#Free Motorhome Stops

[fastandcarlos]

Never An Interruption : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: you’re all ready to celebrate max’s win with him, only when you find someone already there to celebrate, you begin to question the role you truly play in max’s life

Your smile was wide as you watched Max climb up to the top of the podium again, thousands of fans cheering all around you. It still felt surreal as you watched him climb to the top, proudly taking the trophy that was handed to him. 

His eyes scanned the crowd in front of him, giggling to himself once Max’s eyes met yours, noticing the excitable look that was on your face. You were stood just beside Christian, right at the front, exactly where Max always asked for you to be whenever you were there supporting him at a race so that you got to see everything. 

Once the celebrations were over, Max was rushed off to do interviews and gush about his win whilst you returned to the paddock, knowing you’d be able to catch up with Max later. 

It was as chaotic as ever as you watched the engineers begin to sort everything out, packing up ready to head to the next race. You usually didn’t mind waiting around, but today particularly you were on the edge of your seat with excitement about being able to see Max again. 

The race had been a lot closer than usual, leaving you on tenterhooks. Max had fought much more closely with Charles, swapping the lead between the pair until Max just edged him on the last straight. You were proud at the best of times, but today especially, you were thrilled that he managed to get the win. 

After checking your watch to see how late it was again, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You excused yourself from the paddock, heading down to the team’s motorhome, walking straight through to where Max’s driver’s room was, darting between the crowd of hospitality guests. 

It had almost become a bit of a second home for you too, having spent years travelling around the world to support your best friend. You knew the paddock like the back of your hand, and most of the people that were walking around in blue too. 

And despite the fact he had hundreds of people working around the paddock for him, the only person that really meant the most to Max was you. His best friend. 

As you approached the door, you weren’t surprised to hear some noise from inside. You listened for a moment before knocking gently, walking in before Max answered, exactly like he’d told you to do years ago when you first started visiting him.  

You barely managed to step foot into the room before it felt like you were being ushered back out. A nervous looking Max looked at you, hair messy as he ran his hand through it. 

“You alright?” Max smiled, unable to stand still. 

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, trying your best to figure out what was going on as Max’s nervous eyes stuck on you. 

“I was just about to come and find you.” 

“It’s lucky I came and found you then,” you laughed, turning to take a seat on his bed, only to stop yourself just as fast. A figure stared back at you, one that you didn’t recognise but left you feeling incredibly embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t realise that you...yeah...I’ll just...go,” you stuttered, rushing back out of the room. 

Your body jolted as you were met by the crowd of guests yet again, rushing out before any of them caught sight of you. Your feet couldn’t move quick enough, heading back out into the fresh air and in any direction that took you as far away from Red Bull as possible.  

Once you were sat down, your head fell into your hands, letting go of several shaky breaths. Whilst you and Max were the best of friends, your heart wasn’t prepared to see someone else there with him. You knew you shouldn’t be mad, upset, hurt, he was free to do whatever, but for some reason, it still stung. 

It didn’t take long before a figure appeared beside you, almost as soon as you left the room, Max ran out to follow, sprinting all around the paddock in search of you. 

You remained frozen as Max dropped down to sit beside you, letting go of a deep sigh at how hostile you were towards him.  

“Please don’t shut me out,” Max frowned, noticing how tense your body was. 

“Haven’t you got somewhere else to be?” You coldly asked. 

“Not when I know your upset, of course I haven’t,” Max reasoned, nudging gently against your side, silently asking for you to look at him again. 

“If I knew you had company then I never would have burst in like that,” you tried your best to explain, feeling your cheeks begin to darken again, “I’ll stop doing that now.” 

“I love having you burst in,” Max tried his best to assure you, “you’re my best friend and never an interruption.” 

“I know,” you murmured, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice as Max reminded you. 

“What is it?” Max quizzed, knowing you too well, knowing exactly when you were hiding something from him. 

“Nothing...you just go back and be with your girlfriend, you should be celebrating,” you tried to tell him. 

“No way,” he stated, shrugging as your eyes pleaded with him. 

Max’s bluntness took you by surprise, your body almost jumped at how firm he was with his response to you. 

He sensed that too, muttering a quick apology as he realised how taken aback you suddenly were by him. 

“You can’t leave your girlfriend all by herself,” you repeated, reminding Max as to where his priorities should be. Not with you anymore. But with her. 

A small smile crept onto his face, “is that what you think that was?” 

Your shoulders shrugged, truthfully you couldn’t make sense of anything right now. You were sure that if Max had a girlfriend, then he would’ve told you, but maybe he didn’t trust in you quite as much as you thought he did. 

“She works for Red Bull, just came in to help me with something,” Max tried his best to explain with you, “there’s no one more important to me than you are, you know that’s never going to change.” 

Your eyes met Max’s, quickly noticing how sincere he was. His smile widened as he noticed the reality of what he was saying sinking in, reminding you just where his priorities were. 

“I thought you were with her,” you admitted. 

Max nodded back at you, “there’s only one person that I want to be with, and that’s the person I’m with right now.” 

Your heart raced as you listened, watching as Max’s smile grew wider, proud of himself for finally telling you the truth. 

“You mean that?” You nervously asked him. 

Max reached across and rested his hand over the top of yours, “I can’t believe you ever thought I would want to be someone more than I do you. You’re perfect.” 

You turned your hand so that it was palm to palm with Max, allowing your fingers to intertwine in with his. Max’s free arm held around your waist, keeping you as close into his side as he could have you. 

A nervous smile appeared on your face, resting your head on Max’s shoulder so that he could no longer see you. 

“Please don’t tell me these things just because you want to cheer me up,” you asked of him, wondering if what was happening really was true. 

“I mean every single word,” Max assured, “it only ever really has been you.” 

Max moved his hand so that it was under your chin, tilting your head back so your eyes met again. “Where do we go from here?” You whispered, feeling yourself losing control at an alarming rate. 

“I’m not sure,” Max whispered, “but I know that wherever we go from here, it’s going to make me an incredibly happy man.” 

Before you had the chance to respond, Max leant down, pressing the gentlest of kisses against your lips, finally getting to live out the dream that had troubled him for so many years. 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[pucksandpower]

Crazy Cravings

Max Verstappen x wife!Reader

Summary: pregnancy cravings can make you (and your husband) do crazy things … neither of you particularly minds

Warnings: 18+ content and pregnancy

You sit in the Red Bull Racing garage, feeling the warm Spanish sun on your face through the open door. The roar of engines and whirring of power tools surrounds you as the mechanics prepare for the race.

Your eyes are drawn to the iconic blue and silver cans scattered around the garage. Those tantalizing cans of Red Bull that everyone else seems to be drinking so casually.

Everyone except you and Max, that is.

You rub your rounded belly, feeling your precious cargo kick and squirm inside you. At six months pregnant, your cravings have been … intense, to say the least. But none more powerful than your longing for the crisp, fizzy taste of Red Bull.

The caffeine is off limits, of course. You would never dream of jeopardizing your baby’s health. But oh, how you crave that sweet, energizing flavor that used to be such a routine part of your life.

Max emerges from the back room, his bright grey eyes instantly finding you. He strides over, that effortless confidence and raw athleticism making your heart flutter, even after all these years. His gaze drifts to the Red Bull can in a mechanic’s hand and a grimace crosses his face.

“Liefje, are you alright?” He murmurs, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “I know how much those are torturing you lately.”

You force a smile, not wanting him to worry. “I’m fine, Maxie. Just … ignoring the siren call of carbonated temptation.”

His thumb strokes your cheek as he studies you, clearly not convinced. Max has been so incredibly supportive during this pregnancy, abstaining from Red Bull himself in solidarity. Cutting out his biggest vice, just so you don’t have to be tormented by the sight and scent of it everywhere.

“We should get you out of here,” he says, looping an arm around your waist to help leverage your bulk out of the chair. “The smells can’t be helping those crazy cravings.”

You open your mouth to protest, not wanting to pull him away from his work, but a fresh wave of dizzying desire hits you as a mechanic cracks open another can. The fizzing hiss and unmistakable scent make your mouth water uncontrollably.

“Max ...” you whisper, feeling your throat tighten with barely restrained craving and hormonal tears prickling your eyes.

He follows your yearning gaze to the Red Bull can and understanding dawns. “Oh, liefje ...” Scooping you into his arms, he strides from the garage, shooting an apologetic look at his crew.

Once outside in the fresh air, you bury your face against Max’s shoulder, inhaling his familiar, comforting cologne as he carries you to the motorhome. He eases you onto the couch, brushing kisses along your forehead and temple.

“I’m so sorry, schatje,” he murmurs, anguish lining his handsome features. “I hate seeing you suffer like this. If there was any way I could make the cravings stop ...”

You catch his hand, lacing your fingers through his calloused ones. “Max, you know I would never actually ask you to give up Red Bull, right?”

He shakes his head fiercely. “Not being able to have it for nine months is nothing compared to your sacrifice, carrying our baby. I don’t deserve you.”

Pulling him down beside you, you cup the chiseled line of his jaw, making him meet your gaze. “I happen to think you deserve the very best, Mr. Verstappen. And right now, the very best for both of us would be ...” Your voice cracks with fresh longing. “A damn Red Bull.”

Max’s eyes blaze with sudden determination, that iron willpower that has made him a champion coming to life. “Then that’s what I’ll get you. If those tossers at Red Bull Company won’t make a safe, caffeine-free version for pregnant women, I’ll personally make them regret it.”

You laugh shakily. “Max, you can’t just bully a corporation into creating a new product line for one person’s weird craving!”

“You’re not just one person,” he growls, tangling his fingers in your hair and bringing his forehead to rest against yours. “You’re my everything. And our baby deserves for its mother to be happy and have her cravings satisfied.”

Pressing a fierce kiss to your lips, he adds, “I’m calling them right now. And then straight to the CEO, if I have to. I’ll get you that Red Bull if it’s the last thing I do.”

True to his word, the indomitable Max Verstappen spends the next several days working every possible connection and calling in every favor. You catch bits of conversations, his clipped tones making it clear just how serious he is about this bizarre quest.

“No, I don’t care if it’s not ‘cost-effective’. This is for my very pregnant wife ...”

“She’s risking her health to grow an entire person! The least your company can do is make a freaking caffeine-free energy drink ...”

The crew quickly learns not to open any Red Bull around you, lest they face the wrath of an overprotective Max. Which is slightly embarrassing … but also incredibly sweet.

Your hormones most definitely approve.

Finally, there’s a break in the stalemate. Helmut Marko himself shows up at the motor home, those bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrows furrowed.

“Max, this is ridiculous. They will not reconfigure an entire product line just because Y/N is having a little … craving.”

You brace yourself for the explosion, but Max just levels Helmut with that intense stare. “If you could experience these cravings yourself, you would be singing a different tune. Y/N is sacrificing everything to have our baby. The least Red Bull can do is give her a safe option to have the flavor she misses so much.”

Helmut’s expression softens slightly at the obvious devotion in Max’s voice. “You know that corporate will never go for it. Not for just one person ...”

“Then make it for all the other pregnant women dealing with the same issues,” Max returns, unruffled. “Or is a company that plasters ‘Gives You Wings’ on every can really too cowardly to follow through on empowering people?”

You suck in a shocked breath at his daring play. But the flicker of anger and resigned capitulation in Helmut’s eyes shows that it worked.

“Fine, you little shit,” the older man growls. “I’ll talk to product development. But I’m not making any promises!”

Except somehow … Max’s sheer bullheaded tenacity eventually batters through all the corporate resistance and red tape. Three weeks later, an unmistakable bright blue can appears on the counter, the iconic Red Bull logo stamped across it.

“What’s this?” You ask in confusion.

Max slides an arm around your waist, beaming proudly. “Open it and see.”

You crack the seal, sniffing cautiously … and almost melt at the nostalgic, beloved scent of Red Bull. But just as you start to panic about caffeine, you notice the slightly different flavor.

“Max, is this ...”

He nods, grinning. “Zero caffeine but all the taste you’ve been craving. No more tears over those damn energy drink cans, okay?”

Throwing your arms around him, you yank his head down to capture his mouth in a grateful kiss. “Have I mentioned lately how incredible you are?”

“Once or twice,” he jokes, then sobers, cupping your belly. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make you and our baby happy.”

“You’re giving me everything I ever wanted and more.” You take a long pull of the perfectly flavored liquid, sighing in blissful satisfaction. “We hit the jackpot with you, Max Verstappen.”

He kisses you again, reveling in your obvious enjoyment. “The only jackpot I need is right here.”

***

Your baby bump has popped out to truly impressive proportions now at eight months along. What started as an innocent craving for Red Bull has escalated into an all-out physiological war.

Nothing seems to satisfy you for long — you’re a walking bundle of hormones and insatiable desires.

From the plush solitude of the Red Bull hospitality suite, you try not to gaze wistfully toward the Ferrari encampment. But you can’t resist fixating on the tantalizing cones of rich gelato constantly streaming from their hospitality tent.

Watching a couple of Ferrari mechanics stroll by, licking at scoops of pistachio and stracciatella, is enough to kickstart a powerful new yearning. Your mouth waters shamelessly as they pass, the creamy dessert leaving you weak in the knees. Before you can overthink it, you’re shuffling toward the entrance, one hand cradling your belly.

“Scusi,” you call out hesitantly as you peek inside. “Mi dispiace … is it possible to get some gelato?”

You half expect to be waved away — it’s well known that the Ferrari team is notoriously insular and protective of their spoils. But the cheerful greeting you receive is instantaneous and overwhelming.

“Madonna mia! Look at this beautiful piccina!”

Suddenly you’re engulfed by a whirlwind of chattering Italian voices, greeted by smiling faces from the team of elderly signoras who comprise the Ferrari hospitality staff. Weathered hands pat your belly and cheeks, clucking sympathetically at your swollen state.

“You poor bambina, absolutely enorme! Of course we’ll get you some gelato to refresh you. And biscotti too! You need to keep up your energy, si?”

You’re ushered toward a plush sofa, various grandmotherly types fussing over you like you’re the most delicate, precious thing. It’s … surprisingly wonderful. They clearly adore babies and pregnant women. You get the sense that indulging a mother-to-be is hardwired into their very beings.

A tray of gelato cups appears, the rainbow of flavors almost dazzling in their variety — chocolate, pistachio, prickly pear, lemon, stracciatella. Before you can reach for one, it’s plucked from your grasp.

“No no no! Leave it to Nonna Maria.” A stout signora with a green paisley dress and frosted silver curls shakes her head sternly. “I’ll start you with the lemon to whet your appetite. Then a nice creamy stracciatella as a proper treat for the bambino.”

The tangy flavor of the lemon gelato hits your craving exquisitely. As soon as you’ve polished off that cup, Nonna Maria presents another brimming with the creamy chocolate chip perfection of stracciatella. You moan in appreciation, unbothered by the chorus of approving noises from your doting new entourage.

Before you know it, you’ve been plied with cups of hazelnut, strawberry, and caramel flavors as well. These hospitable Italian ladies simply won’t be deterred from pampering a future mamma. As you scrape the last smears of gelato from a ramekin, a new grandmother settles on the sofa beside you.

“Now ... tell Nonna Gina what this little maschietto or bambina has been craving, eh?” She pats your belly affectionately. “We have chefs who can whip up anything your heart desires!”

Is it a pregnancy thing, this sudden wave of tears that blurs your vision? Or just being so insanely touched by the kindness and maternal care of these lovely strangers? You blink rapidly, swallowing hard.

