after. But only once we shook hands.

Moderator: So things are good between you?

Lando: We’re fine. We just needed to remember we’ve known each other forever. And that Max can’t win every race and then act surprised when I get annoyed.

Max: I’m not surprised. I’m just better at Mario Kart.

(laughter)

Reporter #2 : Max — a lot of talk this weekend, not just about the race, but also your personal life. You and your wife made your pregnancy public before the weekend — congratulations.

Max: (nods, smiling softly) Thank you. We’re both really happy.

Moderator: Does becoming a father change your mindset behind the wheel?

Max: I think it changes everything, honestly. It’s a different kind of focus now. I want to win, yes. But I also want to go home safe. I want to build a future. And… I want to be someone my kid looks up to one day. So yeah, it changes things.

Lewis: (respectfully) Congrats again, mate. Fatherhood suits you.

Reporter #3: Max, if I may ask — there’s been a lot of discussion online about your wife’s family and their absence. Can you comment on the Leclercs and their current relationship with you and Belle?

Max (calm, but firm): No, that’s private. It’s not for the media. I’ve said what I wanted to say — Belle is my wife, and we’re building our life together. That’s all anyone needs to know.

Moderator: One last question?

Reporter #4: Max, now that everything’s out in the open — the marriage, the baby — any regrets about keeping it quiet?

Max: No regrets. We weren’t hiding it. We just wanted it to be ours, for a while. And now that it’s out — I still don’t regret it. She’s my wife. We’re starting a family. That’s all that matters.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/F1TeaSpiller GUYS. BELLE VERSTAPPEN AND ARTHUR LECLERC JUST HAD A FULL CONVERSATION IN PUBLIC. IN THE PADDOCK. WITHOUT CRYING OR YELLING. IS THIS... PEACE???

@/GridGossip She smiled. Arthur smiled. THEY HUGGED. AFTER EVERYTHING. I AM EMOTIONALLY UNPREPARED FOR A SIBLING REUNION ARC.

@/FerrariTears So let me get this straight:

Belle’s bump is showing

She’s glowing in Red Bull merch

She’s joking with Arthur in front of the media

Max is stonewalling everything Leclerc I LOVE MESS.

@/MaxIsWinning Max ignoring the Leclercs like they’re on a different time zone. King behavior. You forgot her birthday, now you don’t get to be part of the baby era.

@/PaddockSecrets Reminder that Belle’s horse Blanche was sold when she was a child because the family couldn’t “afford it” while Charles was climbing through F2. AND THEY FORGOT HER BIRTHDAY. Forgiveness would take divine intervention if you ask me.

@/MrsVerstappenStan Imagine selling her horse. Forgetting her birthday. And THEN watching her become Belle Verstappen — loved, thriving, glowing. Redemption arc not guaranteed. But Arthur… maybe.

@/CharlesSlippedUp: Arthur hugging Belle: ✨ hope Charles not even making eye contact: 🚨 flop

@/gridchaosdaily “my wife and lando’s friend made us play mario kart” sir. that’s not a sentence. that’s a romcom premise.

@/f1softlaunches:  “Lando’s friend” is code for “the girl he’s in love with but won’t admit it yet,” pass it on.

@/theblondetrauma: no but who IS lando’s “friend”? because there was a very pretty blonde with Belle Verstappen at McLaren and I’ve seen her before 👀

@/wagsandwifi: So let me get this straight. → Lando crashes with Max in Austria → Max’s WIFE and Lando’s mysterious “FRIEND” stage a Mario Kart therapy night → Lando’s “friend” was at Silverstone, hanging with Belle and Lily → ??? → grid peace is restored SOMEONE WRITE THE FANFICTION

@/pitlaneplants: calling it now: lando’s “friend” is belle verstappen’s blonde best friend she had the ✨vibes✨ and the “i yell at you because i care” energy we love to see it

@/lando_fanacc44:  lando in the cooldown room: 😐 lando being gently bullied into mario kart therapy by a beautiful woman: 😵‍💫💗

@/mcblush:  “max’s wife and lando’s friend” shoutout to the women ending grid wars and fixing male friendships with Mario Kart and lemon tart

@/VerstappenWifeWatch: Max just shutting down the question about the Leclercs with "that’s private — Belle is my wife" I have never seen protective energy delivered with so much calm fury. Iconic behavior. 10/10 boundary setting.

@/RedBullRoyalty Arthur Leclerc hugging his very pregnant sister in the paddock while Max is across the track refusing to even mention her family by name… The range. The narrative arc. The fanfic writes itself.

@/MonacoMess: Still not over Max going "no regrets" about keeping Belle and the baby private. That man would burn the world for her and smile while doing it.

***

They were finally home.

The kind of home that smelled like lavender laundry soap and the ocean just beyond the windows. Monaco glittered outside in quiet golds and silvers, but the apartment was calm — lights low, Belle curled into the corner of the sofa with her tea and a blanket thrown over her legs, Max next to her with one hand resting instinctively on the soft curve of her belly.

It had been a long few weeks — Silverstone, media frenzy, a dozen headlines he wanted to ignore and a thousand photos of Belle he secretly saved just for himself. She was glowing. She was exhausted. She was everything.

He was just about to suggest a bath and bed when her phone rang.

Belle blinked, startled. “It’s the stables,” she murmured, already sitting up straighter.

Max was alert in an instant.

She answered with a soft, “Bonjour?”

There was a pause — a breath of silence — and then her entire expression changed.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, hand flying to her chest. “She’s foaling?”

Max didn’t understand the words, but he understood her.

She looked up at him with wide, bright eyes. “Fleur’s in labor.”

Max was already standing. “Let’s go.”

“You don’t mind?”

He gave her a look. “You want me to say no to the birth of your horse’s foal? No chance.”

She was already grabbing her coat — or trying to. He beat her to it, wrapping it gently around her shoulders. She still moved too quickly sometimes, like she forgot that there was more of her now. He kissed her forehead, then her temple, and helped her into her shoes before she could argue about it.

They were in the car five minutes later, tires rolling over the slick stone streets, headlights cutting through the dark. Belle’s hands were fidgeting in her lap — not anxious, exactly, but alive. Lit up.

Max reached over and took her hand. “We’re going to be right there.”

She nodded, eyes misty. “I just… I didn’t think I’d get to be there. Not after Blanche was sold. Not after everything.”

Max didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

Blnache had been a wound that Belle rarely touched. He knew the story — the silent heartbreak of a teenage girl watching her family sell off the one thing that made her feel seen. 

And now she had a piece of her back. In Fleur. And in the foal Fleur was carrying. 

Twenty minutes later, they were at the stables — warm hay, soft light, the familiar murmur of quiet voices around the foaling stall. The stablemaster nodded respectfully as Belle approached, and Max stayed a step behind her, hand on her back.

Fleur was standing, breathing hard, but calm.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Belle whispered, moving to the edge of the stall, voice thick with emotion. “You waited for me.”

Max watched the way her shoulders dropped — how her whole body softened in relief. She was radiant in that moment. Full of life in more ways than one.

***

The air in the stable was warm and heavy, thick with the smell of straw and anticipation.

Belle stood near the edge of the stall, one hand braced lightly on the wooden rail, the other pressed instinctively over the curve of her belly. Fleur stood only feet away, her coat shimmering with sweat, her breath fast but steady. 

Max stood at her side, quiet and solid, one hand resting between her shoulder blades. She could feel the tension in his posture — not nerves, exactly, but something taut and controlled. He hadn’t said much since they arrived, but he hadn’t let go of her once, either.

“She’s doing so well,” Belle whispered, voice caught between awe and something close to reverence.

Fleur shifted, groaned low in her throat. 

“Is it weird I feel like I’m going to cry?” Belle asked softly.

“No,” Max said, his voice low. “But if you do, I might have to join you.”

She turned to look at him — and froze.

He was pale.

Not just pale but white, like all the blood had drained from his face in the last five minutes. He wasn’t breathing heavily, wasn’t panicking — but he definitely looked like someone who was two seconds away from either sitting down or passing out.

“Max,” she said slowly, hiding a smile. “Are you okay?”

He gave her a tight, slightly wild-eyed smile. “I’m fine. Just… watching a living thing emerge from another living thing. With hooves.”

Belle covered her mouth to muffle the laugh. “You’re not going to faint, are you?”

He exhaled through his nose. “No. Definitely not. Maybe.”

“Max.”

He gave her a shaky thumbs up. “It’s good practice, right? For when it’s our turn?”

Belle wheeze-laughed. She couldn’t help it — the image of Max holding her hand during labor looking like this while trying to coach her through contractions was too much.

“You’re so pale,” she whispered, wiping tears from her eyes — this time from laughter. “You look like someone just told you the Red Bull sim rig was down permanently.”

“I am fine,” Max muttered with as much dignity as a man watching a horse give birth for the first time could muster.

But then — just like that — it happened.

Fleur let out a final grunt and shifted her weight, and there he was.

The foal.

Small and slick and dark as midnight, legs too long for his body, ears flicking even before he finished unfolding into the world. 

Belle’s breath hitched in her throat.

A black colt.

Perfect and new and hers — Fleur’s — theirs.

She felt Max slide an arm around her waist, steadying her.

She didn’t even realize she was crying until he pressed a kiss to the side of her head and whispered, “He’s beautiful.”

Belle nodded, unable to look away. “He is.”

Her heart felt too big for her chest.

The foal wobbled on unsteady legs, blinking at the world like it might blink back. Fleur turned her head and nuzzled him gently, and Belle’s hand tightened on the railing.

“I didn’t think I’d get this moment,” she said, voice barely above a breath. “I thought I lost it.”

Max didn’t answer right away. Just held her, safe and warm and unwavering.

“You didn’t lose anything,” he murmured. “You were always meant to come back for it.”

Belle let the words settle, let the tears fall freely this time.

She reached for Max’s hand and squeezed it tight.

And as the colt took his first few wobbly steps beneath Fleur’s watchful eye, Belle felt something click into place — a full-circle kind of peace.

She had a home. A future. A family. And now, a foal. Black as night, born of hope.

***

Instagram Post: @/belleverstappen

Comments: 

@/oscarpiastri:  I’m sorry… did you two just name a foal like he’s about to pull a sword from a stone and rule Camelot?

@/lando.jpg:  ngl I want to meet him. does he bite?

@/emilie_abadie: the knight of your little kingdom is HERE and he’s STUNNING. (also please send pics daily or i will riot)

@/danielricciardo: I need to meet this horse immediately. Also, calling it now: Galahad will grow up to have a mane like Zeus and kick fences for fun.

@/arthur_leclerc: He’s perfect. Fleur looks proud. Please give him a carrot from me.

@/f1softlaunches: not belle casually dropping the most magical name + max almost fainting + making the entire grid feral in one post

@/gridchaosdaily: THE HORSE HAS A NAME MAX ALMOST FAINTED BELLE IS CRYING I AM ALSO CRYING WE ARE ALL CRYING

@/maxverstappen1: That’s slander. I was visibly concerned not fainting. (He’s already faster than me out of the gate, btw.)

@/georgerussell63: I’ve never seen a newborn horse look so judgmental. Galahad is already disappointed in us all.

@/sebastianvettelofficial: This is the best kind of news. Congratulations to you both. 🐎💚

@/alex.albon: Max Verstappen: World Champion, Sim King, nearly taken out by a baby horse.

@redbullracing Congratulations to the newest honorary team member 🐴💙 (Do we need to start making Galahad merch??)

@/carlossainz55:  i would’ve actually fainted. respect to max for holding the line under pressure.

@/victoriaverstappen:  Driver, Husband, Future Horse Dad of the Year. Congrats! Galahad is beautiful, Belle! 🐎✨

@/tifosimess Raise your hand if you're emotionally compromised over a foal you’ve never met 🙋‍♀️🙋‍♂️

@/f1softlaunches: welcome to the grid, galahad verstappen, first of his name, foal of fleur, baby of belle, breaker of max’s cardiovascular stability

@f1babywatch Was Fleur okay?? Did everything go smoothly?? I’m emotionally invested in your horse now 😭

↪@/belleverstappen She was amazing. Strong and calm the whole way through — typical Fleur. She’s resting well, and already giving Galahad the “don’t wander too far” look. 🐴💕

@/hoofandheartdressage:  Do you mind sharing who the sire is? That colt looks beautiful 👀

↪@belleverstappen: Not at all! Galahad’s sire is Glamourdale. He and Fleur made magic. ✨

@/formulaphoenix:  Does Galahad live in Monaco with you guys?? Because I’m picturing a tiny foal climbing apartment stairs.

↪@/belleverstappen: As chaotic as that sounds, no — he’s staying at the stables just outside of town. 

@/ponyclubpatrol: Congratulations!!! Galahad is GORGEOUS 😍 Are you keeping him or planning to sell?

↪@/belleverstappen: He’s staying with us. 100%. He’s already family.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/f1inlaw: genuinely not sure if galahad is a foal, a future champion, or the next king of arthurian legend. either way, he’s already outpacing us all.

@/wifeguyverstappen: max really married belle, bought her a horse, stood next to her while she sobbed through foaling, NEARLY FAINTED, and then posted “he’s already faster than me” like a proud dad

who is this man. i love him.

@/mclarenshadowtea: Lando’s in the comments like “does he bite”

Sir you have never wanted to pet something so badly in your life

@/sainzsimping:  Carlos saying he would’ve fainted is the most relatable part of this whole saga can’t believe max verstappen held it together while watching childbirth but make it horse edition

@/gridgossip:  MAX. ALMOST. FAINTED. OVER A HORSE. THE WORLD CHAMPION WAS TAKEN OUT BY A FOAL NAMED GALAHAD. I CAN’T BREATHE.

@/f1babywatch:  Me, emotionally stable: Also me, reading “Welcome to the world, Galahad”: 🥹😭🫠

@/chequeredhearts:  Belle Verstappen crying. Fleur calmly foaling. Max barely standing. Galahad judging us all. This is Shakespeare with horses and I’m obsessed.

@/f1horsepower:  Galahad’s dad is GLAMOURDALE?? You mean the 2022 world champion in the Grand Prix Special and Grand Prix Freestyle Glamourdale? Dutch Warmblood Glamourdale?!  No wonder the colt’s already a legend. Give him a paddock and a pony podcast immediately.

@/tifosimess: Raise your hand if you're emotionally compromised over a foal you’ve never met 🙋‍♀️🙋‍♂️🙋

@/rainbowroadgp:  “Fleur is fine, Max nearly fainted” is the single greatest Verstappen update I’ve ever read. Give her the driver seat.

@/fernandofanz: not me plotting how to break into a stable in Monaco just to meet Galahad.

@mcpradaqueen

No bc imagine Blanche looking down from her pasture in the sky like “that’s my girl. look at her. excellent name choice. 10/10 job, baby human.”

 @/f1ponygirls: you don’t understand. blanche was taken from belle as a sacrifice to fund her brothers’ careers. and now her daughter just had a foal that stays. Galahad is not just a colt. he is history rewritten with love.

@/tifosimess: I was not prepared for the generational symbolism of Blanche → Fleur → Galahad

this is a bloodline forged in heartbreak and healed with love and carrots@/godsavethefoal Blanche was taken from her. Fleur was given back to her. And now Galahad is hers from the start. THE HEALING. THE HERITAGE. THE VERSTAPPEN EQUINE DYNASTY.

[stellarsecrets86]

Venus In Signs In Groom Persona Chart

✮⋆˙Venus in Aries

Future spouse is direct, brave, and doesn't mess aroundexcept perhaps when he's messing around at love or humor. He's got a rough, boyish form of charm and probably fell in love with you immediately and without second thought. There is a quality of his confidence that is irresistible and an added measure of the hero complex: he'd like to rescue, pursue, and conquer. He loves with passion and intensity, sometimes close to a fault of impulsiveness. He's the one who skydives and proposes or composes 3 a.m. poetry readings with guitar accompaniment. Marry him, and get ready for spurts of romance, passionate fights (and passionate makeup sessions), and a desire to go out there and conquer the world. He likes to have a partner who allows him to take charge but also keeps him intellectually engaged. Quickness to anger or jealousy may be the areas on which he needs to work. This is a husband who has to feel alive in love if it's not exciting, then he questions whether it's worth it. Passion and spontaneity are his default settings, and slow love is his secret ingredient.

✮⋆˙ Venus in Taurus

Meet the man who does slow love, deep foundations, and lasting pleasures. He is not flashy, but he is consistent and possesses a voice that can lull you to sleep after a long day. His sensual quality is secure and tangible; he loves to touch, snuggle, cook for you, and spoil you in little but sensual ways. He's the husband who arrives home with flowers at random, or knows exactly how to have your tea. He's not a hurrier-he's a constructor. Security draws him in. He may be possessive or resistant, but his commitment runs deep. With marriage, he likely cherishes creature comforts: comfortable home, quality time, security, and physical bond that improves with age. He is not necessarily über-verbal, but every action is a silent vow. He works on trust, reliability, and sensuality. He's the protector.

✮⋆˙Venus in Gemini

Your future spouse is witty, smart, and endlessly curious. He might have been attracted to your brain first and face second or maybe your sense of humor regarding punning at a party. He demonstrates love in the form of talking: texts, jokes, thoughts, and constant questions. He's a gabby flirt with a cheeky, young heart, age aside. And diversity is his oxygen; if the relationship becomes stale, he'll psychologically leave before he physically does. He needs in marriage a companion who will facilitate his duality he's there and agitated, intensely concentrated and occasionally unfocused. Intellectual closeness is simpler than emotional depth. He might surprise you with spontaneous new hobbies, pursuits, or trips. Novelty matters in the relationship: mix up the routine, stimulate his intellect, laugh a lot together. He's not clingy but thrives when he is intellectually and socially challenged by his partner. Boredom is the foe banter is the love language.

✮⋆˙Venus in Cancer

This guy leads from the heart and protects what he loves like a crab protects a velvet shell. He's highly nurturing, emotionally attuned, and yearns to build a home not just cohabitate one. He's the one who remembers your notes, remembers your grandmother's birthday, and cries when your dog dies. Marriage to him is coming home. He's emotionally invested from the start and seeks a marriage with emotional security and shared values. He may lean towards traditional roles, especially if that's what he learned growing up, but his caregiving nature keeps him emotionally present and committed. But he's moody and sensitive, requiring reassurance and routine. He's not flashy, however: he enjoys intimate gestures such as hand-holding, home cooked meals, and gentle affirmations. He's the type of companion who wishes to raise children, enjoy holidays, and grow old together watching birds eat in your yard. You can expect warmth, protection, and the fullest emotional fidelity.

✮⋆˙Venus in Leo

Your fs is destined to love like royalty. He's melodramatic with affection, extravagant with love, and perhaps slightly addicted to applause. He's proud and charismatic, and must be worshiped but he spends worship lavishly as well. His ideal relationship is one that's epic and heroic, with a hint of romance, loyalty, and theatrics. He's generous with compliments and energy; he might overwhelm you with presents or stage dramatic nights on the town. He's the kind of man who'll pen a love letter and recite it in moonlight. But he has a giant heart behind the drama he wants someone with whom he can glow, not merely shine alone. Loyalty is paramount in marriage. Betrayal wounds horribly, and disrespect can generate deafening drama. But love him publicly, honor his pride, and he'll be your greatest cheerleader, protector, and snugglebug. He's the husband who will build your love into something of a legacy and a perfect Instagram one at that.

✮⋆˙ Venus in Virgo

He's not flashy and dramatic, perhaps, but he shows love in the most dependable ways: being there, fixing what is broken, and planning ten steps ahead of what you'll need. He loves through actions, not declarations he’ll alphabetize your spice rack but may forget to say “I love you” unless prompted. He may be modest or even shy at first, but beneath that calm exterior is a deeply devoted partner. He holds himself to high standards and may expect the same sometimes too much so. In marriage, he's the one who remembers appointments, refills your prescriptions, and teases your coffee making abilities with affection. He is a critic, but usually out of concern and a desire to improve things. Emotional vulnerability is something he learns over time, usually through trust. Give him safety, routine, and appreciation, and he'll be the kind of husband who improves with age: plain but valuable.

✮⋆˙ Venus in Libra

Your fs shows up in a tuxedo, flowers, and probably with a sonnet already composed. He's the gentleman sophisticated, romantic, and obsessed with fairness and beauty. For him, love is something idealized and sacred. He's drawn to equity, beauty, and gracious give-and-take in relationships. He wants a true partner in every sense equal, elegant, and emotionally perceptive. In marriage, he's the one who plans anniversaries, negotiates with wardrobe, and makes sure both are heard. He can sidestep conflict like the plague and overcompromise, so resentment is pent up. But he deeply does crave peace and intimacy. Watch for elegant courtship, heavy emotional diplomacy, and long-term concern to keep romance alive. He's a "us" believer as a unit and will give up more than he should to maintain harmony. Spoil him like both your best friend and sweetheart, and he'll be loyal through every high and every low just make sure to keep things reasonably nice and relaxed.

✮⋆˙Venus in Scorpio

This man doesn't fall in love he plunges. Rich, deep, and intense, he's drawn to transmuting, all consuming connection. He wants to know every single nook of your head and can't abide superficial relationships. There's something mysteriously seductive about him picture smoldering eyes and a secret he'll never really reveal. He is hugely devoted and fiercely protective within marriage, but needs emotional integrity and trust above all else. Betrayal is an atom bomb. He may have jealousy issues or control tendencies, but this stems from deepest fear of loss. It's an epic romance novel, not a casual romance, to be in love with him. If you can do the work, get in touch with your shadows, and hold space for each other, he'll give you a loyalty that's unbreakable. But don't do it with emotional dishonesty, he can sniff out lies like a psychic bloodhound. For wishy-washy love, swipe left. He's the ultimate ride or die with a Scorpio smirk.

✮⋆˙Venus in Sagittarius

Your future husband is half philosopher, half wanderer, his heart beating to the rhythm of curiosity and laughter. He's a big-lover, loud-laugher, and most drawn to open-minded, adventurous, and spirited partners. He requires intellectual challenge and liberty like oxygen. Don't put him in a cage he'll begin plotting an escape route. In marriage, he's the playfully supportive man who wishes to grow, discover, and develop together. He may avoid intense emotional drama but will arrive with energy, hope, and great respect for your uniqueness. He's committed when inspired and honored. Laughter, shared growth, and a vow of shared liberty open the door to his heart. He shines with travel, meaningful conversation, and common purposes. He's the husband who inspires you in your passions and challenges you to see the world in a new way. With him, love is a journey never captivity.

