rodmantrinitysoccer

[rodmantrinitysoccer]

STOP HYPOCRISY

I'm not a fan of Nick Bosa, but all this repudiation from some people on this site about his political choice is nothing more than complete hypocrisy! What world were you living in? It's been known since his draft pick (back in 2019) that he was a MAGA, he had several prejudiced and pro-Trump tweets that he had to delete so as not to tarnish his image, and now you come with this talk that you were surprised by his opinion, when at the beginning of this year he was all smiles with Trump in the UFC? Go find something useful in life to do instead of giving your opinion on other people's lives and making up fake news and putting on a show of hypocrisy. P.S: I'm sure there must be other players who are pro-Trump (including your favorites), but the difference is that Bosa had the courage to speak out, so why don't you attack these other players too?

[rodmantrinitysoccer]

Cat Mom 🤝 Cat Dad

Max likes being anonymous on these bengal cat forums. He likes making friends and talking about his cats without his own name attached to it. The Italian princess likes the same thing (jeez I wonder what happens next)

I had to do a special one for the actual day of my birthday lol

Jim&Sass

Help! My cat got stuck in another room!

Jam&Toast

Dude get offline and go help them!

Jim&Sass

What do I do! The door is stuck!

Jam&Toast

Get a hammer!

Max did just that. He didn't knew the person giving him advice, but he knew her cats. Jam and Toast. Her post showing off her pretty cats, two bengals, were how he knew her. There was nothing else about her, just her cats.

It wasn't a lot that he knew about it, but it was enough. He didn't know that she was sitting eagerly by her laptop, waiting for his confirmation that his cat was all right.

Jimmy and Sassy's dad was an enigma. But Jimmy and Sassy looked sweet and the stories he told about them were adorable.

That was what she called him in her head, Jimmy and Sassy's dad. She was sure her name in his head was similar. Jam and Toast's mum.

Jam&Toast

Did you get them out?

There was a moment where he didn't respond, where he must have been getting the cat out of the other room. Her perfectly manicured nail was between her teeth, but she didn't bite down.

Her nail had been perfectly done for when the driver's arrived for Monza.

His icon popped up in the bottom of the screen, three little dots beside it. She leaned forward as his message appeared on her screen.

Jim&Sass

Sassy is safe

Not sure what I'm gonna do about the giant whole in my door

Jam&Toast

Oh, you've got to show me that door

A picture from him came through within seconds. There was his door, with a decent sized hole in the middle of it.

Jam&Toast

Holy shit, dude

Jim&Sass

Trust me, I know

He was easy to talk to. Grabbing her laptop, she sat herself on her bed, placed her laptop on her bed, and settled down for the night. Jam and Toast, her two Bengal cats, were curled around each other at her feet, fast asleep.

She turned her laptop around and awkwardly snapped a picture of her two sleeping cats. The picture wasn't the greatest, and it was kind of hard to see two cats laying there, but she sent it anyway.

He sent pack a picture of Sassy licking a yoghurt treat from his hand.

They could have spent the entire night talking, the conversation branching away from their cats, but Jimmy and Sassy's dad had to go. She didn't ask where he was going, wished him safe travels and shut her laptop for the night.

***

Jimmy and Sassy's dad hadn't been online since Wednesday. She hadn't expected him to message her while he was away, having fun. But she did miss him. She missed talking about Jam and Toast to somebody that wouldn't brush her off, missed hearing about his cats.

It was Sunday, and she was on the grid. It was a bit of fun, going down to the grid. Sometimes Martin Brundle attempted to speak to her on his Grid Walk.

She stood by the Ferrari, talking to her good friend, Charles Leclerc. When Martin Brundle tried to speak to her, her security guard sent him away.

"Did you hear about Max's cats?" Charles asked after she had told him all about the stuff Jam and Toast had been doing that week. At least he wasn't changing the subject completely.

She frowned at him. "Max Verstappen?" She asked and Charles nodded.

"One of his cats got stuck in a storage room, nearly broke his arm trying to get her out."

She glanced from side to side, trying to look for Max on the grid.

***

Max watched as the Italian Princess approached him with the trophy. It wasn't a win, but he was still grinning. Charles had won Monza in a Ferrari, and Max was proud.

The Princess smiled at him. Max didn't want to consider it flirty, but he didn't know how else to interpret it.

After the Italian national anthem, they left the podium. Max grinned down at his trophy before throwing his arm around Charles' shoulder.

He saw the Italian Princess striding towards them. Stepping back, Max watched as she threw her arms around Charles. They spoke in Italian as she looked at the trophy Charles held.

Max went to move around them, but the Princess fixed him with a look. "How are Jimmy and Sassy?" She asked, letting go of Charles.

His cheeks were pink as he answered her. "They're good," he answered. "With the cat sitter, probably being naughty."

It wasn't a terrible response, but he wasn't getting it. "Max," she said and took a step closer. He was trying so hard not to look weirded out, she could tell. Her hand was on her hip, head slightly tipped to the side. "When are you flying back home?"

He answered and she checked the dainty watch on their wrist. "Do you think you have time to come and meet my cats, Jam and Toast?"

The surprise on his face was evident. "No fucking way."

[rodmantrinitysoccer]

(via Instagram)

[rodmantrinitysoccer]

Mesmerizing Circle Sunset

[rodmantrinitysoccer]

Baby fever

Pairing: Mac Verstappen x Girlfriend!reader

Warnings: baby fever

Summary: Max gets the baby fever after seeing Y/n with his nephews.

I always knew that my life was destined to follow the straight and fast line of a Formula 1 track. Since I was a child, racing cars were my focus, my passion. The idea of starting a family one day was always there, but it never occupied my thoughts. At least, not until I met Y/n.

From the first time I saw her, I knew she would be the love of my life and the person I wanted to build a future with. But we live life one day at a time, and even though we’ve made plans for the future, it wasn't something we were in a rush to pursue.

My sister Victoria gave birth to little Hailey a few weeks ago, and today we were going to meet her for the first time. She and Y/n have been messaging each other every day since Hailey was born, trying to find the right day for our visit.

When we arrived, Victoria and Thomas were in the living room, visibly tired but radiating happiness. Besides the little baby, they also had my two other nephews, who, though older, still required a lot of attention. I couldn't imagine how exhausted they must be.

We eagerly approached to meet little Hailey.

"You arrived just in time," Victoria said, her voice soft but full of enthusiasm. "She just woke up. Do you want to hold her?"

I was going to hold her first, but seeing Y/n’s eyes shining with emotion and excitement, I quickly gestured for her to go ahead.

Victoria handed Hailey to Y/n, who took her with the utmost care, then sat on the couch and patted the spot next to her for me to sit beside her. Y/n held her for a while before handing the baby to me before she fell asleep so we wouldn’t disturb her.

The light weight in my arms was something incredibly significant for me, even though I had held Luka and Lio many times when they were babies, every time felt like the first.

Hailey, with her big, bright eyes, looked at me with innocent curiosity. She had rosy cheeks and a serene expression, almost as if she were absorbing the world around her for the first time. My heart, accustomed to the fast pace of racing, seemed to slow down in that moment.

Y/n moved closer to me on the couch, gently touching the baby’s arm. "She’s so beautiful, Max."

"She really is." I replied, still surprised by the strength of the emotion washing over me. There was something deeply moving about holding this small human being who was part of my family.

As Hailey moved her hands slightly, almost as if she were trying to hold someone’s finger, I began to imagine what it would be like if that baby was ours. A part of me always believed I was far from being ready to be a father, that my life was too fast-paced to accommodate something so big and important. But in that moment, I felt a shift, something I couldn’t ignore.

"Are you okay, Max?" Y/n asked, noticing the silence that had settled between us.

"Yes," I replied, smiling softly. "I’m just watching her. I'm afraid to speak too loudly and scare her."

She smiled back, but there was a deep understanding in her eyes. Y/n has always been able to read me like no one else, and I knew she understood that I didn’t wanted to share what was on my mind at the moment.

After a few minutes, Thomas entered the room with Luka, my oldest nephew, who immediately ran into Y/n’s arms. They’ve always had a special connection, something I’ve always admired. Seeing the two of them together brought me a quiet joy, something I was beginning to value more each day.

Y/n had disappeared for a little while earlier while I was still holding the baby. When Hailey fell asleep in my arms, I handed her back to my sister, who went to put her in her crib. Tom had just gone to put Lio down for his afternoon nap, and I went to find my girlfriend.

I heard laughter coming from the backyard, where a scene unfolded that made my heart leap once again. Luka was laughing, running around the yard with contagious energy, while Y/n chased him, their laughter mingling in the air in a way that made the world seem lighter.

I stood there for a moment, just watching. There was something deeply familiar about Luka, as if I were looking at a miniature version of myself. It was something we always laughed about because he looked just like me. Y/n was always amazed at how similar we were, saying he could easily pass as my son.

He was the spitting image of the Verstappen family, and seeing him so happy and at ease with Y/n made me think about how she would be as a mother.

I always knew Y/n had a special way with children, but seeing the genuine and joyful connection between her and Luka made something bloom inside me. An idea that, until then, I had kept somewhere distant in my mind.

"She gets along well with him, doesn’t she?" Victoria’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"She really does," I replied, without taking my eyes off the scene in front of me.

"Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?" she asked, smiling as if she had caught me in the act.

"Maybe," I admitted, feeling my face heat up. "I never really thought about it before, but... I think something has changed."

Victoria nodded, understanding without needing more explanations. "Babies have that effect. They make you see the world in a different way. And from what I see, you and Y/n would make great parents."