“Honestly … gelato has been my biggest craving these past couple days. I don’t know if I can eat another bite.”

A chorus of disapproving gasps and tuts rises from the assembled grandmothers. “Bah! This pregnancy has ruined your appetite, piccina,” one crows, waving a hand dismissively. “We’ll soon get it back to rights, don’t you worry.”

For the next hour, you’re lavished with attention, fussed over and coddled like the most precious jewel. Cold drinks and chilled towels appear to keep you comfortable as the nonnas take turns sitting with you, petting your belly and swapping outrageous birth stories.

Their colorful Italian voices swell and ebb as they bicker over whose recipe for pasta al ragu is most authentic, who has the most grandchildren, and whose first-born grandson is most handsome.

It’s chaos and noise and overwhelming affection … and you’ve never felt so utterly content.

As the afternoon light slants golden through the awning, a familiar figure appears in the entrance, haloed by the fiery rays.

“Liefje? I’ve been looking everywhere ...” Max’s disbelieving gaze sweeps over the scene in front of him — you, surrounded by a veritable coven of grandmotherly Italians who seem entirely absorbed with you. “What in the world ...”

A chubby signora with a bright orange shawl wrapped around her ample form hops up, beaming widely. “Ahh! We have been absolutely spoiling your beautiful wife, of course. Did you know she had a craving for gelato? Well, no problem for us — we have taken her like one of our own bambinas!”

The others cluck and murmur in outraged agreement at his shocked expression.

“We absolutely will not let a piccina in such a state go hungry or uncomfortable! Now you sit down so we can get you a plate of some proper food too!”

Max gapes at you, utterly nonplussed as you grin back at him with unabashed glee, utterly stuffed with Italian desserts and reveling in the indulgent babying. You pat the space beside you invitingly.

“You’ve got to try Nonna Gina’s tiramisu, Maxie. It’ll knock your socks off.”

He settles beside you, slinging an arm around your shoulders and still looking rather dazed. But the instant the first warm smile and pat lands on his arm or knee, Max’s expression melts. This team of fussing Italian grandmothers has clearly adopted you both as their own.

Nonna Maria reappears, shoving a plate stacked with crispy arancini, indulgent risotto alla Milanese, and a creamy slice of tiramisu into your husband’s hands. “Eat up! You need to keep your strength up too, caring for this sweet cosa bella.” She plants bristly kisses on both your cheeks before scurrying off again.

Max watches her go, then turns to you with a bemused chuckle, squeezing you close. “Well, schatje. I have to hand it to you — at least your pregnancy cravings bring you to some … interesting places.”

You hum in agreement, perfectly content as you snuggle against his side. “Can you really think of a better place for me to nest?” You grin as another nonna appears to pat his cheek, welcoming him into the chaotic fold. “I think I may have just found my second family.”

He tilts your chin up, eyes sparkling with warmth. “Anything that makes you happy and keeps our baby healthy.”

As he kisses you tenderly, surrounded by clucking encouragement and rapturous croons of “bello, bellisimo” from your new Italian grandmothers, you know you’ve never felt so blissfully cherished.

You and Max make your way slowly back to the Red Bull motorhome, stuffed to the gills with gelato and trailed by a gaggle of besotted well-wishers calling out farewells and advice.

“I still can’t believe you managed to befriend the entirety of Ferrari hospitality,” Max laughs, helping ease you onto the couch in his driver’s room. He nudges your belly playfully. “This little one is shaping up to be quite the international charmer!”

“Says the man who single-handedly compelled Red Bull to create an entirely new product line,” you point out, patting your swollen middle contentedly. “I have a feeling this baby is going to be the most spoiled child on earth.”

Max settled beside you, gathering you close with a tender smile. “Can you blame all our people for wanting to give the world to you two?” His thumb traced your jawline reverently. “You’re carrying a little miracle, liefje.”

Your breath catches, as it so often did when he looks at you like that. Like you’re his entire universe. With so much pure adoration and love shining in those grey eyes.

“Our miracle,” you correct softly, cradling his calloused hand over your belly. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Not just supporting me … but giving me everything I could ever dream of.”

He opens his mouth like he wanted to protest, but you press on, needing him to understand how treasured he makes you feel.

“You don’t stop until I’m happy. Even when I get these raging, random cravings that probably seem crazy, you move heaven and earth to give me whatever I need. Most people would never ...”

“Neither of us is most people,” Max interrupts fiercely. He presses a searing kiss to your lips, then the swell of your abdomen. “You and our little one are my entire world. I’ll spend every day showing you how much I love you both, how grateful I am to have you in my life.”

Hormones raging, you pull his mouth back to yours, savoring the taste and feel of him surrounding you. When you finally part, you rest your forehead against his.

“In that case, you better rest up for tonight,” you tease. “I have a feeling that someone’s going to get a craving for sardines and waffles right around midnight.”

***

At nine months pregnant, you feel like a blissfully beached whale.

Your belly protrudes so massively that you can barely see your feet anymore. Simple tasks like tying your shoes or rolling over in bed have become awkward geometric obstacles. Max has to help you up from every chair or couch, his strong arms levering your frame into a vertical position.

Lingering in the paddock is no longer an option either. You’ve been gently but firmly ordered back home to Monaco to prepare for the baby’s arrival.

Thank goodness your nesting instincts are going full tilt — otherwise you might go stir crazy waiting for this little one to make their grand debut. You’ve rearranged and re-organized the nursery a dozen times, washed and rewashed all the tiny onesies and miniature accessories, and baked enough lactation cookies to feed an army of nursing mothers.

Really, there’s only one craving occupying your mind now …

The thump of shoes in the hall makes you look up eagerly. Max appears in the doorway of the sunlit nursery, loose waves of brown hair framing his face. The plain white tee stretches enticingly across his chest and shoulders, making your mouth water for an entirely different reason than food.

“Hey schatje,” he greets, eyes crinkling at the corners as he takes in your flushed cheeks. A knowing smirk tugs at one side of his mouth. “Were you just ... thinking about me?”

You shake your head adamantly, wincing as the motion makes your whole body ache in protest. “Maybe just a little. This particular craving is getting out of control.”

Crossing to you in two strides, Max cups your jaw and brings your lips crashing together in a searing kiss. His tongue sweeps demanding and possessive into your mouth, making you whimper faintly. That intoxicating masculine scent of fresh sweat, motor oil, and sandalwood surrounds you in an alluring cloud.

After all these years, just the taste and smell of your husband is enough to drench you in molten wanting. Baby or no baby, Max Verstappen is still the sexiest goddamn thing on two legs.

“Mmm, I know exactly what you need,” he rumbles against your neck, nipping a tingling path along your sensitive skin. “Luckily for you, I’ve got a free schedule all afternoon to help take care of this craving ...”

He scoops you into his arms effortlessly, cradling your heavy weight against his chest to carry you to the bedroom. You twine your arms shamelessly around his neck, luxuriating in the hard strength of his body against yours.

“Aren’t you worried about ... squashing the baby?”

“Not at all,” he deposits you carefully on the bed. Those bright grey eyes darken with blazing lust. “I’m going to take such good care of you and our little one.”

His hands and mouth seem to be everywhere at once — caressing, nibbling, and stroking every sensitive inch he can lavish adoring attention on. You keen softly when he dips his tongue into your navel, rubbing reverent circles over the tight swell of your belly.

“You’re so gorgeous like this,” Max murmurs, lips brushing the crease where your torso and bump meet. “So ripe and round and radiant with our child. My beautiful, strong girl ...”

All you can do is lie there gasping, overwhelmed in the best possible way. He strips you methodically, leaving a trail of scorching, openmouthed kisses over every newly exposed inch.

“My sexy little pregnant wife,” he husks, tongue dragging up the slick crease at the apex of your thighs. “Can’t resist this craving can you, liefje?”

His fingers plunge inside you, curling expertly as his mouth closes over your throbbing bud. You throw your head back shamelessly, mindless with pleasure as Max devours you.

So good, so unbearably good …

He ravishes you thoroughly, sending gushing waves of release crashing through your body over and over again until you’re gasping and quivering. Atoms of blissful satisfaction hum in your bloodstream as you float back into sweet oblivion.

An insistent nudge against your belly slowly rouses you. Max looms over you, hair deliciously rumpled and eyes glittering wickedly. “Did I satisfy that craving sufficiently? Or should I keep going?”

Your mouth curves in a greedy smile, hands gliding over his flexing shoulders and chest. “Again, please ...”

It had long since become a running gag around the paddock and team — before you were advised to stop flying. When you couldn’t be located, someone would joke that you must be off ravaging your utterly besotten husband yet again.

Max took the ribbing with surprising grace, grinning unrepentantly whenever his shirt collar revealed another blossom of lovebites discoloring the skin of his throat.

You really didn’t care about the teasing. You’re indulging an entirely healthy and normal craving — just a wife thoroughly appreciating her man.

“Can you believe people used to call this a punishment?” You giggle breathlessly one afternoon.

Max nips a stinging path along the soft skin of your inner thighs, tracing tantalizingly close to your heated center. He laves his tongue soothingly over the reddened marks, leering up at you from between your parted legs.

“Let them call it whatever they want. I’m just taking advantage of your hormones making you insatiable for me.”

“Mmm, well I can’t seem to resist your obscenely perfect body either,” you admit with a lazy stretch. “Maybe we really are being punished.”

One dark brow wings up eloquently as Max drags his eyes over you in a deliberately insolent perusal. Taking your leg in hand, he licks an achingly slow, filthy stripe up the crease where thigh meets hip.

You choke on a whimper, whole body jolting as he sucks a blossom of wet kisses into the satiny expanse of your inner thigh. Those bright grey eyes hold yours in wicked challenge as his clever tongue massages and swirls over your sensitized flesh.

“This certainly doesn’t seem like punishment to me,” he husks darkly. “Does it feel like punishment when I do this ...” His mouth moves higher. “Or this ...”

By the time he finishes torturing you into a quivering, needy wreck, you’re more than ready to beg.

“Please, Max!” You sob, bucking helplessly against the maddening sensations. “I need you, oh god I need you so bad ...”

He settles heavily over you, nuzzling your hair aside to trail searing kisses along your damp throat. “Then you shall have me. My needy wife can have whatever she craves ...”

It’s midway through one such shattering round of lovemaking that Max’s phone begins to ring shrilly. You try to disentangle, burning embarrassment tinting your cheeks, but he simply growls and clutches you tighter.

“Leave it!” He bites out, surging forward to recapture your mouth in a bruising clash of teeth and tongue between thrusts. “I’m busy ... satisfying … my wife ...”

After, as you lie tangled in a sweaty heap of satiation, you can’t resist asking with a wry smile, “Was that another craving I just demanded you satisfy?”

Max props himself up on one elbow, thumb stroking idly along your abdomen as his piercing gaze roams over your flushed, disheveled form.

“Whatever my wife needs,” he responds huskily. Those burning eyes promise infinite carnal delights to come as they caress your body. “I’ll always crave giving her everything she desires.”

He stretches beside you, a blissful smile curving his lips as you snuggle up against his side to exchange lazy kisses.

You’ve got a sneaking suspicion this is one craving that might outlast the pregnancy ...

[mauvecherie-writes]

FREAKTOBER 01 | lewis hamilton.

RATING: 18+ mature NSFW

🎀 FREAKTOBER MASTERLIST 🎀

You’ve been riding Lewis and you’re so close to coming. One hand is on his shoulder and the other is on his chest before it moves to tug on his hair. You pull him in for a kiss before having to pull away because your orgasm is so close.

“Fuck baby I’m gonna cum!” He looks at you and holds your hips, bringing you down to meet his thrusts. His dick is touching your g-spot and you blow. You moan so loud and and you began to shake as your climax wrecks your body. You’re trying to stop him but he keeps going, wanting to feel you drench him again.

“You got another one in you baby.” You’d been going at it for a couple of hours and this had been your fourth orgasm of the session. But Lewis still wanted more.

“I don’t think I can.” You cry as you look down at him. His hand comes to your throat and squeezes as he forces you to move up and down his cock.

“Yes you fucking do. I know you do.” Lewis growls at you as his free hand comes to your back and guides you to fuck him harder, feeling him deep inside of you, you gasp, eyes crossing as your walls began to tremble again and you chase that high once more.

“Oh my god!! Yes I do. Yes yes yes yes yes.” You chant as you dig your nails into his biceps as you fuck him with all your might before coming harder than before.

“Fuuuucccckkkkkk!” You exclaim as your slick drenches his cock and his thighs. Lewis, trapped inside of you and feeling you gush around him triggers his climax.

“Uuhhhh fuck!” He hisses as he pulls you up just enough to see himself fill you up. You hold the base of his cock still as you make sure that he doesn’t spill any drop as he fills you up. You moan softly before smiling as you bit your lip.

“You feel so good baby.” You purr. He growls before pulling you forward and crashing your lips.

Your make-out session is cut short when a knock comes to the door of his motorhome.

“I know you’re busy in there but, I need Lewis ready in 15 minutes.” The voice of Rosie coming through. You giggle in embarrassment as you hide your face in his neck.

“Sorry Rosie, I’ll be out there in a second.” Lewis replies as he picks you up and walks towards the en-suite. “We have exactly five minutes for me to make your cum again before she comes back and we’re really in trouble.”

“Well your current record is two and a half minutes so that shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

if you’re in orange, I could not tag you 🩷

reading list: @hopefulromantic1 @melodicheauxxlovesfood @saintslewis @cocobutterqwueen @blowmymbackout @mochachocolatteyaya @weetjy @greedyjudge2 @melaninpov @pickingupmymercedes @lewisroscoelove @kindan3rdy951 @elyseesarchive @sl33p-deprived-princess @soiguessimtheshit @acidlv @takeoffz-tookoff9876 @kriegertops @ermlolol @theogbadbitch @trinitoldyouso @ethereal555 @xoxoxoxo9988000 @crispyengineersalad @lovelyluna-s-blog @astrorainbow @marybabysworld @jazziejax @silia1raf @cippy @unabashedbelieverbanana @justkhloe2000 @laylaynaynay130 @khalaaylah @ojijhij @plan666 @crissrou @amyhennessyhouse @bebesobrielo @pandababy23 @cookiecutterzers56 @cameroncrazie13 @shescatrinaxo @efefrf @lovedlover @laulaleinchen @ceeverse @gangstressesss @wvvkndvibez @minibosslele @st4rgirliesstuff @gwenda-fav

[haveagarbageday]

Got a secret, can you keep it? \\ Charles Leclerc, Max Verstappen (Lestappen)

summary: You're looking for your runaway driver in the paddock when you see something you shouldn't have. Before you know it, you become a part of this well-kept secret.

additional info: I'm on a roll! No, actually, I posted the Max one while I was at work, and then I had half a day left with nothing to do. This idea came to my mind and I had to write it down.

“The moment I find you, Lando, I’m going to skin you,” you hissed into your phone as you searched the paddock for the problem child.

But he only laughed at you, clearly enjoying the hide and seek game he had decided to play with you today. The problem is that he stopped in front of a camera, ready to give an interview, but two sentences in, his attention was diverted by some drama in the background, and he left to check it out. You had to apologize several times, promising to catch him and drag him back to do this properly. But damn it, he was good at hiding. This wasn’t the first time he hid from you, and something told you he could be literally anywhere, even in another team’s motorhome. Anything was possible with this little gremlin.