✮⋆˙ Venus in Capricorn

Your man is the solid, reliable, driven one. He won't show up with flowers but he'll show up on time, every time, with a 10-year plan and your insurance policy filed. To him, romance is less about frills and more about foundations. He takes love in earnest and may wait until he's "ready" to settle down with a relationship. But when he does settle down, it's for life. In marriage, he's protective, possibly old fashioned, and always future-oriented. He loves by duty: doing, arranging, and being grounded. He might struggle with emotional displays, preferring physical expressions of love. But get past his defenses, and he softens up, showing a vulnerable side that few people ever see. His loyalty is zealous, and he works hard to maintain harmony. If you want a partner who's substance over flash and who'll build an empire with you this is your guy.

✮⋆˙Venus in Aquarius

This man is intellectual, quirky, and remarkably impersonal when it comes to love. He's not clingy he's too busy plotting how to build a utopia with solar panels and a retro jazz club. He's a believer in equality, freedom, and mental connection first and foremost. When he does get married, he wants a best friend to begin with and then a romantic partner preferably in one deal. Although he may not be heterosexually hyperemotional, he's incredibly loyal in his own rule-bending way. He needs room, experimental architecture, and a mate who respects his independence. Get ready for offbeat evening outings, cerebral arguments, and a romance more like artistic collaboration. He is attracted to the intellect first, and if you respect his ideals, he'll be hopelessly besotted with you. Don't expect gooey sweetness, though he's Tesla coil, not teddy bear.

✮⋆˙ Venus in Pisces

He is romantic, dreamy, and sentimental. He may live half in this world and half in a fantasy world. He's empathetic, emotionally expressive, and sensitive to the unspoken needs of his spouse. He loves extravagantly and may even get lost in it. Marriage to him is a mystical experience, where love becomes healing, transcendental, and sacrificial at times. He might struggle with boundaries or idealize you so much that he ignores warning signs. But when grounded, his love is remarkably moving. He'll write songs for you, cry at movies, and sit with you in silence when words fail. The catch is keeping him earthed and validating his rich inner life. With this type of husband, love is not necessarily emotional it's paranormal.

[PS: For entertainment purposes only. Enjoy! ]

[redlinespeedster]

how about charlos x driver!reader

I am a slut for both 🫠

OVERTAKE !! ☆

carlos sainz 𝒙 fem!driver reader 𝒙 charles leclerc

[summary] The world of motorsport is shaken by the shocking news: Carlos Sainz has been fired from Ferrari under circumstances many consider unfair. And to make matters worse, his replacement is you—a rising talent, sure, but still a rookie. The news couldn’t hit the Spaniard harder. Suddenly, a newcomer he barely knows is taking everything from him: his seat, his friends, his recognition… and worst of all Charles. Carlos isn’t about to just sit back and watch it happen. (7k)

[warnings] Smut !! threesome, toxic & jealous behavior, dom!carlos, switch!charles, sub!reader, m/m action, rough sex, dirty talk, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (fem receiving), hand job, this is filthy as fuck. Spanish is my first language, and I usually write all my fics in Spanish first, then translate them myself with a lot of effort. Sorry if anything sounds off or if there are mistakes.

[notes] At first, I was like “just a simple one shot,” but then I thought—why not turn it into my 100 followers celebration? You already know this account lives and breathes Charlos, so sit back and enjoy. ❤️

The news that Carlos Sainz will leave Ferrari in the 2025 season completely shook the world of motorsport. It was an unexpected blow. Sainz himself admitted to feeling betrayed: he was ready to renew for another year with the Scuderia, and suddenly, he was out. As if he were worth nothing.

But it didn’t take long before it was announced that you would be the one to replace the Spaniard. It almost felt ironic to him: a rookie, also considered a rising star in motorsport, was now joining the biggest team in Formula 1. Although, when you really think about it, it’s not that surprising — something very similar happened with Charles. The Italian team now sees the possibility of winning the Constructors’ Championship over McLaren closer than ever.

But not even then was when Carlos started to resent you. Well, yes — aside from all that, you were egocentric, you thought you could conquer the world, and you carried that same attitude onto the track. You spoke with a confidence meant to project a superiority that didn’t really exist. But not even that bothered him so much about you. In fact, he even found you attractive.

But he couldn’t help the way hatred began to grow inside him when he noticed that Leclerc also seemed attracted to you. It was true that the Monegasque had always been naturally flirty with everyone —something that had already sparked more than one fight in their relationship, fights that almost always ended up being settled in bed. But ever since he left Ferrari, everything changed. No more quick hookups in the drivers’ room, no more wet kisses stolen when no one was looking. Now he was just following you around like a dog… chasing after you —and your pussy. He couldn’t stand it. He felt like changing teams had practically made him cease to exist.

Charles had always had a weakness for pretty, feminine women. Being a woman in a male-dominated sport didn’t mean you couldn’t be as elegant and flirtatious as you wanted. And damn, you really were. Just watching you walk by was enough to leave more than one driver —and even the occasional engineer— sighing. Fuck, you could be so damn annoying.

Carlos would’ve preferred not to know that you and Charles were sleeping together. But it was almost obvious—the way you looked at each other, how he’d rest his hand on the small of your back, or how you laughed at every stupid thing he said. There was no need to even ask. He didn’t have to catch you in a compromising situation to understand what was going on.

Because it had been exactly the same with him.

Those green eyes, shamelessly flirty, were a trap he’d fallen into over and over again. He couldn’t forget the way Charles spoke to him in that soft voice, laced with double meanings, dropping sexual innuendos every other sentence just because he wanted to be pushed against a wall and fucked without hesitation. The way he’d hold his face in those nearly perfect hands, just to kiss him breathless. How he’d sit on his lap while signing a few caps, shamelessly grinding his ass against his erection, knowing exactly what he was doing. And now he wanted to pretend none of that had meant anything?

Carlos had been replaced in every way—at work, in the spotlight… and between Charles’s legs. Now it was you who rode him, who had him inside, who made him moan like he’d never been with anyone else. He couldn’t help but wonder just how tight your pussy had to be to turn him so fucking stupid for you. And the more he thought about it, the stronger the burning curiosity grew inside him to know what it felt like to be squeezed by you like that.

Maybe his anger comes out on track. His hands on the steering wheel don’t just drive — they force him to overthink everything that shouldn’t be in his head. Qualifying was a disaster, and the race was even worse. He just wanted to be faster… or for this damn nightmare to finally end.

He watches you from afar, driving that red single-seater that, in theory, should’ve been his this season. You’re fighting for third place while Carlos is dragging himself around the back of the field. At first, you notice how he won’t let you through. And that resistance costs you time. Too much time.

“Sainz is a fucking child,” you growl over the radio, fed up with the Spanish driver’s immature attitude — one that’s more like a spoiled, overly competitive kid.

But a single mistake behind the wheel can ruin an entire race, taking out multiple drivers. Carlos’s car collides with yours, sending you both spinning off track. There’s not much to be done: you both have to retire.

You’re frustrated. You’re fighting for a championship — you’re not here for decoration like he is. You knew that collision was intentional, that there was no sign it had been an accident, but the FIA didn’t see it that way.

“Fucking selfish idiot! What the hell is he doing?!” you scream furiously over the radio.

Unfortunately, that outburst earns you a penalty.

A dull anger starts to grow inside you after that incident and after spending hours locked up in the hospital. Over and over you kept repeating that you were fine, that it wasn’t a big deal, that it had just been a minor accident. But the nurse, visibly annoyed, had to remind you that you had crashed into a fence at 200 kilometers per hour.

Charles had been luckier than you. The Monegasque got another podium that season, this time behind the McLarens. And when he told you about it with that silly grin while you were alone, you were about to kill him out of rage. Because just because you slept together didn’t mean you were no longer rivals.

“Your boyfriend hit me,” you growl irritably, gritting your teeth. He barely smiles, with that cocky attitude that drives you crazy. “I’m pretty sure he did it on purpose.”

Your legs rested softly on his thighs while he placed a cold ice pack on your forehead. Although the pain wasn’t very intense, the strong impact had caused the skin around it to start swelling slightly.

“He’s not my boyfriend, but yeah, he probably did it on purpose,” he said, trying to downplay the severity of the Spanish guy’s toxic behavior, which was getting more and more obsessive. “He’s super dominant with me. And yeah, he’s jealous of you.”

“Thanks for telling me,” you say with a hint of sarcasm. “I noticed after he sent me to the hospital by crashing me into a fence at two hundred kilometers per hour.”

Charles laughs, moves the ice off your forehead, and pulls you toward him until you’re sitting on his lap. He gives you a slow kiss on the shoulder, over the fabric of your fireproof suit, and slides his hands down your waist cheekily. “It’s not such a big deal. Actually, I think you turn him on a little. But he won’t admit it… he’s stubborn as fuck.”

You open your eyes in surprise; deep down, you still couldn’t quite believe it. “Feels like he hates me right now,” you say honestly, smiling as you feel him planting wet kisses along your neck’s skin. You tilt your head a little, giving him more access.

Charles laughs against your neck, his warm breath brushing your skin as he leaves hickeys shamelessly, marking you as if you were his. You know you’ll have to cover each of those marks with makeup later because they’ll turn purple… but you love the idea of wearing them, of remembering how he devoured you with his mouth. “Maybe he hates you,” he murmurs with a dirty smile, licking right where it makes you shiver the most. “But that doesn’t mean he’s not dying to get between your legs.”

That sentence lingers in your mind for days. Even when you’re alone at home, already in Monaco, and then again in the paddock, with Charles on top of you as always. His hands grip your neck while he fucks you hard until you’re breathless. He doesn’t even know that in your mind it’s Carlos you’re thinking about, imagining what it would be like if he were in Charles’s place. Would he be rougher? Without a doubt. He would bury his cock with such force that you wouldn’t be able to speak or breathe, only feel how he completely dominates you.

Charles notices that you’re distracted, as if your body, feeling so much pleasure, is in the room with him, but your mind is somewhere else. “What’re you thinking about, mon cœur?” he asks you, slowing the intense rhythm with which he was fucking you.

Your cheeks blush with embarrassment; the image of the Spaniard appears again in your mind and Charles notices because you squeeze him harder than usual. “About Carlos.”

The pace that was slow before now stops completely. He’s not upset or annoyed, but rather curious. Of all the things he expected you might be thinking, that was the last. Because if you were thinking about his ex-lover while the two of you were having sex, it definitely couldn’t be anything sweet or innocent.

“About Carlos, huh?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. Now he definitely has a lot of questions. “So, why were you thinking about him, amour?” So many days had passed that Charles had completely forgotten he told you he might be attracted to you.

He pulls back inside you so he can talk. Both of you remain aroused: he stays fully erect and you completely soaked. That doesn’t stop curiosity from being stronger, and him having to wait before continuing the action.

“I was thinkin’ about what you told me the other day, that maybe he’s into me. And I just can’t stop thinkin’ about it,” you confess slowly, not caring what he might think because he was open, at least in that regard. Charles, of course, understands the feeling, since he’s experienced it more times than he’d like to admit, and still can’t control his knees trembling every time Carlos breathes near him.

He always missed how good it felt when Carlos slid inside him, how everything fit perfectly, how his back arched, and how his tip touched all the right spots. Those were the memories that usually came back before sleeping, along with the ones he had with you.

“I never got why you two stopped seeing each other all those months,” you say, looking him in the eyes, while he slightly turns toward you to hold your gaze.

He’s silent for a moment, as if searching for the exact words, though he himself doesn’t seem fully sure.

“I guess… not being on the same team kinda pushed us apart. He stopped lookin’ for me, I stopped lookin’ for him. And then… you showed up.”

Your eyes shine, and the heat on your cheeks betrays more than you want. You wanted to think he wasn’t with you just because you were his teammate, though honestly, it wouldn’t be that strange. You were together all the time. If not recording some game for YouTube, you were reviewing strategies for the next race, sharing interviews, press conferences… any excuse was valid to keep you two close. And sometimes, very close. Alone.

Maybe that’s why you ended up tangled. It was inevitable.

You remember the first time was in China, after a race that had been an absolute disaster for both of you. The frustration burned inside and you needed to release it somehow. It was quick, impulsive. Hungry bodies searching for an escape route. And it worked so well that you repeated it. Over and over. Until it became a habit: a weekly need, whether at home or in some hotel room lost somewhere in the world.

Because you loved how he touched you. How he read your body without saying a word. The chemistry between you wasn’t casual, it was fire. And you, addicted to every spark.

You slowly slide until you’re curled up in Charles’s arms. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap you firmly, gently pushing you against his chest, as if he needed to feel you close, as if your warmth could calm something inside him. He holds you silently, his lips brushing your hair, breathing deeply.

You want to speak. The words burn in your throat. You’ve never been one to keep your feelings inside, and this time won’t be an exception.

“I think he’s in love with you,” you whisper, not looking at him, your voice barely audible but loaded with meaning.

You can feel how his body reacts. He inhales deeply, his chest rising against your back. The silence that follows stretches, heavy, as Charles closes his eyes. He’s processing it, but doesn’t seem surprised. Deep down… he already knew.

“I know,” he admits calmly. “And I’m in love with you too.”

You sit up slowly, turning to look at him with eyes wide in surprise. But he doesn’t flinch; instead, he takes advantage of your closeness to run his fingers through your hair, caressing you with a tenderness that completely disarms you. As if that confession had been the most natural thing in the world.

You kiss him softly, your lips barely brushing his, as if inviting him to lose himself in you. He responds immediately, deepening the kiss with a slowness that sends shivers across your skin, taking his time to explore your mouth, to taste you, to touch you with every glide until you’re both intoxicated by one another. As if the world had stopped, even though in a few hours you’d have to be back on track for free practice.

And yet, even in the middle of that perfect moment, the memory of Carlos slips into Charles’s mind like a whisper from the past. As you close your eyes and settle against his chest, seeking a few minutes of rest, he can’t help but wonder what it would be like if Carlos were there too. Not to take your place—but to share it. The three of you, tangled in a bed, wrapped in desire… or simply together, anywhere in the world. He lets himself drift into that fantasy for a few seconds more, until reality calls him back: the roar of the engines, the flash of cameras, the show waiting for you.

Carlos longed for things to go back to how they were. You were looking for something new. Charles wanted both the old and the new. And maybe that was a sign that all your pieces fit perfectly together.

The following weeks were a true display of dominance by McLaren over the rest of the teams and drivers. It’s fair to say that while everyone else was racing, they were simply flying. Only Max Verstappen still held onto a glimmer of hope of turning the situation around, although even for him it was becoming difficult to face the tyranny imposed by the British team.

And as if that weren’t enough, now in Monaco, Ferrari was starting to get back on its feet after several races plagued by disastrous results with their new car… which looked more like a coffee machine than a race car. Even you were getting frustrated that it wasn’t performing as expected.

You never talked about Carlos again between you, but that didn’t mean you stopped thinking about each other. No one could ignore the stolen glances in the paddock: you, looking for him; Charles, noticing how he looked at your hips when you walked by; and how Charles stared at his arms—and Carlos noticed.

Those almost adolescent behaviors had you all teetering on the edge of unbearable sexual tension. You didn’t speak—not you two and him—but that didn’t stop the looks from saying everything the words kept silent.

But Charles couldn’t hold out much longer. Months had passed without a single word exchanged, even though, in reality, nothing truly serious had happened between them. Maybe that’s why he made a decision that could be considered reckless… but sometimes, just sometimes, he missed even just talking to him. Before anything else, they had been friends. Or at least something like it.

“Rough weekend, huh?” he said, and his face immediately flushed, realizing how stupid the comment sounded. Of course it had been a tough weekend—Carlos had qualified near the back for his home race.

The Spaniard looked at him with mild disdain, and for a moment, Charles’ heart cracked a little. They were alone; he had no idea how Charles had ended up there. But now… were they supposed to coexist? After so many months of silence?

Charles seemed to be searching for something, as always. Because in the end, he always came crawling back to him, tail between his legs.

“What the hell are you doing?” Carlos asked the Monegasque firmly, leaning in just enough to invade his personal space. “Already bored of your new toy, or is that why you’re suddenly all nice and chatty?”

Charles flushed instantly, trying to ignore the phrase he had just used. He tried to regain control of the conversation, as if that could hide the heat creeping up his body.

“I just… I dunno, wanted to see how you were doing. We’ve been way too distant,” he murmured, not very convincingly.

Carlos let out a dry laugh and stepped closer, completely cornering him. His hands pressed against the wall on either side of Charles’ head. They were so close that Carlos’ breath brushed against his lips. Charles closed his eyes for a second, anticipating the inevitable, his body reacting before his mind; he remembered exactly what it felt like to have him like this—so close, so his.

“Whose damn fault is that?” Carlos murmured, raising an eyebrow with a slow smile, as if savoring the question.

He didn’t answer. His mind tangled in excuses and silences: was it the team, was it him? He didn’t know. And Carlos knew that. He watched him unravel before his eyes—and he loved it.

“That’s it, right?” Carlos leaned in a little more, his voice brushing against him like a whisper laced with sweet poison. “She’s got you so fucking gone you can’t even think straight anymore. Got you so fucking hard you can’t even see what’s right in front of you. You’re way too easy to mess with like this…”

Charles felt a wave of heat rush through his chest, rising forcefully until it lodged in his throat. Breathing became difficult; a slight dizziness washed over him, mingling with something dangerously close to arousal. Carlos’ gaze was fixed on his lips—intense, almost devouring—and Charles fought to ignore how shaky his hands had become, how sudden the shiver running down his body was.

“Not even blaming you, man…” Carlos murmured into his ear, wearing a grin that bordered on obscene as he watched goosebumps rise on Charles’ skin from his breath. “I mean, even I wanna know what it’s like to spread her open, sink in slow and feel her clench around me.”

Charles’ eyes opened, a slow smile forming on his lips. That look returned—the one that always appeared when he already had something in mind… or someone.

“Oh no… that face’s got trouble written all over it,” Carlos whispered, brushing his thumb slowly, deliberately across Charles’ lips. “Let me guess… that pretty little brain of yours just cooked up some idea, didn’t it?”

He nodded, parting his lips slightly, a soft breath escaping as he shivered under the touch.

“Maybe…” he murmured, voice deep and playful. Carlos looked at him like he already knew exactly what he was thinking.

It doesn’t even take you a day to uncover the Monegasque’s twisted plan. All it takes is seeing him grinning from ear to ear every time you go somewhere together—the truth gives itself away. He’s not exactly a master at hiding what goes on in that head of his, and you can tell by the way Carlos keeps throwing glances his way in the media pen, while both of them continue giving interviews after the race.

They weren’t even trying to hide it.

Suddenly, you pinch his arm, pulling him out of his bubble of fantasies and forcing all his attention on you. “Ow! What the hell’s your problem…?”

You don’t let him finish; you just flash him a mischievous smile, raising your brows in amusement. “My problem? No, babe, what’s yours? You’re looking at him like a total idiot. Spill it—what happened?”

“Nothing…” he replies, but he quickly gives up. It’s impossible to lie to you when you’re looking at him like that, with eyes that clearly don’t believe a word he says. “Okay, fine… yeah. But I can’t tell you here.”

Now you’re even more confused. You don’t get the secrecy. Was it really that hard to just say “we fucked”? Because that’s exactly what you were starting to suspect happened. And the worst part? The thought gave you a sharp pang of jealousy. Though you weren’t sure if it was because of Carlos… or Charles.

But it’s the Spaniard who approaches you, leaving you nearly breathless with how calmly and deliberately he moves. To anyone else, it just looks like a casual conversation between three people. Who would suspect something else was brewing in the middle of that seemingly innocent gathering?

“Didn’t your boyfriend tell you already?” he asks, shamelessly slinging an arm around your shoulders. Your cheeks instantly flush red with embarrassment. You’re about to blurt out, “he’s not my boyfriend, for fuck’s sake,” but you hold your tongue, deciding to let him talk. “You didn’t tell her, babe?”

“I was gonna!” Charles replies, rolling his eyes with a crooked little smirk, clearly amused by your confusion. “Carlos and I were thinking—”

“No, just you. You were the one thinking with that dirty brain of yours,” Carlos cuts in, arms crossed—though the gleam in his eyes betrays the fact that he’s not nearly as annoyed as he pretends to be.

It was maddening. Not only did you have no clue what they were talking about, but they seemed to enjoy the game—keeping you out, speaking in half sentences. Like you weren’t even there. Like they found it amusing to see you lost.

“Oh my god, let me talk, will you?” Charles snaps, clearly impatient, though his tone stays more playful than serious. He shoots Carlos a quick glance, then looks back at you. “Carlos and I wanted to…”

But he doesn’t finish the sentence.

It’s Carlos who breaks the silence, his voice firm and almost indifferent. He looks you straight in the eyes, without a hint of nerves or regret, as if it were no big deal.

“We wanted to have a threesome.”

“Oh…” The air gets stuck in your lungs. For a moment, you’re not sure you heard right. Your mind tries to process it, but Carlos’ dry, straightforward tone leaves no room for doubt. He meant it. And the worst part? Neither of them looks the slightest bit sorry.

“‘Oh’? That’s your answer, amor? C’mon—yes or no, spit it out,” he murmurs with a teasing tone that sends shivers down your spine and sparks a flicker of desire inside you.

Your cheeks burn a deep red as you answer, voice firm yet shaky,

“Yeah…”

Carlos smirks wickedly and, with fingers both gentle and deliberate, lifts your chin to lock eyes with you, gaze blazing.

“Buena chica.”

Then he steps away like nothing happened—like he didn’t just leave you with trembling legs, a racing heart, and heat pooling between your thighs, imagining every detail of what had just happened… and what could come next.

They were you and him, as always, in that hotel room somewhere. This time, in Canada. For the last thirty minutes, he had been fingering you without stopping. His words were harsh, full of desire and provocation. He had you on the bed, legs spread, his fingers buried deep inside your pussy, making every touch burn you from within. And you only thought about how long it would take Carlos to arrive to give you the second part of this warm-up that had you on the edge.