“Thank you. She would definitely be a great mom,” I said before starting to laugh at their giggles.

The idea hit me with an almost frightening clarity. What once seemed like a distant dream now felt like a real, tangible possibility. I knew my life would never be normal, that the travel, the races, and the constant pressure would always be a part of me. But seeing Y/n laughing with Luka, I realized there was room for something more. For a family. For a future that, until then, I had never dared to imagine.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky with soft shades of orange and pink, Y/n approached me, still smiling, her face lit up by the simple happiness of the moment.

"What is it?" she asked, noticing my expression.

"I was just thinking," I replied, gently pulling her closer to me, "that maybe one day... we could have something like this."

“Like?”

“A house with our kids running around.” I said and she looked at me, surprised, but then her smile widened, full of love and understanding.

"You think so?"

"I know so." I said, with a certainty I never thought I would have. "And I can't wait for it."

"I can't wait either," she said, giving me a quick kiss. "Though I find it almost impossible to imagine a child that looks you than Luka. But I’m sure that if our kids look like you and we take Luka and Lio with us they’ll all look like our kids."

I started laughing as Luka continued to play around us, and with the soft sound of the wind filling the space between us, I realized that the dream of having a family, something I never knew I wanted, was becoming clearer. It was a dream I wanted to share with Y/n, a new kind of race that I was eager to begin.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“Family time”

[rodmantrinitysoccer]

[rodmantrinitysoccer]

LAKE. / JB22.

— Word Count, 1.4k

— Pairing, Jenson Button & Fem!Reader.

— Summary, When you get P6 in a race you feel quite down and Jenson notices so he helps you get back up by talking to you and inviting you to his house by the lake.

— Note, I made this for mark webber but then made it jenson last second so if there’s anything wrong I’m sorry!!

The roar of the engine filled your ears as you guided your formula 2 car around the track, the wind whipping past your helmet. Every curve, every straight, demanded your full attention, yet a nagging doubt tugged at the back of your mind. You knew the stakes were high; every race was another chance to prove yourself, but the pressure was overwhelming.

As you pulled into the pits, your team swarmed around you, checking every detail of the car. You removed your helmet, running a hand through your sweat-soaked hair, your heart still pounding from the intensity of the race. The results flashed on the screen—Better than some, but not where you need to be.

From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of a familiar figure at the edge of the garage. Jenson Button , former F1 star and current mentor, watched you with a calm yet intense gaze. He was younger than the seasoned veteran everyone remembered from his  Brawn and Mclaren days, yet his presence was just as commanding. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you, a bond that had formed over countless hours on and off the track. He’d taken you under his wing after recognizing your potential, and over time, he’d become more than just a mentor—he was like a father figure, someone who understood the pressure of motorsport in a way few others could.

After a debriefing session with your engineers, you found yourself sitting on a bench near the paddock, the bustle of the race weekend continuing around you, but you felt isolated, trapped in your own thoughts. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the tarmac. Your mind replayed every lap, every mistake, every missed opportunity.

jenson approached, his casual stride at odds with the intensity of the racing world. He sat down beside you, his usual relaxed demeanor intact, though his eyes were sharp, taking in your every expression.

“Rough day out there,” he said, his voice carrying that familiar Australian drawl, seasoned with years of experience and wisdom.

You nodded, staring down at your gloves, still clenched in your lap. “I just—I don't know, jenson. I'm trying so hard, but it feels like I'm always falling short. I'm not sure if I'm cut out for this.”

jenson was quiet for a moment, letting your words hang in the air. Finally, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, looking out at the track with a thoughtful expression. “You know, when I was in your shoes, I had my fair share of doubts too. There were times when I wondered if I'd ever make it to F1, let alone succeed there. But you've got something special, and it's not just your talent. It's your determination, your drive. That's what will set you apart.”

You looked up to him, searching his face for the reassurance you so desperately needed. “But what if it's not enough? What if I can't live up to everyones expectations?”

jenson turned to face you fully, his expression softening. “You're not out there to meet anyone else's expectations, kid. You're out there because you love this sport, because you've got the fire in you to push through the tough times. And trust me, you will. We all have setbacks, but it's how you come back  from them that matters.”

His words sank in, easing some of the tension that had built up over the race weekend. jenson had been where you were, faced the same doubts, and yet he’d come out the other side. If he believed in you, maybe it was time you started believing in yourself too.

Later that evening, after most of the teams had packed up and the paddock was quieting down, jenson suggested a change of scenery. “Come on,” he said, grabbing his jacket. “Let's get out of here. I’ve got a spot where we can clear our heads.”

Curious but trusting, you followed him to the car, and soon you were driving out of the bustling city, the lights fading in the rearview mirror as you ventured into the quiet countryside. The hums of the engine was soothing, a steady backdrop to your swirling thoughts. jenson didn’t push you to talk, and you appreciated the silence.

After a while, jenson turned onto a narrow, tree-lined road that wound its way up a gentle hill. At the top, he pulled up to a small, cozy house nestled on the edge of a lake. The sunset casted a warm, golden glow over the water, reflecting off the surface like a mirror. The air was crisp and clean, a refreshing change from the smoky scent of the track.

“This place has always helped me when I needed to get away from it all,” jenson said as he stepped out of the car. “Figured it might do the same for you.”

You followed him down to the water’s edge, taking in the peaceful surroundings. The calm of the lake and the soft rustling of the trees provided a stark contrast to the noise and chaos of the race. The tension that had been gripping your chest slowly began to ease as you breathed in the fresh air, the tranquility of the setting seeping into bones.

jenson joined at the water’s edge, standing beside you in a comfortable silence. He seemed completely at ease here, far removed from the high-stakes world of formula 1 that had once consumed his life.

“You know,” he said after a while, “you don’t have to do this alone. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. If you need someone to talk to, or even someone to sit with, I’m your guy.”

You smiled, genuine warmth spreading through you at his words. “Thanks, jenson. That means a lot.”

He chuckled softly. “It’s what I'm here for, kid. I’ve been where you are. It’s tough, no doubt about it. But you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and you’ve got the heart to match. That’s what’s going to get you through this.”

The two of you sat on the grass  by the lake, the sky above slowly darkening as stars began to appear. jenson started telling you stories from his early days in Formula 1, the highs and lows, the

struggles and triumphs. His voice was steady, his tone light as if recalling those memories brought him peace.

You listened, soaking in every word, every bit of advice he offered. There was something comforting about hearing how even someone as accomplished as Jenson Button had faced his own battles. It made your own struggles seem less daunting, more manageable.

As the night deepened, jenson leaned back on his elbows, looking up at the sky. “You know, when I was racing, there were moments when I thought about giving up. But then I'd think about all the people who believed in me,who’d helped me get to where I was. That's what kept me going. And you've got people who believe in you too, more than you realize.”

You glanced over at him, the moonlight casting soft shadows across his face. “You're one of those people, aren't you?”

He smiled, a small knowing smile. “Yeah , I am. And I'm not going to let you forget it.”

A comfortable silence settled over you both, the sounds of the night filling the air. Crickets chirped, and the gentle lapping of the lake against the shore was soothing, a steady rhythm that mirrored the calmness you were beginning to feel inside.

After a while, jenson stood up, stretching his arms above his head. “Come on, let's get inside. It's getting cold out here.”

You followed him back to the house, the warmth inside welcoming after the cool night air. jenson showed you to a guest room, simple but cozy with a soft bed and a window that overlooked the lake. As you lay down, the events of the day slowly fade from your mind, replaced by a growing sense of peace.

Before he left, jenson paused in the doorway, “get some rest, kid tommorrows a new day, and it's another chance to show what you're made of.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion finally catch up with you. “goodnight , jenson and… thanks, for everything.”

He gave a reassuring smile “anytime. Goodnight.”

As he closed the door, you stared up at the ceiling, your mind quiet for the first time in days. jenson’s words echoed in your thoughts, grounding you, giving the strength you needed to keep going. You weren't alone in this journey, and with someone like jenson by your side, you knew you could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

And maybe, just maybe, you'd prove yourself that you were worthy of the dreams you were chasing.

©Ladystasia, do not copy, or translate to any platforms.

[rodmantrinitysoccer]

Shaving Practice : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: as you reluctantly say goodbye to charles' beard, he finds himself wanting a helping hand in order to get rid of it

Your footsteps were quiet as you made your way across to the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe. Charles was stood, unaware of your presence behind him, as his hands brushed through his hair before running along his jawline, noticing just how long his beard was beginning to get, frowning at how uncomfortable it was. 

“So handsome,” you jokingly commented, making Charles jump as he twirled around to come face to face with you. “Sorry, didn’t mean to make you jump,” you added as you walked further into the room. 

Charles’ head shook as he pressed a kiss against the top of your head. “I wasn’t expecting you to be home so early, I thought I’d have time to get rid of this thing before you got back and tried to argue with me that I couldn’t.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re going clean shaven again?” 

Charles’ head nodded, much to your dissatisfaction. As you went to protest, Charles turned around anyway and began filling the sink with water, grabbing his shaving foam from the cupboard. You leant back against the wall and watched as Charles began to apply the foam to his face. 

“Is this really necessary? Can’t you just trim it or something?” You tried to suggest, but Charles shook his head. “You know what you with a beard does to me Charles.” 

“I know, and it’ll grow back,” he tried his best to assure you, picking up his razor. “But for now I just need to tidy myself up for a bit, and that means getting rid of all of this.” 