You reached a quieter part of the paddock that was full of spaces protected from the crowd, the perfect spot for Lando to hide. So, you methodically began to search for him, not missing any of the hidden corners and narrow alleys between the buildings either, but you found nothing. Your frustration was growing with each passing second, with each empty space that seemed to be free of him. When you reached the last one of the alleys, you saw movement in the back, and you were happy that you finally found the runaway driver.

Well, you couldn’t be more wrong. Because it wasn’t Lando, and it wasn’t just one person either. The signature blue and red colors of their shirts made it clear which team they were from, but when you looked at their faces, blood froze in your veins. You knew about all the jokes, all the fan theories and hopes, but never, not even in your wildest dreams could you imagine this happening. Sure, they clearly looked more at ease in each other’s company after sessions in recent years, which was good, people loved it, yet you still couldn’t wrap your head around the sight in front of you.

After seeing them almost swallow each other, Lestappen wasn’t just an urban legend to you anymore. Fuck. You wished you didn’t see that. You could already feel the heavy weight on your shoulder.

Before they could spot you, you decided to do the sensible thing and turned around to leave as quietly and as soon as you could. But not two steps later you heard a voice behind you. “Wait, let’s talk about this, okay?” Max said, taking a step closer to you, his hand resting on Charles’s arm.

Letting out the breath you’d been holding, you folded your hands behind your back and took a step closer to them. “I didn’t see anything, I swear. My lips are sealed, you don’t need to worry about that,” you were quick to assure them. Silence fell between the three of you, but then you remembered why you were here in the first place. “Have you guys seen Lando? He’s being difficult today.”

“Have you tried his driver’s room? He’s probably in the most obvious place,” Max offered, knowing the Brit well enough to give you his best guess.

Okay, you already knew he was smart, but this was the best idea you had heard in a while. Lando would surely pull something like this; chilling in his room, maybe playing some games, then giving you a surprised look as he went: “What do you mean? I’ve been here the whole time!” Wouldn’t be the first prank he pulled on you, that’s for sure.

You thanked him, then turned to leave again, and this time they didn’t stop you. But you heard murmuring, a quiet conversation that didn’t sound panicked, in fact, it sounded like they were discussing something excitedly. Whatever it was, it wasn’t your business. None of this was your business, so you were trying your damn best to forget the whole thing.

The problems began the next day after qualifying, when you were in the media pen with Lando, watching him like a hawk, and shepherding him around to make sure he did exactly what he was supposed to. You were between two interviews, discussing a few things, when Max approached you and stopped next to you to talk to his friend. You greeted him like you normally would, but otherwise you didn’t dare to move or speak, afraid it would become obvious you were hiding something. It probably takes time to get comfortable with the secret you knew, it couldn’t be more than that.

But then you felt a jolt of electricity run through your body as Max casually put a hand on your back while he talked, making it look like it was just a friendly move and nothing more. How could this be an innocent move when you could feel his thumb pressing into your skin, drawing slow circles to drive you crazy? You glanced over at him, and you could have sworn you saw a smug smirk tugging at his lips for a moment when he felt your eyes on him.

Lando was oblivious to the whole scene, he was just smiling brightly and giggling as they talked, too lost in their conversation to notice the way the Red Bull driver teased you. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed the reporter you’d been waiting for signal you that they were ready for the chat with your driver, so you apologized for interrupting them, then gently pushed him in the right direction. This left you and Max alone, and he finally let his hand drop to his side as he turned to you, the mischievous glint in his eyes giving away that whatever he was about to say would make you mad.

“How does it feel to know?” he asked casually, sipping on his Red Bull as if you were talking about the weather. Your eyes turned to him, silently begging him to drop this topic, but he didn’t seem to be interested in letting you off the hook. “We talked last night, you know. It feels so good that someone apart from the two of us knows the truth. Seriously, it’s so tiring to hide from the whole world, not having the chance to talk about the highs and the lows or ask for an outsider’s opinion when there’s a fight or disagreement.”

At first, you were just the kind of friend they’d been waiting for, serving as a neutral outsider when they needed another opinion about something. Then you began to hang out with them, one at the time, eventually serving as a glue between the two rivals who hadn’t really been seen together outside the paddock. Because one day you followed a well-prepared choreography at a bistro, making it look like you were out with Charles, while Max jumped in to get some food to go. Then you noticed each other, started talking, and he ended up taking a seat and joining you for dinner.

The same thing happened a few weeks later, when you and Max went to a club, where surprise, surprise, Charles showed up to greet you. The three of you got comfortable on a curvy couch in a corner of the VIP section, downing shots like there was no tomorrow, too lost in your little bubble to notice what you were doing. Because Max had an arm around your shoulder, talking to you while Charles moved forward to capture your lips in a drunken kiss, and only then did you catch the Dutchman whisper into your ear how much fun the three of you could have if you went home with them that night.

You only realized their relationship turned into your relationship, when Lando asked you about a photo of the three of you hanging out in the paddock on a race weekend, chatting and joking freely over your breakfasts. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with them off the track too. Why don’t you ever hang out with me when you’re in Monaco? You’re so mean,” he said with a pout.

Friends. That’s what you were for outsiders. It was good. With the days spent together getting more frequent though, you knew it was only a matter of time before someone sniffed out the truth. All the nights spent tangled up in bed, with the two of them making a competition out of pulling as many orgasms out of you as they could, surely had a toll on you. Physically, you were more than okay, they made sure of that, but being in this relationship was surely difficult to handle mentally.

“I’m not hanging out with you, you muppet, because I might drown you in a glass of water after five minutes. Babysitting you on race weekends is more than enough, thank you,” you told him with your tongue stuck out.

This conversation made you think, it made you reconsider what you’d been doing in the past months with the boys. For one, it was a dangerous game. Hanging out together more and more, especially when you were at a place where they couldn’t keep themselves under control thanks to the level of alcohol in their bloodstreams, the risk of someone finding out their little secret was higher than before you had been dragged into their life. Then there was the fact that you felt like shit. It felt like you were a piece that didn’t fit. They were so good together, why would you stand between them?

You knew that ending a relationship in a text was the worst, but you didn’t want to give them the chance to start negotiating. So, after the race weekend was over, you sent them a text that you wouldn’t go with them this time, then left the group chat, blocked the both of them, and got on the plane back home. The plan was simple: you would spend a few days watching movies and TV shows that were in your backlog while eating unhealthy snacks, and maybe you would meet some of your friends if they still remembered you.

What could possibly go wrong with that?

Well, everything. It was only your first full day at home when your doorbell rang in the early afternoon, and when you opened it, you found a very disheveled Charles standing there, watching you with a disapproving look on his face. You were ready to tell him to leave you alone, but then he gave you the puppy eyes as he let out a tired sigh, and there was no way you could shut the door in his face. You stepped aside and let him in, stopping in the living room door as you watched him sit down on the couch, and when he patted the empty space next to him, you were stupid enough to do exactly what he wanted. If things went like this, you would agree to whatever he came up with. 

“Blocking us? Really?” he asked you, the hint of disappointment not missing from his voice. “You could’ve at least talked to us in person, give us a proper explanation instead of disappearing like that. What the hell were you thinking? We would meet at race weekends anyway, you can’t think we wouldn’t corner you there.”

Looking away, you gulped and thought about what to say. There were so many things you wanted to say, so many stupid, fake explanations for your decision, but deep inside you knew you had to be honest with him. “You were fine together, Charles. Before I found out the truth, you had everything under control, and you were happy. But then you dragged me into your little secret, eventually poisoning our so-called friendship with casual sex, and–”

“So-called friendship? And casual sex?” he asked, his head slightly tilted to the side, eyes narrowed as he watched you. “Did it ever mean anything to you?” 

You hesitated, unsure of what to say. You really liked them, but the fact their relationship had a lot more history always made you feel like someone who didn’t belong. To you it was casual, just an outlet for getting rid of all the stress your job and keeping their secret came with. Just sex, nothing more. No emotions were supposed to be involved. Sure, they were friends, but it wasn’t love.

Apparently, you were an open book to Charles, because he ran a hand through his hair with a groan as he watched you. “We trusted you.”

“You can still trust me, I won’t tell anyone,” you assured him. 

He let out a desperate laugh. “It’s not that kind of trust, we know you wouldn’t tell anyone. I’m talking about us, about our relationship. We thought you felt the same way we did, that you loved us too. You could’ve been honest, you could’ve told us it didn’t mean anything to you before we caught feelings,” he told you, his voice forced to stay calm. 

“Charles, just try to hear me out. The two of you, that’s the relationship that can work in the long term,” you began to explain. “Me? I’m just… I don’t even know what I was to you. A plaything? A brand new shiny toy?”

“You’re not some toy!” he snapped, finally showing you how he truly felt about this conversation. “You, Max, and me? This could work so well if you just stopped being stubborn. Okay, I admit, we never thought about the possibility of a relationship like this, we always thought it would be just the two of us, but that’s because we had to keep it a secret. But you finding us that day? That was the best thing that could happen to us. We love you just as much as we love each other, that’s what you need to understand,” he explained as he grabbed your chin to force you to look at him. 

You took a deep breath to calm yourself, but the way he was watching you, silently begging you to accept the truth… It was too much. Tears began to roll down your cheeks, but he wiped them away, he kept telling you that it was okay, that everything would be okay, and there was no reason to cry. He repeated this enough times to make you believe it. You were beginning to believe they truly loved you, and you actually thought about the possibility of continuing this from where you had left off. Once your tears stopped coming, he leaned in to kiss you with a small smile on his lips. 

His stupid green eyes were mesmerizing as he watched you, and no matter how hard you wanted to resist, how badly you wanted to be strong and step back, you just couldn’t get yourself to say no to him. Sadly, he was well aware of this ability of his, he had used it on both Max and you a few times before to get what he wanted, and this time he looked just as smug as he always did after a win. 

“Pack a suitcase, because you’re coming with me,” he whispered to you. “Until you get ready, I’ll call Max to tell him the good news.” 

You began to wonder how long it would take you to admit to yourself just how important they had always been to you. Because they were important, no matter how many times you told yourself this meant nothing to you, otherwise you wouldn't be in your bedroom now, packing the suitcase as he asked. You wanted to please him, you wanted them to be happy, and why would you feel this way if you were indifferent?

Maybe this time you would be able to let yourself go and enjoy the relationship, and you would finally believe this could work.

As you were thinking about this, your phone that you left on your nightstand began to vibrate and the screen lit up. You picked it up and saw a message from Lando: “Have you seen this? Max's jet is at an airport near you, but I know for a fact he's at home. WHAT ARE YOU HIDING????”

Okay, maybe letting yourself go wasn't an option.

[fernandopiastri28]

Hello! I loved your last oscar fic so maybe you could do one when oscar repays her and is focused only on her pleasure?

hands in your hair ~ oscar piastri

It’s only a few minutes of this before Oscar begins to get increasingly more irritated. A string of whines and groans leave his mouth as her nails scratch at his scalp and his hips shift against the cushioning under him, desperate for friction and pressure. “Y/N,” He mumbles into the flesh of her thighs, “I’m horny,”

Shocker. “Same,” She cranes her neck and hunching her back awkwardly so she can kiss the back of his head. His hair smells vaguely of sweat and some expensive aftershave, hints of hotel shampoo underneath. It’s distinctively Oscar, her favourite.

His fingers drive into her thighs, leaving white splodges in their wake. “Can I go down on you?”

wc: 2,437 || warnings: pure smut- oral (f), mentions of sex, hair kink??

(self indulgent- just me being obsessed with oscar's longer hair)

Her finger’s card through the soft locks of his brunette hair, relishing in just how long his hair’s gotten. It looks better than it has throughout their whole relationship, and she’s seen her fair share of his interesting haircuts. For a moment, her hands pull away and her touches stop. He wiggles around, his head lolling around in her lap. “Why’d you stop?” His voice comes out as a grumble, a slight pout to his lips.

“Sorry, Oz,” Y/N giggles, her thumbs moving to brush over his cheeks before moving back into his hair. His eyes are shut, trying to get in a last little bit of sleep before he has to get in the car for free practice 3. Oscar Piastri napping minutes before he has to be driving around a track he’s never driven before in his career- fork found in kitchen. He would sleep forever if he could, and likely would if it weren’t for Y/N, Andrea, and Lando all having to try to wake him up.

A knock sounds on the door a few minutes later, proving her point further. “Osc?” Lando’s voice travels underneath the door of Oscar’s room in the motorhome. When he doesn’t get a response, he calls out again. “Y/N, stop sucking his cock, we need to get in the cars soon” She cringes out, turning dark red that that’s what’s presumed they do whenever they’re alone.

It kinda is, but not always. “He’s sleeping, not getting head,” She retorts, enjoying her last few minutes before he gets whisked away.

“Sleeping, sex, quickies- who cares, please just wake him up,” Lando keeps knocking on the door and she frowns slightly, sad that her time with her boyfriend has to be cut short for him to race.

“Yeah, give me a sec,” She weasels her way out from under him, slipping down enough for her feet to hit the floor. “Oscar, time to wake up,” She brushes her hair off his forehead, kissing at the revealed skin. “Cmon, neither of us want you to get in trouble with Zak because you’ve just decided you don’t want to race today,” 

He groans, rolling himself over to bury his face into a cushion. “Fine,” His arms click as he pushes himself up, his fireproof top having hitched itself up to show off the majority of his toned abdomen. “Only because I don’t want to end up in a Danny Ric situation,” She sucks in a deep breath at that, her mouth moving into a grimace. “Sorry, too soon,” 

Oscar needs to remember that even though she’s his girlfriend, she’s a Ricciardo fan firstly, a true aussie supporting her country. “Good luck, loverboy” She pulls him in for a final kiss just as he’s working on getting his race suit zipped up, forgetting he only has one of his arms in a sleeve.

His hand squeezes at her waist, pushing it slightly into the edge of the bench they were previously perched upon, “Back here at the end of practice?” His adorable bunny teeth scrape along her bottom lip, his lips clasping around it.

“You’ve got it,” She sends him off with a swift smack to the butt, getting a howl out of him and a permanently red face of embarrassment when he sees that Lando saw the whole thing. 