“You two can’t even go ten minutes without touching each other, right?” The voice interrupts the moment. You. Because Charles doesn’t even flinch. You open your eyes and see him standing there in front of you, arms crossed, with a look that’s part amused, part annoyed. “Relax, he gave me a card to get in.”

Charles smiles like it’s nothing, not stopping his rhythm. The most disconcerting thing is that he keeps fingering you with the same calmness he uses to speak. He has three fingers inside you, completely soaked, sliding with a precision that makes you arch your back. He moves them with total control: pushing in, twisting, pulling out, then pushing deeper again, hitting exactly where he knows it unravels you.

“How inconvenient,” he murmurs with that deep voice that heats your body. “You should’ve arrived more than half an hour ago. We couldn’t keep waiting…”

Your breathing goes wild; orgasm is dangerously close. Waves of pleasure flow through you nonstop, making you arch your back while broken moans escape your lips. You don’t even care anymore about being half-naked in front of Carlos. And clearly, he doesn’t either.

He watches you calmly, as if he has all the time in the world to admire you. Your legs open, your clothes a mess, your breasts barely covered. You are pure chaos, and yet, you look perfect like that: soaked, trembling, exposed.

“If you want her to cum… touch her clit,” Carlos says as he sits next to Charles on the bed, shamelessly watching his fingers firmly entering and exiting you. “It’ll be easier. She’s probably so swollen she barely needs a touch.”

It feels strange how they talk about you out loud, like you’re a thing. Not invisible… but not quite human either. Like you’re just there to be used, admired, pushed to the limit.

“I know,” Charles replies, not taking his eyes off your face. Then he pulls his three fingers out all at once, slow as they come out, wet, shining from how soaked you are. The emptiness shakes you immediately; you feel your body instinctively contract, searching for what’s no longer there. “I just wanted her to last a little longer.”

Carlos firmly grabs Charles’s wrist and guides his fingers to his mouth, without asking, without hesitation. He opens his lips and wraps them around each finger with his tongue, licking slowly, savoring every wet trace they carry from you. He sucks shamelessly, wanting to extract every last drop of your taste, and when he releases them, he licks his lips with closed eyes and a clearly hungry expression.

You climb onto the bed on your knees, moving closer to them, completely surrendered. Charles reaches out urgently, stripping every piece of clothing still hanging from your body with a mix of anxiety and desire. Carlos doesn’t even help; he’s too focused on staring at your breasts. Your nipples, hard from excitement, hypnotize him. He didn’t need to check to know you were wet… but he would anyway. He wanted to dive into that heat, taste every drop, hear you moan with parted lips and trembling body.

He also wanted Charles to do it.

It’s Carlos’s hands that calmly slide down his clothes, removing them with the same familiarity he’s done so many times. His eyes are fixed on him as he undresses him, and his lips glide to his shoulders, leaving slow, almost possessive kisses.

Charles lets it happen, smiling with that disarming confidence, and meanwhile, he pulls your shirt off over your head, as if everything were perfectly synchronized.

You moan softly when his thumbs brush your nipples, teasing them until they harden. You stay sitting on the bed, legs spread, while they watch you from the edge, standing, devouring you with their eyes.

Carlos doesn’t take his eyes off you. They’re lit up, full of desire, although his lips still get lost on Charles’s neck. Until he kneels in front of you without saying a word, holding your hips and pushing you a little more toward the center of the bed. His face buries without hesitation between your thighs, kissing, licking, breathing you in, as if he needed to taste you to survive.

Charles moves behind you, his gaze just as fiery as Carlos’s. He sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, settling you against him. His hands grip your thighs and spread them wider, leaving you completely exposed. He holds you there—open for Carlos—offering him the view of everything he’s about to devour.

“Fuck… you’ve got such a pretty pussy,” the Spaniard mutters, his tongue dragging slowly along the sides of your swollen folds, not slipping between them just yet. The way his breath hits you—hot and close—and the teasing swipe of his tongue has you moaning, already desperate for more.

Charles lowers his hand slowly, like he’s really enjoying every second. His fingers trace your soaked folds until you’re completely open. With two fingers shaped like a “V,” he gently parts your lips, showing your clit completely. “So pretty… and so damn wet,” he murmurs, rubbing it with his fingertip in slow circles, knowing exactly how to mess you up.

You’re a mess of moans. Your legs keep shaking as Carlos finally runs his tongue all over your pussy, from top to bottom, tasting you eagerly. He starts slow, enjoying every drop, every reaction from you. Then he circles your clit with his tongue, playing with it so perfectly it takes your breath away—right as Charles carefully pulls back the hood, exposing it even more with his fingertips.

You arch your back involuntarily, gasping, your head resting on Charles’s shoulder. Your moans spiral out of control, and that only seems to turn Carlos on even more. He’s completely hard, his cock pressing taut against the fabric of his pants as he strokes himself with one hand. With the other, he holds your thighs open, pushing his tongue deeper, seeking every sensitive spot inside you until you scream, unable to hold back.

The Monegasque catches you with a wild kiss, his tongue forcefully entering your mouth, as if he wants to possess you from there too, muffling your moans while the other devours you mercilessly, with his wet, hot tongue, desperate to make you tremble again.

Whether you come or not, tears are running down your cheeks from pure pleasure. They’re taking you so far that you don’t even know if you’re crying from how good it feels, from too much, or from something you can’t even put into words.

“Fuck… you’re so damn sensitive, mon amour,” Charles teases in your ear, his voice low and dripping with desire. Carlos looks up from between your legs, and you can see the satisfied shine in his eyes. He’s loving every single second.

“You and I both know you go crazy having a mouth between your legs,” he whispers from behind, brushing a strand of hair off your face with fake tenderness, as your head falls back, giving in on his shoulder. “And you know damn well how much we love eating you out for hours… until you break.”

His fingers close firmly around your nipples, twisting them, making you moan uncontrollably. Carlos doesn’t stop: his tongue moves mercilessly between your swollen folds, licking, sucking, pushing with the tip exactly where you need it most. He sends shivers through you with every movement, while Charles plays with your breasts, nibbling your neck, whispering dirty things in your ear.

The combination is brutal. Your body arches between them, trembling, moans escaping without restraint. You’re so close you can hardly think. The only thing that exists are their mouths, their hands, and that burning desire consuming you from within.

But before you could react, Carlos stopped completely. He left you hanging on the edge, burning, moans caught in your throat and your body trembling with unsatisfied desire. You fell against Charles’s chest, surrendered, sobbing, completely wrapped in the frustration of pleasure that never came.

They both laughed at you, mercilessly, enjoying seeing you like this: vulnerable, needy, desperate.

“Desperate slut,” Carlos murmured with a dirty smile before grabbing you firmly by the waist and spinning you around, placing you on your knees and hands, completely ready.

Your face was barely inches from Charles’ cock, so hard it throbbed in front of you, and so wet that a drop of pre-cum brushed your chin.

‘Fuck…’ he moaned, tracing the tip along your lips, marking them with his wetness, leaving a shiny trail on your chin. ‘I’ve been wanting to see you like this all week… on your knees, exactly where you belong.’

“I’ve been imagining how your pussy’s gonna feel for three months,” he growls, watching you shiver under his touch. “And if you squeeze like that with just your fingers… damn, I can’t wait to feel you all over.”

The younger of the two sinks all the way down your throat, making you choke out a moan. Your tongue moves desperately, licking every corner, while saliva gathers and drips down his cock, wet and shining. His hands tangle in your hair, gripping tightly to set the pace and take your mouth mercilessly. Your eyes fill with tears as you struggle to take it all in.

Behind you, the older one pushes his way between your soaked folds. He goes deep, and your walls wrap around him tightly, warm and narrow, swallowing every inch. You moan with ragged breath, but can barely make a sound with your mouth so full.

The image is so delicious that the Monegasque in front of you completely loses himself, entranced, and fucks your mouth with more hunger—faster, deeper.

“Guess she sucks it better than you, huh?” Carlos throws with a teasing grin, looking at Charles just to provoke him.

And as the words leave his mouth, he drives into you with savage force — so deep he slams right into that perfect, aching spot inside you with every thrust. The rhythm is relentless, merciless; you’re gasping for air, legs shaking uncontrollably, your whole body burning with heat. Moans catch in your throat, strangled and desperate, while flashes of white explode behind your eyelids.

Charles is just as far gone. His eyes stay locked on yours as his cock plunges into your mouth — wet, hungry, hot — fucking your mouth like he needs to consume you. He groans, shameless and rough, his sweat dripping from his forehead, veins bulging along his forearms as he holds you in place. His lips are parted, panting, completely at the mercy of your mouth.

And still, he laughs — low, breathless, like he’s got all the time in the world to ruin you.

“And guess what… you don’t fuck her like I do, mon amour.”

His tone is full of challenge, and it only makes everything burn hotter. Carlos thrusts harder, deeper, determined to prove the other wrong. He wants to show you that you’re no one else’s but his. And your body doesn’t fight it—clenching tight, trembling around him until it drains him completely.

You’re a mess. You cry, mouth full, as the orgasm shakes you so hard you feel like it’s breaking you from the inside. You can barely breathe, and amid that overwhelming pleasure, you feel Carlos coming inside you too, filling you up until his heat spills over your thighs.

Your cum mixes with Carlos’s inside you, filling you to the limit, so much that you start dripping uncontrollably. When Charles cum in your mouth as well, you do your best to swallow it all, though keeping your composure is hard. You’re completely wrecked, feeling used, surrendered, and consumed by both. You fall onto the mattress, your body trembling like a leaf, exhausted and vulnerable.

“What a beautiful mess,” Carlos says with a defiant smile. “So dirty and full.”

Carlos grabs Charles by the arm and pulls him firmly against his body. You turn around, lying on your back and still weak, while watching. Carlos lunges at Charles with a ravenous kiss, a tangle of tongues fighting for control, though it’s Carlos who dominates. His hands grip the Monegasque’s nape tightly, forcing him to surrender without protest.

The younger one pulls away, gasping with heavy breaths, but the other doesn’t let go of the back of his neck and pushes him hard between your legs, giving a clear order: to clean you up with his tongue.

He doesn’t stop. His tongue traces every inch of your open pussy, licking hungrily, seeking to erase every trace of cum, devouring you as if nothing else existed.

You’re so sensitive that tears spring to your eyes immediately, but that doesn’t stop him. His eyes, intense and beautiful, burn against your skin as they lock onto you with a mix of desire and fascination. His tongue cleans you up eagerly, exploring you and trying to soak up every corner. Carlos’s hand doesn’t leave his head, holding it gently while pressing it to sink even deeper.

The other hand slowly slid down to caress him, grazing his cock with a calculated slowness that made him feel tortured, unable to resist that sensation. “Keep going like that, baby…” he insisted in a firm voice, while a mix of desire and vulnerability made them feel on the verge of breaking, as if any movement could unleash everything.

“Carlos…” he moaned, his voice broken and heavy with desire, barely lifting his head while his mouth trembled, wet and eager. The slow pace was consuming him, like a torture that tore at his skin and set every nerve in his body on fire. His body screamed for intensity, for urgency, for a passion that slipped away with every passing second. “I can’t… keep like this… I need more…”

His hand quickens its movements, though only slightly. The scene amuses him: seeing him so desperate while you burn with need, longing to feel him between your thighs again. “You stop, I stop,” he warns in a firm voice, releasing him for just a second. “And you know I will.”

After that cruel threat, he buries his head against you with twice the force, driven by the certainty that his effort will be richly rewarded if he does it right. He feels you writhe beneath his weight, while your hand rests on Carlos’s; both press firmly, driving his head deeper and deeper against your pussy.

As he gives himself with force, Carlos responds with his hand, his movements faster and longer, tracing every inch. You feel the vibrations of Charles’s moans escaping between his lips, resonating against your skin, shaking you from within. That deep, low sound full of desire takes you straight to the edge, consuming you in an uncontrollable fire.

“That’s it, fuck. You take it so damn well… buen chico,” Carlos growls, his voice thick with desire as he watches his hand glide fast and firm along all of Charles’s cock. The heat under his palm, now soaked with precum, pulls a sly grin from him. He’s so close he can feel Charles’s shaky breath, the slight tremble in his thighs, and the wet, steady sound of his movements just turns him on even more.

He’s not the only one, because you can clearly feel your orgasm about to erupt on his tongue. Though focused on his own pleasure, he doesn’t lose rhythm or intensity; he licks you with ravenous precision, without pause, until you’re left completely dry and trembling.

And finally, you give in under his lips, surrendering completely. Your orgasm bursts against your stomach for the third time with an almost unfamiliar intensity — a wave that crashes through you and drags you under, leaving you completely wrecked, spent, and breathless, lying on the mattress that seems to hold every last sigh you let out.

With exhaustion still pulsing through your skin, you watch with sleepy eyes as the same thing happens to the Monegasque. He reaches his limit too, spilling into Carlos’s hand until he’s completely spent. Normally, his drive would push him to keep going, to stretch the moment a little longer, but this time fatigue wins. Carlos feels it right away, senses the subtle shift in his breathing, the looseness in his body. He gently turns, lying on his side to wrap his arms around him, pulling his vulnerable body close to his chest like he’s offering shelter and comfort.

He holds him with tenderness, whispering words of encouragement, telling him how well he did, his voice calm and full of admiration. That deep, quiet connection they shared seemed to form a world of its own — one that, for a moment, you felt you didn’t quite belong in.

Charles rests his head against Carlos’s chest, eyes closed, his face showing relief and comfort. The older one runs his fingers slowly through his hair, soft and careful, like he’s putting every piece of him back together. It was their silent after care ritual — a gesture full of care that spoke louder than a thousand words.

You, however, feel a wave of shyness and embarrassment rise in you, your cheeks flushing deep red. Being there, caught in the middle of something so intimate, makes you feel like an intruder — a misplaced detail in an otherwise perfect picture.

But then Carlos turns his gaze to you, and in his eyes you see something different — a warm, gentle smile that wraps around you without demand. He reaches out a hand and murmurs in a low, almost secretive voice, “Come here, cariño.” That simple invitation turns your blush into something softer — sweet and filled with emotion.

Without thinking twice, you let his free arm pull you in, resting your head on the open space of his chest, right beside Charles. The steady beat of his heart surrounds you with calm and safety, like a warm haven washing away any lingering fear or doubt. That mix of peace, tenderness, and connection settles into you — perfect and unrepeatable.

It was simply perfect.

[multicohn]

summary: the only thought lando had once the race was ended finding his partner ( and his family )

warnings: mentions of throwing up and the word d**k. one swear word. just wrote and posted

pairing: gn! reader x lando norris

genre: established relationship, fluff

author note: congrats to mclaren on winning! wish oscar had finished a bit higher, but guess we’ll see what happens next year

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

y/n can’t decide if they’re going to throw up, faint, or have a heart attack.

even though he stayed first, they still worried about what could possibly happen. what if lando crashed? what if a safety car was brought out? so many thoughts clouded their mind, but they wouldn’t get any answers unless it happened.

in times like these is when they wish they could see into the future.

lando had been quiet upset once he knew that first place in the drivers championship was over, but he was able to get over it by focussing on finishing second and aiming to win the constructors.

“this is like the worst two hours of my life” they mumbled while standing next to lando’s dad

“tell me about it” he was currently on his third bottle of water and y/n knew he would soon needed a fourth

lap after lap after lap.

the gap between lando and carlos was slowly getting further as they got closer to the end, but y/n couldn’t push their nerves away just yet.

they learned that nothing is certain until that checkered flag is waved.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

that might have been the worst two hours of y/n’s life.

they clutched as their chest as lando made his way towards the finish line. most of those in the garage ran out to the fence while everyone else shared hugs with teary eyes. y/n leaned against the wall before slowly following lando’s father out of the garage.

y/n patiently waited for lando who made sure he shook his hands or hugged everyone that was dressed in papaya orange. they adjusted their cap as he finally made spotted his dad who had a huge grin on his face.

he was flung into a bone crushing hug with whispers of supportive words. lando smiled with teary eyes before moving towards his partner who had looked away in respect for their privacy.

"y/n!" he called out, ignoring all the cameras that were around

"hi, honey" he embraced them tightly, feeling their hands rub and pat his back

"you did it! you fucking did it!" lando leaned away and stared into their eyes with such love and softness that no one has ever seen from him before

maybe it was a superstition, but lando always did better when y/n was around. he named them his lucky charm since he always received top results because of their presence. even when y/n wasn't with in person, he always carried something that reminded him of them.

lando had fallen in love, and it was obvious to everyone how much he adored y/n.

"i need to ask you something" his words were rushed since he knew they might not be together until later

"what's up?"

lando's dad raised an eyebrow as he watched his son take a deep breath.

"will you marry me?"

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

y/n had a lot to think about.

lando had been rushed away once he asked them to marry him, but quickly comforted them that they didn't have to answer him right away.

if y/n was shocked, his family was even more shocked.

they adored y/n and knew how much lando loved them, but they never would've thought he would pull something like this out of the blue.

hours passed since they last saw each other.

parties were thrown to not only congratulate him and the team, but also for everyone else. there were ones for ferrari, red bull, alpine, and all the drivers that will not be on the grid next year. y/n wasn't feeling up to partying so they went back to the hotel room they shared with lando.

he had texted them to ask what they wanted to do before sending a long paragraph that explained he had wanted to ask for their hand in marriage for awhile, but the timing was never right. he swore he would have asked even they didn't win today.

y/n had imagined how they would be proposed to and what their wedding would be like long before they started dating lando, but now being in a situation where it will come true left them breathless.

of course y/n would marry lando, but they were so in shock that they couldn't say or type anything.

"n/n?" y/n turned around to see lando in the clothes he had worn into the paddock along with an almost empty champagne bottle and his trophy

"i didn't hear you come in" he placed his things down and walked over to them while searching his pockets

a ring was soon in gasp and y/n only stared as he got on one knee before taking their hand.

"you know, i had a huge speech planned, but now i can't remember any of it, give me a sec" he cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and finally looked into their eyes

"y/n. words can't even begin to describe the love i feel for you. ever since we met, i feel like my world had gotten brighter. i know i can be a dick sometimes, and i'm so sorry for letting my emotions get the best of me sometimes. i honestly don't know how you've stuck with me through all of this. but i can never be more thankful and i can nor do i want to imagine what my life could be without you. through sickness and in health, though death will never make us part. will you do me in the honour of being called your fiancé and future husband?"

y/n sniffled with tears in their eyes, they knew they wouldn't be able to get any words out so they just nodded. lando slipped the ring onto their finger, grateful that it fit before reaching up to hug them tightly.

"i love you" he whispered

"i love you too" y/n managed to say through their sobs

not only did lando win first and helped his team take the constructors championship, but he also won the heart of his partner forever.

[dolcecherub]

only girl in the world ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

❀ pairing: oscar piastri x female reader

❀ tags: op81, dirty talk, nonchalant oscar lol, pining, smut, unprotected sex, miami gp, jealous oscar, start of relationship, mild usage of y/n, 18+

❀ yap: this is my first time writing for oscar as well as any f1 setting so lmk any feedback y’all have but i had so much fun writing this and i hope y’all like it!!

❀ very loosely based on the lyrics "I wanna make you beg for it Then I'ma make you swallow your pride," by Rihanna

❀ word count: 6.1k

The paddock was bustling with pre-sprint quali nerves and excitement, the Miami heat beating viciously. You sent a cheerful smile to Ollie, who walked past quickly, seemingly trying to get ready before he got in trouble. You let out an amused huff at the rookie’s antics and continued your way to the McLaren team area. Grabbing a stray biscuit from the various platters set up around the booth, you pulled your phone out from your pocket to check for any new messages or updates. Snacking on your biscuit, you wiped your hands on your jeans, making a mental note to respond to the few brand promotions that had come through.

It had been just over a year and a half since you had joined the McLaren team, aiding with PR and social media management. It was one hell of a journey, but you vividly remember your excitement after receiving the confirmation email that you had gotten the job for McLaren’s social media team. So many weeks of cup noodle dinners and managing marketing for smaller driving companies, but it had all been worth this exact moment. Basking in the sun before the Miami race weekend, working with people who were nothing but welcoming, frankly, it warmed your heart.

You felt an arm aggressively throw itself over your shoulders, causing you to jolt forward a bit in shock as you turned to see who it might be. Seeing Lando’s beaming smile staring down at you settled your nerves as you returned a grin. “Hi Lando, how was your week?’ You asked, placing a hand on his back in a friendly manner. You had grown quite close with both of the McLaren drivers, being able to have hours of laughter with Lando. Setting foot on the Formula 1 scene, similar to when Oscar had, allowed you two to grow close as well; however, he was far less touchy than Lando, less chatty, and less expressive. The more you thought about it, perhaps he didn’t actually like you as much as you thought.

You shook your head, ridding yourself of that thought, as Lando responded, “Not bad, y/n, excited for the weekend. Happy to be catching a tan,” He says with a laugh. You snorted, always shocked at how easily Lando managed to tan. It did wonders for him, not that he wasn’t already handsome, frankly, both the McLaren boys were. “I wish I could tan half as well as you do, imagine me all sun-kissed.” You joked, swishing your hair sarcastically as Lando laughed. “At least you’ve got a better tan going than Oscar, man's still as pale as he is in the winter,” Lando jokes, loudly enough that it catches Oscar’s attention from just around the corner of the booth. “Heard that mate, watch it!” Oscar yelled back before returning to his conversation with an engineer.

Oscar was wearing a simple pair of black shorts with the McLaren jersey clinging to his fit frame. His hair sat neatly and soft, freshly cut from what you could tell. His arms were crossed, brows furrowed from the sun as he conversed, nodding along every now and then with a small smile.

It was the first time you had seen him this weekend, and your breath hitched a little, something that became increasingly common as you saw in the last few months. You’re not quite sure when it began, presumably sometime at the end of the 2024 season. You recall the end of the 2024 season, although neither driver had won the championship, McLaren itself winning the Constructors’ Championship called for celebration. Watching calm and collected Oscar drunkenly ramble and giggle to Lando seemed endearing. His cheeks flushed at his intoxication and warmth in the air, hair tousled from trying to keep it out of his face. He looked beautiful, you thought, nursing a drink. You locked eyes with Oscar as he slung an arm around Lando, shooting you a winning smile, lopsided and sheepish as he winked. Since then, you’ve been a lost cause. Stealing glances at him around the paddock, cheering a little louder when he wins a race, feeling your heart speed up when he’s in high-stress situations. It needed to stop, this infatuation needed to be dealt with before it became too much. Of course, Oscar wasn’t interested like that. Just friendly.