“You promise you’re going to grow it back?” You challenged, wanting to hear it one more time from Charles. “I don’t get why you don’t love the beard as much as I do.” 

Another laugh came from Charles as you continued to protest behind him.  “I do like it,” Charles smirked as he took the lid off of his razor. “But sometimes I just prefer to be clean shaven for a while, I guess it just depends on how I’m feeling.” 

You moved closer to Charles, resting your hand on his shoulder as he started to run his razor along his face. “I bet all of your fans would agree that the beard is better anyway.” 

Your eyes looked nowhere else but at Charles as he continued to shave the right side of his face. He could feel you watching, glancing briefly to look at the concentration in your face as you studied him, admiring how gentle his movements were to make sure that he didn’t hurt himself. 

After a few minutes Charles came to a stop, turning around to face you. Once he had rinsed the razor off in the sink he held it out to you, a wide smile on his face as your brows knitted together. 

“I can feel you watching me, so now it’s your turn to do it instead.” 

“You’re trusting me to shave your face?” 

Charles nodded as you took the razor from his hand, moving closer to him so that you could see. “You’ve shaved yourself enough times, it’s only the same as that, just this time you’re shaving a face. Surely you can’t mess it up.” 

You looked to Charles questionably, impressed by how well he trusted you to shave him without making a mess. “This is either going to be the smartest or stupidest thing you suggest that we do just so you know.” 

“I trust that you’ll take good care of me,” Charles proudly told you as he felt your hand hold onto his chin as you began to shave the other side of his face. “This feels like the sort of thing they do in the movies.” 

You could only hum in reply to Charles as you didn’t want to lose your concentration. Whilst you focused, his arm couldn’t help but snake around your frame as Charles kept you as close to him as possible. 

Although Charles always knew you’d do a careful job of helping him shave, he couldn’t help but feel his heart race at just how concentrated you were. As much as it pained you to say goodbye to his beard, you knew that it was the right thing to do and Charles’ choice.  

“I’m looking good,” he smirked as you began to wash some of the foam off of his face from where you had shaven, impressed by how good of a job you’d done. “Now it’s time to get rid of your favourite bit though, my chin.” 

Your eyes rolled but you knew it needed to be done. “As much as it pains me to shave it off, I can’t have you going out looking like you do right now, people will think you’re a right weirdo.” 

“I’m a weirdo for you,” Charles remarked, hearing you scoff beside him. 

Your head shook in disbelief at his comment, “sometimes I wonder if you hear the things you say in your head before you say them aloud?” 

“I’m just distracting you from the fact you’re shaving my beard off,” he laughed in reply. 

Your conversations continued as you carried on your job of shaving Charles. You were cautious with every stroke, hearing light giggles come from Charles every time he felt you tickle his face or panic when you thought you might’ve hurt him.  

Every so often you took a step back, studying Charles’ face to make sure that you didn’t miss a bit. “Stop it,” you whispered as you did so, feeling the intense stare of his eyes looking at you, silently asking for you to meet his eyes. 

Charles innocently smiled as you placed the razor down, content that you had shaven every hair from his face. “I’m not doing anything,” he smirked, tickling gently against your waist now that the razor was done. 

Your hand reached into the sink, picking up some water and flicking it at Charles to try and deter him away. “You’ve just made me shave your beloved beard, there’s no way I’m sleeping with you right now.” 

“Why not?” Charles chuckled, wiping his face with the material of his shirt. “We could use this as an opportunity for me to remind you how good I can also make you feel without the beard,” he hummed, pulling your frame closer towards him, only a few centimetres between you both. 

“It still won’t be as good as the beard,” you jokingly protested. 

Charles began to pepper kisses along your neck, brushing his smooth skin against yours. “I don’t think you can make an assumption like that without trying it out.” 

You tried your best to ignore what Charles was doing, but as one of his hands began to trail further down your body you found yourself very quickly losing control. 

Charles could feel your body tense up too as his lips trailed up to your sweet spot just below your ear. “I think you secretly fancy me just as much without the beard as you do with it, all you have to do is say the word and I’m all yours my love.” 

Momentarily Charles pulled away from you, allowing his eyes to meet your own. “You’re enjoying this too much,” you scolded as Charles proudly nodded back at you. 

His eyebrows raised as he admired the expression on your face. “I don’t think I’m the only one that’s enjoying this, you seem to be a little bit flustered there cherie.” 

“I hate the things that you do to me sometimes., you’re the worst Charles LeClerc.” 

A snigger came from Charles, “I’m still waiting to hear what you want from me.” 

“I mean, we might as well try now that we’re here, Charlie.” 

“I’ll prove you wrong my love.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[rodmantrinitysoccer]

What Could Have Been

Lando Norris is dead. He isn't human, he doesn't remember being human. Well, he didn't remember, not until he saw her. Until he saw her and her baby bump.

Warnings: Death (not described, person is just dead), pregnancy, birth

Viv's AUgust Event

Lando Norris didn't remember being human. He didn't remember the joys that came with enjoying his favourite foods or the feeling of rain against his skin. He didn't remember what it was to be a human.

That's the way it was for so many demons, and it was a good thing. Those who did remember went crazy. They lost the demon part of themselves, but they certainly weren't human.

Lando didn't care about remembering his humanity. It wouldn't do him any good. He wandered the streets, the streets he didn't care to know from being human. It didn't matter to him, they were just streets.

But then he saw her. Hidden in the shadows, Lando saw saw her.

She was so pretty, that was the first thing he noticed. Even demons could appreciate beauty. But there was more than that. The longer he stared at her, the more memories came back. Fuck, he was remembering being human.

Lando had a whole life with this woman when he was human. They'd met when they were teenagers, had dated later on in life. He had been so in love with her, held her close any chance he got. The day he died, he'd left her behind, left her on her own.

Lando watched from the shadows, as the shadows, as she spoke to a friend. He knew the friend, but she wasn't important.

His girl turned to the left, and Lando saw a rather large baby bump. That baby was his. Well, the man that he used to be. Not his any longer.

She cradled her bump as she said goodbye to the other woman and continued with her shopping.

Lando followed her around the shop. If anybody got to close to her, they were mysteriously moved out of the way. Nobody was allowed to touch his girl.

He followed her to the cashier, followed her out of the store and followed her back home. The home they shared, he remembered that now. He remembered walking through that door after a long weekend at the track to her jumping into his arms. It didn't matter what time it was, she was always awake, always ready to jump into his arms.

He watched through black eyes as she placed her bags down on the the kitchen floor and stretched her arms up. Nobody was running to help her put the shopping away, and Lando hated it. Somebody should have been helping her. He didn't care who it was; somebody should have been helping.

She stopping putting away the shopping before she had finished and moved her hand over her bump. "I miss your daddy," she mumbled to it. "I miss him so much."

She moved through the apartment and made her way to the bathroom. As she did, Lando saw his opportunity. He put away some of the shopping, made it easier on her. But he didn't put it all away, made it seem like he hadn't done anything at all.

Lando watched over her. Until the day she died, he didn't stop watching over her.

He watched as, in the eighth month of her pregnancy, she was evicted from the apartment they shared. He used his demonic powers to help with the move in whatever way he could, until she was comfortable in her mothers house.

From the shadows he watched the birth of his son. His beautiful baby boy, the baby boy he would never get to hold. He was small and screaming and utterly, utterly, perfect. He looked just like him.

The first time his mother held him, she sobbed, cried out of him. But he couldn't be there, cursed to stay hidden in the shadows.

Watching him grow up was hard. He was so close but so far away. Sometimes he looked at Lando, and Lando thought he could see him. But when he waved, his son had no reaction.

His heart broke, but Lando never stopped watching over him.

[rodmantrinitysoccer]

Love Story - OP81

Summary: Oscar has always loved y/n, but now they're grown and her dad thinks he's better off without her. But Oscar and y/n disagree.

This is inspired by Love Story by Taylor Swift

Themes/warnings: F1 rookie!Oscar (based in 2023), Parents projecting onto child (mentioned)

Word count: 1k

No part 2 requests please

Oscar remembers how truly innocent and happy y/n was when they met. Just a little girl who had big ambitions and maybe a mouth too big and unfiltered for her own good.

She landed herself in trouble a lot thanks to that.

But Oscar has always loved her.

Now they're older you'd think her dad would step back from warding the Aussie off.

In truth, y/n is not nearly as bad as her dad plays her to be. She is a toxic combination of both her parents, and that includes some of their worse traits of which they hate within themselves.

Oscar just doesn't share the same issue.

"I thought I told you to stay away from y/n." Y/d/n states answering the door as Oscar appears for their date.

"He doesn't have to listen to you." Y/n huffs nudging past the man as she pulls on her jacket and smiles seeing Oscar. "We'll see you later, dad."

Oscar smiles actually very much loving how strong his girlfriend his. There's not a time he comes to see her that he doesn't feel impressed by how much she'll not allow her family to make her feel as low as they do.

"I wish I never had to go back there some days. Life with you is much better than anyone else." Y/n smiles as they drive off.

"I know I've been busy." Oscar sighs indirectly addressing his absence.

"You are living the dream. I just wish I got to live it with you." Y/n shrugs then smiling. "I'll more than happily settle for few and far between moments that mean a lot than never at all."

"You know you are an adult. You don't need your parents permission to do stuff anymore."

"That's easy to when you're in a position of not living with your parents...especially now you get paid for living your dream." Y/n smiles watching him love over at her with a smile. "Once I've figured out my dream job, then the world has something to watch out for."

"An ideas yet?"