He’s never going to hear the end of it.

~~~

Oscar goes crazy on the radio as free practice 3 ends, securing him a first place ‘position’ after getting second in the prior session. For a track that had been cancelled last year, causing him to miss out on racing it before today, he’s doing exceptional. He hurries back to his driver room, excited to get back to spending time with Y/N before qualifying. 

“Oz!” She’s already back on the bench, having made her way out of the paddock once the session had ended to avoid crowds of interviewers. “You were so good, baby!” She reaches her arms out, wrapping her legs around his waist once he’s fully in the hug.

His head buries into the crook of her neck, his hair tickling at her nose, “Did it for you,” He murmurs, his lips aimlessly moving against the collar of her shirt, unintentionally wetting it. “Can we cuddle like before? Your hands in my hair?” The question is slightly muffled by the angle he’s at, but she gets it enough. He’s not really one to go all out with celebrating, and FP3 isn’t something huge to party about anyways. 

She leans back, her head hitting against the wall and lets her legs dangle over the edge so her thighs squish up, just like how Oscar likes. He palms at them, before just dropping his head down onto them, using them as cushions. His cheeks get all smushed up, just like they do under his helmet. Without much time after that, her hands move to his hair, tugging on it ever so slightly, the floppy strands long enough to nearly cover her fingers completely as they disappear under all the brown hair there. He turns over slightly, enough to be looking up at her and have his head up closer to her face. 

After eye fucking eachother for what seems like a decade, his lips press into hers. The kiss is agonisingly slow, strings of spit connecting them and teeth tugging on each other's lips. Their faces seem to merge into one the longer it lasts, each breath being inhaled in tandem. The nose of smacking lips and wet suckling fills the small room, hands going on hips and waists as desperate attempts to hold back whatever incoming lustre they’re both heading towards until they get home tonight. 

They just have to wait til after quali, get back to the hotel, then they can fuck it out. 

Y/N’s the one who ends up pulling away, knowing she’s not strong enough to hold back if they’re gonna continue making out. Oscar’s an exceptional kisser, and sometimes, just that is enough for her to get off on. So they go back to Oscar’s head in her lap, sitting in silence as she strokes his head.

It’s only a few minutes of this before Oscar begins to get increasingly more irritated. A string of whines and groans leave his mouth as her nails scratch at his scalp and his hips shift against the cushioning under him, desperate for friction and pressure. “Y/N,” He mumbles into the flesh of her thighs, “I’m horny,”

Shocker. “Same,” She cranes her neck and hunching her back awkwardly so she can kiss the back of his head. His hair smells vaguely of sweat and some expensive aftershave, hints of hotel shampoo underneath. It’s distinctively Oscar, her favourite. 

His fingers drive into her thighs, leaving white splodges in their wake. “Can I go down on you?” That’s just about the last thing she was expecting to come out of his mouth. It’s not completely out of character for him, he’s actually pretty insistent on spending evenings after races in between her legs, whether his result was good or not. He could spend eternity there, his mind all foggy and dreamlike- like he’ll stay there forever. “I won’t make a mess- I promise, we can be quick. I just wanna make you feel good,”

It’s her favourite request, and her dress is hitched up before he can ask again. Towards the beginning of last season, she’d worn a wide variety of jeans and other long pants, until she realised just how many they found themselves desperate for a quickie before or in between races, and she’d permanently switched to flowy dresses and skirts ever since. 

He arranges himself onto his front, up on his knees and hands while he keeps his chest the lowest angled part of his body. She’s laying in the same direction as him, her knees towards the ceiling and her back flush to the bench, her fingers occupied by playing with the hem of her dress so as to not cum the second she sees his desperate face in between her parted legs. 

It feels like her heart is stopping as his breath gets heavier and hotter on her clothed heat, the fabric basically ruined from how wet she’s gotten. A digit glides across the soaked material, taunting her as he pushes against it. “Fuck, Oscar,” She hits her head down against the pillow under her head, not even realising when she’d gotten this needy.

“You’re dripping,” He notes, his eyes huge and glossy, all mesmerised by the sight. A finger hooks into her waistband, pulling them down tantalisingly slowly. She forces her head up, just enough to study his expression from just above her cunt. He licks his lips, his pupils somehow growing bigger. “Holy shit,” He doesn’t waste a second, his face plunging forward so get his mouth all over her.

Oscar’s talented in many things. Driving, writing hit tweets, taking digs at DRS, being mature in all circumstances, making people laugh with his dry and sarcastic humour, but above all- he’s got a talented mouth. His teeth scrape along her clit, sending shocks of pleasure through her bundle of nerves. Y/N could cum just from that, it feels like floating on cloud nine. She doesn’t even understand how it could possibly get any better until his nose begins nudging her clit, his tongue pushing inside her hole. 

His cock was leaky in his tight boxers, his rock hard bulge still concealed by his fireproofs handing awkwardly off his hips. As she stared down at him, she somehow got even wetter each time he paused momentarily to stare at her wrecked cunt then dove back in like a starved creature. Unclips nails dig further into her thighs, pushing them further apart so his face is fully coated in her wetness. “Oh my god Oscar,” Her voice comes out so depraved and debauched.

Only his eyes are visible as he keeps his steel hard gaze on her. A pair of usually big, puppy brown eyes, the type that ooze innocence and angelic beauty are hardened and dark with lust. Her hands slip into his hair, needing something to ground her as he takes her apart from the inside out. She genuinely can’t get over his hair. How silky it is, how good it feels to yank on, how hot he looks.

His fingers move from her thighs up to under her shirt, practised fingers trailing under the wire of her bra. He pulls the tight fabric far enough from her skin that it leaves a pale mark when it snaps back after release. It’s hell being tortured like this, but it also feels so good. His indexes and thumbs on both hands work the clasp of the bra, undoing it with not much work. It’s an improvement from a few months prior when she’d settled for doing each time as he was so clueless on how to do it smoothly. 

The crazed look in his eyes speaks a million words. She might be the only one getting a proper physical sexual gratification out of this, but he’s clearly getting off on her being in near excruciating pleasure. It feels better than anything they’ve done in a while. She bites her lip, watching as a lock of hair falls onto his forehead, a perfect little curl above his furrowed eyebrows. It’s cute, it’s hot, it’s everything- all at once. 

Now Y/N feels like she could cum just because of his hair, and that’s definitely a new thought.  

He moans, watching his eyes soften at the noise, “That’s so good- you’re fucking amazing at this,” He’s relentless- his tongue, noise, lips, and teeth all committed to making her reach her peak. “Look at you,”

“Look at me? Look at you,” God, he’s so whipped. His index finger glides along her open hole, slipping it inside her and curling it instantaneously. A pain bubbles in her stomach- she’s going to cum. “Fuck, look at that, so perfect around my fingers, just as perfect in my mouth.” She’s leaking around his fingers, her body reacting to his ministrations and praises. 

He can read her like a book, he knows that her twisted up expression can only mean one thing. “You don’t need to ask me, baby, you can come when you need to,” A sharp breath leaves her lungs and her head falls backwards, her orgasm crashing into her like a freight train. 

He kisses up from her aching cunt to her the lower part of her stomach, then her abdomen. He takes his time on her exposed breasts, his tongue swirling around her nipples, before marking her with a love bite in between them. “Looks good on you,“ He looks down at her from where he kneels between her legs, basically drooling at how wrecked she looks post orgasm underneath him. 

Y/N struggles to prop herself up on her elbows, her core aching as she tries to sit up. She angles for a kiss, luckily met halfway by Oscar. “Your turn.. I wanna suck you off,” She pants, her hand moving to push down his race suit. He swats her hand away, laughing at her eagerness. 

“Nah, that was plenty for me to get you off,” He declines, slowly getting off of her so he can clean up the mess he did make in the end, despite his promise. She opens her mouth to argue with him but she’s swiftly shut up with his mouth back on hers. “Plus, I have qualifying in… fuck, like 10 minutes,” He frowns, helping to redress her. 

“Oscar?” Lando’s voice joins the conversation, once again right outside their door. “Now are you getting your dick sucked?” He taunts, like it’s a joke this time around. “Or can we head for quali together?”

He’s wrong, it was the other way around. “Nah, I’ll be out in a moment. Thanks for waiting for me,” He zips his suit up, giving Y/N a final grin.

“Oscar,” She groans. She hates leaving him hard, it feels unfair that she’s just had the best orgasm of her life and he has to go get in a car and drive around at crazy stupid speeds with an aching mass between his legs. 

“Y/N,” He mocks teasingly, peppering her face in chaste kisses, “I’m okay, If I have a killer qualifying session tonight, we’ll continue this later. She gives a final comb through his hair with her fingers, enjoying every bit of it just incase he decides to cut it.

P2 sure is killer, and the sex after it is amazing. Even better when he finds out about the penalty, because angry Oscar is so hot. Her hands stay planted in his hair the whole time, and by the end of it, in their post coital comfort, he promises he won't cut it for as long as she wants.

[hurtblossom]

Get Lucky | CL16 - LN4

Paring : ex!Charles Leclerc x Singer!reader (fem) , Lando Norris x Singer!reader (fem)

Summary : Papaya did suit her better

Warning : None (enjoy)

Max's ending

Materlist, Part 1

Lando's ending :

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ynusername Thank you Paris for having me, you were all fantastic 🩷🩷 Next stop London 🤭

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danielricciardo any chance you pass by Australia ?

ynusername i can make it happen hun 😏

username you ate and left no crumbs queen

username FR ??!! how does it feel to carry the whole music industry on your back ? ynusername it's exhausting 😞

landonorris congrats !! can't wait to see you again 🧡

oscarpiastri mate... not the papaya heart landonorris i panicked ... 😞 carlossainz you're a lost cause lando username wtf is that ? ynusername i've been asking myself that for the past 20 minutes

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f1gossip Lando Norris seen attending Y/N concert in London, and the two of them left together afterwards

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username Oh Lando is down baaaaaad

username as she is, look at how she looked at him when she saw him in the crowd username that's what we call puppy love

username i didn't know i needed this couple before today

username Charles is not going to be happy with that

username no one cares

a month later

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 80'463'982 others

tagged : landonorris

ynusername so apparently i'm pretty 🤭🩷

see all 45'859 comments

danielricciardo MY BABIES 😞😞

ynusername papa ? landonorris No?

username are you crying? because i am...

username the ship have finally sailed 😞i feel like a proud mom ynusername mama?

landonorris you're perfect my love

username HIS LOVE ?????? ynusername daddy ? landonorris you're a nightmare

maxverstappen i was passing by the ferrari motorhome and all i could hear was screaming and crying

carlossainz i was in the ferrari motorhome, and there was screaming and crying ynusername 🙈🙉🙊

liked by ynusername, carlossainz and 79'998'247 others

tagged : ynusername

landonorris my girl 🩷

see all 20'098 comments

maxfewtrell how did you pull her ?

landonorris i don't know 😞 ynusername i could answer that but it might be just too much details landonorris 🙊🙊

username a whole post just for her

username he's down baaaadddd username charles could neeeeveeeeeerrrrr

ynusername i miss you pookie 😞

landonorris i miss you too my love

ynusername story

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 105'091'561 others

tagged : landonorris

ynusername My man is asking you to stream Nonsence and Feather babes xx

see all 80'091 comments

landonorris so you're thinking wild wild thoughts ? 😏😏

ynusername maybe i am 😏 danielricciardo THERE ARE CHILDREN ON THIS APP

danielricciardo slay queen 🧜‍♀️

ynusername papa ?

carlossainz i'll be listening to that on full blast all around the track

ynusername thank you hun, it means a lot 😘😘😘

username ate as always

landonorris i'm not sorry for his loss btw

username omg username tell them tiger ynusername you shouldn't be sorry baby

the end

taglist : @toasttt11 , @willowpains , @issi-loves-dannyric , @flowersonstreets , @shimmermotorsport , @landoslutmeout , @lottalove4evelyn , @socially-awkward-eliza

Feel free to leave comments 🩷

[f1goat]

roommates ; lando norris + part eight

In which you have to live with your brothers best friend who you really don't like, Lando Norris, and his many 'girlfriends' for a while, but there's always a thin line between love and hate.

masterlist - playlist

lando norris x fem!verstappen reader tw: smut & not proofread

Lando: Still not happy about you having your own hotel room

You let out a soft chuckle when you read Lando’s text message. Since you have gotten here on Wednesday, Lando has been whining about you having your own hotel room. You typ a reply, reminding him that it was him that booked the room for you. After getting back multiple sad smileys, you leave your phone alone. For now you have to focus on what you’re going to wear.

When Lando wasn’t whining about you having your own room, he has been whining about you not wearing his merchandise. So, when he started whining about that again today, you decided to change up your outfit after the third free practice. Lando however did think you’d be his after the third practice, but was disappointed to find out that you were already on your way back to the hotel. 

While looking in the mirror, you touch up your make up a bit. You’re pretty sure that you’ll be on a lot of gossip accounts after wearing this to the track. You don’t even know how Max is going to respond - you could always say that you’ve lost a bet? After spraying on some perfume, you take one last look in the mirror. Your reflection looks back at you. Dressed in a hoodie that you’ve snatched away from Lando his room recently, it’s pretty clear who you’re supporting. Lando his surname is all over the hoodie. Max is either going to laugh at you or be mad. Oops. 

In the mean time Lando is waiting impatiently for you to get back to the track. He almost feels annoyed with you for not being here. Your attention has been snatched away since you’re here. Not that Lando can blame you. He does however blame himself for getting you your own room. When he booked the room, he didn’t know yet that things would change between you two. It would be better if you shared his room with him. In some weird way Lando feels more peaceful while sleeping with you. 

He sighs when he sees another text from you coming in, telling him that you’re stopping by RedBull first to talk with your brother. This is what he meant. Lando can’t believe himself for feeling this way, but he realizes what a luxury it is to have you in his home normally. Before he realizes what he’s doing, Lando is already walking towards the RedBull motorhome as well. The gossip accounts will love this probably. He already wonders what kind of rumors they will make up to fit by the pictures. 

“Lando?” Max asks surprised when he sees his friend. Lando wants to reply, he really does, but then he notices you. The words that were almost out of his mouth, are quick to vanish. He can only focus on you. Fuck, he shouldn’t have come to RedBull. If he had you at the McLaren motorhome right now, he would drag you in his room and have his way with you until he really had to leave for qualifying. 

Lando can’t look away from you. He feels insane for responding like this, but he can’t focus on anything else then you right now. He can’t believe that you’re actually wearing his merchandise. Now that he takes a better look at it, Lando even starts to think that you’ve gotten this hoodie out of his closet. Something he only likes more.

“What are you doing here Lando?” Max asks again. 

This time the words come in. Lando thinks about a reply, but doesn’t know one. What is he doing here? He’s only here because he was too impatient to wait for you coming back to him. He probably shouldn’t say that. 

“Uh, picking up y/n,” Lando eventually lies. Although is it really a lie? He is here to take you with him towards the McLaren motorhome. “I told her I’d show her the McLaren motorhome,” he continues. You almost laugh when you hear Lando his obvious lies. When you look at your brother and jokingly shake your head, Max has to hold back a laugh as well. 

“Desperate excuse mate,” Max chuckles, “but have fun together.” 

Lando can’t help and lets out a soft nervous laugh as well. He’s bad at this. When he feels your hand around his upper arm, he shows you a soft grateful smile. “Let’s go,” you tell him. Lando nods. The both of you wish Max luck on his own qualifications and then turn away from the RedBull motorhome. 

“So I’m going to get a whole tour?” You jokingly ask Lando. 

Lando scoffs. “You’re getting a tour of the couch in my drivers room,” he states with a soft voice, “You’re going to find out how it feels to get fucked onto it.” 