You returned your attention to Lando and continued with light conversation before both the McLaren boys were swept away for pre-race interviews. You checked your wristwatch, seeing the clock push just over 4:00 as the drivers began making their way into their garages and putting on their suits. You chatted with another crew member moving towards the garages yourselves, as media teams bustled around the booths.

Your eyes landed yet again on Oscar, pulling on his black balaclava, biceps bulging as his race suit hung folded off his hips. You felt your heart speed up at the sight, his muscles rigid through his clothing. Your mind drifts to the thought of your nails scratching down Oscar’s back or grabbing his biceps as he hovers over you. You hadn’t realized how long you had been staring till his eyes caught yours, dark and focused. You looked away quickly, cheeks surely flushing pink as you tried to resort to casual conversation elsewhere.

☆.｡.:*

Sprint qualifying was definitely one for the books. You felt quite happy for Kimi and were excited for the McLaren drivers following. The hour following sprint qualifying was filled with interviewers hounding Lando and Oscar while attempting to update the media for McLaren accounts themselves. Excitement flowed through you at the liveliness of the Miami weekend, and you had high hopes for the boys this weekend.

You heard your stomach growl loudly, departing with the team begrudgingly as another team member insisted they would be able to finish up any media engagement necessary. Walking back towards the hotel, you pulled out your phone, checking any notifications before mindlessly scrolling through stories.

Dinner was short and sweet, chowing down a hearty bowl of pasta and nursing a glass of red wine from a local restaurant neighbouring the hotel. The walk back was beautiful, lights lining the streets and palm trees as the warm breeze comforted your skin, salt in the air heightening your senses.

Entering the hotel lobby, you headed towards the elevator, brushing your fingers through your hair, detangling any knots. A ding notified you that you reached your floor. Walking out, you fumbled around in your bag for your key card, walking towards your room. You heard footsteps approaching and looked up, catching sight of Oscar leaving his room, conveniently next to yours. You flashed him a smile as he glanced at you, returning the grin. The distance between you two grew smaller as you spoke. “Congratulations today.” You said to him, pausing in front of your hotel room. “Thank you,” He said, voice low and appreciative. The air seemed tense as your nerves settled. You fumbled to regrab your key card before facing the door. “Hopefully tomorrow’s even better, I’m expecting it.” You joked, flashing a small grin as you grabbed the door handle, turning your head towards him. He smirked, letting out a small chuckle, and you felt a sense of accomplishment. “I’ll do my best for you, yeah?” He teased back, your heart speeding up at his tone. You swiped your key card, turning the handle and opening the door. “Goodnight, Oscar.” You spoke lightly, sparing him one last glance. “Goodnight, y/n.” He said, walking away towards the elevator.

Closing the door, you bit your lip, dropping your bag near the entrance. You shook your head. You couldn’t possibly be smitten by such a short interaction with a man who surely didn’t think twice about you. Grabbing a pair of pyjamas, you snuck in a quick shower, and prepared yourself for bed. Climbing into bed, you set an alarm for the morning before cozying up and drifting off to sleep with the smell of salty air.

☆.｡.:* sunday - race day ☆.｡.:*

Saturday had gone well for the team, the McLaren boys scoring a double podium on the Miami sprint. You remember cheering loudly, seeing Oscar send you a grin following his podium. You giggled at the subtlety of it and continued celebrating the extra points. Race qualifying had ended well for Lando and a little less exciting for Oscar, but still great overall, sending them both a thumbs up in passing as you were whisked away into posting and media management with the team.

Sunday was going well so far, pre-race nerves definitely settling into some drivers despite the excitement of Miami. Engagement was fantastic, better than it had been in months, at least you were doing your job right, you thought sarcastically. Clouds had begun moving in but you had hoped they would split and avoid any rain and dangerous conditions.

The race itself was nerve-wracking and exciting, watching Oscar overtake Max with such confidence was riveting. The cheers from the paddock were undeniably loud as Oscar and Lando finished the race with yet again a 1-2 double podium. The Miami weekend had been a wonder for the McLaren team, and the team was bound to want to celebrate the wins. Interviews ensued with posts making appearances from all teams and drivers. You let out an embarrassing snort watching Oscar attempt the griddy, fulfilling his promise to Justin Jefferson. You were certainly going to tease him about that later.

As the excitement settled, you heard chatter of the team deciding where and how to celebrate the double 1-2 podiums and points from the weekend. Leave Miami with a bang. You snuck away into a more secluded section of the paddock, sipping water as you scrolled your phone, needing some time away.

“Did I meet your expectations?” A familiar voice teased. You felt the presence behind you as you shivered slightly despite the warm air. You turned slightly, causing your body to lean into his. Sending a teasing smile back, you spoke, “I’d say so, Osc, congratulations, especially on the three in a row.” Although it began teasingly, you were sincere in your praise. His smile softened, eyes fluttering happily. “Thanks,‘ppreciate it.”

“Gonna come out and celebrate with us, hm?” You asked, hopeful, eyes running over his face as he looked at you. “Yeah, probably gonna jump in the shower first, but might as well celebrate such a good weekend in Miami.” He chuckled out, a low rumble that warmed your chest. “Perfect, I’ll see you out then.” You winked, gaining a surge of confidence before walking away back towards the larger team huddled up.

☆.｡.:*

You bent over the bathroom counter, bringing your face closer to the mirror. A brown lip liner steady in hand as you lined your lips. You had tugged on the singular party outfit you had brought for the weekend, a simple navy lace top paired with a denim mini skirt. You layered necklaces and bracelets to accessorize a bit while keeping the makeup a bit simpler, with smoky liner and a dark lip. You had left your hair as it naturally dried, touching it up a little with your fingers. Another one of the girls on the team had lent you a pair of black knee-high boots, claiming it would complement the outfit perfectly. You had to admit it made your thighs look killer. Applying a bit of gloss and spritzing perfume, you grabbed your essentials before heading out of the room.

The team had decided on a club just a few blocks away from the hotel, making transport quite easy. You laughed with the team, enjoying the relaxed vibe compared to the intensity of the weekend. The club was busier than you had expected, but you had immediately spotted Lando near the bar. Walking closer, you noticed Oscar nursing a drink next to him, laughing at a joke Lando had made.

Placing a hand on his back, you stood a little taller, loudly congratulating Lando on his podium with a smile. He smiles back and offers a shot, which you down quickly, noticing Oscar’s gaze run down your throat as you tip the drink back, eyes dark. Your body shuddered before requesting another shot. Downing that, you returned to a few of the other girls on the dance floor and joined in.

Drinks came and went as you continued dancing, your mind feeling fuzzier. The bass reverberates in your chest, grounding you slightly.

♪baby I’ma say your aura is incredible♪

♪if you don’t have to go, don’t♪

Hands brushed your waist as you pulled yourself closer to the body, feeling drawn to the warmth, mind fuzzy with need.

♪do you know what you started? I just came here to party♪

Pushing yourself back against the body, his hands grabbed your waist, slowly sliding further down towards your hips. You reached a hand up, grabbing his neck, back flush with his chest as your head lulled back a bit.

♪but now we’re rockin’ on the dance floor, actin’ naughty♪

♪your hands around my waist, just let the music play♪

Swaying your hips, you spun your body around, arms going up around his neck as his hands tightened on your hips, chests pressed flush together. For the first time, you can see the face of the man you’re dancing with. He was handsome, slightly taller than you, with blue eyes intent on your face as his blond hair dropped in strands over his forehead.

♪we’re hand in hand, chest to chest, and now we’re face to face♪

You bite your lip as his eyes follow the movement, eyes alight with desire. You continue to dance with him as he leans his head down, mouth close to your ear. You glance over his shoulder, his chest incessantly pressing against yours, as your eyes lock with Oscar’s a few feet away. His expression is neutral, but you see his jaw tick as his eyes zero in on the man's hands. The man is whispering something to you, and your body shivers. Not from what he had said, but rather how Oscar was looking at you.

“...d’you say?” You heard the man ask, not quite catching the first part of his question. “Sorry?” You said, breathlessly, bringing your attention back to his face. “Really are drunk aren’t you babe,” He teased, your mouth souring at the nickname. “Asked if you wanted to leave this place.” He reiterated, his hand grabbing your ass as he smirked. You slid your hands off his shoulders and took a quick step back, stumbling slightly. Shaking your head, “No, I-I’m good, thanks.” You hiccuped out, he rolled his eyes, hands pushing you off, suddenly offended at your reaction. Clicking his teeth with his tongue, he walked away towards the bar. You felt a sense of relief at his reaction, grateful it wasn’t worse.

Your eyes followed him, noticing a lack of Oscar near the bar. You scanned the club, trying to find him and failing. You took a breath, your head feeling dizzy from the drinks, as you decided it was probably time to head back to the hotel. Leaving the club, the fresh air did well to steady the fuzziness a little as you stumbled back towards the hotel.

You rummaged through your bag for your key card as you rode the elevator. Reaching your door, you swiped the key card and tried turning the handle. A red flash appeared, signalling you to try again, and so you did. Again, the handle refused to turn. Frustratedly, you tried again, swiping the key card slowly before jiggling the handle angrily. Your toes slightly hurt from the boots, your mind still a bit blurry, but far more sober than before. You let out an annoyed huff as the door swung open. You took a step back, eyes widening, your head whipped to the next door, and you read the number, realizing you had been trying to open the wrong door. Your head turned back to the person who opened the door.

Of course. It was comedic, really.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, voice low and seemingly tired. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I-,” You stuttered, cheeks flushing a bit in embarrassment as his arms crossed over his chest. “Congratulations today, you were incredible out there.” You spoke truthfully, unsure of what to say.

“Like you actually care,” He scoffed, grabbing the handle to the door. Your brows furrowed at his words. What was he talking about? “Seemed quite busy celebrating my win.” He said sourly. “What are you talking about?” You asked, confused.

“Surprised he didn’t come home with you.” Pondering for a second before it clicked. He was talking about the guy from the club, “We were dancing.” You laughed out, smiling. “You were all over him, enjoying yourself.” Oscar’s expression was stone-cold. “And you looked like a child sulking in the corner.” You snapped, “So I guess we both saw what we wanted.”

That hit, jaw clenching as he looked away. You took a step forward. “Why do you care who I spend my time with? You can’t spend all season avoiding me and acting like I don’t exist, and then get jealous over me. Who do you think you are?” You snapped, cheeks flushing with anger.

He ran a hand over his face, exhaling. You kept going, your thoughts spewing out at a mile a minute. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you all season, I’ve tried to get along with you, and you look like you want nothing to do with me. So what!? You basically avoid me all season til some guy puts his hands on me an-”

“Fuck’s sake, I like you!” Oscar exclaimed exasperatedly, interrupting your tangent. It was like a bucket of ice water showering your body. Your mouth shut quickly, opening again to say something, but no words formed.

“I- fuck, forget it. You’re drunk.” He ran a hand through his hair, tousling the already messy locks.

“I’m not, not like I was.” You emphasized.

“Go back to your room y/n,” Oscar spoke sternly, looking away.

“Did you mean it?” You asked, your voice quiet compared to your outburst. He stayed silent, eyes scanning your face as your heart dropped to your stomach. You bit your lip nervously, his eyes following the movement wantonly.

You took a breath, lowering your gaze. “Either you tell me you meant it and say it again, or I leave and we never have to talk about this again.” You posed, his eyes locking in on your eyes.

His silence is your answer. You turn to walk next door, chest aching.

It all happens quite fast.

Oscar grabs your wrist, pulling you back as he steps forward, his lips landing on yours. You freeze up for a second as his lips move. Dropping your purse, you stand a bit taller, wrapping your arms around his neck, reciprocating the fervour of his kiss. His arms snake around your waist, leaning into the kiss as if he’s been starved. His teeth nibble your bottom lip before his tongue pokes out, running over your bottom lip, soothing the bite.

You pull back from the kiss, letting out a sigh, his face still close to yours. His cheeks are flushed as he catches his breath, leaning his forehead on yours and closing his eyes. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears.

“Osc…” You whispered, his arms pulling you impossibly closer as if you'd disappear.

“I’ve liked you since my first grand prix win, when you yelled louder than anyone on the team and raced around the paddock congratulating and thanking everyone.” Your breath hitched, the 2024 Hungarian Grand Prix, which was months ago. He ran his tongue over his lips, eyes opening to catch yours.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You asked breathlessly, not wanting to break the intimacy of the moment.

“What could I have said? you’re on the team I didn’t wanna ruin anything, and surely you’re going to regret this in the morning so actually I’ve just fucked everything.” He rambled. Your heart leapt, his usual calm and collected demeanour replaced by one of vulnerability. Your heart ached with excitement.

“So you were avoidant and acted like a dick because you liked me?” You laughed out, finding the mere circumstance of it outrageous. He nodded solemnly, “You’re such a boy!” You teased, turning around and shutting the door to the hotel room with a slight slam. His arms tightened subconsciously.

“I’m not going anywhere, Osc, I promise.” You placed a light kiss on his cheek before bringing your mouth close to his ear. “I like you too, you know.” You whispered.

Leaning back, you looked at him, “I’ve thought about you more than I’d like to admit.”

You can see him smirk, finding pride in your confession as your body pressed against his. Although he’s smirking, he still seems shy, “Yeah?”

You nod, biting your lip before placing your lips back on his, missing the feeling. He kisses back with hunger, one hand coming up to cup your face and the other squeezing your hip. You reach a hand up from his shoulders into the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging gently as he groans. His thumb reaches slightly, pulling your chin, your lips parting to allow his tongue to slide against yours. You let out a whimper at the action, scratching your nails lightly against his scalp. His hand slid up your waist, breaching the edge of your top and grabbing you closer.

His lips trailed down, kissing your jaw and down towards your neck, suckling lightly and nibbling while soothing the sting with his tongue, placing a kiss on the mark. He scraped his teeth along your neck, placing soft kisses, his breath heavy as you let out a whine. You toed off the painful boots, pushing them to the side as you lost a few inches in height. Oscar looked at you, lips red and bitten, your eyes were blown out from desire as you tugged his shirt.

“Fuck, y/n. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted you like this.” He groaned into your neck. “If we do this, that’s that, I’m not letting you go.”

“Let me be yours, Oscar.” You spoke, tugging at his hair.

It was as if a switch had flipped inside of him, and any restraint he had completely vanished. Pulling back, he nudged your body towards the bed, getting the hint, you walked towards the bed. Oscar walked the other way, much to your dismay, locking the door and bringing your purse closer to the nightstand. The gesture warming your heart despite the frown on your face.

“I’m coming, baby,” He reassured, walking closer and pushing you back onto the bed as you got comfy.

“Not yet,” You joked, giggling as he let out a chuckle.

Oscar hovered over you, hands beside your head, propping himself up, scanning your face, he placed a delicate kiss on your lips. “You’re beautiful.”

Your heart sped up at the compliment, cheeks surely redder than ever before. Your hands reached up to grab his face, one reaching around his neck to pull him closer. He sprinkled light kisses all over your face and a few more on your lips as you giggled, Oscar’s smile wide.

“I hated seeing his hands on you. I wanted to punch him for even looking at you, but how could I blame him? Look at you.” He confessed, eyes roaming over your body, bare thighs suddenly feeling very exposed.

You pulled Oscar down, placing your lips back onto his with a slow intensity far different from before. He licked into your mouth, tongues tangling together with hunger. Want filled your body as your hand wandered over the expanse of his chest, the other tugging his hair, his teeth tugging your lip. Your hand reached the edge of his shirt, pushing it up and feeling his abs as you whimpered. Oscar detaches himself, sitting up a little to throw off his shirt, grabbing the edges and pulling it up over his head before dropping it somewhere off the bed. Leaning back down, his hand slid across your waist, gripping your hip, your hands sliding across his chest and back up into his hair.

His lips crashed onto yours, hot and hungry, tongues sliding together. Tugging his hair, you lifted a leg onto his hip, pulling his body closer to yours.

Oscar groaned when you tugged on his hair, his body responding immediately, his hips involuntarily grinding into yours.

He groaned again, the sound low and primal as he felt you whimper against his lips. He wanted to make you squirm and whine like that all night long, he wanted to hear the noises you could make for him. He pulled back from the kiss only to move down to your neck, his lips and teeth nipping your skin, his breath hot against you.

His hand reached towards the button of your denim skirt, tongue still licking over yours. “May I?”

“Please,” You whimpered. Unbuttoning your skirt, he slides it off your legs smoothly, running his hands gently back up your thighs before squeezing, leaning back down to kiss you.

His lips roamed down, hands sliding up the edge of your lace top, pushing it up. You leaned your head back as his tongue suckled another mark onto your collarbone. Your skin felt hot, fire blazing wherever his lips trailed as he peered up at you hungrily. Your hand tangling into his hair, tugging wantingly as he groans against your neck.

He grabs the edges of your shirt, pulling it up and off your body, tossing it to the side carelessly as his mouth eagerly lands on the swell of your breast. His mouth lingers, leaving marks scattered across your top half, his teeth grazing your body teasingly. “Oscar.” You whimpered, breathless as his hand grabbed the cup of your bra, tugging it down, mouth latching onto your nipple. Tongue flicking and swirling teasingly as you writhe, his other hand gripping onto your hips harshly. You let out a moan, back arching as his teeth graze your nipple, tongue soothing the slight sting. Oscar’s hand slides up your hip, past your ribs, towards your back, reaching for the clasp. In one single motion, his fingers flick the clasp open, tugging the straps off your arms and entirely off your body.

“Greedy.” You whispered, Oscar chuckled darkly, his finger brushing over your nipples as you moaned. You can feel his bulge pressed against your thigh, hips grinding into you. Your hands trailed down his body, hand rubbing against his length, Oscar groaning at the contact. Unbuttoning his shorts, you try to push them, fumbling as his mouth continues to roam your body. Placing a gentle kiss on your breast, he stands up, sliding his shorts off the rest of the way before repositioning himself on top of you, lips placing a delicate kiss on your navel.

Oscar’s hands grab your thighs, pushing them apart, placing fluttering kisses on your thigh as you squirm. “You drive me crazy,” he mumbles, leaving sloppy kisses toward your core. He looks up at you through his eyelashes, dark and hungry as he places a wet kiss on your clit over your panties, blushing at how soaked through you are. His hand holds your thigh open, thumb rubbing over your wet heat lightly, making you whimper.

He pushes your panties aside, holding them tight as he licked along your slit. “Hold these to the side for me, baby,” Oscar instructed, voice husky as your hand reached down to hold them aside. His hands left marks at how tightly they were gripping you, your back arching to try and get more of his mouth, you can feel him smirk between your thighs as he places a kiss to your clit and suckling it as you moan. His tongue swirls around, tasting you feverishly.

His fingers slide up, teasing your hole as his tongue teases your pussy, your head spinning at the sensations. “Oscar, please…” You whimpered, hand reaching into his hair and tugging. Oscar slides a finger in, his tongue lapping at you as you whine, loving the stretch of his fingers. He can’t help but grind his throbbing cock into the mattress to relieve the ache, watching you fall apart because of him. He pumps his finger slowly, tongue flicking your clit as you writhe, his groans vibrating into you.

“Can you take another darling?” Oscar asks, checking you’re okay before continuing. Nodding wildly, you beg breathlessly, “Please.” You moan, looking down at him. He slips in another finger, pumping slowly, his tongue lapping greedily around your hole, his nose effectively nuzzling your clit, making your head spin.

“Fuck,” You whine out, a knot building in your stomach, his fingers pumping faster. “Osc-Oscar I’m gonna cum,” You whimper out, feeling yourself nearly come apart. Almost as soon as you said it, his fingers stopped, tongue delivering one last lick. You whined as he pulled away, missing the stretch of his fingers. Your hand slips out of his hair, your body shaking, his eyes running over your body admiringly.

“You taste so good, sweet girl,” He murmurs between kisses, trailing back up your body, finally reaching your lips. He kisses you slowly, letting you taste yourself on his tongue as you clench around nothing. His tongue slides across yours, his cock pressing into your thigh, throbbing.

You trail a hand down his body, scratching lightly before your fingers edge into his boxers, feeling his length. He grabs your legs, pushing them together and sliding your panties off your legs, tossing them aside before doing the same with his boxers, before climbing back on top of you and placing himself between your thighs. You shiver at his hands sliding across your body, one hand tweaking your nipple as your eyes fall to his length. Oscar watches you bite your lip, eyeing his cock wantingly. He was big, and your heart sped up, a little nervous.

His hand slips up, wrapping itself around your throat, forcing you to look back up at him, “You can take it, baby, for me, yeah?” Wanting to make him feel good, you nod, your body filled with desire.

Kissing you once, he smiles down at you, admiring your flushed face and glassy eyes. He grabs his length, pumping himself a few times, spreading his pre-cum down his length. He slides himself between your folds teasingly, coating himself in your wetness as you whimper. He lets go of your throat, placing his hand next to your head and leaning over you as he begins sliding in. Your hand grabs his bicep, the other brushing your breast and teasing it as Oscar fucks in his tip. You throw your leg over his hip, pushing him forward, silently asking for more. He slides in further, a delicious stretch, his eyes following the motion as your pussy wraps around him perfectly.

“You’re so fucking tight,” He groans, head dropping to your shoulder as he slides in to the hilt, hips flush with yours. You slide your hands to his back, nails digging into his back as he pulls out almost completely before sliding back in slowly.

You whimper at the drag, loving how well he fills you. “You take me so well baby, look at you, fuck.” He groans, lips trailing your neck sloppily. His hips speed up, the sound of skin slapping becoming louder as you moan. “Like this pussy was made for me,” Your mind dizzied at how he was talking to you. His hand reached down, thumb rubbing across your clit as he fucked you. His teeth grazed your collarbone, hands gripping your hips, pulling your body into his. He straightens up, fingers digging into your hips as he rhythmically fucks into you before slowly dragging himself out, you whine at the loss.