"No. Nothing yet." Y/n smiles as Oscar leans his hand over. "Anyway, enough about questions that do have answers and problems that could be easily solved. Where are we going today?"

Oscar smirks with a small shrug.

-

Y/n is a glowing ball of light around Oscar. He could watch her enjoy time with him forever.

F1 is his life. But y/n gives him life.

She's home. Her presence feels safe and warm.

And when he's not there he worries about her, she's loves him with her whole hard and she's got a hardy exterior when handling her parents who do their most to bring her down and sabotage her.

"One day I do want this to be our everyday." Y/n sighs rolling over on the picnic blanket.

"It should be our everyday." Oscar states making her smile shifting up to kiss him. "I love you."

"I love you too...I'm sorry I haven't figured out a way so I can stay with you as much as possible so this could be our every day." Y/n sighs making Oscar frown. The idea of Y/n blaming herself for this only makes Oscar grumble just from the thought. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Act like I'm not to blame." Y/n smiles then fiddling with Oscar's hand.

"You remember when we were younger and you'd ask me to take you with me to every race because you wanted to be my number 1 fan and supporter."

"But I couldn't go because I couldn't afford it and my parents refused to pay it." Y/n sighs softly before she rolls onto her back and stares up at the sky for a few moments before closing her eyes, immersing herself in the warmth of the sun and in Oscar's presence. "We've known each other such a long time-and for the record, if I'm not considered your number 1 fan then I'll take insult."

"You are definitely my number one fan." Oscar grunts as he sits up smiling a little as a thought dawns on him. "What if we got married?"

"Well that's sort of the plan, Oscar." Y/n laughs before feeling his hand pat her stomach.

"No. I mean now-or as soon as possible. We can get to a registry office, sign the papers and be married."

"I-Are you serious?" Y/n questions sitting up and looking at her boyfriend.

"You've talked about running away with me for years. I've listened and I think...we're too old for you to run away but that doesn't mean you can't come with me and leave anyway." Oscar shrugs before finding himself thudding back against the blanket, which doesn't do much to cushion the ground.

His lips pressed to y/n's as she gives him a kiss that you'd think was giving him air.

"Is that a yes?" Oscar asks once she finally moves back, panting slightly though it could be out of excitement as much as anything else.

"That is without a doubt a yes. Let's go. Come on. Come on, let's move. Let's get a move on and find a registry office."

Oscar has never had any doubt about y/n, some men might be put off by a girl who talks so openly about running away to be with him, leaving her family and impulsively marrying him. But this is their love. This is two people who belong together.

Their love story has had a lot of chapters and it will have a lot more. Hell this could be consider volume 2 of their story.

"Oscar?" Y/n mumbles as he begins to help to pack things away. "You want this don't you?"

"I want this very much. I want you." Oscar confirms having seen her worry coming from a mile off.

"Ok." Y/n nods before leaning over and kissing him again. "Let's do this."

[rodmantrinitysoccer]

Piece of Cake

Lando Norris x McLaren reserve driver!Reader x platonic!Oscar Piastri

Summary: McLaren hands their drivers a blindfold, a pair of headphones, and a roll of duct tape to bake burn a cake … it goes about as well as can be expected

Based on this request

You stroll into the McLaren motorhome, gym bag slung over your shoulder, earbuds in as you listen to your pre-race pump-up playlist. Being the team’s reserve driver is a dream come true — you get to be around the cutting-edge of Formula 1 and some of the brightest minds in motorsport.

And if chance should have it, you could even sub in for one of the race drivers. The thrill of potential sends a tingle down your spine.

As you round the corner, you nearly walk straight into Lando, who’s got his jaw set in that brooding, focused way he gets right before a race weekend. His eyes light up when he sees you.

“Y/N! There you are,” he says, a dazzling smile emerging. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You pull out your earbuds. “What’s up? Everything okay for the race?”

He runs a hand through his perfectly tousled hair. “Race? Oh, pfft, who cares about that? We’ve got bigger problems to solve today.”

You raise an eyebrow. Lando has a flair for the dramatic.

He goes on, “We’ve been roped into doing this absolutely mental social media challenge video. Something about … baking? I dunno, to be honest, I stopped listening after they said one of us had to do it blindfolded.”

“Blindfolded?” You repeat, already regretting asking.

That’s when Oscar pops his head out from the kitchen area, hastily re-taping his mouth shut with bright orange duct tape. He flashes you a goofy thumbs up.

“So get this,” Lando continues, not missing a beat, “You’re the blindfolded one. I have to wear noise-canceling headphones so I can’t hear anything. And poor Oscar ...” He gestures over his shoulder at the other driver, who gives an exaggerated shrug. “Can’t speak a word, obviously.”

You look between the two of them, dumbfounded. “And we’re meant to … bake? Like, an actual cake or something?”

“Yep!” Lando says brightly. Too brightly. He claps you on the shoulder. “Should be a right laugh, eh? Let’s get started then!”

And just like that, the chaos begins.

After some shuffling about and giggling fits from the boys, you find yourself standing at the kitchen counter, a thick blindfold secured over your eyes.

You strain your other senses, trying to get your bearings. The hum of the overhead lights, the chemical tang of cleaning products, and was that … vanilla? You give an experimental sniff. Definitely vanilla.

A presence appears at your side and you nearly jump out of your skin when a hand grasps your wrist, guiding your fingers to what feels like … a whisk? Lando leans in close, his cologne surrounding you.

“Okay, I can’t hear myself think in these bloody headphones, but I’m going to talk you through the recipe step-by-step,” he murmurs, warm breath tickling your ear. You shiver involuntarily. “Just, y’know … do whatever feels right, I guess?”

With that enormously unhelpful advice, he releases your wrist and you feel him retreat. You’re flying blind — quite literally.

Then there’s a tap on your other arm. You turn, whisk at the ready, as Oscar’s unmistakable muffled laughter reaches your ears. Of course he’s going to be no help, sealed lips and all.

“Alright guys, very funny,” you say, aiming a withering look somewhere in their general direction though you can’t actually see them. “If I’m meant to be baking something edible out of this mess, you’re going to need to give me a bit more guidance.”

At that, Lando ambles back over, grasping your elbow to steer you somewhere — hopefully towards an actual baking ingredient and not, like, the rubbish bin. A few stumbling, giggle-filled steps later and you’re deposited in front of what sounds like … mixing bowls? Containers? You tentatively reach out a hand.

Your fingers brush over cool ceramic and you let out a relieved breath. Okay, progress. You dip the whisk in exploratorily and feel … something powdery. Flour? You raise it to your face to sniff, but Lando stops you just in time.

“Oi, oi, don’t go getting a lungful of whatever that is!” He laughs, somehow sounding even more handsome when he’s cheerfully chiding you. You bite your lip to stifle a grin.

Things begin to take shape after that, with Lando’s surprisingly not-too-horrible instruction and Oscar’s spirited gesticulating. You quickly work out the basics — butter, sugar, flour, eggs. The wet and dry ingredients get sloppily combined in separate bowls.

All fairly standard baking stuff.

Until, that is, Oscar tries miming out the need for baking soda and you obviously can’t see his dramatic gestures. You have no clue. He positions your hands with frantic motions as you measure out a hilarious amount of the mystery powder into your mixture.

Before long, a questionable batter has been produced. Oscar helps wrestle the cake pans away from you before you can completely muddle everything. The boys shuffle around for a bit, presumably prepping the pans and oven and such.

Then it’s time to pour in the batter. You feel Lando’s sturdy hands again, this time wrapping around yours to guide the bowl’s contents out. Immediately, the thick, lumpy globs start splattering over the sides and onto the counter. Oscar’s choked laughter fills the air. Lando curses under his breath, so close you can feel the rumble of his voice on your back.

Somehow, you all get the pans mostly filled without completely obliterating the kitchen. Oscar takes them to pop in the oven while Lando stays by your side. And that’s when you feel it — his free hand straying to rest on your hip. Reflexively, you lean back against his solid frame. The heat between your bodies builds deliciously.

For a long moment, it’s just the two of you standing there in peaceful suspension, chests rising and falling in tandem. Then Lando leans his head down, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“You’ve got a bit of … uh, whatever that yellow stuff was in the bowl … just there,” he murmurs, voice low and impossibly alluring.

You inhale shakily. “Yeah? Why don’t you get it for me then?”

There’s the barest hesitation before his lips are on your neck, tongue darting out to lick away the wayward batter. You sag back against him, surrendering to the electrifying sensation. A tiny moan escapes your lips.

God, you want this man.

Just then, the smoke alarm goes off with an ear-splitting shriek, shattering the spell. Lando leaps back like he’s been burned.

“Bollocks! I mean, uh … can’t hear anything, totally oblivious over here!” He makes a show of adjusting his headphones primly.

You snatch off the blindfold finally, blinking against the sudden light. Sure enough, thick grey smoke is billowing out of the oven. Oscar is doubled over wheezing, tears of laughter streaming down his face as he yanks the ruined cake out with oven-mitted hands. The charred remains plop lifelessly onto the counter.

Waving the smoke away, you gape at the pitiful offering. “Well, so much for our baking skills.”

Lando peeks over, coughing exaggeratedly. “What’s that? Did someone say they wanted a follow-along tutorial on how to burn down the motorhome?”

You roll your eyes, trying for a scandalized look but can’t quite fight the grin tugging at your lips. Oscar just loses it again at his teammate’s antics, wiping at his streaming eyes as Lando joins in, shoulders shaking with mirth.