You feel your cheeks heating up from the way Lando talks to you. When he shows you a small grin after those words, you’re pretty sure that you’ve actually fallen for him. This isn’t some silly little crush anymore. You really like him. Fuck. 

Within minutes Lando has you inside of the McLaren motorhome, hurried he walks with you towards his own driver room. There isn’t much time left and he really needs to fuck you in these clothes before having to qualify. You on the other hand are focussed on how different the McLaren motorhome looks. Normally Lando would have found your questions and interest adorable, but now he really needs to get you to his room. He is already having a hard time with keeping his hands of you, he needs to have you for himself. 

Right before he can open up the door and get you finally inside of his room, he walks into Oscar. Fuck. He tries to open his door anyways, but before he can get you in the room with him Oscar is already introducing himself. Lando sighs. How hard can it be to get you for himself?

“You’re y/n right?” Oscar asks you. He sticks out his hand for you to shake. Something you do quickly. “Yes! Nice to meet you Oscar,” you reply. 

“What are you doing at McLaren? Aren’t you supposed to support Max right now?” Oscar jokingly asks.

Before you can reply, Lando is already interrupting the conversation. “We really can’t talk right now, will see you later,” he informs Oscar. Then he’s quick to pulls you into his room with him. You can only show Oscar an apologetic look before Lando closes the door. You raise one of your eyebrows while looking at Lando. You’re curious what has him acting like this. The last days he was pretty close with you as well, but nothing like this. This seems like a whole new level. 

“You’re acting like you want everyone to find out that we’re fucking,” you playfully accuse Lando. 

“Says the one wearing my shirt,” Lando remarks. 

Then it clicks. Lando has been begging you to wear something like this. Is this his real reaction to you finally giving in to his pleas? He really must like it then. You feel your cheeks reddening. You really like this reaction. If you knew it would be like this, you would have worn his clothes since the first time he asked. 

“So you like it?” You ask.

Lando can’t hold back a smirk. “I love it babygirl,” he tells you. It makes you smile as well. You think about Lando his words from before. “So, where is this couch you were going to give me a tour from?” You ask him sweetly. 

Within seconds Lando has you pressed up against the wall. He’s messily kissing you. You feel his soft lips all over your body. His hands are quick to disappear underneath your skirt. He grabs your ass and firmly squeezes your cheeks. It makes you let out a soft yelp. Lando uses the short second in which your mouth is slightly opened to slide his tongue in your mouth. You don’t even try to fight for the dominance. 

Softly you let out a moan. You feel Lando smirk against your lips. It makes you almost roll with your eyes. Lando enjoys having you all worked up like this. 

“Lan,” you softly whimper when he’s still teasing you. Lando is pressing kisses against your neck. Softly he sucks on a small piece of your skin. He’s leaving a trail of love bites on your skin while moving downwards. It causes you to let out more moans. “Lan,” you whimper again, but louder this time.

Lando stops his movements. He’s waiting for you to say something. 

“Please do something,” you beg him. 

“So needy,” Lando tells you, “Such a needy girl.” 

It makes you only more aroused when Lando speaks to you like this. So when he continues with soft whispers in your ears, he doesn’t even have to do anything else for you to let out a hard moan. Lando chuckles, softly telling you that everyone can hear you like this. Normally you’d feel ashamed, but Lando doesn’t seem to mind it when you let out another moan. 

“Let them hear how good I make you feel,” Lando instructs you, “Don’t you dare to hold back.”

He finally slides aside your string. Teasingly he slides his finger through your slit. When he sees your eyes plastered on his face, Lando teases you even more. He takes his finger into his mouth, sucking of your wetness. 

“Taste so good princess,” Lando groans.

“Please Lan,” you whine, “Don’t tease.” 

It seems like Lando is shaking his head at you. You’re afraid he’s going to tease you a lot more then this. Until you hear a loud knock on his door. The sounds gets you back to reality. Fuck. What is someone walks in on you? Lando notices your shock. He thinks it’s pretty cute. You think it’s less cute when he starts to take of his race suit. Isn’t he stressing about someone walking in?

“Lando!” The person yells through the door, “You have two minutes before you have to get in the car.”

Lando doesn’t back down from you. His race suit is hanging around his ankles. Softly you take his boner in your hands. You guess this is going to be a fast one. Lando doesn’t seem like he wants to stop before fucking you properly. 

It doesn’t last long before he shows you that you’re right. Lando slides his finger through your slit again. He uses a bit of your slick to make his dick a bit more sleek. 

“I’m serious Lando!” The person yells again. 

“Yes, almost ready,” Lando tells them with a loud voice. You hear how the person is walking off. 

“Ready princess?” Lando asks you softly. You show him a small nod. That’s all it takes for Lando to slide inside of you. He fucks you on a fast pace. Slamming himself in and out of you. You can’t do anything else then moaning his name. Lando knows how to make you feel good. His finger finds your clit. He traces it. 

“Tonight I’m going to take all my time with you,” Lando promises with a soft whisper in your ear, “but only if you ask me nicely if you can cum.”

Within seconds pleas are rolling of your lips. Lando can’t stop smirking. This sight makes him fall even harder for you. He’s quick to tell you that you can cum, only to increase his pace even more. When you let out a long moan, Lando is quick to follow you into his orgasm as well. 

“If you’re going to react like this every time I wear you clothes, I think I’ll wear them a lot more often,” you jokingly tell Lando after catching your breath. 

“My closet is yours babygirl,” Lando is quick to tell you. 

+++

After the race weekend, Lando had to be in MTC for a couple days. Which caused one good thing, you didn’t have to answer his question - what you’re exploring together - for now. That conversation has been delayed. Something you’re quite glad about, because you still have no idea what to answer. After this weekend you can safely say that you’ve fallen in love with Lando, but you’re still not sure about his intentions. Maybe you should speak to Max about this? It wouldn’t surprise you if Max knows more about this. 

It only lasted one day for you to get bored in Lando his apartment. Since Max is also busy with training, you can’t visit him as well. Boring. You’re really bored. It caused you to look around in Lando his apartment better. No, you didn’t snoop in his bedroom or game/work room. But you did figure out that Lando really doesn’t know how to decorate. 

Something that caused you to finally figure out what to do the next days. If you’re right, Lando is away for two more days. He texted you before that if he was lucky he could come back home tomorrow eve at it’s earliest. So, you have a bit of time left. That’s exactly why you’re busy with putting bags inside of Lando his McLaren. Maybe you should have taken a car with you with a bit more packing space? 

“He’s either gonna hate or love me,” you softly mutter to yourself while continuing to press the bags together. Quickly you take a picture of the overloaded trunk and text it to Max.

y/n: time to redecorate

You smile at your phone. Lando did tell you a couple times that he wouldn’t care if you changed a couple things. He even said that you could paint to walls pink at one point. If he lets you drive in his McLaren, he surely doesn’t mind a couple changes to his decor.. Right? 

While driving back you think about everything you’ve gathered. It’s not like you’re going to paint his house, but you’re going to make it a bit more homey. It’s not like you’ve only bought stuff which you like, you even went out of your way to meet up with a fan for a fan art of Lando. 

Coming back to Lando his apartment, it takes you a while to unload the trunk of his McLaren. Your hands are quite full while walking towards the elevator. When you’re finally back in the apartment and unpacked all your bags, it’s starting to stress you out a bit. What if you bought to many? You try to set aside those thoughts.

You start to focus on redecorating the place. It doesn’t take you long before you see the first changes. It’s a wonder what a couple decorations can do. You can’t wait for tomorrow. You did order a couple things as well which certainly wouldn’t fit in the McLaren. You’re still doubting if you’re going to make changes to Lando his bedroom as well. You did buy some stuff for it, but you’ll probably wait for Lando to come back so he can make that decision. 

You almost jump up when you hear the doorbell. You didn’t expect that. Now that you think of it, you expect no one. Should you even open it? What if there’s someone for Lando? Worse thoughts are entering your mind. You can’t stop about thinking about a possibility that there’s a girl standing in front of the door for Lando. You try to discard those thoughts, but it doesn’t work that quickly. It reminds you about the biggest problem you have with answering Lando his question, you don’t know what you’re exploring with him because you don’t know if you can trust him. 

After a bit of doubting you walk towards the front door. You’re glad when you see that it’s just Max who’s standing in front of the door. Quickly you open the door for him. 

“Max,” you happily greet him, “I was about to call you tonight.”

“Here I am,” Max chuckles. 

You try to talk about nothings for a while, but you keep thinking about Lando. You want ask Max multiple questions, he must know something from Lando right? You do however have no idea how to start a conversation about your brothers best friend. 

It doesn’t take long before you’re drifting off in your thoughts. You can’t help it. Last days, or better said since your first night with Lando, this keeps happening to you. Since Lando is in Woking it has only gotten worse. It makes you realizes that you’re missing him. You’re actually missing Lando. That can’t be good.

Max is about to say something, but you need to get out your words. You don’t care about interrupting Max for now, you need to speak up because otherwise you probably never will. 

“Can I confess something?” You carefully ask Max.

You think about the way you’re going to tell Max. You can’t just confess that you’re fucking with his best friend, right? Max probably thinks you still dislike Lando. For a short moment you wonder about how Max will feel about this? It’s not like he’s going to get mad, right? You let out a soft sigh. Why didn’t you think about this before? There’s a possibility of Max getting mad at you, or at Lando. This is stupid. Before you can say anything else, Max is already talking to you. 

“Are you finally going to confess that you’re fucking with Lando?” Max asks you bluntly. 

You have no idea how to react to this. You inspect your brothers face. He doesn’t seem mad, but you never sure about that. Then you notice a soft sound coming from Max. It almost sounds like a soft laugh. Is he laughing about this? You look at your brother again. He is in fact laughing at you. 

“I’m not mad,” Max quickly tells you, “and you can’t be mad at Lando for telling me. He has been waiting for this to happen for ages.”

That makes you even more silent. Lando has been waiting for this to happen for ages? Just to have sex with you or for more? 

“Fuck I’ve said too much.” Max is quick to realize his mistake. “Don’t tell him I said that,” he pleads you. 

“What did you mean with it?” You ask Max.

“Answer my question first,” Max tells you, “What do you feel for Lando?”

This time you don’t hold back. You’ve been waiting for someone to ask you this. It feels like a weight gets lifted off your chest while confessing to your brother how you actually feel about Lando. 

“I think I’m in love with him,” you confess, “Is that bad? It’s just that I miss him since he has left my side and I can’t stop thinking about him.” You fall silent for a bit. You try to gather your thoughts and to make out a normal sentence. “I uh, I just feel different around Lando. He’s making me feel things I’ve never felt before, not even with my ex,” you confess to Max, “but..”

“I was already waiting for the but,” Max says.

“I don’t know if I can trust him,” you sigh, “I mean, he’s a player. Right? What if this is something else for him?”

“He was only fucking other girls because he thought he couldn’t get you,” Max confesses for his friend, “but I can’t tell you more then that. Trust him and you’ll find out quick enough that he’s head over heels for you.”

part nine

a/n ; thinking about ending this story soon - my inspiration is quite gone. hopefully some new ideas will hit me soon :) you can always send in request (not promising i'll write everything!) thanks for the support!!

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[sofs16]

a paddock day

charles x civilian!reader

yn

liked by yourbsf, and 12 others yn yo soy muy feliz aqui ! hasta mañanaaaaaa barcelona gp, te quiero mucho! [i am very happy here! see you tomorrow barcelona gp, i love you very much!]

view all 27 comments

yourbsf finally main girl gets to watch a gp!

⤷ yn literally jumped on this plane last night im shivering and quaking.

yourfriend ATE THAT UPPPPPP!!! WNJOY

⤷ yn THANKS BABESSS

yourbsf im literally telling u they’ll see u and go WOAH WOSH WASH! then theyll fall in love with you and you’ll be those lowkey ass wags

⤷ yn Should I just wear a giant banana costume to get their attention

⤷ yourbsf DUHHHH!!! and go public, theyll stalk you and follow u and ull go famous

⤷ yn what happened to being lowkey ass wag

⤷ yourbsf i can be your wag😊💋

yn instagram stories:

you strolled through the paddock through all motorhomes like a little girl, contained with excitement. a lot of people were there but somehow, not in front of the ferrari motorhome.

you saw a man dressed in all black (kind of stupid since it was burning hot) with black sunglasses as a hat on his head walk you way. “um excuse me? would you mind if you took my photo please?” you approached him as he turned to you

he looked at you but of course, he was wearing the sunglasses so you wouldn’t tell what he was thinking. did he not speak english?

“tu no hablas ingles?” you asked “Oh! No, sorry. I do speak english and of course. Where would you want to take it?” He said in a foreign language.

“Just here” you walked over to the 55 wall “You are a fan of Sainz?” He took your phone as you walked over “Both of them, but my best friend loves him and couldn’t come so I thought I’d send her a photo” you laughed as he did as well.

He took a few photos as you stood in front of the wall. “Leclerc or Sainz, for you?” He asked, handing you back your phone “Both” you said in an obvious manner

“Life or death” he laughed “….Leclerc… though, Ferrari needs to stop fucking him over so he can get another win” You shrugged, putting your phone in your pocket as he nodded with a smile. “You?” “Leclerc!” He exclaimed as you giggled, this man was quite fun.

“I lit a few candles today in hopes he might win, I really hope he does. Or any Ferrari win” You said “Do you have a number?” He asked stupid question he thought “I’m sorry— that was a stupid question” you laughed “Do you mind if we exchanged them?” You scratched you head “Um… ad much as I want to, I don’t exchange numbers with random attractive guys, I’m sorry” you laughed “Attractive? Thank you” “Well seeing as I can only see half your face…” you felt your phone start to vibrate and saw your friend calling you

“I have to go but it was lovely meeting you! I hope we get our Leclerc win today!” You started to walk backwards “You too!” You turned around, putting your phone to your ear as you head your best friend’s scream, unknowing that Charles’ eyes lingered on you.

It was only free practice today. He hoped to see you around more.

liked by 20 others yn LALALALALA

view all 32 comments

yourbsf LETS GO BITCH 55!!!!!!! yourbsf still think u shouldve given hottie your instagram

⤷ yn i got NERVOUS

june 2, 2023

liked by 21 others yn POLE POSITION LETS GO BABYGIRL

view all 23 comments

yourbsf CHARLES BABYGIRL LECLERC

⤷ yn FUCK YEAH

june 3, 2023

You were admiring the paddock once again, now race day, as you heard the familiar voice behind you. “I hope we get our Leclerc win today” you hear behind you and you start to smile. You turned around and your heart sank to your ass.

Charles babygirl Leclerc was smiling at you “excuse me?” you mumbled, mouth slightly ajar “I know, I was in a more casual outfit yesterday” he laughed and you looked him up and down, wearing his red Ferrari suit “es muy stúpida” you mumbled

“I know you maybe think this is weird but— I could really not stop thinking about you for the last few days and have been trying to find you” He chuckled softly as you felt like you hit your head on the pavement. Charles Leclerc looking for YOU?

“Well, you found me! Congrats on pole by the way” “Thank you! Though I hope to win tomorrow, for the both of us” “Oh please, I can’t take another Ferrari loss” you closed your eyes.

“You are spanish?” He asked “Oh, no! I just like learning languages and visit here a lot” you said “Would you mind… if you showed me Barcelona some time?” was he asking you out? “I- uhm- sure” you fumbled “You don’t give your number, so what about Instagram?” He smiled

“Sure” you grabbed your phone and showed it to him as he searched it up on his phone and suddenly, he was being called by fans. “It was nice seeing you again!” You walked as fast as you could to the other side and he smiled, shaking his head. yn

| charles_leclerc has requested to follow you! 1h

request accepted!

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, and 25 others

yn did not go with the banana outfit @yourbsf. so so sad its over BUT WE GOT A FUCKING LECLERC WIN AND DOUBLE FERRARI PODIUM LETS GO

view all 40 comments

yourbsf babes idt u needed the outfit…….

⤷ yn 🙂.

charles_leclerc You are welcome

⤷ yn thank you (and carlitos) for stopping the ferrari drought

yourfriend 😊 LETS GO BITCH