He grabs his length, slapping his length onto your clit, fucking only his tip into you, lightly teasing you. You whine at his teasing, needing more. “Oscar, please…” You whimper, clenching around him every time he slips in. He savoured the way you begged for him, “Sweet girl, c’mon, beg for it then.” He spoke darkly, revelling in your neediness.

“F-fuck off, you’re playing games, Osc, just keep g-going.” You whined, trying to maintain a sense of pride as he slowly fucked you, teasing drags in and out. “I could stop right now, darling, and you could sort yourself out,” He threatened teasingly, nearly sliding out completely. Your mind went fuzzy with need, swallowing your pride as his lips suckled yet another mark onto your tits. “Please Oscar, fuck I-I please, I need it.” With that, his hips sped up, fucking into you like he craved it.

“Yes fuck oh my god,” You moaned out, pussy clenching around him as he groaned. The sound of wet skin slapping against each other fills the room, feeling naughty. You felt a knot form in your stomach as his tip hit a spot inside of you, making your body convulse. “Fuck right there!” You moaned loudly, his lips falling onto yours to swallow your moans as he continued. “Shit Osc I’m so close, please,” you begged, asking him for release.

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me sweet girl? Look so good like this, your pussy was made for me darling,” Oscar teased, his words making your body flush. Your stomach tightened, clenching around him as his thumb teasingly rubs your clit. His hips continued fucking into you as you came, your body clenching around him nearly blacking out. “That’s it baby, fuck.” His hips faltered a little, feeling you fall apart for him, his cock throbbed, close to his own orgasm as well.

“Gonna make me cum sweetheart? Gonna let me fill up that sweet pussy? C’mon baby,” He groaned loudly, your body overstimulated and tears brimming your eyes, but craving to make him feel good. You knowingly tighten around him as his abs clench, “Please, Osc, give it to me,” You begged, wanting to feel him. Scratching his back, Oscar’s hips stutter as he lets go, groaning as he fills you up, forehead falling to yours. “Fuck y/n… you’re everything., letting me use that sweet little pussy.”

You smile slightly at his words, head dizzy from your release and feeling him fill you up so intimately. He pulls out gently, placing a sweet kiss on your lips, “Sweet girl,” he murmured, slipping out as he watches his cum drip out of your hole in a filthy manner. He grabs your thighs, holding them open, savouring the sight as you flush with embarrassment.

“Fucking hell, never gonna get sick of this,” He groaned, your heart fluttering at the insinuation of staying with him. “I’m gonna grab a cloth, okay, sweetheart?” He reassured, squeezing your thigh gently before getting up and walking to the washroom, grabbing a small towel and wetting it to clean you both up.

As he came back, his eyes landed on your actions, hand between your thighs as you pushed his release back into you before popping your fingers into your mouth, tasting him and whimpering. His eyes darkened, hand grabbing your thighs to clean between them before cleaning himself up as well. “You’re insane,” he teased, tossing the towel alongside his other dirty laundry.

Grabbing the blanket, he pushes it up onto your body before sliding in beside you, arms instinctively wrapping around you, pulling your body closer. You slide a leg up onto his hip, looking at him, suddenly feeling fairly shy.

“You okay?” Oscar asks genuinely. You nod, kissing him lightly, his lips chasing yours for more as you pull away. Your hands lay flat on his chest, and he kisses your face, making you giggle.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about all of this,” He confesses, eyes sparkling in delight.

“Did I meet your expectations?” You teased, reciting what you had said to him after the race. He chuckled at your antics, “Yeah, more than I could’ve ever imagined.” He took a breath before continuing, “and now I get to have you like this always,” He says hesitantly, unsure of your response.

You smile at him lovingly, “Yeah, Osc, I’m here to stay. All yours,” You murmur, heart fluttering at the way he’s looking at you.

“Perfect, don’t think I could take any more time without you,” He confesses quietly, “You’re perfect, only girl that matters.” He compliments, smiling bigger than you have ever seen him.

“You’re cute,” You giggled, hands sliding to play with his hair as his eyes shut, feeling content.

Perhaps everything did work out the way it was meant to.

[twirlyleafs]

Finally

Lando Norris x McLaren worker! Reader

Summary: McLaren won. The 2024 seasons has come to an end and McLaren won the championship. You and Lando find yourselves at the team party, reminiscing about the grueling past year.