Watching them, deliriously happy despite — or maybe because of — the ridiculous disaster around you, affection blooms in your chest as warm and gooey as the cake should’ve been. The fearless racers, top drivers of a top team, international celebrities … and also just two lovable goofballs who make your heart flip in the silliest of ways.

Their laughter is infectious. You find yourself dissolving into giggles right along with them. At last, Lando slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a loose side hug. His eyes crinkle at the corners as he grins down at you.

“Well, I don’t know about you two, but I could go for some proper dessert after that mess,” he says lightly. “My treat?”

Oscar immediately perks up, giving an enthusiastic double thumbs up and nodding vigorously.

You lean into Lando’s warmth, basking in the comfortable closeness. “You read my mind. Let’s get out of here before we burn something else down.”

With one last look at the charcoal brick that was once a cake, Oscar shakes his head ruefully. He strolls over and throws his arms around the two of you, squeezing tightly. For a moment, the three of you just stand there in a tangle of limbs and easy camaraderie, bodies shaking with residual laughter.

Pulling back at last, Oscar flashes you both a mischievous look as he points to his taped mouth, then mimes ripping it off. His silent way of asking if he can finally remove the duct tape obstacle.

“Oh, go on then, you’ve suffered enough,” Lando chuckles, waving a permissive hand.

Quick as a flash, Oscar yanks off the tape with a dramatic flourish, letting out a loud “FREEDOM!” He immediately grimaces, rubbing his jaw. “Oof, that stung a bit.”

“You’ll live, drama queen,” you tease, giving his arm a light shove.

He bumps you back with his hip, grinning impishly. “Well, it was all worth it to witness the two of you in absolute shambles from start to finish.”

Shouldering past you both, Oscar heads for the exit, shooting a roguish wink over his shoulder. “Now are we going to get some edible cake or what? I don’t know about you two, but I worked up an appetite with all the not talking I just did.”

Laughing again, you and Lando trail after him into the sunny paddock, bickering half-heartedly about who torched the baking attempt more thoroughly. A warm breeze riffles through the trees, carrying the scent of race fuel and possibility.

Another typical, wonderfully chaotic day at McLaren. You certainly wouldn’t have it any other way.

[rodmantrinitysoccer]

In A Split Second - F1 Grid/OP81

Summary: The drivers are all reminded just how something can happen in a split second all beyond their control.

Themes: Severely injured reader (no death), on track incident

Word count: 4.2k

Side: RB driver!reader x Oscar Piastri (as voted for by you guys 💕) - set in 2025

No part 2 requests please

"I don't think I've got much more going on." Y/n states as she stands in the RB garage talking to her race engineer Bruno.

"That's not what I hear." Bruno teases looking at her trainer, Cameron who smirks while she rolls her eyes at the two of them.

"You two are such gossips. I thought women were meant to be the worst of it." Y/n giggles before they nod for her to get ready to get in the car. "No more gossiping when I'm not here."

"Yes, boss." Bruno salute while Cameron moves over with her.

"How you feeling?"

"It's a practice, Cam. I'm feeling like it's going to be a pretty boring hour of set up changes, being asked how the car feels and not actually racing." Y/n smiles then putting her ear pieces in and pulls on her balaclava.

"Don't sound too excited. People might start to assume you're an optimist rather than a pessimist." Cameron teases as she pauses putting on her helmet to shoot him a look to behave. "Try to have some fun in there. You are meant to enjoy this job."

Y/n's smile is visible through her creasing eyes before she hugs him and speaks into his ear.

"I love my job. Don't ever try to act like I don't. I just...love when I'm qualifying or racing, not so much practicing." Y/n smiles before she moves around getting in the car and waiting as she gets strapped in and pulls on her gloves.

Practice might not be the most exciting part of the weekend, in fact by practice 3 most of the drivers are bored as hell. The Sprint weekends spice it up for most of them, as much as they do come with the risk of ruining the main race or main qualifying if something goes wrong. But at least there's 1 practice and then some fun.

"How's the car feeling?" Bruno asks as she finishes her first fast lap.

"Like it was made for me." Y/n replies then smiling a little as she sees Oscar pass by and give her an admittedly unsubtle wave.

Rumours about the two of them have gone around for weeks now but there's nothing pushing them to confirm or deny anything. But Oscar, despite his more reserved demeanour, quite enjoys teasing the public when he knows they can watch.

"And charge mode off." Bruno instructs as she starts the fast lap.

"Here is our young rookie pairing Yuki for 2025. Purple for sector 1 in the RB. Now, the team has been improving and their car is challenging that upper midfield for good positions and points consistently." Crofty comments over the broadcast over y/n working her way around the track. "I have to admire y/n, she's came into a team with a lot of people fighting for that seat and they gave it to her."

"Red Bull certainly made the right decision taking her on. Obviously there was plenty of talent for them to choose from. But I've been excited every time I see her get out on that track. A natural born talent, actually very reminiscent of seeing a young Max Verstappen when he first got in an F1 car." Martin states before they watch her shoot up to P3. "Only practice, but that's a good lap. Very well pieced together."

-

Saturday flew by in a rush and before y/n knows it she's standing with the other drivers waving at the crowds ahead of the race.

"Hey, you qualified behind Oscar right?" Max asks making her nod quite proudly as she feels Oscar holding her hand on the other side of the railing that divides the truck down the middle, his back to hers as he speaks to Alex and George.

"I start P6, he's P4. I've already told him it was a shoddy qualifying from him." Y/n teases feeling Oscar's hand tighten on her own, his silent way of letting her know he definitely heard that.

"It was a bit of a messy qualifying for everyone. That rain came out of nowhere." Lando states earning a hum before y/n shrugs.

"I handled it fine."

"You were the first one out on the track, just about the only one who improved more than a tenth." Max argues earning a cheeky grin.

Eventually the drivers parade is over and y/n walks off being caught by Oscar who smiles at her waiting till they're in the short space moving from the pit lane through to the paddock in a more communal tunnel where he kisses her.

"I'll see you later."

"Ok." Y/n nods as she walks away with Yuki, not missing how some of the other drivers tears Oscar for being so soft with y/n.

Y/n loves the build up for the race and before she knows it, both her and Yuki are cutting it close to the national anthem as they run down the pit lane and onto the carpets arriving only seconds before the national anthem begins.

"Cutting it close." Oscar states since, not for the first time recently, they've been stood next to each other.

"But we made it." Y/n smiles then niching him with her hip as she smiles then remains silent out of respect as they always do.

Getting more ballsy when the anthem is over, y/n steals a kiss from her boyfriend before jogging down the pit lane while Oscar gets a little red and flustered. Neither of them are so bothered about people knowing, it'd really just been a game when they realised people didn't clock onto the fact that they were together or were trying to say that they weren't.

Within 10 minutes y/n is climbing in her car with a mechanic strapping her in and putting her steering wheel in while she waits.

When the formation lap is finished, y/n can feel the adrenaline kick really setting in, her body a buzz with excitement. She lives for those lights going out and she loves racings.

When they do go out, she actually gets up to P5 jumping past Lewis' Ferrari with him trying an alternative strategy to the rest of the top 10 and taking a risk on hards while everyone else is on mediums.

Oscar takes over George in the first corner putting the Mercedes between himself and y/n as he jumps up to P3.

And they sort of settle into that for a while following the first lap.

Y/n does end up dropping back from George since while the RB is improving from it's low midfield position, it's not quite got the pace to keep up with the top teams in race.

Eventually Lewis' hard tyres hit their life and she finds herself battling with the new Ferrari driver.

"Hamilton has DRS."

"Gap."

"0.4."

Y/n wants to groan because she's a sitting duck and when he finally gets past her it's halfway down the straight.

That's when history almost seems to repeat itself as something flies out from Lewis' car and y/n quite literally can't possibly see it coming.

She's blinded and blacks out in a split second.

The crowd watch y/n continue straight picking up speed as she flies into the tyres barrier, deeply puncturing the rubber as the engine roars in protest of her still pressing on the throttle.

"Someone is off-it's y/n! Y/n is off. Something must've happened-Yeah, we'll get back to y/n once we know she's ok." Crofty states as the camera momentarily shows the wreck of her car plowed into the tyres while marshals try to reach her.

Something is clearly wrong if they won't show it on the broadcast.

"Safety car is out. We're just waiting to know that y/n is ok."

"Y/n off in turn 1." Tom states through Oscar's radio. "It's going to be a while. Possible red flag."

"Is she ok?"

"I'll let you know as soon as I know." Tom promises as the drivers pass by.

They get around a couple more times, the next time seeing the medical car and an ambulance, the car only slightly moved. It's hard to see, but the next time they come around y/n's limp body is being carried from wreck as carefully as possible.

"Red flag. Red flag. In on the next lap, there's a lot of damage to the tyre barrier."

"Is y/n ok?" Oscar repeats needing to know.

"I'll speak to you when you're in the pit lane."

Oscar isn't the only one questioning y/n's condition. The crash looked pretty bad but drivers have came out of worse unscathed. There's clearly something wrong.

Driver climb out of their cars, some going to the pit wall, some to their trainers, some in the garages. Oscar immediately noticed Bruno isn't in his seat as he passed the RB pit wall.

"What's happened?" Oscar asks looking at Tom while Lando moves over since he does car about y/n too.

"From what I could tell. Something fell off Lewis' car when he over took her on the pit straight, it looks like it hit her in the head. She went straight on, foot to the floor and...she had extra speed from a bit of a slip stream ending the straight from Lewis." Tom explains making Oscar step back.