june 4, 2023

| charles_leclerc liked your story. 10m

| charles_leclerc liked your post. 7m

| charles_leclerc liked your post. 3m

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, and 12 others

yn mb my definition of “explore” is a museum LECLERC

view all 20 comments

charles_leclerc I enjoyed every moment, stop apologizing cherie. We need another one for more exploring! june 8, 2023

charles.16

liked by 2,594 others

charles.16 WHO IS THIS NEW WAG

view all 179 comments

chalando1 chilll probs just a fan

⤷ charles.16 they 😭 exchanged 😭 instagrams😭

updatef1I I FOUND HER @yn

⤷ yn no you didn’t

[COMMENT DELETED!]

f1w4gs SHES SO FUNNY I LOVE HER ALREADY june 8, 2023

f1wags._

liked by 3,281 others

f1wag._ Meet Yn Yln! Charles and her have been spending more time together and were rumored to have met in the Barcelona GP! We don’t know much about her as she’s very private but we’re already loving her humor!

#charlesleclerc #yn

view all 219 comments

f1circuitzz Whatt!!! She’s so beautiful

chacha16 What does she do and what country does she live in?

⤷ f1wag._ We know she is German but we don’t know if she still lives there. She’s a fashion student but don’t know what college/university!

ynsfan11 giggling at the bio

yncharles NEED HER AT THE PADDOCK / GARAGE AGAIN

user1 watch them be together for a week

user3 charles switched to blondes 🌝

june 8, 2023

charlesaep

liked by 6,272 others

charlesaep I CANT BREATHE YN AND CHARLES WERE RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME IM SWESTING IM CURING WHETHTHRUFKC

view all 328 comments

User1 why can’t she just walk

⤷ yntcdts calm down😭 theyre cute

june 10, 2023

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, and 8 others

yn i got a photographer now 🥹

view all 20 comments charles_leclerc i am “a photographer”

⤷ yourbsf i was THE photographer before you Charles Leclerc. ⤷ charles_leclerc But I am now her favorite one😂

⤷ yourbsf I HATE YOU. YN DUMP HIM

⤷ charles_leclerc NO

⤷ yn why would i dump him? he’s a 2 in one (driver and photographer) / im kidding sharl loveu

⤷ charles_leclerc I mean, I do love driving you around

⤷ yourbsf you both are disgusting

⤷ yn get dick

june 11, 2023

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 11 others yn is this montREAL?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? view all 8 comments

charles_leclerc I love it when my girl is a fangirl 😘

charles_leclerc ma belleeeeeeeeee

yourbsf Can I come

⤷ charles_leclerc Am I the best friend

⤷ yourbsf oh fuck you

charles_leclerc Your caption is funny, I love it

⤷ yn thanks sharlie 🥹🥹🥹❤️‍🩹

june 13, 2023

| yukitsunoda0511 has requested to follow you! 1h

| pierregasly has requested to follow you! 1h | landonorris has requested to follow you! 1h | carlossainz55 has requested to follow you! 1h

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you just accepted 7 requests

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 30 others

yn SOOO PROUD!!!! CHARLES CAME BACK AND IS NOW A WORLD CHAMPION IM SHAKING?! CONGRATS TO FERRARI ON BEING GETTING WORLD CONSTRUCTORS CHAMPIONSHIP AS WELL IM SHAKING

view all 59 comments

charles_leclerc Could not have done this without you, chérie

⤷ yn love u sm babyyyyy⛄️ im scared though why are half the grid following me back (i ofc accepted)

⤷ landonorris because he just ranted to us for TWO HOURS (he always does but for a few mins) about you and how amazing you are, mate! Had to see what the fuss was about

⤷ charles_leclerc Thanks, Lando.

⤷ yn IM GOING TO CRYYYY LOVEU SHARL

francisca.cgomez You’re such a beauty!!! Loved seeing you today💞 Congrats, Charles!

october 22, 2023

charles_leclerc

liked by yn, and 8,559,282 others

charles_leclerc Another post about the Championship but this time for the person beside me who motivated me the most. My beautiful girlfriend, @yn, you are my everything. I love you more than you love pasta❤️

view all 1,181,292 comments

yn good morning?????????????????? WHAT

yn YOU DID THISBALL YOURSELF IM SO PROUD OF YOU LFG

⤷ yn ball

⤷ yncha16 AHAHAHAHAH SHES SO SILLY

⤷ charles_leclerc Without you, I wouldn’t push myself! So technically, you helped. ⤷ yn id do it again ml

ynsbabe yn public when

⤷ yn when sharl learns how to cook pasta 👨‍🍳

⤷ charles_leclerc Goodluck @ynsbabe

october 23, 2023

#SOF : are we feelin a part 2 ??? #FUTURE SOF: pt2!

[coco-loco-nut]

Forza Red Bull

Pairing: Max x Best Friend Reader

Summary: You have a big decision to make, stick with Red Bull or move to Ferrari

A/n: changing when the driver's press conference is for the plot. Thanks for the request!! I loved writing this

requests open masterlist

_________

It is getting increasingly harder to hide your trips to the Ferrari motorhome, where you are negotiating a potential contract. Fred has been talking with you the latter half of the season, just waiting on a phone call from you, one that you are reluctant to take despite it being an offer you can't otherwise refuse.

Your contract ends after this season and Red Bull is waiting until after the season to offer you a new contract, despite them knowing your requests. To you, Red Bull’s waiting says everything. They aren’t confident in you, and they don’t want you.

Carlos is leaving the Ferrari team, having gotten a better seat elsewhere. Most F1 fans believe Ferrari will be signing Ollie Bearman or Arthur Leclerc.

"Y/n, it's a beautiful day for racing," Max wraps his arm around your shoulders, fresh from a workout. The hot Abu Dhabi air doesn't help the sweat.

"Ew, Max, get off of me, you smell," you gag for the added effect.

"I'm wounded, my own teammate and best friend?" Max places his hand over his heart.

"Go shower than we can talk. I stopped dealing with sweaty Max after karting," you shove him off of you. Max rolls his eyes, heading to shower while you beeline for coffee.

Your heart hurts while greeting the staff you have grown to love since you joined the team in 2021. Hannah sits down beside you.

"How are you feeling today?" she asks, handing you a pastry.

"Good, I think I have a shot at winning today, hopefully with your brilliant strategy I will," you smile hopefully, one that drops as you see her cringe a little.

"About that, Christian wants you to defend," Hannah tells you, you can feel the anger building. You have been so close to beating Max last year and the championship is just within your grasp, you need this win. You should've known better, you were brought onto the team for your ability to defend. She shouldn’t even be warning you about Christian’s strategy, but she has a soft spot for you as a friend.

"Hannah, please," your eyes beg her to give you the better strategy.

"I'm sorry, Y/n," she whispers, the one person on pit wall you thought that was on your side other than your race engineer. You swallow your pride and nod, looking away.

"Understood, I'll defend," you say after a second.

"You are a wonderful teammate and driver, Max is lucky to have you," her comforting words fall flat. Max. Your best friend and fiercest competition.

"I have to go to the press conference," you say, standing up and walking away.

"Y/n? Everything okay?" Pierre asks, you two weren't close, but you were a part of a group chat for drivers who are traumatized by Red Bull, one that you had often joked that you don't belong in. Now you know why Daniel added you.

"Red Bull," you huff angrily.

"I'm sorry," Pierre doesn't know why he's apologizing, but he can certainly empathize with you. The two of you walk to the conference together. You weren't close with Pierre, but you aren't enemies either.

You receive the first question of the conference.

"Y/n, you've been strong in free practice and qualifying. How are you feeling going into today, knowing that these are crucial points in your battle with your teammate, Max? Especially since you were in this position last year," the interviewer asks.

"Wow, starting off strong. Um, yeah, the car has felt great all weekend, I feel great going into today. It's always so much fun to race with Max, something I've had the privilege to do since we were karting together. Max got the win last year, so I hope I can secure it for myself this year," You say, hoping that satisfies the question. It does, at least until the journalists.

"How is Red Bull handling the driver situation, seeing that you and Max are both fighting for a championship," the journalist asks.

"Obviously the team wants us both to succeed, they will have a winner either way. I'm really glad to be with a team that supports both of us that way," you lie through your teeth, knowing that Christian wants Max to win. There is a reason that the Red Bull PR team loves you doing press conferences. You can feel Pierre, Carlos, and Daniel looking at you, knowing that you are likely lying, they just aren't sure which part.

"Good luck today, Y/n, if someone is going to beat me, I want it to be my best friend. If it isn't this year, I know you will take next year's Red Bull to the top," Max hugs you. Your anger dissolves for a moment, you aren't mad at him. He makes a great point, you already have a great relationship with Red Bull, you love it here, even if Christian makes you mad sometimes. Ferrari is, well, Ferrari. The car isn't as good and the strategy is lacking. You are smart, you know Red Bull is the better team, and Christian can't ignore your ability after this season.

"Thank you, Maxie. I hope you lose," he can't help but to laugh with you. You go into your driver's room to text your agent, letting them know which team you chose.

"Y/n, are you sure?" She asks over the phone, calling you immediately.

"I am," your agent agrees to let both teams know, only asking you to call her after the race.

You get ahead later in the race, wheel to wheel with Max as you battle for P1. You know Red Bull isn't going to show their hand that they want Max to win yet.

Y/n, let Max overtake

The instructions flow through your earpiece, you push harder.

No. Max can take the win from my cold dead hands. That's a team order, Y/n I don't give a shit. Tell Christrian and Hannah to fuck off.

Max is a bit confused why you aren't letting him pass, GP told him he was getting the overtake, but he respects you wanting to fight. You ignore your engineer trying to get you to follow team directions.

Y/n, I'm saying this as your friend, your race engineer for the past 3 years. Max has the faster pace, you have to let him pass before you end up in a crash

You hold back the tears in your eyes, as you watch Max slide in front of you, taking P1.

It's not fair. I know, keep fighting. We will get it next season. I will hold you to that. Red Bull owes me that much.

You keep your helmet on after the race, not letting the cameras see you cry. Max immediately finds you after weigh-ins.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry, I didn't know they were going to do that," Max says, pulling you into a hug.

"I knew. Hannah told me this morning," you do your best not to take your anger out on him.

"Why didn't you tell me? I would've fought for you, you're my best friend," Max asks, confused.

"I didn't want you to throw your race for me,"

"This isn't happening next year, I will make Christian understand that. You fought so hard for the win, you deserved it," Max tells you and you nod.

"I know, I'm negotiating it into my contract. I have to go pee and make it look like I wasn't crying. I'll see you in a minute," you tell Max, purposefully being ambiguous like you have the past couple months, going into the private bathroom to make the quick call, getting your phone from your assistant.

"You have the green light to announce your contract," she says before you hang up. You subtly give your phone back and head to the podium.

"That was one hell of a fight, is Red Bull mad at you for ignoring team orders, even though you did give up the spot?" You are asked after the podium by Sky Sports.

"Probably, not that it matters much now since it was the last race of the season," you shrug.

"You have yet to announce your contract renewal with Red Bull, will you be negotiating the team orders part?" Another asks.

"Yeah, I will be making sure any future contracts don't allow something like today to happen again. Red Bull has been waiting because of my salary increase. Which is why I will be joining Scuderia Ferrari next season," you say, dropping the bomb. You had been tempted to say Forza Ferrari over the team radio.

Max looks at you in disbelief and hurt. You don't comment after that, electing to leave the room and go back to your driver's room. Charles nods supportively at you, having been informed already about his new teammate.

"Y/n, open the door," you hear Max's voice on the other side a few minutes after you change.

"Max, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I made the decision minutes before the race," your voice cracks a little.

"How long have you been talking to them?"

"Since after summer break,"

"Damn it! Why didn't you tell me, I could've helped you," Max looks utterly broken.

"Because you needed to focus on your racing. Even if I stayed things would be good for a few races then they would go back to how they are now. Red Bull will always choose you. I'm not mad at you for it, please know that," you plead a little as Max pulls away from you.

"You knew you were changing teams for half of the season and didn't tell me. You are going to our rival. You are supposed to be my best friend,"

"I am your best friend, Maxie, I wasn't allowed to say anything,"

"Don't call me that, I can't be friends with someone who doesn't trust me," Max gets up and leaves.

"Max! Max, please come back," you cry, a hole in your heart. You leave the paddock discreetly and go back to your hotel room. Usually, you'd be celebrating with Max, but now you don't know what to do. There is a knock on your door, you hope it's Max,

Daniel, Pierre, Yuki, Carlos, and Alex stand at your door with wine, a cake that reads 'Fuck Red Bull' and another that reads 'The real WDC winner'.

"Max is a dickhead," Daniel offers as you let them into your room. Despite Daniel's good relationship with Christian, he knows right from wrong.

"Thanks, guys. How did you even get cakes like this last minute?" you say, happy to celebrate with them.

“It’s a secret,” Yuki smiles secretively.

"Sorry, Y/n, you deserved the win. I'm glad you are taking my seat at Ferrari," Carlos says, patting your shoulder.

"Let's get drunk, eat cake, then go to the club," Pierre suggests, a plan that you all quickly agree to. Yuki and Alex show you the massive support you are receiving online and the backlash Red Bull is getting. It is comforting, you just wish your best friend was here.

Twitter has a field day with the squad you roll up to the bars with, but they all ask the same question, where's Max. It takes until testing for you to comment on it.

"You shocked the world after announcing a move to Ferrari not long after being forced to lose the world championship. Any harsh feelings towards Max Verstappen following last year's drama?" you are asked right away.

"None. Other drivers might be mad or take it out on the track, but at the end of the day, it wasn't his call, it was Red Bulls. Obviously, it sucks to lose someone who was your best friend, but everything happens for a reason. I can't wait to drive equally with my teammate and have the Tifosi support," you say, catching Max watching you out of the corner of your eye. He is obviously still upset. You ignore him, he can find you when he is ready to apologize.

"If she had told me what she was planning on doing, maybe we would be friends still, but I can't be friends with people who lie to me and are traitors," Max says when asked for his opinion. Max only apologized after you won the season with Ferrari, you think it was because Charles and Daniel forced him to. You are just happy to have your friend back.

[lcriedlastnight]

Can you write something with Oscar where they hated each other during their childhood or teenage years, but they meet again during adulthood

hey anon! thank you so much for your request!

tw: fem!reader. swears, i feel it feels a little rushed but idk. not spell checked. lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1.9k

you and logan were the ‘duo’ during karting, f2 and f3. where ever you went, logan followed and vice versa. you both understanding each other on a different level than the others around you, just simply didn’t . others around you including: oscar piastri.

you knew fine well that oscar and logan got along well. at one point logan even told you that he thought of oscar as his best friend in racing. knowing all of this should’ve made you like him, but it didn’t. you didn’t know if it was the way he walked around the karting course, when you were children, like he owned the place or if it was the little niggle in the back of your mind that acknowledged how good of a racer he actually was and that just pissed you off even more, you didn’t know. all you knew is that he needed to be brought down a peg or two and you would happily be to one to do it forever, much to logan’s chagrin.

logan really wanted the both of you to get along but you couldn’t help yourself, especially when you were younger, you had to tell him exactly what you thought about him, any and every time he pissed you off.

sometimes you did feel bad about hating on the aussie, like the times where a race didn’t really go his way, but as soon as you would go over to commiserate him he’d shout at you and tell you to get out of his way. you stopped feeling bad about it after that.

this rivalry continued all the way through to when both boys made it to f1. maybe it even deepened further. any time the two of you bump into each other, the only words said (if any) were snarky comments and backhanded compliments. mainly from your end.

none of this stopped you from supporting one of your oldest friends though, any time you were able to you would join him in the williams paddock, usually the first one to run to him when the race ended bad for him.

the most recent time you had joined logan for a race weekend was australia. you had watched along during the free practise but afterwards logan seemed to be avoiding you. you had looked everywhere for him, wanting to do your usual ‘after free practise’ routine of dissing the rest of the drivers (especially oscar) and telling logan that he was the best driver on the grid.