Notes: I needed some time to collect myself bc my team fucking won and I’ve been on cloud nine. Here’s a dream I had lol.

~~~~

The McLaren headquarters buzzed with conversations and laughter. The larger party, with sponsors and media, was still a few hours away and for the moment you just enjoyed being surrounded by the team. Your team. After a season like this it felt deserved to really celebrate. McLaren had clinched the Constructors Championship in the final race, both Oscar and Lando had secured their first wins and Lando had managed to claim a second place in the drivers championship. The journey had been nothing short of incredible and as one of Mclarens leading strategists you couldn’t be prouder. Adding the fact that you were, outside of your roll on the McLaren team, also girlfriend of their golden boy Mr. Lando Norris you were also filled with a sense of pride for him that you couldn’t even begin to describe. You and Lando had been together for almost three years now, you’d only worked at McLaren for a few months when he asked you out and since then the two of you had been more or less inseparable.

Now you stood near at display of trophies, chatting with some of the mechanics about the highs and lows of the season. Lando was across the large hall, deep in conversation with Andrea Stella and a few others. Even from where you stood you could see the giant grin on his face as his hands waves around animatedly. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to keep your distance at work gatherings, even though everyone on the team knew about your relationship. It had, however, taken them more than a year to figure it out since you and Lando always made an effort to remain professional during work hours. Now, though, with the season wrapped up and the stakes momentarily lowered there was an ease in the air, a sense of relief that made everything seem lighter. You caught Landos gaze across the room and for a moment the buzz around you faded. His eyes held yours, soft and full of unspoken emotion, until he was eventually pulled back to his conversation. The warm of his gaze lingered even as he directed his attention elsewhere and you couldn’t help but smile.

Barely a few seconds later your attention was pulled to the stage, the sound of a crackling microphone and the clinking off glass filling the room. You and the others let out soft laughs as you laid eyes on Zac Brown, wide smile on his face and a champagne flute in hand.

”Alright, alright let’s settle down.” His tone was light but commanding, like so often he had a way of making everyone actually want to listen. ”I will keep this short because I know we have a long night ahead of us with different, quite honestly, boring speeches but I just felt I needed to take a moment.” The room broke into murmurs of agreement and soft applause before falling silent again. Zac took a deep breath. ”What a season. Wow. What a year, huh? Two first-time race winners, the championship, Lando coming in second in the drivers…we have- you have all worked your asses off and it’s together we’ve made this possible. This team is something so special and it’s all thanks to you. All of you.” As Zac spoke you felt a shift behind you and then the familiar warmth of a chest against your back. You didn’t need to turn around, not when he so naturally found your hips, pressing his fingers into your soft skin as you relaxed back against him. Lando brushed his lips against the top of your head, a fleeting yet tender gesture that had your heart swell. For a moment you forgot to listen to Zac, your focus only on the grounding warmth of Lando behind you. Your haze snapped back up to the man on the stage when he shifted tone.

”And to Lando and Oscar,” he raised his glass and you couldn’t help but smile when you felt Lando inhale deeply. ”You two have made history this year. You’ve both grown so much and will continue to do so. The future is bright, papaya bright, and I can’t wait to see where it takes us.” Cheers erupted from the whole team and you too raised your hands to applaud. Some people whistled loudly, others shouted celebrations, and you simply enjoyed it. As it all slowly died down Zac spoke again, this time the proud grin on his face replaced by a mischievous smile. ”Before we get back to celebrating I have just one thing I want to show you, a small video our PR-team has worked on that will only be shown in this room. This is for you, the team, and only for you. Enjoy.” As he stepped back the whole room dimmed and curious murmurs swept through it. The bright McLaren logo appeared briefly on the large screen before it transitioned into a montage of clips from the season. Laughter rippled through the crowd as the first few moments showed Oscar and Lando engaging in a ridiculous game of rock-paper-scissors that somehow turned into a wrestling match. More pranks were shown, like hidden helmets and jump scares. There was one clip of one of the mechanics, Teddy, hiding behind a stack of tyres before jumping forward to scare you and your colleague. Lando laughed loudly when he saw the way you screamed on the screen. You smiled too, shaking your head at the memory of the endless pranks, but you also focused on the subtle shifts in Lando now. The way his body vibrated with chuckles and how his grip on your hips tightened from time to time. Once or twice he dropped his forehead to the top of yours, hiding away in embarrassment. The next clip was from the weekend in Brazil, showing a bunch of McLaren employees running around in the rain before zooming in on you. You were stood hiding under an awning, arms wrapped around yourself and headset slightly askew. The pout on your face suddenly melted into a warm smile and a second later Lando came into frame, hurriedly making his way in under the safety of the awning. You felt Landos fingers press into your skin, his lips brushing the top of your head as the video showed him steal a quick kiss from you before handing you a steaming cup of what you remembered was hot chocolate he had stolen from the Ferrari hospitality.

”I didn’t know they caught that.” You felt his hushed words behind you, smiling sheepishly at the people around you offering teasing grins. Suddenly the mood of the video shifted, transitioning to show Miami. Landos first win. He tensed behind you and as the roar of the crowd in the room mirrored those shown on the video you could practically feel the pride radiating of him. As you all rewatched him cross the finish line his grip on you loosened and you knew he was thinking back on that day. You couldn’t help but do too, mind beginning to wander. That weekend had been a blur of tension and triumph, of long hours and high stakes, of watching him push himself to the limit and come out victorious. You remembered the way the garage erupted in cheers, the way he’d stumbled into your arms afterward, his helmet still on, his voice cracking with disbelief. Your chest tightened as you thought back on everything leading up to that moment. The late nights spent together, just you, him and the data. All the fights you had when he was being stubbornly hard on himself or all the times you celebrated the small victories together. Your vision blurred as the pride you felt for him settled in your whole body and you blinked rapidly to try and keep the tears at bay. The video on the big screen moved on to show Oscars first win too but you barely even registered it. Not until you felt Lando lean down, lips close to your ear.

”Do you remember-” he began with a soft smile, voice low enough for only you to hear, but paused. He noted the way your hand swept across your cheek and the way you blinked a little too much and he couldn’t help his smile widening. ”Are you- baby are you crying?”

”It’s the music, okay?” You sniffed, letting out a soft chuckle as you did so. ”And it’s been a big year.”

”Uh-huh.” Lando murmured teasingly, although you were pretty sure you heard his own voice waver a bit too.

”Shut up Lan.”

”Hey, you’re allowed to cry.” He grinned, fingers on your hips pressing enough for you to know he wanted you to turn around. You did so barely halfway, leaning your cheek against his chest but kept your eyes train on the screen. Lando hummed, wrapping his arms around you and placing a couple of kisses against the top of your head. He was quiet for a few moments before he whispered again, the grin on his lips loud in his voice. ”I might start crying too.”

”Shut. Up. Lando.” You tried to sound stern but couldn’t help but giggle, poking your finger in his side. The video eventually wound down with some final clips from last years end of the seasons party, more or less exactly a year ago. As the music faded out the whole screen showed a large picture taken in the same room you were all standing in now, the whole team grinning up towards the camera. Your eyes scanned the photo and you let out a small huff when you found what you were looking for. Somewhere in the front, off a bit to the side, were you and Lando. He was behind you, arms wrapped around you body more or less like now, and chin resting on your head.

”Deja vu, huh?” Lando murmured softly, hand stroking up and down you back, and you exhaled contently. The screen faded to black and Zacs voice filled the room again, thanking everybody for watching and wishing you a nice evening. The room once again burst into applause and cheers but you stayed still, tucked against Landos chest, feeling all the stress and pressure from this season finally fading away.

”Come on.” Your eyes fluttered open as Lando leaned down to whisper in your ear. ”Let’s run away.” You gave him a curious look, tilting your chin up. His signature smile and the glint in his eye was impossible to resist and you let him thread his fingers through yours, quickly but discreetly steering you towards the nearest exit. No one stopped you, most of the team still caught up in conversations and laughter, leaving the two of you to slip away unnoticed. The cool evening air greeted you as Lando led you out on one of the balconies overlooking the large lake. It was still quiet, the guests for the larger party hadn’t started arriving yet, and the clicking of your heels was the only sound being heard. Lando let you go as you walked up to the railing, slowing down to watch you for a moment. The sleek fabric of your dress shimmered slightly in the low light from the windows and you smoothed it down as you turned to face him, leaning back against the railing. You eyed him as he made his way closer, pursing your lips as he stopped just infront of you.

”What are your intentions, Mr. Norris? Stealing me away like this?”

”Oh, only bad intentions. As usual.” He hummed, fingers trailing over yours hips and up your waist. They stopped just on the side of your chest, pausing before trailing down again. When his eyes met yours his expression softened. ”I just figured we deserved a moment to ourselves. It’s been a hectic year.” You smiled up at him, eyes watching the way his curls moved slightly in the breeze before flickering down to meet his.

”Hectic is one word. Crazy is another.”

”I know I’ve said it before, but baby I really couldn’t have done it without you.” His expression softened, grip on your waist tightening. ”This season, everything…it wouldn’t have been the same without you. I don’t even know if I would’ve survived without you-”

”Don’t say that.”

”But it’s true.” He shook his head, a small self-deprecating smile on his lips. ”Honestly. On-track, off-track- just, I always need you.”With a pout you reached up to cup his cheeks, thumbs brushing over his skin in a way that had him close his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again you could see all the emotions swirling in them. Relief, content, love.

”I wouldn’t have survived this season without you either, you know. I always need you.” Those words had Lando finally slip his arms around you, stepping impossibly closer. He dipped his head, forehead resting against yours for a moment before he leaned in to connect your lips. The kiss wasn’t hurried or heated, just a quiet declaration of love. When he eventually pulled back his green eyes sparkled with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

”I love you.”

”Good, I was starting to worry-” you began, voice teasing as your hands snaked in under his suit jacket. Lando didn’t let you finish, fingers pressing into your sides hard enough for you to yelp.

”Don’t be a brat now that we were having such a nice moment.” He murmured, making you giggle and lean in closer, brushing your lips against his.

”I love you too.”

[chaostudee]

i love you i'm sorry part three, charles leclerc + jude bellingham.

summary : y/n and charles tease the public on their relationship for awhile but in an after match interview jude spills all. faceclaim : cindy kimberly a/n : hope you like it <3 i spent so long trying to edit those wings onto her omgg 😭😭 also sorry i haven't been posting school is actually rly taking up most of my time rn but u will try to be more consistent xx

charlesleclerc the best weekend with the best of company

liked by y/nusername, landonorris, carlossainz and 4,728,920 others.

carlossainz do you mean me or y/n??

user829 YES YES THIS IS WHAT WE WANT TO KNOW

username_78 BAHAHA CARLOS f1fan proof we all just want to know whether they are back together or not

user627 i spot y/nnn

user11 race was crazyyyy

f1lover YES NO ONE IS TALKING ABOUT IT user52 the overtake into turn one by charles 🤯

justaninchident jude is fuming rn

y/nusername austin gp 🏎🏁

》 ughh imagine this being your camera roll

》 MOM AND DAD

》 stopppp

》 DON'T PLAY WITH ME Y/N

》 tweaking rn

》 this whole love triangle is so messy but i love it 🙈

y/nusername ig dreams do come true 🫠🪽🌸

liked by charlesleclerc, kikagomez, haileybieber and 8,516,718 others.

user728 MOTHER

username_15 oh i fearrr this is the best thing everrrr

haileybieber had the best time with you <33

y/nusername love u smm sweet girl

user891 omggg you don't know how much this means to me so so so proud of you y/n !!! you deserve this sm 🫶

y/nlover charles supporting her was the so sweet and his smile when she walked past i can'tttt

user007 omggg frrr i was screaming and kicking my feet

user52 i shed a tear

username11 the most deserving x

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

messages between charles and y/n

what are we doing charles y/n

wdym charles

yk what i mean y/n

we're having fun charles

😒 y/n

what do u want me to say charles

forget it y/n

no seriously tell me charles

i want to get back together y/n

espn

liked by justaninchident, user627, username_78 and 562,920 others.

user627 WHAT WHAT

f1fan y/n rly hurt him

username lets be real y/n never actually wanted him i'd say she just used jude to make him jealous

user72 omggg wtff did y/n do to him

username700 there is no way charles and y/n can be happy about this

f1lover poor guy

user42 the media just love to create drama so typical

y/nusername

》 so so gorge

》 we need fit details girl !!

》 the prettiest girl

》 charles defo took this pic

judebellingham having a gf is overrated anyway.

liked by footballfan2, user62, f1lover and 3,829,331 others.

user729 oof

username okay king speak your truth 🙌

user627 FIRST THE INTERVIEW AND NOW THIS OMG

f1fan frrr like pop off jude

user41 whatt is going onnn

username47 this has gotten so messy omds

f1lover caption is crazyyy

anon y/n is overrated anyways

username11 side note jude us hot asff

y/nusername photoshoot with vogue.

liked by charlesleclerc, judebellingham, lilymunihe and 527,929 others.

user62 im drooling

username92 i'm so jelly of charles and jude

f1fan MOTHER !!

user51 oh she ate and she devoured

username00 and she left no crumbs

user72 care to comment on what jude said about you??

username wtff this acc none of your business leave her alone

user182 our unbothered queen

username52 vogue is a y/n stan, as they should be

charlesleclerc great weekend ! thanks to all the fans for coming out, always appreciate your support now onto the next one.

liked by y/nusername, carlossainz, landonorris and 1,201,722 others.

username72 charles back on the podium oh yesss

user47 so ready for next week !!

f1fan amazing performance charles we love youuuu smm

username31 missed y/n at the paddock this weekend

user52 ugh me too f1lover i think she had a photoshoot this weekend sadly

f1user ferarri are so going to win the constructors

user42 no MCLAREN

username66 charles cooked this weekend

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

texts between jude and y/n

do uuu sthill uve me jude

oh god are u drunk y/n

drunk? me plssss you are sooo crazyyywy jude

tell me your location and ill get charles to pick you up y/n

i don't want charless silly i want you baby jude

jude pls don't we broke up it's over between us y/n

i can't just let you go jude

you have to y/n

y/nusername back with my angel boy

liked by charlesleclerc, rebeccadonaldson, lewishamilton and 826,920 others.

user828 GIRL JUST TELL US ARE U BACK TOGETHER WITH CHARLES OR NOT

username stop teasing usss i'm annoyed noww

f1fan awww leo and y/n

username12 the flower clip is so adorbs i need

user142 mom and son back together finally

username00 now we just need mom and dad 😭❤️

f1lover oh how i love y/n

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

judebellingham just wanted to come on here to apologize on my behaviour on here and with the media over the past few weeks. i also apologize to y/n and charles. jude.

user738 NOOO THE PR TEAM GOT TO HIM

user00 rip to unhinged jude u will be missed

f1fan the way i giggled

user72 this cant be real 😭😭

username27 oh shit he fucked up baddd

user11 plsss

username662 someone's manager is not happy

f1lover he was angry god let him live

y/nusername felt pretty.

liked by charlesleclerc, haileybieber, oscarpiastri and 1,616,022 others.

charlesleclerc the things i want to do to you....

user72 BEING HORNY ON THE MAIN IS CRAZZYY username22 omggg charlesss wtfff f1fan screaminggg user00 oh we are so back user133 ladies and gentlemen charles leclerc

user61 holy lord

username78 most gorgoeus woman on earth

f1lover y/n is so stunning oml

user82 WE BREATHE THE SAME AIR?!?!

user90 *sighs*

charlesleclerc i'm so lucky.

liked by y/nusername, carlossainz, oscarpiastri and 2,231,824 others.

y/nusername we're lucky*

user72 stopp they are so cute i could cry

username let's hope they are endgame this time

user23 yesss i need them to get married

f1fan will forever love them

user62 just going to go lay down on the highway brb

username12 so not jelly so not jelly :)

f1lover 💗💗

taglist⭑.ᐟ

@lottalove4evelyn

@mxryxmfooty

@hadidsworld

@llando4norris

@sweetestgirlintown111

@depressedriches

@love2readd

@janeh22

@seonghwaexile

@nichmeddar

@heavy-vettel

[formulakracing]

i. alkaline - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 2.7k

warnings: cursing, significant age-gap, power imbalances, slow burn, eventual smut, inappropriate work relationships, mentions of infidelity, drug/alcohol use, use of common fic tropes

synopsis: as the first american female driver for formula one, you are thrust into the competitive world of racing. when you are approached by a team principal willing to make a deal, you presented with the opportunity of a lifetime.

author's note: this is my first f1 related fic, so i may have made some errors in terminology. the title is based on the song alkaline by sleep token. i recommend listening while reading! please, please, please let me know if you like the fic! i plan on making this my first f1 series :')

racing was never in the cards. 

well, racing a nearly 1,800 pound car was never in the cards. 

especially at speeds reaching two hundred miles an hour. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

yet, here you were, shaking james’ hand, beaming as the cameras flashed. there were a flurry of voices, all of them nearly trembling with excitement, relief, and well, hope. if you were able to accomplish eighth place today, what did that mean for the future of williams racing? 

would williams be a sizable contender for the 2025 constructors’ championship? would they be able to squash the disbelief? the doubts? hell, if you kept this up, there was a chance that you could get williams into the top ten of the 2024 championship. 

were you what they had been missing for so long? 

were you the key to their future success?

“great job,” james’ voice is nearly hoarse, more than likely from all of the celebration, “you wouldn’t believe what they’re saying about you.” 

“probably nothing great,” you scoff, rolling your eyes slightly, “i’m sure that everyone is claiming i didn’t deserve it.” 

“quite the contrary,” a chuckle bubbles up from his throat, “they all adore you.” 

“was it because i gave the camera the finger?” 

“no,” there is a slight twinkle in his eyes, quite the contrary from what you were used to, “they love you because you’re you. there is no one in this sport who is quite like you.

there’s an authenticity that cannot be replaced. it’s obvious you have a true passion for racing. it shows on the track. good job, today.” 

heat flourished into your cheeks, tears welling up at james’ words. after years of being ridiculed by team principals, attacked by fans, and bashed by the media, praise was something to be cherished. it was always welcomed warmly, your heart swelling as james brought you in for a sweaty embrace. 

“thank you, james,” the words are slightly muffled as he squeezes you gently, “you know how much that means to me. thank you for believing in me.”

“of course,” james murmurs, rubbing your back ever so slightly, “great job, american girl. you deserve this. go do some interviews, flash that beautiful grin of yours, and then get some rest. you need it.”

“no partying?” you arch your brow, “i think i deserve a drink or two.”

“maybe a little bit,” another chuckle rings out, “i just don’t want to see any press about it in the morning. that’s the last thing we need after our victory today.”

“right, right,” you nod your head, saluting the principal, “aye, aye captain.”

“it’s principal,” james shoots you a wink before turning to several engineers, the group getting swept away into the chaos. 

no matter how well the team did, there was always chaos after a race. it was typical, routine even. there was always the pit crew cleaning up, shouting to one another as the fans trickled out of the stands. engineers milled about, tablets in hand, murmuring to one another, pointing out aspects of the car that needed improvement. there was always some piece of the car that could be adjusted, a slight tweak or advancement. it could make the car faster, or it could only lead to inevitable disaster. 

exhaling, you stroll out of the paddock, the dread of facing the press weighing down every step. 

you could turn around, and hide in the paddock. 

however, this was part of being a driver. simply a requirement of the job. press was an essential aspect of formula one. how else would the world know how you felt after that race? how else would information about driver contracts, car modifications, disqualifications be shared?

how else would the world have known about the first american female formula in formula one?  

you had to at least thank the press for that. 

even if it was shared before your official announcement that you were joining williams racing for the 2023 racing season. 

“there she is!” a voice calls out, light and airy. 

the corners of your lips tug into a smile as you see daniel ricciardo jogging towards you. before you know it, his arms are wrapping around your frame, holding you tight. he’s sweaty, per usual, but you accept the gesture, suppressing a giggle as he sways you back and forth. 

“i knew you could do it! i knew you could do it!”

“don’t puncture her lungs, please,” another voice chimes in, “i would like to keep her around, you know.”

daniel releases you promptly, placing a swift peck on your cheek, “no need to fret alex. i’m not that mighty.”

“i’m more worried about contracting any diseases from the land down under,” scrunching your nose, you wave your fingers at daniel, earning yet another laugh from the australian. 

“the only disease you’d contract are my insanely good looks.”

“here we go again,” alex rolls his eyes, “are we ready to face the press or what?”

“i think so,” daniel shrugs, “go ahead, alex. we’ll follow you.”

alex shoots you an inquiring glance, but begins to walk in the direction of the conference room. once he was a reasonable distance away, daniel clears his throat. 

“someone seemed a little jealous.”

“i wouldn’t say jealous,” you can’t help but defend alex, “he’s probably a little bitter.”

“fifteenth place is nowhere as good as eighth,” daniel points out, the notes in his tone solemn, “he’s been there a few years and seen subpar results. you came in last year and have pretty damn good ones. i’m sure he can’t help but feel a little bit of envy.” 

“maybe he just had a bad race.”

“you say that every–” daniel begins, but he’s swiftly cut off as you pull open the door to the conference room. 

all around, cameras flash, reporters chirp out questions, and phones are immediately pointed in your direction. sucking in a deep breath, you settle on the couch next to daniel, max verstappen across from you. he shoots you a thumbs up, complemented with a wide smile. alex was on your right, fiddling a loose thread. 

confusion consumes you momentarily once you realize that max was the only one from the podium to remain in the conference room. checo and carlos were not present. so why was he still here? 

daniel passes you the mic, placing it on your lap. a shit-eating grin plasters his face, and you grimace. of course he was going to make you speak first. hesitantly, you pick up the mic, clearing your throat. 

“hello, everyone. any questions?”

immediately a reporter butts in, “how does it feel to not only be one of the only women competing in formula one, but the first american woman to place in a race?”

your hand tingles as you hold up the mic, trembling slightly. public speaking was never your forte. fuck you, daniel. 

“w-well,” you curse yourself for stuttering, “i take a lot of pride in the way i compete, especially as such a trailblazer for women who love the sport. i’m aware that there is a lot of unrest and outcry concerning my gender and how i’m not ‘supposed’ to be competing with the men–”

“i think she’s a worthy opponent,” max’s voice interjects, “she competes at the same intensity as we do, if not more. she is going to be standing next to me on a podium in a matter of weeks. i’ve never met someone so driven to win or passionate about the sport. 

we pay no attention to her gender. it doesn’t affect us. we pay attention to her character. i do not want to speak for her, but i am sure she would appreciate it if you all refrained from the gender based questions. ask her about the race.”

as he finishes speaking, his eyes drift back to you, sparkling ever so slightly. his cheeks were tinged a pink hue from the passionate sentiment, and you couldn’t help but just sit there, frozen with disbelief. 

max verstappen, three time world champion, one of the best drivers to ever step foot on a formula one track, publicly praised you. in a room full of journalists, no less. 

sure, you were friendly with max. since there were only twenty drivers, most of you were close, on and off the grid. you had exchanged numerous conversations with max over the last year, but you were still a little intimidated by the dutch driver. 

of course, who wouldn’t be? he was a dominant force on the track, winning nineteen of the twenty-two races last season. 

so yeah, when he just did nothing but send you the uttermost praise in a room bustling with the press, you were going to a little starstruck.

“do you have any additional remarks to maxs’ comments?” a reporter snaps you out of your trance, “you appear to be a little off-put by what he just said.”

blinking, you bring the mic to your lips, “no, i actually appreciate what he said. maybe that means you guys will finally take me seriously.”

“are you under the impression that formula one does not take you seriously?”

as the reporter baits you to respond, a twinge of frustration brews in your stomach, churning it into a knot. sucking in a sharp breath, you focus your attention to the reporter. 

“no, that is not what i said. it is the simple fact that i have been working my ass off this last year to be a competitive racer. i’ve worked tirelessly with williams racing to place. i’ve been trying to earn points for my team because i believe in my team and i want us to succeed. yet nearly every day i wake up, someone on social media posts some bullshit or bashes me for competing. 

i’ve been making a name for myself, and look where it has gotten me. you all are more concerned about my gender than the race i just had. i think it’s a bit frivolous to be more invested in my gender than my racing. so yeah, when the three time world champion says something good about me, i would hope that you guys listen to it.”

there’s a few gasps from a few reporters, and you can’t help but notice all of the beady red lights on the cameras. of course that was all recorded. of course it was going to be blasted all over social media these next couple of days. 

so much for good press. 

setting down the mic, you lean over to daniel. the words are low enough so that only he can hear, “i’m done here.”

“i don’t blame you,” the aussie plucks the mic out of your hands, “get out of here. cool down. i’m sorry about that prick.”

“don’t worry about it,” you mutter, cheeks burning hot with sheer anger, “i’m leaving before i cuss them all out.”

“atta girl,” daniel winks, “i’d like to see that, though.”

“not now,” you bite your lip, “i need to bite my tongue.”

as you get up, max’s gaze is full of sympathy. alex’s mouths, i’m so sorry, disappointment painting his features. walking across the stage, daniel’s words drown in your ears. 

balling your fists together, the tingly sensation resides as you march towards your motorhome. tears blur your vision, strings of curses filling the air as you walk. after that little incident in the press room, james was not going to be happy. of course, after everything you accomplished today, it was diminished somehow. 

by an asshole reporter, at that. 

flinging open the door to the motorhome, you resist the urge to just scream. it would not help much, but god would it be cathartic. however, there were more important things to be addressed. you needed to decompress and settle down. 

as much as you wanted to celebrate with a few drinks, a shower, some comfy clothes, and your bed were more appealing. 

maybe a glass of wine in bed wouldn’t hurt. 

as you unzip your fire suit, a knock at the door disturbs the silence. 

shit. just as you were finally getting settled. 

groaning, you spin on your heel, making your way to the door. 

“daniel, i swear to fucking god. i don’t want to talk right now–”

however, it was not daniel standing at the entrance of your motorhome. 

before you was torger wolff, also known as toto wolff, team principal of mercedes-amg petronas. 

donning a white team button-up, the sleeves were rolled to his elbows, showcasing his muscular build. inky black slacks were on his lower half, making him appear taller than he already was. fluffy brunette hair stood up on nearly all ends, messy from the stress and chaos of the race.

however, there was no denying he was handsome. with sharp, angular features, and wrinkles scoured in his face over the years, it gave him a powerful yet stoic aura. 

like his name suggested, he was like a wolf, poised and eager to pounce.

yet, you were more focused on his eyes. a brilliant, warm, mocha-hued gaze framed by thick, dark lashes. and they were peering right at you, taking in the sight of you in your half-zipped fire suit, a black long sleeve underneath. 

your eyes widen, a hand covering your mouth. sheer embarrassment courses through you, heat flooding your cheeks, trickling down your neck, “i – oh my god. um, oh my god, i am so fucking sorry.”

clearing his throat, he arches a brow, “did i come at a bad time?”

“no,” you shake your head, perhaps a little quickly, “no, no, no. please, come in. how rude of me.”

there is no readable expression across the austrian’s features, his lips pucking ever so slightly, “it won’t be long, i promise.”

swallowing a lump in your throat, you step back, inviting the principal in to the motorhome. you lead him to the kitchen, gesturing to a barstool, “you can sit here if you’d like.”

he glances at the stool, yet does not sit. your brows furrow as he remains standing. leaning against a counter, you fold your arms across your chest. 

“is there a reason you stopped by?”

“as you know,” toto begins, “lewis is leaving mercedes after the 2024 season. he will be joining ferrari in 2025. to put it simply, i am on the hunt for my second driver.”

your lips purse, “i’m not sure why you came to me. you would have better luck with carlos. he’s looking for a team. i made a verbal commitment to james. i’ll be staying with williams through 2026.”

“is that so?” toto inquires, taking a step towards you, “and why are you choosing to stay with a team that limits your potential?”

the question takes you aback, “i’m not sure you what mean.”

rolling his eyes, he tuts, “williams racing is nowhere as near as competitive of a team as ferrari, redbull, mclaren, or mercedes. for years they’ve been piddling around, finishing at the bottom of the championship. yes, their drivers are talented, but they are not given opportunities to thrive.”

his comment sends another wave of anger coursing through you, your fists balling at your sides, “you have no idea what you’re talking about–”

“actually, i do. i’ve been around a long time. i’ve seen a lot more than you ever have. james is a great team principal, but you are not going to compete if you stay at williams. eventually, you’ll be like alex. you’ll finish with mediocre results. you’ll lose faith in the team who you once cherished so deeply. you’ll be ridiculed even more by the world of formula one, even more so than you already are.”

gritting your teeth, you take a step forward, “i think it’s time for you to leave.”

“what?” toto cocks his head, “did i say something you didn’t want to hear, little dove? did i strike a chord?”

“i think you’re just projecting,” you maintain your composure as the principal scoffs, “that’s exactly what happened to lewis, and you’re afraid it’s going to happen to george.”