"Are we resuming the race?" Lando asks making the man nod and the older McLaren driver moves to disappear with his trainer.

"Is she going to hospital?"

"To my knowledge she was unresponsive on radio. They'll get her in the helicopter." Tom confirms earning a nod before he frowns. "She'll be alright."

"I know." Oscar states before disappearing needing a moment to collect himself.

He doesn't freak out about anything. But this is definitely pushing him to the limit for it.

-

They did get back out on track and Oscar managed to do what every other driver did, just get back in the mind set.

They never played the replays, uncertain of y/n's condition but knowing she left the track in a bad condition. There was definitely reason not to play them.

After the race that's when the drivers are notified of what's they know so far.

"Y/n is still unconscious, they're running tests but it's hard to tell what will happen. It was a big hit, and it broke through her helmet." Zak states looking between his two drivers.

Lando doesn't say anything but look at Oscar who is stone faced and unmoving.

It's an hour later that Oscar is in the hospital waiting room, finding Bruno and Cameron there already. Cameron put together but Bruno looks red-eyed and like he's trying not to cry.

"Hey, mate." Cameron sighs standing up.

"What's happening? Is y/n ok?"

The two men exchange a look before Cameron sighs.

"Y/n's in surgery. She had an epidural bleed on her brain from the trauma...they have to relieve the pressure from the bleeding."

Oscar suddenly understands why Bruno seems so devastated.

He only sits down and just begins to wait with the men. Hours pass, but eventually the surgeon appears still in the scrubs before he pulls a chair over and sits with the men.

"Y/n's surgery went well, we're very happy with it and she is out. So long as she wakes up following the surgery. We feel there is a very good outcome that will come from this."

"What if she doesn't wake up that quickly?" Oscar asks, not missing the careful wording and the reaction from the surgeon gives away that it's not something he was eager to have to speak about.

"The chances are she will wake up. But...if y/n doesn't wake up that quickly. The odds are still in her favour for a good recovery. Just not quite to the extent that they are for if she wakes up sooner. Head trauma is difficult to properly treat when the person is asleep and...the less use we see of the brain the harder it is to help aid in recovery."

The three men are silent as the surgeon gives them time to let it all sink in.

"When would we be able to see her?" Bruno asks making the surgeon nod.

"She's being taken back to the ICU. Are any of you her next of kin?"

"No-fuck-fuck. Her family don't even know if she's ok. They have-I've got to call them." Cameron states knowing her family would've been patiently waiting for him for hours now.

Oscar swallows knowing of the three he will be the last to see her. Their relationship is new and both Bruno and Cameron have firm significant roles in her life.

-

Seeing y/n is uncomfortable, she's "not stable" enough to leave the ICU, machines helping her breath with tubes and wires all over her to monitor every part of her body to the best of their ability.

"Is it true that people can hear us?" He asks a nurse as she does her checks on the young woman.

"Sometimes. Other times they can't."

"Depends how much of her is really left in there?"

The nurse softens knowing some people try to prepare themselves for the worst by making that their only expectation. After all you can't be hurt by your expectations being surpassed.

Oscar remains silent after that. He knows really he should be getting ready to fly to the next race and at some point someone from the team will come get him reminding him of that.

-

The driver debrief on Thursday isn't one anyone wants to sit at.

"Y/n is still in critical condition and our thoughts and prayers are with her. She is a member of this family and we never want to see someone take injury the way she had." Stefano states addressing all the drivers and the team principals who have stood in wanting to hear about y/n.

Oscar left y/n with Cameron and with the knowledge her family had managed to all get flights over wanting to be with her.

She's in a coma.

Odds of survival and full recovery decreasing by the day. But there's a lot of brain activity and her body is healing well.

"This race is for y/n. We will celebrate her and give her something to see how much she is valued in this sport when she wakes up." A second person states someone that most of the drivers only recognise as someone from the welfare team that works within F1, presumably pairing up with the PR team to make a show of y/n's incident.

Oscar stands up leaving without a word, feeling it's better to cool off his anger. Maybe he's not mad about their want to race for y/n, he's mad because she should be here, she should get to watch it live and she shouldn't have to worry.

He ends up in his driver's room, FaceTiming Cameron in a need to see y/n and almost hoping that the trainer will inform him she's woken up and while it won't be an easy full recovery, that she'll be back.

"Hey mate. I was going to call you." Cameron states making Oscar's stomach drop with a voice muting lump in his throat.

Things have taken a turn. She's not waking up. Her brain activity is gone. She's gone.

He's lost her.

They've all lost her.

"They've moved her from the ICU, she's breathing on her own. She's stable. Not awake, but it's an improving. A promising improvement." Cameron explains making the assumptive thoughts clear from his head. "Oscar?"

"That's good. That's really good...make sure her family are watching the race this weekend. We're all doing it for her." Oscar states earning a small nod. "You take care over there."

"We will. And I'll keep you updated more."

"Thank you." Oscar nods before sighing when the call ends and he leans back.

She's going to pull through.

She'll be back in an F1 car. He knows she will.

-

After the race, Oscar returned to the hospital and actually so did a few of the drivers. Wanting to see their friend and really hoping to feel reassured of her.

"She looks...better." Oscar comments as Cameron smiles at him.

"She is. She's just...not waking up." Cameron sighs looking at the rest of the drivers who are listening. "She will and she'll decide that she has bragging rights when she finds out you all came to visit."

"What are doctors saying?" Alex asks making Cameron get into explaining it all. He's really become an expert on it all.

Oscar moves over, gently linking his hand to y/n's.

"What happens when she wakes up?" Lando asks earning a sigh from Cameron.

When is certain. He could've said if. But for his teammate and the rest of their sanity, he said when.

"It'll be a long and probably slow recovery. But we'll get her back in a car if they'll still have her."

"They will." Max states with a certainty that matches Lando's.

-

4 weeks of y/n improving but not showing any signs of waking up.

Oscar is visiting yet again, any spare day he has is spent visiting. He's beginning to forget what he did in his spare time before this. Cameron takes the time that Oscar is there to go home and properly rest.

Hospital rooms are no place for sleeping well unless you're the patient most of the time.

Oscar isn't a believer in wasting his voice on deaf ears. If he can't know for certain that she can hear him, then he'll save all his thoughts for when she wakes up.

Instead, he watches tv, he handles some of the business he can do from his phone, calls family and sleeps.

On this occasion he's lying his head on the side of the bed just scrolling aimlessly through social media.

But when the body next to him jumps a little, something that has happened on more than one occasion. "Only a reflex" according to the doctors, a good sign but not good enough.

This time it's not just a reflex.

Her voice fails her but the shifting and slight choking noises don't.

"Y/n?" Oscar panics hitting the help button. "It's ok. It's alright. You're ok."

Y/n doesn't remember a thing. The last thing she knows happened was she was in the car.

Panic is understandable.

Oscar is allowed to stay by her side as the doctor's calm her down and explain everything. It'll take a time. It won't be easy and she needs to understand that.

"It might take a couple takes for your voice to get back. But it will." The doctor assures her while she continues try and wipe at the fast flowing tears. "We will do everything in our power to see that you make a full recovery. Patience will be key to your recovery."

Y/n nods before sucking in a very broken breath.

"Are you in pain?" Oscar asks wanting to make sure these tears are just from what they appear to be from but she mouths a no.

"We've informed your family and friends of you waking up. They're all on their way, eager to see you."

-

Y/n was physically there seeing her family and friends, but it wasn't hard to see that she's hurting. Her body may be healing but emotionally this is her world crashing down on her.

Everyone else has had weeks to process things, but this is devastating to her.

She was in an upward trajectory with Helmut already discussing furthering her into a high and more rewarding seat within the Red Bull family.

Her voice came back after 4 days, and they did scans on her brain. That is thankfully healing better than they could've ever imagined.

The best money brought the experts to her. Wanting to bring in the best of the best to do everything to bring her back to racing health.

"It's useless." Y/n hiccups shaking her head. "It-It's so useless."

"It's not useless. You're just forgetting what you're fighting for." Oscar states then sitting down on the bed. "You've been in this room for too long even if it hasn't been long in your head. It has. You just need to remember what you're fighting to recover for."

"I don't want people to see me like this." Y/n frowns earning a small sigh.

"People want to see you and know you're alive." Oscar whispers making her deflate looking down. "I love you and so do a lot of other people."

Y/n's consciousness hadn't been caught by the media yet, a limited circle knows and understands that both y/n and those close to her want it to remain within that circle for now.

-

Oscar smiles adjusting the beanie on y/n's head, then sliding his hand down to kiss her face.

"You own this paddock. Everyone is wrapped around your little finger. Me included."

"I'll see you later." Y/n mumbles before parting to the car that's going to take her into the paddock. "I love you."

"I love you too." Oscar smiles waving to her before she climbs into the car with Cameron who is treating her like he's on active duty for the secret service.

Y/n's status is still unknown and the media has offered several people a lot of money wanting any type of update. But they've all been not so kindly told where they can stick the money.

"How are you feeling?" Cameron asks making her sigh.

"Like I should have less shame...they're going to see me. Why I think hiding it is worth the hassle is beyond me...but I'd rather not walk in to camera flashing and clicking at me straight away."

"That's your right. You don't owe these people anything."

When she arrives at the paddock, people do move to help her in without attracting the attention she'd get at the entrance.

"It does feel like home." Y/n smiles clinging to Cameron's arm before she spots Bruno and the moment the man sees her she can hardly blink twice before she's picked up and tossed around a little. "Christ, it's a good thing I'm not that fragile anymore."