you make your way through the paddock searching for him and you eventually find him in the mclaren motorhome, standing with none other than oscar piastri. you roll your eyes and walk up to the two of them but they’re both too deep in their conversation that they don’t hear you coming.

“you have to tell her, mate” oscar tells logan, brows furrowed. logan’s back is to you so you can’t see his reaction, but you do hear it.

“she’ll be crushed!” it comes out a breathy and high pitched.

“obviously she’ll be crushed but do you not think it’s better for her to hear it from you” oscar replies, his eyes gentle. it pisses you off. him saying all this as if he knows you and how you would feel about certain things. you decide to make your presence known.

“i think i trust logan’s opinion on whatever you two are talking about more than yours, piastri.” your voice is a little mean but there are hints of confusion and concern for logan.

logan spins in his spot to face you. his eyes are wide and his brows sit high on his forehead. “oh uh hi! we were just talking about… racing stuff?” logan’s mouth moves faster than you’ve ever seen before.

“racing stuff?” you repeat back, “are you asking me or telling me?”. it’s a half joke, half serious question. i give him a half smile but logan stands there, a little awkwardly.

i wait for a second before my smile falls again. “okay what? what is it?” you asked a little worried now. oscar stands behind him but you forget about him, getting worried about logan now.

“logan you better tell me right now or-” you start but he cuts you off.

“i’m not racing this weekend. alex’s crash fucked up his car and they’re giving mines to him for the rest of the weekend.” logan avoids your eyes, instead choosing to stare at the floor.

it takes a while for you to calm down afterwards. logan takes you somewhere more private than the mclaren motorhome where you let out your anger.

“why weren’t you going to tell me?” you ask him after you had calmed down.

“i didn’t want this to happen. i only really did it because oscar told me i should.” logan explained.

you sigh out. “well you can always tell me anything. we’ve been friends forever, logan. and i guess that was kinda nice of oscar to do that.” logan’s grin is too wide, it’s like he ignored the first part and just focused on the only nice thing you have ever said about oscar.

you roll your eyes and change the subject. “okay well i guess there’s no point in staying to watch the rest of the weekend.” logan gasps.

“well since you don’t want to stay with me, there might be a certain someone who asked for you to stay and watch.” his eyebrows wiggle teasingly. it annoys you to no end. you let him know by the long groan you let out.

that’s how you ended up watching qualifying from the mclaren garage. you were surprised oscar actually let you stay and watch in his garage, but all it took was a mere seconds conversation with logan and you were in.

although the previous qualifying had been a bit of a better result for the aussie he still practically skipped into the garage. the joys of doing well in the first part of your home race, you suspect.

“oh hey! i didn’t think you were actually gonna stay. i thought you and oscar hated each other?” lando asks after noticing you, kind of just standing there. you couldn’t be more thankful for his presence at that moment, feeling a little out of place in the papaya filled garage.

you give him a tight smile. “where did you get that from? we’re best friends.” your tone dripping with sarcasm. lando smirks with a half chuckle at your tone. before you could talk more, oscar comes up behind you.

“i knew i could get you to admit it one day.” he says to you. you can hear the happiness in his tone. this is the first time oscar has said something and it hasn’t made you want to rip his vocal cords from his throat.

“ha ha. aren’t you funny?”. lando rolls his eyes at your response before he stirs the pot.

“well i’ll leave you two to it. there’s too much tension here and it’s making the room a little stuffy.” he bounces out the garage, eager to catch up with his engineers.

you don’t know why but lando’s comment made the heat rush to your face. you hope oscar doesn’t notice. he probably does though. you are stuck on what to say and you don’t like just standing there staring at him because the more you look at him the more you like what you see, so you scramble your brain for something to say.

“thanks for telling logan to tell me about not driving this weekend.” is all you can come up with.

you can feel oscar’s confusion. “you’re welcome? is this your way of repaying me? by watching quali in my garage?” he asks. half joking.

“what no?” oscar laughs at your defensive tone.

“why are you here then?” he questions you. this then confuses you.

“logan said you wanted me to stay and watch?”.

oscar’s head dips down, eyes avoiding yours and hints of what you think is a faint blush on his cheeks.

“you didn’t want me to stay and watch?” you ask, feeling a little bold with your questions.

oscar is quick to correct you. “no i did. i said that to logan.”

“why did you even want me to stay? i thought you hated me?” you ask again, not getting tired of asking him all these questions. plus the blush made him look cute. cute for an ugly guy, you correct your own thoughts. the words that free you from spiralling confuse you more.

“i don’t hate you.”

what? he most certainly did hate you. you had year upon years of proof. possibly maybe even a decade worth of mean comments and dirty looks. what was he talking about?

your mouth opens and closes a few times as you try to find your words. “you.. you don’t hate me?”

oscar’s head is quick to shake.

“but what about all those times we argued? and all those horrible things you said to me?” you remind him. oscar acting like none of that ever happened was baffling you.

“don’t you remember how every single one of those arguments started?” he asks. it’s your turn to shake your head.

“i would always come over after races to talk to logan and of course you were there. i would go to ask logan about the race and you would interrupt me by saying something about ‘there being no need to rub my talent in his face’ or if logan had done better than me you would always say ‘he doesn’t talk to people who only want him when he’s a winner’. even if all i wanted was to let my frustrations out with my friend. you were mean too.” you’re stunned to silence.

you didn’t think anything you said to oscar was that mean. or even worth remembering. it wasn’t in your case, that’s how you can’t even remember saying any of it.

“oh” is all you can say.

“yeah, oh. even though you were horrible i still wanted to talk to you.” oscar admits, head held high, even though can see the way the confidence on his eyes falters a little.

you feel a wave of embarrassment wash over you at your actions. how could you ever hate someone who, even though they were being treated like shit, wanted to be friends to support their other friend?

“i’m sorry. that was so horrible of me. i honestly don’t know what else to say. i’m horrible.” you tell him. you wear your regret all over your face, clearly visible to oscar.

“you’re not.” oscar takes a step forward and hesitates for a second before he places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “you were just trying to protect you’re friend. you’re a good person. the only reason i wanted to keep talking to you was because i wanted you to defend me like that.”

the realisation hits you, you’re face softening even more. oscar liked you. maybe even still likes you.

“oh.”

oscar smiles a little. he’s spent years hearing every little detail about you from logan he feels like he knows you just as well as the american does.

“i’ve got to do some media stuff but why don’t we grab dinner or something afterwards?” oscar offers, you nod instantly, eager to know the boy as well as logan does.

“okay, yeah that sounds good.” you smile at the boy for maybe the first time ever.

oscar smiles back.

you hated being wrong but you didn’t mind being wrong about how nice oscar was.

[guardians-ofthe-lastyoungkilljoy]

i know the end - vettel

(gif not mine @usersewis)

pairing: sebastian vettel x reader

summary: Sebastian came into your life in 2015 and left in 2020 - but you fell in love with him and he just wanted a championship.

themes/warnings: alcohol, ANGST, no use of y/n, description of a panic attack, unrequited love, waxing poetic about ferrari - can you tell they're my fav team, kimi mentioned, charles is here too !! THIS IS FICTION

wc: 3.6k

a/n: someone on tumblr said that ferrari is a haunted house with a picket fence and i have never stopped thinking about it since. i have also never stopped thinking about sebastian vettel - subcategory of seb thoughts is seb in ferrari. also still open to do requests - trying out this whole fic writing thing. will also need help with organising my blog if anyone is keen :)

read on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/60713827

Sebastian joined Ferrari in 2015. The team were ecstatic to have the four time world champion join their ranks, determined to bring Ferrari back to its former glory. 

You were working on the strategy team, fairly new but established enough to be listened to on the rare occasion. 

You met Seb in the pre-season at his factory introduction. He made his speech, charming the floor with his near perfect Italian. He popped into the strategy meeting room during his tour, a war room that had become home for you with its laptops and papers spread out. Sebastian was the perfect gentleman, shaking hands with everyone, though you thought he may have held on a bit longer with you.

The season started soon after, the entire garage working overtime. You were given the opportunity to accompany the team at races, rather than being stuck at Maranello.This is how you became Sebastian’s favourite strategist. 

You’re not exactly sure when it happened. You made a good strategy call in Malaysia, a well timed pit stop in Hungary and by Singapore, the lion knew your coffee order from the Ferrari cafeteria, ensuring to always pass you some before a long meeting. 

Falling for Sebastian was drawn out, comprised of lingering greeting hugs, good conversation at team dinners, long nights at the factory and searing glances across foreign nightclubs. 

You didn’t realise it for a while, and you wouldn’t realise it until it was too late. The attention you received was perhaps just part of Seb’s charm, and he had the whole motorsport world wrapped around his infamous finger. 

2016 brought on a winless year for Ferrari, both Kimi and Sebastian unable to make it to that crucial top step. 

You found Seb at the back of the Ferrari motorhome after a particularly tough race, hiding between tyre stacks. You overheard his PR team scrambling to find him - you slipped out to the back unnoticed, knowing exactly where he was. 

The tyre stacks were sort of a shared place for you and Sebastian, free from the prying eyes of the world. The only person who knew about it was Sebastian’s head mechanic, who accidentally stumbled upon you two sharing champagne after a podium last year. 

I’ll be there soon. Sebastian recognised your footsteps before even looking up. 

You sat down beside him, trying to find the words while he absentmindedly played with his water bottle. 

I’m sorr-

I don’t want to hear it. 

Sebastian had never snapped at you. You knew the strategy calls were bad today, resulting in an ill timed pitstop and Sebastian falling through the other. This Seb, this was completely foreign to you. 

Seb stood and left, sparing no further glance at you. It was a punch to your gut. Did he blame you? Drivers were always temperamental, that you knew, but Sebastian had always been nothing but kind and mature with you. 

Your body went into autopilot mode, packing up what you can before the team debrief. 

Sebastian barely spared you a glance as everyone settled in for the debrief. Perhaps a sign that he calmed down during media duties, but you knew better than to play detective with another man’s emotions. 

Strategy seemed to be the biggest issue to tackle with your boss taking the lead. You half listened, taking notes occasionally until he mentioned your name. 

One of the plans you brought up in pre-race meetings was bold and daring. It was entertained, but ultimately shoved aside for what ended up happening during the race. However after witnessing what happened in the race, it would have gained the team some higher positions. 

Ferrari is a team, one where we win and lose together. Every aspect is just as important as each other. Admitting mistakes and learning for them is how the team gets stronger. 

The strategy admission had Sebastian sneaking glances at you for the rest of the meeting. You felt it, but you weren’t exactly ready to forgive yet. 

You returned to your home in Maranello without so much as another word to Sebastian. You were, however, greeted by a bouquet of peonies on your dining table, along with a note from the man you were so desperately trying not to think about.

By 7PM the same day, you and Seb were sharing a blanket on the couch and watching a romcom, having devoured pizza and now working your way through a giant bag of chocolate wafers. 

Unfortunately, Seb knew the way to your heart. As you tucked yourself into bed that night, you realised that you never shared a conversation with him about Sunday and an even scarier thought, you had forgiven him. 

2017 saw you and Sebastian grow even closer. Movie nights at your apartment became the norm and Seb often took you to dinner on race weekends, despite your protests that the dinners were too fancy. He had to spoil his favourite strategist would always be his response. 

Sebastian returned to the top step of Monaco that year, the Italian anthem blaring across the track along with a chorus of devoted Tifosi. He sneaked off after the celebrations, pulling you with him to the tyre stacks, champagne bottle on the other hand. 

Seb passed you the bottle and you took a large sip, pushing down the thought that his lips were on it mere moments ago. 

Are you coming to the afterparty?

Yes, but I don’t have anything to wear? 

No party dress packed? Ye of little faith. 

You rolled your eyes and shoved the bottle back into his hands. The endless banter and teasing simultaneously made you forget about your feelings for Seb but also made you fall harder for him. 

Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. He kissed your cheek and walked away. 

Cheek kisses weren’t new for Seb, having evolved from greeting hugs long ago. But “take care of it”? Well, he better not be doing what you were thinking. 

You returned to your hotel room to a large black box on your bed, an extravagant red bow tied around it with a handwritten note, definitely scrawled on by a tipsy Seb. 

The box revealed a red dress, and on top of it, another small box. You opened it and out dangled a small necklace with a heart charm. Engraved on one side was the number 5. Sebastian. 

Sebastian knocked on your door two hours later, dressed sharp and ready for the night ahead. He took you in, the dress he picked out was the perfect fit against your skin. There was however, one missing detail. 

The necklace? 

It’s a bit much, no?

Nonsense. 

Sebastian walked into your room and spotted the necklace on the bed. He took it out of its pouch and motioned for you to stand in front of the mirror. He stood behind, putting the necklace on you. His fingers ghosted over your neck, raising the tiny hairs on your skin. 

Team number 5. 

Sebastian kissed the side of your head and his fingers trailed down your arm to grab your hand. You followed him out in a daze to the elevator. 

The dim light of the elevator and Sebastian’s intoxicating cologne enveloping the cramped box. The elevator dinged, letting in more people. The sound woke you from whatever spell Sebastian cast. You counted down the floors until you had to leave the warmth of Sebastian’s side and his calloused hand around yours. 

Ground floor. The air was clearer as you exited the bubble - reality. Because despite everything, Sebastian wasn’t yours. He is Ferrari’s. You are Ferrari’s. For now, sharing a home would be enough. 

You never left Sebastian’s line of sight all night. Between partying with your girlfriends, sharing a drink with your boss and a few dances with Seb, the clarity in the haze of the club was Sebastian. 

As the night began winding down, Sebastian approached you at a booth. He was holding a mystery drink and his pupils were blown wide. He began blabbering about something Kimi did, the Finn possibly to blame for Sebastian’s current state. You took one look at him and began arranging a cab back to the hotel. 

You managed to drag a half asleep Sebastian back to his room. You sat him on the edge of the bed while you filled up a water bottle. You came back and found him spread eagle on the bed. At least he took his shoes off. 

Goodnight Seb. 

You were halfway out the room when you heard it. 

I love you.

You froze. Looking back, you saw Seb snoring peacefully, hugging a pillow to his chest. No, he’s drunk and sleeping. It wasn’t for you. It could’ve been for his bed for all you cared for. It didn’t matter, despite your heart wishing it was for you.

2018 was another successful year for Ferrari. Sebastian came home with five wins that year, placing second in the drivers standings and Kimi in third. All in all, you were quite proud of the team’s efforts that year and you knew you could unlock more of that potential. 

However, you could feel something bothering Sebastian. An itch that had been present all season. You had asked a few times, but Seb always insisted it was nothing. You knew Sebastian well enough by this point. You could read him, to an extent. But if he truly wanted to hide something, you would be helpless at getting it out. 

Sebastian invited you to stay at his farm in Switzerland for a week during the winter break. You happily obliged, having not seen him since wrapping up in Abu dhabi. You could use the tranquillity of farm life for a bit. 

Your days there were spent helping Sebastian with the animals. He taught you horse riding and you taught him baking. You let yourself get lost in that life, if just for a mere moment. Perhaps in some alternate universe, this was your home with him, that you weren’t only playing house for a week. 

You and Sebastian were laying on the carpet in front of the fireplace, sharing a bowl of attempted smores. It was your last night there before you had to jet off back to Maranello to begin pre season work. 