“you’re a smart girl,” it takes a moment for you to realize how close the two of you had suddenly gotten.

he was in very close proximity now, only a few inches apart, looking down at you with a wickedly smug grin, “and i know that you’re very aware that formula one is a business. i have to maintain the mercedes reputation and acquire a driver who will bring us home podiums.” 

“i think you’ll have that luck with carlos,” breaking away, your gaze settles on the door of the motorhome. 

fingers grasp your chin, tilting your head upwards. 

“but i want you to drive for mercedes. i want to make you a world champion.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆

please let me know if you would like to be tagged! thank you for reading! <3

[f1cflcfic]

The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris) Part IV

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (fem!y/n)

summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy".

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons.

genre: social media au, angst, exes to lovers, happy ending

[A/N: woops, turns out that it works better to split the final bit of the story over two parts, so this means you've still got one part coming after this one! Also, please note that we spend some time in Las Vegas in this part, so there's vague mention of alcohol and drunk shenanigans]

part i part ii part iii

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

November 15th, 2026

November 17th, 2026

November 18th, 2026

[Daily Mail excerpt]

Y/N L/N, Louis Tomlinson and more arrive for Las Vegas GP Opening Ceremony

Alle eyes are on Las Vegas this week, as the city plays host to one of the most exciting Grand Prix circuits this year. Vegas never fails to deliver an adrenalin rush, and this race promises to be one for the history books. Not just for what happens on track, but also outside of it. Tonight, many F1 fans and other entertainment lovers will head to the iconic the Sphere for the Opening Ceremony concert. With names like Kygo, Chappell Roan, and Y/N L/N headlining, it’ll surely be a treat.

Of course, many will be paying particular attention to Y/N L/N, who arrived this morning with fellow singer Louis Tomlinson in tow at the stadium. The two have been friends for a long time, and are frequently seen spending time together. However, L/N’s breakup with F1 driver Lando Norris has caused some fans to wonder if there’s perhaps more than meets the eye between the two. The rumours have only been fuelled by reports of the two leaving parties together earlier this month, as they were both said to have attended Travis Kelce’s birthday in October. Representatives for L/N refused to comment.

Her latest album The Prophecy is said to have been inspired largely by the downfall of her relationship with Norris – who has steered clear of commenting so far. Critics have described the decision to have L/N perform at a GP as “aggressive”, and “potentially damaging” for the sport’s credibility. “It casts a huge shadow over what could be a decisive race for points in both the Driver’s and Constructor’s championship,” one F1 fan remarked online. Another refuted such claims, stating that it’s “F1 who invited her there in the first place, and it’s literally just a concert before the actual racing begins – calm down”.

Whether or not the singers are expected to make an appearance in any of the paddocks later this week remains to be seen.

November 19th, 2026

November 20th, 2026

[Excerpt of Y/N's interview on Jimmy Kimmel Live!]

“So your new album has been out for about a week now, and it’s projected to be at #1 – there’s a bunch of people in the audience who have literally been about here for days, trying to get tickets to this taping," Jimmy motions to a couple of fans who immediately stand up and wave at Y/N. She gasps and blows a kiss to them, “days?! Oh my gosh, thank you!" Y/N turns to Jimmy, "is it okay if I ..." she trails off before just jumping out of her seat to hug the two fans.

When she returns, Jimmy motions for her to continue speaking. "I mean it’s absolutely amazing, especially knowing that it was such a personal project and to see that reach so many people is mindblowing. I wish I could spend more time with everyone, but it’s been super hectic as well, promoting this record.”

“How is that for your family – how are they handling all the fame and attention? They must not see you very much,” he asks.

“It can be difficult for sure. They’ve always been really supportive of me chasing my dreams, and whenever it’s possible I try to fly them out or go see them. But yeah, sometimes that’s just not an option, or I’m honestly too tired to be social. I was in the UK last week, flew in to LA yesterday evening from Vegas, New York before that, and then I’m on a red-eye tonight again out of here as well. I think now that I’ve been doing this for so long, I’ve realised that sometimes you just need to let life in and hit pause. You can’t just give and give and give to everything, all at once.”

Jimmy nods emphatically. “That’s very well said – I have a really hard time picturing you not working, to be honest. What does that even look like?”

“Ha, I really love to read. I usually am carrying at least two or three books with me, and then I’ll leave them behind somewhere in a second hand shop, or those little book nooks?”

“So someone somewhere could be holding a book that you’ve read in their hands, and they wouldn’t even know it?”

“Oh 100% that’s the case.”

“If you'd only doodled in them, they'd be worth thousands of dollars, probably." He turns back to the people in the crowd. "Would you buy a book that's been read by Y/N?" They nod, and he grins. "See?"

"Now do you also use those books for inspiration when you write, or is it all just your own experiences?”

“Yeah I’ve surely gotten inspired by other artforms in the past – I think probably subconsciously even for this record. That’s where the idea of a song around a prophecy came from, fantasy novels.”

He feigns contemplation, regarding Y/N carefully. “Have you been able to change it, that prophecy? I just want you to be happy, and you didn’t seem that happy on this record.”

Y/N lets out an awkward smile and shuffles in her seat. “I think that I’ll always have difficulty letting go of this need for control, but I’d say I’m definitely in a much better place than when I wrote it. I’m happy, I’ve got great people around me who love me, so can’t complain.”

November 21st, 2026

[The Independent excerpt]

BREAKING: LANDO NORRIS WINS LAS VEGAS GRAND PRIX!

The British driver was pictured celebrating with the McLaren team immediately after the race. Fellow papaya teammate Oscar Piastri had a disastrous start to the race, but managed phenomenal overtakes that eventually handed him P3. The double McLaren podium was completed by Lewis Hamilton, who edged out Max Verstappen with a crucial undercut earlier on in the race.

Speaking on the race, Norris said that he tried to treat it as any other and not think too much about defending his lead. “I’ve got my routines, that I’m trying to stick to as much as possible. Of course there’s some extra pressure, but we’ve got a strong car and I was feeling good about our lap times all week,” he shrugs. “Las Vegas is a great, but challenging track. I’m really pleased that we got the performance up enough to cash in on the pole position this time.”

Norris has now increased his lead in the WDC, which gives him a comfortable position moving into the final races of the season.

Many celebrities were stateside to attend the Grand Prix, but perhaps most contentious was the appearance of Y/N L/N, Norris’ ex-girlfriend. After opening the GP earlier this week on Wednesday, she had seemingly left Las Vegas to promote her album across the world. However, it seems watching her ex take the win was high enough a priority to fly straight back to Vegas on Saturday. The high profile singer used to be a frequent presence in F1, but stopped attending races as their relationship deteriorated.

Norris has been dodging questions about L/N all month, as her latest album is rumoured to have been inspired by their relationship. When asked whether or not it had affected his focus on the race after qualifying, Norris was quick to shut the reporter down. “It’s completely irrelevant to talk about that when I’m sitting in pole. If I decide to meet up with an old friend that happens to be in town, then that’s what I’ll do. Might even turn out to be a good luck charm, if anything.”

It seems to indicate the two have since reconciled, as they were spotted celebrating Norris’ win together with friends.

November 23, 2026

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

You can read the previous parts by going here, part V is now available here)

♥ likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥

taglist (open) : @charlesgirl16, @linnygirl09, @hoeforsirius, @motorsportloverf1, @sarx164, @idkimbadwithusernamesandstuff, @formulaal, @tvdtw4ever @sadiemack9 @seonghwaexile

bonus: Tension song

[jzprncess]

radio check, babe

Pairing: Lando Norris x Y/N reader

oneshot

Word count: 2,853

Summary : Y/N L/N, a decorated Air Force pilot and certified badass, has been juggling fighter jets and a long-distance relationship with McLaren’s golden boy, Lando Norris. After months away on deployment—and being totally MIA from the F1 paddock—she’s finally back just in time for the season finale in Abu Dhabi. But Y/N isn’t about to make a quiet comeback. With Lando chasing victory and McLaren on the verge of clinching the Constructors' Championship, she plans the ultimate surprise. During the final lap, her voice cuts through the team radio, reminding Lando she’s always been in his corner. Cue the waterworks, the feels, and an epic reunion that’s part racing history, part love story.

Note: i kinda had inspiration for this one and its also good that i at least dropped something with lando after saying i was going to and then scrap the whole thing lol. this was a request!

⋆⭒˚｡⋆✈︎

The jet engines were still buzzing in her ears as Y/N stepped off the plane, her duffel bag casually thrown over her shoulder. After months of being deployed, the hot desert air in Abu Dhabi hit her like a wave of nostalgia. She’d flown all over the world in her Air Force career, but this time felt different. She wasn’t just another pilot on a mission—she was back, or at least as close as she could get without being wrapped up in Lando’s arms.

Her fingers gripped the strap of her bag a little tighter as she walked through the airport, shades on to hide from the curious stares around her. The last time she was in Abu Dhabi, it was to cheer Lando on, to laugh at pit stop fails and celebrate team wins with him. But now? She wasn’t a WAG on the sidelines anymore. She was someone who’d spent way too many nights staring at the stars, hoping Lando was looking up at the same sky.

McLaren had kept her surprise on the down low, helping her set up the ultimate "gotcha" moment. The plan was simple but meaningful: wait for the right time on Sunday to make her presence known. It’d be just one voice on the radio, but she hoped it’d be enough to remind Lando of how much she believed in him, loved him, and was so proud of him.

The world saw him as F1’s next big thing, but to her, he was still the guy who let her braid his hair for fun, the one who sent her sunset pics when they were apart, and the dude who always told her he loved her, even when things were tough.

As she pulled up to the hotel, the reality of actually seeing him hit hard. She wasn’t just about to surprise her boyfriend—she was walking back into a world that had missed her as much as she’d missed it. But for now? She needed to stay focused. Lando had no idea she was even in Abu Dhabi, and she was gonna keep it that way until race day.

Y/N checked into her hotel room and tossed her duffel bag on the bed, her heart racing as she unpacked the essentials. There was still time before the race weekend, but every moment felt like it was slipping through her fingers. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out, half-expecting a message from Lando. But instead, it was a text from McLaren’s PR team, confirming all the last-minute details of her plan.

She couldn’t help but smile, knowing she was about to pull off something that would be talked about for years.

Her fingers hovered over the screen as she typed a quick reply, making sure everything was set for race day. There was no going back now—she was in Abu Dhabi, and she was going to make sure Lando never forgot this moment.

The next few days blurred into a whirlwind of meetings, press events, and quiet moments spent reflecting on what she was about to do. She was used to the adrenaline of fighter jets, the precise timing of military operations, but nothing compared to the quiet anxiety that settled in her chest every time she thought about race day.

When Sunday finally arrived, Y/N was up before dawn, dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, trying to stay as low-key as possible. The McLaren team had kept her out of sight—no one could know she was here until the moment was right. She walked into the paddock with purpose, her sunglasses hiding her face as she weaved through the busy atmosphere. It felt strange to be back. This world, so familiar, yet so different now.

By the time the race started, her nerves were a distant memory. Lando had been doing what he did best all weekend—smashing lap times, staying focused, and keeping his eye on the prize. McLaren was on the verge of clinching the Constructors' Championship, and Lando’s drive was relentless. She couldn’t help but watch him on the track, her heart swelling with pride. He was so close.

And then came the final lap.

Y/N stood behind the curtain, the crowd’s roar fading as her heart pounded in her chest. She could hear the comms chatter, the calm voices of the team, but it was the moment she’d been waiting for.

"Alright, Lando, last lap, mate," the engineer’s voice crackled over the radio.

And then, just as Lando approached the final sector, Y/N’s voice—quiet but unmistakable—cut through the static.

“Hey, Lando… just wanted to remind you—I’ve always got your six.”

A beat of silence, then a stunned pause from the team. Y/N held her breath, praying he would hear her. And then, she heard it.

"Lando? Did you—? Wait, is that Y/N?"

It was his voice, full of disbelief, followed by a soft, emotional chuckle that made her knees weak.

She smiled to herself, knowing the surprise had landed.

"Focus, mate!" the engineer quickly snapped, but it was clear that the moment had shifted. The tension on the radio had softened, and for a moment, it felt like time had stopped.

Lando was racing for victory, the team was on the edge of a championship, but in that one instant, it was just the two of them, connected by words, by love, by everything they had been through together.

With the finish line in sight, Y/N knew the moment was almost here. She turned to the screen, As the checkered flag waved, Lando crossed the finish line, securing McLaren’s first Constructors' Championship in years. The crowd erupted in applause, the sound of a distant hum in Y/N's ears as she stood frozen for a split second. Her eyes never left the screen, watching Lando’s car coast to a stop, his victory becoming real in that very moment.

Her heart raced, adrenaline coursing through her veins. It wasn’t just a win for McLaren—it was a win for him. For them.

She could hear the team celebrating on the radio, but it wasn’t until the team principal’s voice came through that she snapped back into reality.

"Congratulations, Lando," he said, his tone warm but professional. "And... Y/N, welcome home."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. The team had kept her arrival a secret, but now that Lando knew she was there, she felt the weight of that moment. Lando’s voice crackled through the comms once more, but it was different now—full of emotion, disbelief, and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

"Y/N, wait, you—are you really here?" Lando asked, his voice cracking slightly, a mix of shock and relief.

She could hear the sound of his heartbeat in his words, the rush of everything he was feeling in the moment. The realization that they had both made it through the distance, the loneliness, and the uncertainties. That they were finally here, together again.

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling the world shift around her as she stepped forward, her voice steady but filled with love.

"Yeah, I’m here. I’ve got your six, always. I’m so proud of you, Babe."

There was a long pause before she heard him again, softer this time, as if trying to process everything at once. "You’re killing me, you know that? You—always—know how to make this moment so much better."

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away, her focus on what was coming next. The sound of the celebration in the background started to feel distant as she pushed forward, walking through the corridors of the paddock, heading toward the podium where Lando was waiting.

This wasn’t just about a race win. It was about them. It was about every sleepless night, every text and call, every moment of longing and hope. It was about finding each other again in the chaos of their separate worlds, and now, here they were. Standing on the precipice of a future that was just beginning to unfold.

And as she finally walked out into the paddock, the sight of Lando waiting for her, a grin plastered across his face, was all she needed. The noise of the crowd, the chaos of the celebrations, all of it faded into the background as she locked eyes with him. In that moment, nothing else existed but him, standing there, looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered.

Lando’s grin softened into something more intimate as he closed the distance between them. His eyes were filled with emotion—surprise, relief, joy—and there was a rawness in his expression that made her heart ache.

Without saying a word, he pulled her into a tight hug, lifting her off her feet as if he couldn’t believe she was really there. Y/N laughed softly, wrapping her arms around him, the warmth of his embrace feeling like the home she’d been craving for months. His scent, the familiarity of his touch, it all felt like the missing piece she hadn’t even realized she was searching for.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Lando muttered against her hair, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve been thinking about you every damn day, and now... this? This is unreal.”

Y/N pulled back slightly, her hands gently cupping his face as she looked up at him, her heart in her throat. “I’ve always been here, Lando. Always. Even when we were apart, I was right there with you. You know that, right?”

His hands came to rest on her waist, and he nodded, his forehead resting against hers for a moment as they shared the quiet intimacy of the moment. The rest of the world could wait. Right now, it was just the two of them.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “And I felt it. Every second. It’s been the hardest thing, being away from you... but this”—he gestured around to the celebrations, the team, the whole paddock—“this doesn’t even compare to how much I needed you here with me.”

Y/N smiled softly, her thumb tracing the outline of his lips, the weight of his words sinking in. She could feel the emotions bubbling up again, tears threatening to spill, but she held them back. This wasn’t the time for tears—it was a time for celebration, for love, for them.

“You’re my champion, Lan,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the distant sounds of victory. “And I’m so damn proud of you.”

His eyes shone with a mixture of gratitude and something deeper—something that made her chest tighten. Lando reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch gentle, reverent, like he was afraid she might disappear if he wasn’t careful.

“You have no idea how much that means,” he said, his voice steady but filled with so much love that it nearly took her breath away. “I wouldn’t be here without you. You’ve always had my back, and now... we get to share this.”

Y/N laughed softly, her heart swelling with a love so intense it almost felt like a dream. “We’ve got a lot more to share, Lovebug.”

He leaned in then, closing the small gap between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was soft at first, a moment of quiet connection. But then, the kiss deepened, filled with everything they had missed—the longing, the passion, the promise of a future finally shared. The sound of cheers in the background faded into nothingness as they stood there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside their little bubble irrelevant.

When they finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Lando gave her a playful look. “So, uh... you want to join me for the podium celebration? I think there’s a spot for you next to me.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “I think the podium got enough glory for one person today, don’t you think?”

Lando grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Guess we’ll have to share it, then.”

They made their way through the paddock, hand in hand, a quiet smile shared between them as they entered the chaos of the victory celebration. The team was already gathered around, clapping and cheering, and as they stepped onto the podium together, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride for everything Lando had achieved. This wasn’t just his moment—it was theirs.

Lando leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “You’ve got me through the toughest parts, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Her heart swelled at his words, but she only smiled, squeezing his hand in response. “You’ll never have to find out.”

As the national anthem played and the champagne sprayed, Y/N stood beside him, feeling like the luckiest person in the world. She had come into this paddock as an outsider, but now, she was part of something bigger—a team, a family, and a love that had been tested but never broken.

When it was time for photos, Lando pulled her close, his arm wrapping around her waist as they posed together, his grin infectious as they both reveled in the moment. The photographers snapped away, capturing their smiles, their joy, and the unspoken connection between them. In that snapshot of time, nothing else mattered—just the two of them, standing side by side at the top of the world.

Afterward, the celebrations continued, but Y/N found herself lost in the quiet of the moment, content just to be there with him. As they made their way back to the garage, the weight of everything they had shared, everything they had overcome, settled around them like a comforting blanket.

Lando stopped, turning to her with a soft, sincere look. “You’ve made this the best day of my life, Y/N. I love you. Always.”

Y/N smiled, feeling her heart race once more. “I love you too, Lan. And I’ll always be here, cheering you on. No matter what.”

And as they stood there, surrounded by the noise of the team, the flashing lights of cameras, and the cheers of fans, everything felt surreal. The adrenaline from the race, the excitement of the win, the love between them—it all blended together in a whirlwind of emotion.

Y/N glanced at Lando, her heart full as she watched him interact with his team, his joy infectious. But through it all, he kept finding his way back to her, his eyes always coming to rest on hers, a silent promise between them.

The crowd around them grew more animated as the party shifted into full celebration mode, but Y/N and Lando took a step back, out of the limelight for a moment. Just the two of them, standing together in a quiet corner, sharing a peaceful moment amidst the chaos.

“I’m so proud of you,” Y/N said, her voice soft but full of meaning. "You’ve worked so hard for this, Lando. And I couldn’t be happier for you."

Lando smiled, his expression tender as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I couldn’t have done it without you. You’re the reason I keep going. You’re the reason I’m here.”

She shook her head, the words feeling too big for her to fully grasp. “No, Hun. You’ve always been incredible. I just... I just made sure you knew you weren’t alone.”

Lando’s gaze softened, and he took her hand, squeezing it gently. “We’re never alone. Not anymore.”

The sounds of the celebration grew distant as Y/N leaned into Lando, resting her head against his shoulder. They stood there for a while, lost in the comfort of each other’s presence, knowing this moment would be something they’d look back on forever.

As the night wore on and the team moved on to the next phase of the celebration, Lando turned to her with a playful grin. “So... what do you say we make our own little victory lap?”

Y/N laughed, her heart lifting as she looked up at him. “I’m all in for that.”

They left the party behind, walking hand in hand under the desert sky. The air was cool now, a stark contrast to the heat of the day, and the stars above twinkled like they were shining just for them.

For the first time in what felt like forever, everything was right. The distance, the time apart—it all felt like it had been leading up to this moment. A new chapter, one where they didn’t just survive the distance but thrived in it. And as they walked into the night together, Y/N knew that the road ahead wouldn’t always be easy, but as long as they were side by side, it would always be worth it.

“Here’s to us,” Lando said, his voice full of promise.

“Here’s to us,” Y/N echoed, squeezing his hand, and in that simple gesture, she knew they had both found exactly what they needed all along.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

taglist : @heluvsjappie @awritingtree @steamy-smokey

[azsazz]

Off Grid

Azriel x Reader [Formula One AU]

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

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2,109

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

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

_________________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll see you later, man.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s going to be a long season.

_________________________________________

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

[soleilpinto]

DRS = Defining Relationship Status?: Love in the Last Corner °‧🫐𐙚⭒

“Defining Relationship Status Zone” 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐

Synopsis: Motorsport fan and model, Y/n, and her thirst-filled tweets about Franco catch his attention, sparking a hilarious online banter that goes viral. As their playful exchanges become real connections, fans and media can’t get enough—will their chemistry survive offline?

Genre: Fluff, Crack, Slowburn, (Slight) Angst

AU: Social Media AU!

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Note: I can’t believe we’re finally at the final part of this series, it’s been a wild time writing this fic 😭 Don’t worry though, I’ll have another smau coming out soon so you guys won’t get bored. Thank you guys so much again for the huge amount of love on the series, even if it is my first one on this account. Love you all!

DRS Masterlist. (PREV./NEXT.)

@williamzracing so y/n's been radio silent about franco for weeks... but now she’s in qatar and hanging out with lando? 👀 something’s up

@oversteerqueen y/n showing up in the mclaren garage with lando like she didn’t spend the entire season thirsting over franco... the AUDACITY

@chequeredflirt i’m calling it now: y/n and franco are done, and lando is moving in for the win (and i’m not talking about the constructors) 😂

@chicanechatter imagine being franco and seeing y/n with lando in qatar. the silence is deafening.

@formulafrenzyy this lando and y/n thing better be pr because I’m not emotionally ready for a breakup AND a new ship all at once

The McLaren garage buzzed with energy as checks were being made before the first free practice session.

You stood off to the side, leaning casually against a wall, chatting with Lando. His easy humor had you laughing, your shoulders relaxing despite the chaos of the paddock around you.

“You know,” Lando teased, crossing his arms with a sly grin, “if you’re going to hang around the McLaren garage this much, we might as well get you some team gear. You’d look good in papaya.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. “I don’t know, Lando. Orange might not be my color.”

“It’s papaya,” Lando corrected with mock seriousness, making you laugh again.

The sound of footsteps caught your attention, and before you could turn fully, you felt it—Franco’s presence. He was walking past, his gaze locked on you and Lando, his jaw tight and his eyes unreadable.

You tensed involuntarily, your laughter dying down as your eyes met his for the briefest of moments.

Lando noticed the change in your demeanor and followed your gaze, his expression shifting.

“Speak of the devil,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

Franco slowed his stride as if debating something, and then, to your surprise, he pivoted on his heel and walked straight toward you. Your stomach flipped.

This wasn’t like him.

“Can we talk?” Franco’s voice was steady, but there was a sharp edge to it as he glanced between you and Lando.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Now?”

“Yes. Now.” Franco’s tone left no room for argument.

Lando raised an eyebrow, stepping back slightly but still hovering close enough to observe.

“Well, I think that’s my cue to check on the car,” he said, shooting you a quick look as if to say good luck.

“Thanks, Lando,” you muttered, your voice tight as he walked off, leaving you alone with Franco.

You crossed your arms, looking up at him. “What’s this about?”

Franco’s expression softened for a moment before hardening again, as if he were fighting some internal battle.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said bluntly.

You frowned. “Do what?”

“This... pretending like I don’t care,” he admitted, his voice low but intense.

“I saw you laughing with Lando, and I couldn’t just walk away this time. I’m tired of avoiding this, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched at the sudden vulnerability in his tone, your heart pounding as you tried to process his words.

“Avoiding what?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Franco’s eyes searched yours, and for the first time in weeks, the tension between you felt less like a wall and more like a thread ready to snap.

“You,” he said simply. “Us.”

Your heart felt like it had stopped altogether, and the world around you faded into the background. But before you could find the words to respond, Franco shook his head slightly, as if trying to steady himself.

“I just... I needed to say it,” he muttered. “I couldn’t let it go unsaid anymore.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there in the middle of the McLaren garage, your thoughts spinning faster than the engines roaring in the background.

liked by lettiemng, gabyprentice_ and others

ynbardot doha dump (day one)

lilymhe always so gorgeous

— ynbardot when YOU exist omg lily 😭

iamrebeccad 😍

— ynbardot 😚

The hotel room was quiet except for the hum of the air conditioning and the occasional sound of Elena scrolling on her phone.

You sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the room service tray you’d barely touched, replaying the events from the McLaren garage over and over in your mind.

Elena finally looked up, noticing the faraway expression on your face.

“Alright, spill,” she said, setting her phone down and crossing her legs. “What’s got you looking like you’ve seen a ghost?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair.

“Franco came up to me today. In the McLaren garage.”

Elena’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“What? He actually said something for once? And here I thought the boy had forgotten how to talk.”

You managed a small, bitter laugh. “Yeah, he finally talked. He said he couldn’t pretend he didn’t care anymore.”

“Wait… what exactly did he say?” Her expression shifted, softening with curiosity.

You hesitated, trying to recall the exact words without letting your emotions twist them.

“He said he was tired of avoiding it. That he couldn’t just walk away this time. And then he said… he’s tired of pretending like he doesn’t care.”

Elena stared at you, her lips parted in shock. “Wow,” she finally said, leaning back against the headboard.

“That’s big. That’s really big.”

“Is it, though?” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Because I still don’t understand why he’s been so cold lately. Why he let things get so bad between us. I don’t even know if I believe him, Elena. It’s like… it’s like he’s just now realizing I exist.”

Elena frowned, tilting her head as she studied you.

“You’re hurt,” she said softly.

“Of course I am,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly.

“This whole thing has been a mess. He was fine keeping his distance for weeks, acting like nothing happened, and now he decides to come up to me and say all this? I don’t know how to feel.”

Elena reached over, placing a hand on your arm.

“Y/N, I get it. But listen to me—Franco’s been in his head about you for a while now. Probably longer than he even realizes.”

“What are you talking about?” You looked at her skeptically.

She shrugged, her tone matter-of-fact.

“He’s been acting this way ever since Vegas. I mean, the guy practically spiraled when he saw you and Lando hanging out. Do you really think he didn’t know what he was feeling back then? He’s just been too stubborn—or scared—to admit it.”

Your heart clenched at her words, the memory of Vegas flooding back. Franco’s sharp glares, his tense expression, the way he seemed on edge every time Lando was around.

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“Because it wasn’t my place to meddle,” Elena said gently.

“He had to figure it out on his own, and it looks like he finally has. I’m just saying—maybe don’t write him off completely just yet.”

You sighed, burying your face in your hands.

“I don’t know, Elena. It’s not that simple. I’m still hurt. I still don’t trust him not to run away again.”