"I'm sorry, y/n. I've just...needed to see you for too long now." Y/n smiles before he moves to kiss her cheeks.

"How are you feeling?"

"A little like this is a goodbye more than anything." Y/n admits earning a frown. "Everyone says I'll be back...but took long out of this sport won't see me back."

"Hey, none of that. You'll be back. We're going to make it happen."

Y/n ends up being spotted less than 15 minutes into her being there.

Other drivers, team members and just about anyone in the paddock rushes to speak to her and she's maybe a little overwhelmed by the fact so many people are proving to care so deeply for her.

Headlines fill with the news of not only her presence but the clear recover she's making. Albeit rudely noting that she was wearing a beaming to seemingly cover up the evidence of her injuries.

-

Rehabilitation is the most exhausting experience y/n has ever felt for herself.

Surgery to correct the craniotomy and repair her skull.

Y/n almost feels lucky that her accident happened early in the season because it means while she couldn't return to finish her rookie season.

She's back.

"What if it goes wrong?" Y/n whispers as she lies in bed with Oscar.

"You haven't got this far for it to go wrong, y/n." Oscar states as her lip trembles slightly then leaning forward and kissing her. "The rest of us believe in you. And you are too much of a perfectionist to let anyone down."

Y/n softens against him before smiling when she hears the alarms and Oscar reaches over to silence them.

"I'll be out there too." Oscar promises while y/n smiles kissing him before she pushes herself up.

The two rush to get ready and get to the Barcelona paddock for the Winter testing.

"Still think these sorts of things are going to be boring?" Bruno asks as she moves into the garage.

"No. I think I've got a new appreciation for any time on track." Y/n smiles before sighing. "But nice of you to humble me before I'm even in the car."

"Just have fun out there-but give us some worth while feedback."

"I live to please." Y/n hums proving that her personality is unchanged.

"Let us know if you need a break too. You're invaluable to everyone."

"I'll be alright. Just here to data gather and have fun. I'll let you know if I don't feel like I'm having fun." Y/n assures him before moving around.

Y/n breathes putting on all the layers then sighing as she climbs into the cockpit. She's actually grateful the memory of her accident was knocked permanently from her brain.

"I've missed this." Y/n whispers to herself before eventually being sent out on track.

It takes a moment to adjust, the first lap is like feeling her first ever adrenaline rush. Her body ablaze with energy and thrill.

"How's it feel?"

"Better than it's ever felt before."

[rodmantrinitysoccer]

Wanna be my part-time cat?

pairing: Max Verstappen x shifter!reader

summary: You can turn into a cat and spent a really nice day as one in Monaco. Until some maniac picked you up and took you home, that is.

part two

It wasn't your fault. No, really, it wasn't. You were minding your own business, wandering around the streets of Monaco as a cat, occasionally begging for pets, and enjoying the view from the side of the road, watching as luxury cars kept passing by. It was a good day. Relaxing.

But then this idiot appeared, for some reason assuming you were planning to jump in front of a car, and he didn't hesitate to pick you up. “You shouldn't be hanging out here, it's dangerous,” he cooed as he scratched your ear.

It was nice, all right, but being held without waiting for you to decide whether or not you wanted it was too much. You tried to twist your body to escape, but he only adjusted his grip to keep you there in his arms. You watched him with your ears pushed back, but he only smiled.

“You don't have a collar. Who would let such a beautiful ragdoll out without one? You must be a stray,” he added, clearly thinking about something that you had a feeling you wouldn’t like. “All right, you're coming with me. I'm sure you'll get along with my cats.”

He carried you to his car and gently put you on the passenger seat, and even as he drove, he kept glancing over at you with that stupid smile on his face. When he reached out to touch you, you hissed at him and backed away, hoping this would make him understand that you didn't want to be there.

He kept talking to you in a hushed tone to calm you down, as if you were a little kid, and it became a lot more effective when you didn't hear the engine of his car running in the background anymore. You became sleepy and couldn't hold back a yawn, but that only made him chuckle before grabbing you and taking you up to his home.

“You'll stay in my bedroom for a while, just until the others get used to having you around,” he explained over the meowing of his other cats. “It's okay, you'll get to know her, don't freak out,” he then told the other two.

All you could do was play along for now. It was Saturday afternoon, you only had to work on Monday, so hopefully you'd get the chance to sneak out before that. Once he put you on his bed, he sat down and waited for you to make the first move. You didn't want to do that, so you just kept staring at him, hoping he would get the message and leave you alone.

He didn't. Well, he did leave for a few minutes at the time, but he always returned before you could do anything about your situation. Late at night he put his handheld console aside and lay down in bed, patting the mattress next to him in an attempt to convince you to move over to him.

But you didn't move, you simply sat there in the armchair next to the bed and watched him with a judging look in your blue eyes. He looked over at you every now and then, but eventually he let out a long sigh and said, “Please, stop staring at me like that.”

For a short while you kept watching him, but then you let it go and curled up to sleep. Sometime in the middle of the night you jumped over to the bed and took a closer look at him. He was familiar, but you couldn't remember where you had met him. Either way, he smelled good. And he was warm. And there was a little empty space on the left side of the bed next to him that was the perfect size for you.

Though you felt the bed shift in the morning, you were too lazy to open your eyes. If he wanted to leave, he could, it was his place, and right now you were way too comfortable to care. But when you realized he had been away for a little too long compared to the day before, you decided to move closer to the door to eavesdrop.

No sounds were coming from outside. Maybe he left. Maybe this was your chance to get away. Knowing opening doors and dealing with locks would be a little difficult as a cat, you shifted back into your human form. Before you went anywhere, you decided to raid his walk-in closet and look for something to wear.

You weren't a big sports fan, but thanks to a friend who was a die-hard Red Bull Racing fan, you recognized their merch right away. Why did he have multiple t-shirts? You rolled your eyes, but still decided to steal one of those–at least you could hand it over to your friend–before moving on to find some shorts or sweatpants.

The biggest obstacle turned out to be waiting right outside the bedroom door; his other cats. When you opened it to leave the room, they immediately raced there and kept hissing at you, convincing you that maybe you shouldn't force leaving on your own. You didn't want to reveal your secret, but those damn idiots didn't give you another choice.

So you lay down on the bed and waited for the man of the house to return. Your sense of smell was weaker as a human, but you still recognized that familiar musky scent of his that was all over the pillow. It was surprisingly nice, you could've slept pretty well here if you were about to let that happen.

Another two hours passed before you finally heard the front door close, and you sat on the edge of the bed to wait for him. A very small, but very loud part of you couldn't wait to see him again. You tried to shut it up, you tried to remind yourself that he quite literally kidnapped you, but this little voice kept telling you that he thought you were just a normal cat.

“What the hell are you doing in my bedroom? And why are you in my clothes?” you heard his annoyed voice the moment he entered the room.

He wasn't freaked out, if anything, he was annoyed. Did it happen often? Did random women show up in his home every now and then? Rolling your eyes, you shrugged then pointed a finger at him.

“You were the one who locked me up here,” you told him.

The man took a threatening step forward, his phone already in his hand. “I most definitely didn't. And where's my cat?” he asked as he looked around to see if you were hiding somewhere.

With a sigh, you stood up and walked over to him. “Right in front of you. And by the way, I wasn't planning to jump in front of those cars, I was perfectly happy where I was. Oh, and I was staring at you from the armchair because I didn't trust you,” you informed him with a cheeky grin.

It took him a few seconds to comprehend your words. At first he didn't seem to believe you, but then he gulped and nodded. “Okay, let's say I believe you. How?” he asked with his hands on his hips.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“I won't tell you. I can't.”

Letting out a frustrated groan, he gently grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled you closer. “So you're telling me that I found a gorgeous cat that I can't keep?” You nodded, although this close proximity put some strange ideas in your head that you tried to push aside for now. “Too bad, I slept so well once you curled up next to me.”

You tilted your head to the side as you watched him. Was he flirting with you? Well, he sure wasn't wasting his time. “I don't even know who you are,” you informed him.

He looked genuinely surprised. “You don't?” You shook your head in response. “I'm Max. Three-time Formula 1 world champion, but who's counting,” he added with a laugh. Realization probably became visible on your face, because his smile grew even wider. “So you've heard about me.”

Nodding, you tried to look anywhere but into those stupid blue eyes. “My friend's a big fan.”

“Then keep the shirt. Not everyone has one of these. And it also looks good on you,” he added, making you clear your throat. It wasn't good, he knew perfectly well how to get under your skin. “But seriously, I want my cat back.”

“I have a life with responsibilities, I can't be a full-time cat,” you told him with a laugh.

“Then be my part-time cat. Do whatever you want during the day, then come here and be my cat for the night,” he suggested.

You looked at the door over his shoulder where you saw a glimpse of one of the cats. “Your other cats hate me. I couldn't even leave your bedroom,” you said with a pout.

Max turned back to look at the criminals in question. “It'll be fine,” he said when he turned back to you.

But you didn't look convinced, and your words confirmed that when you pushed his hands away and took a step back from him. “I should go. I'll get your clothes cleaned and return them as soon as I can,” you promised.

“No need. But think about my offer.” You nodded, then pointed at the door as you took a hesitant step towards it. “Right, the cats. Come with me, they'll leave you alone if I'm there.”

He took your hand on the way to the front door, and it was getting harder and harder to convince yourself it was bad. Because it wasn't. It was nice. And you couldn't deny that last night you slept pretty well next to him. It was comfortable. Being near him was comfortable.