“And that’s fair,” she said, her voice firm but understanding. “But if he’s finally stepping up, don’t shut him out without hearing him out first. You deserve answers, Y/N. You deserve to know how he really feels.”

You leaned back against the pillows, your mind swirling with doubt and confusion. “What if it’s too late?” you asked softly.

Elena gave you a small smile, her tone reassuring. “If it’s real, it’s never too late. But you have to decide if you’re willing to find out.”

You closed your eyes, her words settling over you like a weight.

Part of you wanted to keep your walls up, to protect yourself from further hurt. But another part—a smaller, quieter part—couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Franco was finally ready to let you in.

The next afternoon, the buzz of activity in the McLaren garage was a welcome distraction. Engineers hurried around, adjusting setups, while mechanics prepped Lando’s car for the third free practice session.

You were perched on a stool by one of the monitors, sipping on a water bottle as Elena scrolled through her phone beside you.

Lando strolled over, helmet tucked under his arm, his signature grin plastered on his face. “Enjoying the chaos?” he asked, leaning casually against the counter.

You laughed softly. “It’s actually kind of relaxing. Well, compared to my brain lately.”

Elena shot you a knowing look, but said nothing, letting Lando take the bait.

“Oh?” Lando raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s going on in that overthinking head of yours?”

You hesitated, glancing at Elena, who nodded encouragingly.

“It’s… about Franco,” you finally admitted.

Lando set his helmet down, folding his arms as he leaned in closer.

“Alright, now I’m invested. What did he do this time?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Remember how he came up to me yesterday? Before free practice. He said he couldn’t pretend he didn’t care anymore.”

Lando blinked, clearly surprised. “Wow. That’s… actually huge for him. But I’m guessing there’s more to the story.”

“Of course there is,” you said with a dry laugh.

“I just… I don’t know what to do, Lando. Part of me wants to hear him out, but the other part is still so angry and hurt. He’s been so distant for weeks, and now suddenly he wants to talk?”

Lando nodded thoughtfully, his expression unusually serious.

“Look, I’m not gonna pretend I know Franco super well, but from what I’ve seen? He’s not the kind of guy who puts himself out there unless he means it.”

“That’s what Elena said,” you muttered, glancing at your friend, who gave you an encouraging smile.

Lando shrugged, his tone casual but sincere.

“Then maybe Elena’s onto something. I get that you’re hurt, and you have every right to be. But if he’s finally stepping up, don’t you think it’s worth at least hearing him out?”

You bit your lip, his words sinking in. “What if he’s just going to hurt me again?”

“Then you’ll have every right to tell him to shove it. But at least you’ll know you gave him the chance to explain himself. Better than sitting here wondering what could’ve been, right?” Lando reached out, gently poking your shoulder.

Before you could respond, Oscar called for Lando, signaling it was time for him to suit up. He grabbed his helmet, flashing you a quick grin.

“Think about it, yeah? I’ve gotta go be a superstar now.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help smiling as he walked off toward his car. Elena nudged your arm, her expression teasing.

“He’s got a point, you know,” she said.

You exhaled deeply, watching as Lando climbed into his car, the hum of the engine roaring to life. Maybe it was time to stop running from this and face whatever was waiting for you.

The podium celebrations had ended, and the Qatar Grand Prix winners were back in the paddock, mingling with team members and a few drivers who had stayed behind to offer their congratulations.

The desert night was cool, but the buzz of the race still lingered in the air.

You stood nearby with Elena, chatting casually with Lando and Oscar, both still riding the adrenaline high from their stellar performances that weekend.

“Not a bad day at the office, huh?” you said to Lando, who was leaning against a table, his trademark grin on full display.

“Not bad at all,” he replied, his tone playful. “But now, it’s all about getting some rest before Abu Dhabi. That’s where the real fun is.”

Oscar chuckled, his demeanor calm as always. “Yeah, if we don’t wake up late that is. Speaking of, we should probably head out soon.”

“Agreed,” Lando added, pushing himself upright. “Gotta make sure we’re fresh for the finale.” He glanced at you and Elena. “You two are heading to Abu Dhabi later, right?”

You nodded. “We’re on the early morning flight. Guess we’ll see you there.”

“Perfect,” Lando said with a wink. “Abu Dhabi’s gonna be a party.”

The sun casts a golden glow over Abu Dhabi, illuminating the city’s gleaming architecture and turquoise waters.

You wandered through the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque with Elena, Jade, and Alex by your side, the four of you taking in the breathtaking beauty of the place. Tourists moved around you, their whispers blending into the serene atmosphere.

Elena nudged your side as you adjusted your scarf. “You’ve been quiet all morning. Still thinking about Franco?”

“What do you think?” You shot her a look, but the slight heat in your cheeks gave you away.

“I think you’re pretending to enjoy the scenery, but all you can think about is how he looked at you back in Vegas—and maybe what he said yesterday.” She smirked knowingly.

You sighed, brushing your fingers over the marble pillars. “It’s just… I don’t know what to do. He seemed so genuine, but it’s hard to forget how much he hurt me. And this is supposed to be his weekend. His last race in F1. I don’t want to distract him.”

Elena stopped walking and turned to face you, her expression soft yet serious.

“Y/N, you’re not a distraction. You’re the one thing he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about. Don’t you see it? He’s been aware of his feelings for you since Vegas, and the fact that he finally admitted them says a lot.”

You crossed your arms, feeling the weight of her words. “What if I can’t trust him again? What if I just get hurt all over?”

Elena reached out, placing a comforting hand on your arm.

“That’s a risk, yeah. But what if this time, he’s ready to prove himself to you? You’ve always been good at reading people, Y/N. Trust your gut.”

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Pulling it out, you saw Franco’s name flashing on the screen. Your heart skipped a beat, and Elena raised an eyebrow.

“Speaking of,” she said with a teasing grin.

You hesitated before answering, your voice coming out softer than you intended.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Franco’s voice was steady, but there was an undertone of nervousness. “I heard you’re out exploring the city. Do you have a minute? There’s something I want to show you.”

Elena gave you an encouraging nod, mouthing, Go.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, your pulse quickening. “Where are you?”

“Corniche Beach,” he replied. “I’ll send you the location.”

After hanging up, you turned to Elena, who was already grinning. “Go,” she urged. “I’ll be fine. Take the chance, Y/N.”

You gave her a hesitant smile before walking toward the exit. As you stepped into the warm Abu Dhabi air, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the moment where things between you and Franco would finally find clarity—or fall apart completely.

The sun dipped low over Corniche Beach, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose.

The gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore was a stark contrast to the whirlwind in your chest as you spotted Franco waiting by the railing. He was dressed casually, his hands shoved into his pockets, but the look on his face was anything but relaxed.

He straightened up when he saw you approach, his lips curving into a tentative smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you replied, stopping a few feet away.

The cool evening breeze swept through your hair, and you crossed your arms, unsure of how to start. “You wanted to see me?”

Franco nodded, exhaling deeply before gesturing toward the beach.

“Yeah, I thought this would be a good place to talk. It’s quieter.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Talk about what?”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground before meeting yours again. “Us.”

The word hung in the air between you, heavy and loaded. You swallowed hard, trying to steel yourself.

“What about us, Franco?”

He stepped closer, his expression serious yet vulnerable.

“I’ve been a complete idiot. I know that. I messed everything up in Vegas, and then I made it worse by not talking to you. I let my own fear ruin everything. But… I can’t keep pretending I don’t care about you. Because I do. I care so much it scares me.”

Your breath hitched, his words cutting through the layers of doubt and hurt that had built up over the past few weeks.

“Franco, you can’t just say that after everything,” you said, your voice wavering. “You hurt me. Do you have any idea how hard it’s been?”

“I know,” he said, his voice low and laced with regret. “I know I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. But I need you to know that it wasn’t because I didn’t care. It was because I cared too much, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

You looked at him, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. But all you saw was raw honesty, his dark eyes pleading with you to believe him.

“I kept telling myself this was fake, that it didn’t mean anything,” he continued, his voice breaking slightly. “But it wasn’t fake for me. Not then, and definitely not now.”

The weight of his confession settled over you, leaving you momentarily speechless. When you finally found your voice, it was soft but steady.

“Franco, I don’t want to be someone you’re unsure about. I don’t want to be second-guessing where I stand with you.”

“You’re not,” he said firmly, taking another step closer. “You’re not second to anything, Y/N. You’re everything. And I’m done running from it.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, the walls you’d built around it starting to crack.

“Franco, if I give this a chance—if I give you a chance—you have to promise me something.”

“Anything,” he said without hesitation.

“Be honest with me,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “No more mixed signals, no more hiding. If you’re all in, I need to know.”

He nodded, reaching for your hands. His touch was warm, grounding you as he looked into your eyes with an intensity that made your knees weak.

“I’m all in,” he said softly. “I’m not letting fear get in the way again.”

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade, the sound of the waves and the distant hum of the city becoming background noise. Then, slowly, you nodded.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Let’s do this.”

A smile broke across his face, and before you could say another word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world. You leaned into him, the weight of the past weeks lifting as the warmth of his embrace wrapped around you.

When he finally pulled back, his grin was boyish, full of relief and happiness. “You won’t regret this,” he promised.

You couldn’t help but smile, the tension in your chest finally easing. “You better not make me.”

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the beach, you felt something you hadn’t in weeks—hope.

liked by francolapinto, alexandrasaintmleux and others

ynbardot headstart in abu dhabi

elenavalor omg she finally did it 😭

— ynbardot i love you 🥹

francisca.cgomes 🥹🫶

@gridgossips not y/n soft launching franco on her feed and him immediately liking it. y’all… we’re so back. 😭

@lightsoutndaway y/n subtly dropping franco in her post and he’s out here liking it like they didn’t just have the messiest fallout? this is PEAK f1 drama

@tifosiqueen that photo of franco and y/n in her post was so soft. are they finally on good terms or are we entering relationship announcement territory? 👀✨

@pitlaneinsider not me seeing y/n and franco walking together at the paddock entrance…i thought they weren’t on speaking terms? 🧐

@colapintcentral the fact that y/n and franco are literally together at yas marina right now after WEEKS of silence has me going insane. someone explain the timeline 🥲

The roar of the crowd at Yas Marina fades into a low hum as you make your way to the paddock after the race.

The air feels thick with tension, and the pit crews are busy packing up, but all you can focus on is Franco.

You had seen him in the cockpit, his car fighting for position before that unfortunate technical issue, and now you know he's out of the race.

He didn't finish.

You walk through the garage, your heart sinking a little with every step until you spot him by his team's pit wall.

Franco's shoulders are slumped, and his gaze is fixed on the ground. He doesn’t see you at first, too caught up in the frustration of yet another DNF.

“Franco,” you call softly, and his head snaps up.

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, and for a moment, you almost regret the words that follow. “Are you okay?”

He exhales sharply, his usual confident demeanor now worn down by the race.

“I’ll live,” he says with a tight smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m just... tired since it’s already the last race. Feels like I’m always on the edge, always close, but never quite there.”

You walk closer, carefully avoiding the space around him that feels like he’s trying to keep himself distant.

“You know, you're still one of the best out there,” you say, your voice soothing despite the ache in your chest. “None of this was your fault.”

Franco lets out a frustrated sigh, rubbing his hands over his face.

“I’m not worried about that. It’s more... everything else. The pressure. The expectations. And... well,” he pauses, glancing at you through his lashes, “this.”

You swallow, trying not to let the weight of his words pull you under. “You don’t have to keep pretending with me, you know,” you murmur, stepping closer so there’s no space between the two of you.

You’re quiet for a beat, your heart hammering in your chest as his words echo in your head. It’s strange.

It’s been so easy to let things go, to keep pretending for the cameras, for the fans. But now, it feels different.

“I don’t know where we go from here,” you say, voice shaking slightly, but your eyes never leave his. “I don’t know if this is just a phase, or if we’re making something out of nothing.”

Franco steps a little closer, his hand brushing against yours.

“We take it one step at a time. No pressure. Just... let’s see where the world takes us, yeah?”

You nod, a small but relieved smile tugging at your lips. It’s not perfect. It’s not figured out.

But for the first time in a long while, you feel like maybe you’ve taken a step toward something real—something you weren’t sure you’d get.

© soleilpinto 25’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

[natailiatulls07]

You’re mine and only mine

Max Verstappen x female!driver!reader

Summary - Y/n and Max have been dating privately and now Y/n wants to share their relationship to the world

Warning - arguing, alcohol, love bites, idk

Reader drives for Ferrari

-

End of the season, this meant that everyone was celebrating. Either celebrating the world champion title or constructors cup or even just a break. So that meant that everyone was invited to one of the notorious nightclubs in Abu Dhabi.

Everyone dressed in their finest attire, ready to drink the night away with their friends, colleagues and rivals.

Y/n stood in front of the body length mirror, admiring herself in her black satin dress. Behind her on the hotel bed was Max Verstappen, this years world champion.

Despite being on different teams, Max with Redbull and Y/n with Ferrari, they had this growing romantic tension. Which lead them to have many quickies and hidden flings throughout the year.

“Remind me, when will I be able to show you off as mine to the world?” Y/n’s annoyed voice rang through Max ears.

“Just until the time is right.” Max responds. He had this gut feeling every time Y/n brought it up, Max wanted to show her off as his girlfriend but it didn’t feel right just yet.

Slipping into her louboutin heels, Y/n felt this underlying sense of shame. All she wanted was to tell the world that Max was her boyfriend but he always stopped her.

“Then when?! Or why not now?…Are you ashamed of me?” Her voice growing more somber. What if he was just ashamed of her?

“Schat, I’m not ashamed of you. Please I just don’t know how to deal with our relationship being so public” Max never wanted her to feel like that because it wasn’t true, far far from it.

“Are you sure now? Because I feel like you’re lying to me!” By now Y/n had moved from the front of the mirror, collecting her stuff before making her way to the hotel door. “I think I’m going to go…”

Before Max could speak through to her, Y/n had walked out of the hotel room. This leaving Max upset and annoyed at himself for not having any confidence. He was world champion but he felt like he had lost every race of the season.

-

Despite their fight earlier, both had to attend the party of the year. Putting on a brave face, making themselves look like nothing happened. The bright lights and music were wild, the party had definitely started by now.

Making her way to the bar, Y/n ordered herself a drink before going to find her team and teammate, Charles.

Walking into the club, Max’s eyes immediately started to search for her. He wanted to apologise to her, he wanted to kiss her forever in front of everyone.

“Hey! My favourite world champion, Max Verstappen!” Daniel’s voice shouted in excitement when he saw his former RedBull teammate.

“Hey Danny, have you seen Y/n yet?” Max’s comment caught Daniel off guard, they were rivals. Why would Max want to see her?

“No..anyways why do you want to see her? I mean she’s your rival, you hate her” Sighing in defeat, Max nodded his head. He made a mental note to keep and eye out for her.

“Oh nothing don’t worry…I need a drink” With the mention of Max’s need they made to the bar.

Meanwhile Y/n was over at the Ferrari table, talking to Charles about the season and families. “Don’t look now but Verstappen has just walked in” Charles announced to his teammate, this prompting Y/n to turn her head in the RedBull drivers direction.

Once she saw him stood there talking to Daniel, Y/n rolled her eyes still annoyed at him. “You know what mate, I just want a night without a drama so I plan on ignoring him for the rest of the evening” Y/n says to her Monégasque counterpart who, despite not knowing of their recent argument, agreed.

“Well here’s to ending the season, no dramas and having the party of our lives!” Charles raised his glass as to which Y/n soon joined his.

So that’s what they did, they had the best time. Y/n in particular as she felt Max’s sharp eyes on her the entire time. She danced to her heart content, but much to Max’s dismay Y/n had another trick up her sleeve. Of course it was petty but it was fun in her eyes.

“Hey Charles! Let’s dance!” Charles’ eye lit up, he had his own crush on his teammate. There was no surprise that he gladly accepted, taking her into his arms.

That was breaking point for Max, his girlfriend snuggling up to his long time rival since karting days on the dance floor. “Hold my drink.” He stood up, passing his beverage to Daniel who was confused as ever.

Max pushed past people, not caring. It wasn’t long until he arrived at the two Ferrari drivers. He push Charles off of Y/n before grabbing her bicep and walking her to the nearest toilet. Everyone was silent, confused and bewildered by his outburst.

Once they arrive to the toilet, Max pushed her up to the wall. “You’re mine and only mine” His lips were vicious on her neck, creating deep love bites.

Grasping from surprise, Y/n managed to push him off of her neck. “Then why are you still insisting that we keep it a secret? Because I can’t do both Max…please” Looking up at Max with pleading eyes.

It wasn’t long until he grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the toilet back towards the crowded club. When they got back to the large nightclub, everyone was staring at the two, mainly in shock.

“Um hi everyone I just want to let you all know that this beautiful girl right here” Max gestured towards Y/n who stood awkwardly at his side “Is my girlfriend and I love her so much even though she drives for Ferrari. And if you have a problem with that, please take it up with my manager” After announcing his relationship with Y/n, they both had proud smiles on their faces whilst Max dragged them out of the nightclub.

That night, Y/n and Max felt that massive anxiety being lifted off their shoulders. They could love each other freely and openly now.

-

F1 News

At the end of season, we thought that the surprises were done that was until Max Verstappen, RedBull driver, and Y/n L/n, Ferrari driver, pull off a Romeo and Juliet love story.

yourusername

I love you, Romeo 🤍

Liked by danielricciardo and 4,476,259 others

Comments disabled

maxverstappen1

Love you more, Juliet 🤍

Liked by landonorris and 3,589,975 others

Comments disabled

-

[littlemisspascal]

24 for 2024

As 2024 comes to an end and I see all these posts from mutuals summing up their triumphs and challenges of their year, it started making me think about what these last twelve months have been like for me. And like all of y'all, 2024 definitely had impacts of positives and negatives! So here are 24 things that came to mind:

I decided to go back to school for a new career opportunity. Starting January 6th, I'll be taking my first classes for court reporting/voice writing 😊 I'm both nervous and looking forward to this new adventure!

I saw several fun and great movies this year--Deadpool and Wolverine, Wicked, Gladiator 2, and Sonic the Hedgehog 3 to name a few.

I also watched a ton of great documentaries that I've meaning to check out over the past few years--Icarus, Free Solo, My Octopus Teacher, too many to count--and I'm super excited to check out more next free chance I get!

My favorite F1 driver Lando Norris not only finished first place for his first time in a race this season, but he went on to finish 2nd overall in the rankings and my heart couldn't be prouder for him 🧡

On the same F1 note, my team McLaren won the Constructors Championship for the first time since 1998 😱

There were several massive moments of family drama through the year, each more shocking than the last if you can believe it, but I like to think we'll all hopefully enter 2025 on a closer note and manage to overcome the struggles bit by bit.

Had some health scares throughout the year for my family. Scary heart issues, scary lung issues, scary hospital visits...but we got through it all and we're going to try to make 2025 our healthiest year yet!

The death of Liam Payne tore a massive hole in my heart. One Direction kept me from suicide during my high school years and each of those boys will always mean the world to me 💗

I met several of my favorite celebrities this year at cons--David Tennant, Lenore Zann, Patrick Warburton, Alan Tudyk, Catherine Tate, Adam Savage, Tem Morrison, Neil Newbon, and Giancarlo Esposito--and also got another photo with Tyler Hoechlin looking just as gorgeous as the last time I saw him!

Tried out new cosplay this year--Ahsoka's white outfit from her series, Rogue from X-Men, and a cute Peter Pan outfit as well. Actually felt a little more confident than my previous 0% 😁

A year of firsts! I finished my first ever Lego kit this year of a F1 McLaren car. I finished my first ever escape room for my sister's birthday. And I also finished first place in a scavenger hunt and won a pumpkin carved like the Mandalorian.

Found out I'm allergic to gluten, so I've been sticking to a gluten-free diet nowadays and 2025 will be an entirely gluten-free year.

Seeing the eclipse this year was amazing!

I had an emotional breakdown this year over my writing, came very very very close to deleting everything, but slowly dug my way out of the pit one word at a time. My relationship with writing is still a fragile thing, but a sentence a day is still progress and I'm trying my best. That's what matters most :)

More on writing cuz why not. Wrote a total of 43k words (a whole lot less than last year, but oh well) but even more surprising, my Marcus Acacius fic received more kudos than anything I've written since 2022 omggggg y'all thank you for the support!!

Introduced my mom to MySims and Pokémon on the switch. Slowly but surely creating a video game addict lol

Stayed up literally 48 hours with my sister playing the original Zoo Tycoon on my laptop and creating the most perfect zoo in existence. Exhaustion hit hard afterwards, but at least the guests were happy!

So much gorgeous and wonderful Pedro content--from award ceremonies to new movies + casting announcements to photoshoots and dancing sessions. The fandom just kept winning every month!

Made a web weaving for the anniversary of my fic Infinity Cube. I don't often feel proud about a lot of my attempts of creating stuff, but this little thing I actually think turned out pretty cool 😊

Bought so much Lady and the Tramp stuff oh my gosh--backpacks, a wallet, a giant stuffed animal, a Christmas ornament, little ceramic figurines hidden at the bottom of an antique store bin. I love it all ✨

Hit 5,000 followers on here. Like, what 😮 that's insane! I'm a shy porcupine who barely knows any social skills!! Thank you everyone who puts up with my sporadic posts and ramblings, it's appreciated more than I can ever say!

Everyone who liked, reblogged, kudos, and/or commented on my fics or video edits---thank you thank you thank you x a million!

Everyone who patiently waits for and supports my sporadic updates of the Pedro Library---thank you also x a million!

And finally, if you've made it all the way down here, I hope 2025 is full of kind moments for each and every one of y'all. I hope there's days full of adventures and joy and trying new things and meeting new people and petting animals and eating delicious food and making the world a little bit more of a sweeter place overall 💙

[agendabymooner]

the paddock’s lucky husband ! toto w. x ofc (hearth sister!ofc)

summary: toto wolff is a lucky man amongst other things. OR a series of tweets and clips in which tilly wolff discussed her husband and their three kids.

content warning: fictional wolff kids, tweets + video clips, use of explicit language, fluff, mentions of pregnancy, dad!Toto, established relationship, toto’s older kids being cool asf (idk their social media handles)

note: what is sleep? enjoy xx

masterlist

liked by lewishamilton, danielricciardo, loricciardo

danielricciardo i like how you didn’t post anything for a whole year since last year’s canadian gp and come back with a brand new toddler liked by tillywolff

tillywolff delmo’s grown too fast okay 🥲

danielricciardo he’s no longer allowed to 😭

user1 idk what i love the most: a year old adelmo being taught how to skate by toto or toto sleeping while adelmo’s awake

user2 you would think that tia and soren are twins just looking at the second last picture

user3 i’ve been promptly fed with toto’s back. thank you tilly 🫶

user4 girl 😅 that’s her husband

ben.wolff tia must have missed her brother ben 🥲 liked by tillywolff

tillywolff if by that you mean causing chaos in your dad’s office then yes 😂 they’re looking forward to seeing you and rosawolff 😉

rosawolff i would really prefer not to make a mess in papa’s office, thank you very much :)

rosawolff look at addie and ren :((( i miss those little stinkers liked by tillywolff

tillywolff ren’s been wondering where you’ve been so maybe this is a chance to spend some time with them!!!

lewishamilton ugh elmo’s so big now 😩 how’s lottie supposed to play with him? liked by tillywolff

tillywolff delmo doesn’t like to roughhouse don’t worry 😅

user5 tilly, baby, your child is tall like his dad 😀

TILLY WOLFF’S PREGNANCY GLOW MAKES A COME BACK AT THE 2022 MET GALA by vogue

[1st image: emma: you look like you came from a minimalist renaissance painting, might i add. tilly: thank you! you look amazing yourself. who're you wearing? e: i should be asking that question but louis vuitton and cartier. you? t: christian siriano. he did all of this on friday which i'm grateful for.]

[2nd: e: your husband, toto- he would normally attend the gala with you, right? t: yes. he actually couldn't right now because he's in miami with the kids in preparation for the grand prix. he was insisting that he should come along but i kept giving him the outline of his job roles that he can't skip out on.]

[3rd: e: he's just being a husband, if you think of it. t: yes but he's a husband who also happens to have a racing team that are hoping to contend for the world constructors championship. e: what did he say when you told him he couldn't go? t: he was rather cranky. he wasn't the typical toto who would radiate this intense energy. he was just upset i couldn't allow him to go.]

[4th: t: i'm a couple weeks away from surpassing my first trimester, and he doesn't seem to think i'd do perfectly fine on my own especially if he's away and we're not at home. he's still worried i would trip and everything as if i hadn't worn heels back when i was pregnant with soren and tia. e: you must be some sort of superwoman if you could do that while pregnant!]

[5th: t: i worked hard on it. sometimes mary janes wouldn't do my job outfit any justice and there'd be a pair of kitten heels calling for me. e: how did your poor feet feel? t: swollen. i cried after realizing i can't wear them unless i get a bigger size. but it's not anything that i couldn't get. it's mostly just toto that i have to deal with whenever he sees me slipping on some heels.]

[6th: e: who would have thought that the big bad wolff could feel the discomfort of a pregnant woman by simply looking at her? t: *laughs* he's an empath of some sort. i don't know. i've been with him for almost a decade and one of things that l've learned is that he's quite observant and wouldn't budge unless you admit that he was right about what he saw.]

Q&A WITH TILLY by tilly marie

[1st image: what smell brings back good memories?]

[2nd: what could be a scent that brings back good memories? this is quite hard... i think i would say baby powder? *laughs* it sounds quite peculiar but it's something that reminds me that l've got the best things that could have happened to me. which are my children.]

[3rd: it's not really that peculiar, if i come think of it. there are people that like the smell of gasoline still to this day. i have spent years in garages and l've had my fair share of smoking experiences- those scents were addicting but the baby powder? extremely addictive. you won't have any issue with your lungs too.]

ATTENDING THE DIOR HAUTE COUTURE SHOW by tilly marie

clip one — soren’s wake up call… literally

[1st image: the breakfast came it quite late today and my neighbour's playing the most awful songs in the morning. i absolutely thought that i was going to have the most horrendous day at the haute couture show then my husband just rang and it turned out it was soren who called me early in the morning to say hi. he stole his papa's phone from the bedside and somehow knew the passcode. or it's probably his face id that did it. who knows.]

[2nd: i was telling him about how hungry i was because my breakfast wasn't ready, so my sweet boy didn't even hesitate to run downstairs to "cook"- he began to grab pans and eggs to "cook." thankfully toto had gotten up by then otherwise soren would've gotten into some sort of accident just trying to make me an omelette from brackley. i'm in paris but my sweet boy thinks he could send the breakfast my way as soon as possible.]

clip two — tilly shows how adelmo moves

[1st image: tilly: do you wanna see how adelmo dances to aladdin's "friend like me?" cameraman: yes of course. why not? tilly: great, this is how his little 2 year old self dances with the genie]

[2nd: *hums in adelmo torger lewis wolff*]

clip three — tia is the spoiled cub of the cubs

[1st image: i think i should try to put tia in my purse and take her with me on a show next time because i- *laughs* i can't behave by myself anymore. tia would most likely be scolding me and she'd be so happy to see all of these clothes. then she'd probably ask it she could get a dress tailored for her from the haute couture collection.]

[2nd: now that i think of it, she's most likely to empty toto's wallet in one go. whenever she and toto goes out for some daddy-daughter time, tia would return with her papa carrying shitloads of shopping bags. the sad case is that they all came from harrods- but that's the only place we could go without being hounded by cameras. still... toto goes all out for her all the time.]

[vampstappen]

On a funny note, a mutal of mine showed me separate videos of Max being directed by photographers to turn around and redo a kiss with Kelly (after she had gestured to them) to be capture the "candid moments of their joy." Another video Max is going to weigh himself in parc ferme, you hear Kelly start shouting his name, and then you literally can hear Max say "oh no." I do not think he's fully happy with her and being with her. // not that anon but the redoing the kiss so Kelly has perfect couple content to post is from Austin 2022 when red bull won the constructors. The weighing video is from Monaco 2021! Max has not been happy with Kelly’s “I’m the celebrity in the relationship and all he has ever won is because of ME” show since the spring/summer of 2021. They were together for like 6 months maximum at the time. Kelly went that crazy in Monaco that year because maxs ex dilara was with friends in Monaco watching the race. At that time Kelly copied dilaras old paddock outfits as well multiple times. And yes you hear max clearly say “oh no” during the video from Monaco. She then went on to copy the famous picture of Nicole kissing Lewis’s helmet after a race win as well. Kelly went crazy that year. She cuddled with photographers as well multiple times if I remember correctly.

oh she is insane let me fly to monaco and save that man