Fuck.

You were actually beginning to consider his offer.

[rodmantrinitysoccer]

The Hard Launch

pairing: george russelll x reader

summary: what’s the point of dating a model if you can’t show her off?

a/n: i am so so sorry it took this long to fulfill the request. i’ve been working around 60 hours a week between two jobs so it hasn’t left much time for anything else :(

masterlist

—————————

You watched qualifying from the Paddock Club with your mom. Being the daughter of a supermodel, and a supermodel yourself, brought that perk, and a reason to visit your boyfriend at his job.

“Yes, Georgie! He did it!” You gasp, grasping your mom’s arm in excitement.

“Should we go visit Mercedes then?” She asks with happy smile. You have had a few failed high profile relationships before, and your mom can tell how seriously you are taking this one. It’s different, George is everything to you, and he knows the bad PR you get for being a nepo baby already, so he suggested you keep the relationship to yourself for a while.

“Y/n! Over here,” some photographer yells as you walk with your mom. You ignore the calls for you to look at cameras as you make your way into the paddock. You waited for the mandatory media to be over, talking with other celebrity guests.

As soon as you step into the Mercedes motorhome, you are enveloped in a pair of arms, holding you close. You are happy your mom chose to explore the paddock, leaving you a bit of privacy.

“Hi Georgie,” your grin is hidden in his shoulder as you hug him tightly. “I’m so proud of you, you drove so well.”

“Be ready for me to pick you up at 7, we are going to dinner,” George says and you pull back a bit in shock, the wide smile still on your face.

“Are you serious? Of course, anything for my pole sitter,” you are elated at the idea of going on a public date with him.

“It’s about time I show off my fabulous girl. I have to go into a team meeting, but be ready, okay?” George cups you face, leaning in for a quick kiss.

“I can’t wait. Have fun in your meeting,” you lean in for another kiss before leaving the motorhome. You eventually find your mom talking to Geri outside of Red Bull.

“Did you have fun?” She gives you an amused look as you approach.

“We are going for dinner tonight to celebrate,” you look a little lovestruck, utterly enamored by George.

“That’s a big step, congratulations,” Geri says, knowing what a simple dinner means for high profile relationships.

“Thank you,” your grin has barely left your face since George got pole.

The time feels like it is dragging as you pick out the perfect outfit, and touch up your hair and makeup. The waiting is the worst, you are so excited, like it’s a first date. In a way, it is a first date.

You rush down the stairs of your London home as the doorbell rings, opening the door to George holding flowers.

“You look gorgeous,” he smiles, leaning in to kiss your cheek as you take the flowers.

“You clean up quite well too,” George follows you inside as you search for a vase to put them in.

Soon enough, George is handing his keys to a valet and offering his hand to you as you step out of his car.

“This feels nice,” you squeeze his hand, looking up at him with a smile.

“It’s nice to be able to properly show you off. Let everyone know how much I love you,” he leans down and presses a quick kiss to your lips.

“You are making a strong case for more celebrations after dinner,” you hum, walking with him to your table. Against the window, softly lit by candles and the low restaurant lighting, it’s the perfect romantic setting.

“Don’t tempt me to rush this,” George blushes a little. Both of you ignore the people on the other side of the window, surely taking pictures to sell to tabloids and gossip news.

A few minutes later, George’s phone starts buzzing with text messages. He choses to ignore it, but his inbox is blowing up.

“Check it, it’s not going to ruin the date,” you reassure him as he turns over the phone.

“Someone leaked photos of us, the guys are asking if it’s true we are dating,” George says with a small smile, amused at the reactions.

“Go ahead, tell them how long you’ve been in love with me,” you laugh as he shows you some of the texts, most from Alex.

“One year with the prettiest girl,” he looks at you lovingly, still making your heart flutter.

“A smooth talker and pole sitter? How did I get so lucky,” you reach across the table to hold his hand.

“I don’t know. Right place, right time, I guess,” George teases before pulling out his phone and snapping a picture of you.

“What was that for?” you ask curiously, noting the smile tugging at his lips.

“Just making sure everyone knows how much I love you,” he says before putting his phone back into his pocket.

instagram stories

caption-

georgerussell63: p1 for one year with the most beautiful girl in the world ❤️ @y/username

[rodmantrinitysoccer]

Don't Blame Me - Max Verstappen

Summary: Max's girlfriend loves him. It's not crazy to love your boyfriend...right?

This is inspired by Don't Blame Me by Taylor Swift

Sidenotes: Protective!reader - sort of short'n'sweet

No part 2 requests please

Y/n looks at Max holding his hand tightly as they walk up into his jet, always wanting to be in Max's touch and to have him in her touch.

Recently things took a turn between Max and y/n, not necessarily in a bad way but she replied to some people deciding to cast judgement on Max and she just got...protective.

Max had always told her to ignore anything that she might see said about him, especially online but for some reason the hate just made her feel a rage on his behalf.

Sure she could've handled it better. But who has the right to make those sorts of comments? She has the right to defend her boyfriend more than they have the right to make any comment about him.

"Stop pouting. I don't like when you're upset because of me." Max sighs not actually bothered about the fact that y/n spoke up. In fact he felt a different type of love when she explained her feelings on the matter and how it hurt her to see anyone talk about him like that.

It doesn't bother him. Criticism is all part of the job and he's dished out his share in retaliation to comments relayed to him. But he really saw and heard the emotion of just how much she cares about him.

"You could give me my phone back." Y/n states making the Dutchman look at her with a sigh.

"You gave my your phone, it's not like I took it." Max laughs since y/n did get told off from the Red Bull team, only mildly since Max wouldn't allow them to say anything that was crossing a line by his standard. "You can have it back."

"No....No. I think staying away from it is better. I just...hate that now I know the extent of what people are saying, it just-"

"Don't work yourself up, baby." Max cuts in earning a huff as they sit down in his jet and he pulls her legs over his lap. "I do love you for being maybe a little crazy in what you said to people."

"Everything I said was out of love. Everything they say is out of jealousy and hate...someone needs to teach those poor souls about projection." Y/n mumbles earning a small smile.

"Yeah, you told them that...and I think you really tried teaching them." Max hums twirling some of her hair around his finger. "Just worry about us. That's all I'm worried about."

Y/n softens a little leaning forward to kiss him before she leans back looking out at her boyfriend with a lot of admiration. Because in her opinion, he'd have every right to be a dick towards everyone.

"Look, I packed you...something to keep you busy that isn't your phone." Max states, standing up to grab a bag he'd brought and pulling out a selection of her unread books that have started to fill his apartment. "And these have been collecting dust."

"Nice way of telling me to shut up and be quiet."

"I try to be nice and tame you from the crazier moments."

-

No surprise to Max, y/n was somewhat ban from being around much for the race weekend. The PR team wanting to recover from the nightmare she caused them.

So she ended up staying in the hotel room after a painfully awkward Thursday. During Friday, Max of course made it clear that he did not appreciate her being harshly looked at. On Saturday, he really missed having her around, especially after Friday night saw her latch onto him. As pathetic as it might sound, they hadn't spent that long apart from each other in a long time.

"Y/n?" Max frowns entering the suite and finding her missing but there's packaging and wrappers littering the floor. "Y/n?"

He moves around the room trying to figure out what the hell has happened and what all of this is from.

And on top of that, her phone is still in his luggage so he can't get hold of her.

If only he'd air tagged her.

Thankfully it's only a few minutes before the hotel door opens and his girlfriend appears looking slightly disheveled.

"What on earth have you been doing?" Max questions making her sigh placing the last couple baskets down. "What are those?"

"Spare apology baskets...I feel awful and Red Bull is like your family. I don't want them to hate me." Y/n states proving that she feels like she really did cause serious upset. "I managed to figure out where they're all staying and leave the baskets there but there was too many so I figured I might give them to fans or I don't know...anyone."

"All this just to come back to the race?"

"I love you and I love being there for you and watching you be amazing. And maybe I'm acting insane over something silly. But I want to be with you and there for you." Y/n sighs earning a small smile as Max moves to hug her gently.

"You are maybe a little crazy, but knowing how far you're willing to go to make things better. I think the team will be quite touched. But the mechanics might want their pick of what's left of the baskets." Max smiles leaning down to kiss her softly. "I love you too and it really hasn't been fun going to the paddock without you there."

"I could get some things for the mechanics rather than giving them left overs." Y/n mumbles clearly overthinking Max's joke.

"Don't worry about it. They won't really care." Max smiles before lifting her up so her legs wrap up around his waist.

"It's normal for love to make someone act like this, right?"

"Ehh...I would act much worse for you." Max shrugs making her soften a little. "I can promise you. I'd act much more insane in your position."

"You promise?" Y/n grins earning a nod.

"I'd make the world burn for you, baby."

"It sounds like maybe we're both a little crazy."

"You more than me. But yes." Max laughs watching her grin. "You're just protective, there's no crime in it and you're not really crazy for it. You just don't like people speaking in ways they shouldn't...and you correct them maybe quite aggressively."

Protective suits y/n well and she knows that really Max has his fair share of speaking up and being protective too. No doubt if he catches wind of people speaking badly about y/n then he'd more than happy to put them in their place too.

"Show me what gifts you got for everyone then. I know you're itching to." Max smiles knowing there's nothing y/n likes more than a show and tell of whatever she's spent money on.

"Really? You want to listen."

"Always."

[rodmantrinitysoccer]

by proof_cafe

[rodmantrinitysoccer]