Seb got quiet, not exactly rare but it was different when something was on his mind. 

Would you ever leave? 

Leave where?

Ferrari.

No. Ferrari is home. 

Sebastian hummed, adding nothing more but deciding to bite into another smore. A bit of chocolate dripped onto his chin. You chuckled and wiped it off with your thumb.

Besides, you don’t need to worry about that new French kid. You’re still my favourite, world champion. 

Sebastian laughed, but you missed the melancholy in his eyes and the smile not quite reaching his eyes. 

Being a Tifosi came with many highs and lows - any balding Italian man can tell you that. It was felt even more within the team, especially for Sebastian this year. 

2019 saw the meteoric rise of Charles Leclerc, the predestined. He cemented his place as not only the future of Ferrari itself, but of the sport as well. 

Charles was full of energy and light. You grew fond of the kid and it was nice to have his company amidst the turmoil surrounding the team that year. 

You went into that year determined to get Sebastian his championship he so desperately craved. You were instead met by cheating rumours, bad calls, power shifting and well, an increasingly frustrated Sebastian. 

Sebastian who has been chasing that championship feeling for years. Sebastian who bleeds Ferrari red. Sebastian who is determined to bring the team back to the top. Sebastian, who is not quite yours, but you devoted your red heart to. 

Perhaps that’s how you ended up in this position. 

Sebastian pulled you into his driver’s room after a race. The habit has raised a few eyebrows from passing crew, but none have said a word. 

Nothing ever happened anyways. 

Seb would sit you on his couch and you’d listen. Listen as he rambled in a heinous mix of German, Italian and English. Listen as he let out his emotions after a race and all the lows he went through that weekend. 

You’d bring up some of these points to relevant crew members. It would be worked on and by the following race, it would be better. But it was never enough for Sebastian. 

You understood, he was supposed to bring Ferrari back, follow in the footsteps of his mentor and hero. It was an immense pressure and responsibility that has been carried for years. Now, the Italians have put their faith in his teammate, throwing him aside like an old toy. 

It was draining for you too, being subjected to this almost every weekend. It wasn’t your burden to bear, but this was Sebastian. He is still Rosso Corsa, and you weren’t one to deny a cry for help. 

Singapore rolled around, one of Sebastian’s favourites. He crossed the line in first place that night. You haven’t been so happy in months. 

Sebastian found you at your desk after media duties. You were still on the adrenaline high, but the tiredness began seeping back into your bones. You knew you weren’t sleeping well, the stress of the season getting to you and your eyes looked darker than ever. For Ferrari, the pain was always worth it. 

Come out tonight. 

Seb, I feel dead. 

And the race winner is personally inviting you. 

You could never resist him, which is how you have an extremely plastered Seb on your arm as you walk back to the hotel. Apparently being part of Team 5 also meant babysitting when he’s had one too many. 

I LOVE FERRARI! I NEVER WANT TO LEAVE! FORZA FERRARI! 

Sempre. 

May 2020. F1 was still on the break. The only place you went was your home in Maranello and occasionally the factory. You hadn’t seen Sebastian in months and to be honest, you haven’t heard from him as much as you wanted to. 

Then, the announcement. Sebastian Vettel to leave Ferrari by the end of the 2020 season. 

It came as a shock to you. Seb’s contract was up for renewal, you knew that. But he never said anything about leaving, at least, not to your face. And to find out from Instagram, rather than from the man himself, that was a whole other issue. 

You left several messages on Seb’s number over the next week, all remained unanswered. You knew he was a bit of a recluse sometimes, preferring quiet company over the glitz and glamour other drivers seemed to surround themselves with. Ignoring you however, that was unheard of. 

You asked some of Seb’s mechanics, but none have heard from him. You even asked Charles, but all he received was a polite thank you message. 

After a while, you gave up on contacting him. You knew better than to beg for a man’s attention, even Sebastian’s. It broke your heart to walk away, but you had to keep pushing and Ferrari needed to keep pushing. 

Red Bull Ring, Austria. The first race back was a much quieter environment than what you’ve been used to. Despite wanting to stay in Maranello, mainly to stay safe but also to avoid a certain German, your boss wanted you at the races. Who were you to deny the call of the Prancing Horse. 

You ignored him all weekend, refusing to make eye contact or be in his general presence at all. It was perhaps a bit petty, but you deserved to be after the last two months. 

Charles placed P2, a great result from the team for the first race back. You chatted to him at your desk after the race. Charles was a young man that had raw talent, immense passion and was wise beyond his years. You were lucky to call him a friend. 

Mid conversation, Charles glanced behind you. You knew exactly who was standing there, but he could wait his turn. 

You finished up with Charles, giving him a hug before he left. 

You stared at Seb standing awkwardly in the doorway. He shifted on his feet, for once not knowing what to say to you. 

Please say something. 

I have nothing to say to you. You’re the one who went radio silent for months. 

I’m sorry. 

You shook your head and looked away, not wanting him to see how much this affected you. 

I didn’t know how to tell you. 

Seb moved closer, stepping into your space. He reached out a shaky hand to yours. You gripped his, you couldn’t help it. A silent sob escaped your body. 

Come with me. 

You whipped around, searching his pleading eyes. 

Come with me. To Aston Martin. 

His other hand came up to the side of your head, cupping your cheeks and wiping away the tears on your cheek. 

Come with me. I need you. 

His hand brushed down the side of your neck, fingers finding the necklace he gifted all those years ago. 

Team 5. That’s our home. Please. 

Sebastian fiddled with the charm. He found the engraved 5 turned around, no longer facing outward like how you’ve always worn it. 

You took Sebastian’s hand and pressed a tender kiss to it. 

Ferrari is my home. I can’t come with you. 

You dropped his hand and looked anywhere else but him. You couldn’t bear to see the tears welling in his eyes. 

Please leave. 

Sebastian walked out, hesitating at the door. He took a last look at you and left. 

You let the cries come out. Every emotion you’ve kept the last few years came out in a tidal wave. 

You felt an arm wrapping around your shoulders, recognising Charles’ hand. He helped you to the floor and let you lean against him. 

I’m sorry. 

You requested to be transferred to Maranello for the rest of the season, citing health concerns. The team was sad to see you go, many of them enjoying your company on long race weekends. 

You only saw Sebastian in passing for the rest of the year, heard about him from mechanics, through strategy feedback and once from Charles. He knew not to press, but you didn’t miss the occasional flicker of sympathy from his eyes. 

Sebastian came by the factory after the season ended, a formal goodbye to Ferrari. There was food and drinks passed around and some quick speeches made. 

Sebastian was the last to come forward. 

It has been my dream to race for the Scuderia since I was a boy. Here I stand now, as a Ferrari driver for six incredible seasons. It still feels like cloud nine everytime I get to walk into this beautiful place and be greeted by the passion from every single one of you. I thank you all for the hard work you’ve put in all these years. 

Sebastian took a breath, as if hesitating on what to say next. You found yourself waiting, a small part of you hoping for him to say something, anything that would allow you to forgive him. 

I want to say a special thank you to those who have been by my side. You know who you are. I know I haven’t always made it easy, and I am sorry for that. But I am eternally grateful for you. 

Sebastian’s eyes found yours in the crowd. You found yourself fiddling with the necklace for comfort, forcing your eyes to hold back tears. 

Thank you all. Forza Ferrari sempre. 

The crowd erupted in cheers, applauding Seb as he made his way back into the crowd. 

Your ears were ringing, vision blurry and the swell of the crowd was suddenly too much. Your feet relief on instinct, turning you around and leading you towards the exit. 

A hand found your arm as you reached the lobby. Charles. The youngster took one look at you and said something about a car and to wait. Your body curled into a ball as you heaved. 

This was it. Sebastian was leaving. Leaving Ferrari and the home you built in it, with him. And neither of you could muster the courage for a proper goodbye. What an irony, Ferrari who creates heroes and legends but two of their best and brightest are cowards with each other. 

A sleek black Ferrari pulled up to the front. The rumble of the engine was enough to push yourself to stand and stumble your way to Charles who had opened the door for you. 

You turned, taking a look at the building. Ferrari is always going to be home, but the people in it give it meaning. Sebastian left, and your sun set, but it will rise again soon. 

You were at the door and hesitated for the briefest moment. That was enough for Sebastian to come running into the lobby. 

You stood in the moonlight with windswept hair and teary eyes. From the distance, Sebastian could just make out the glimmer of the necklace he gave you all those years ago and the most important thought - you were still the most beautiful woman he ever got the chance to know. 

He loved you. Loves you. It was real all along, not some drunken stupor that he convinced himself it was all those years ago, hiding because it would be easier than to let himself fall. 

He understood. You were always by his side, and he was too late to notice it, much less be grateful for it. You can't forgive him now, and he’s caused too much harm. It would be selfish of him to keep you tethered.  

 He needs to let you go. 

Sebastian nodded at you from his frozen place in the lobby. This is the end. You touched your hand to your heart, where your necklace fell. In another life. 

[astonmartingf]

NOT MY FAULT ; FA14

dbf!fernando alonso x ex-red bull engineer! reader . . . if there are many fish in the ocean then fernando alonso is a catch, and it's not your fault if you fell for his hook, line, and sinker.

amgf a lot of appearances from other drivers, an actual plot! allusions to toxic work environment, red bull drama, the math is not mathing but okay. enjoy!!! thank you for still being here pwahaha it's been a while lbh but i hope you enjoy it like always!!!! wchagt update soon along with other wips <3

The only good thing that came out of your mother remarrying was the new found relationship you built with your step father, granted it took a while to get there- you first met him he was twice your age and dating your mother. Growing up you spent your formative years in the Red Bull garage answering math equations with Adrian Newey behind you, Sebastian Vettel laughing as Newey hands you a different worksheet after another.

It was an unusual dynamic, you mother 13 years older than your stepfather, being friends with your stepfather’s rival and teammate, it was unlike any other, but something you wouldn’t replace for the world. 

“Is it true you’re leaving Red Bull?” You were greeted with an over enthusiastic Oscar Piastri as you visited the McLaren motorhome using Mark’s pass. Your lip presses into a thin line, brows raised with a shrug from both shoulders leaving the younger groaning in frustration.

“I’m taking your silence as admission, also entering a McLaren motorhome on a race weekend? Seems like they finally fired you, it’s giving jobless.”

You roll your eyes, “This is a motorhome Osc, not your garage, I doubt they’d be hiding any of your data here, not like they’re secrets to me. Also they didn’t fire me, technically I was the one firing them since I will be leaving the team.”

“So you are leaving Red Bull.” Oscar deadpans, while you hiss as your tongue slipped faster than the thoughts in your head. You just promised yourself you won’t tell anything to anyone before you discussed it with your stepfather. 

Arms crossed to your chest, you face Oscar with the biggest smirk plastered on his face, proud for taunting you out on revealing your plans for the next seasons. “Well now that you know, I personally would like it if you kept your mouth shut. Mark doesn’t know yet and I plan to tell him before finalizing the contracts.”

Raising his hands with a small nod, Oscar moves leading the way to his quarters where you find your stepfather. “You’re free?” Mark looks up from the files in front of him glancing back and forth from you and Oscar. “Are you two in trouble?” 

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes, “No, why do you immediately think that? I for one am responsible, as for Oscar he can handle himself and no, we are not in trouble. I need your help.”

Just hearing the four words leaving from you, Mark closed the folders in front of him grabbing his keys, standing up. “Where do you want to go?”

It’s been known that the team principal has a preference for Daniel Ricciardo, the same can be said for Helmut with Yuki and Max, but for Newey it was you. Everyone in the team was well aware of your relationship, Newey taught you everything you knew about engineering and cars.

News of you leaving Red Bull wasn’t broadcasted on any social platform as you wanted to quit the team quietly, not bound to any long term contacts, yet within the team, your move was associated with Newey’s future whereabouts as whispers of him leaving Red Bull increased as the days went by. “You didn’t tell me you’re leaving Red Bull.” 

In front of you sat Newey, bringing forth a cup of coffee and the waffles you ordered prior. “You didn’t tell me you were leaving as well.” You scrunch your nose, whispering touché under your breath before taking a sip of coffee. 

“So, I’m assuming you told your father. Why did you leave?” You take a stab of the waffles, mulling over your conversation with Mark last week. “I told him what happened of course. You know why I left, it’s because of him. Well, partially. Everything was just slowly building up you know, they pushed me to the corner, I left. Simple as that. Mine’s boring, tell me yours. Why’d you leave?”

You felt Newey’s heavy stare into yours, “I heard what he told you, after that I left hoping to convince you to leave but you’ve surprised me once again.” Blinking, you put down the forkful of waffles in shock. Studying his demeanor, Newey continued taking bites of his club sandwich as if he didn’t drop the biggest revelation in front of you.

“You know you’re contractually not allowed to poach anyone right?” Newey rubs the crumbs off of his hands glancing at you with an incredulous look on his face. “I thought you knew me better than anyone, people always assumed I put Max in my clause. He’s a big guy who can handle himself, I put your name in. If I were to leave, I could take you from me. You know Horner said something along the lines of that when I ended my contract one year earlier. He asked about you- if you convinced me to leave. I told him you’re smarter than that, then I- are you crying?”

You raise your hand to your cheeks, wiping the tears you didn’t notice were falling off. “I just thought you’d stay there, and of course I would 100 percent support you wherever you went, I didn’t think you’d stick up for me when I left.” Now you were just full on bawling in front of him, early morning in a semi-busy cafe on a Friday morning. 

Newey laughs at you, throwing a napkin at your face. “I hope you’re ready to receive love calls for the next few days, we’ll be looking for some new prospects.”

You know time is of the essence, and when Newey advised you to keep an eye out for calls, you didn’t think they’d be calling you in the early mornings. Maybe it’s timezone differentiation but with the calls you’ve been getting for the last months have been more than alarming. A groan leaves your lips, before glancing over a familiar contact photo.

“Are you coming to China?” “It doesn’t seem like I have a choice now does it? Sounds like you want me to go now.” You hear movement from the other side of the line, “Yes, we’re stopping by to pick you up, get ready in 30 minutes.” “30 minutes? Am I not given time to prepare?” “Just bring yourself, if you’re worried you can use my money to buy whatever you need.” You scoff, jumping out of bed. “Just because I’m unemployed doesn’t mean I’m broke.” 

“Are you sure you want to pay?” 

“Hell no, I thought unemployment meant time for myself, didn’t think I would have to wake up at 4 AM catching flights to the Chinese Grand Prix.” You hear Mark’s laughter from the other side of the phone. “You better start getting ready, I’m on my way.”

“Never thought I’d see you sell me to another team. I thought I was sitting with you in the McLaren garage?” You explain to your stepfather as he walked with you to the Aston Martin garage.

Mark shook his head from your antics, “It’s a favor for a friend, you know to learn and see the company and team… it might make you enthusiastic to join.” You raise your brows listening to him sell the idea. “Are you not poaching me to join McLaren? Or are you worried about nepotism?”

Mark raised his hands to his face, panicking at the mention of nepotism right in front the Aston Martin garage, glancing around before shaking his head in disapproval while you’re giggling as he fusses over you. “I know you’re old enough to do this but please behave yourself, I just want you to see for yourself and not just because my friend asked for a favor, but I hope you enjoy yourself. I doubt McLaren is having any issues but if they wanted you, they would have to talk to you themselves instead of beating around the bush from me.”

You smile to yourself, “What about Aston Martin? What’s so different? And this favor from your friend, you must be really close with them, you’re offering my time so easily.”

“Fernando personally asked me to invite you.” You raise your brows glancing at the mechanic working on his car, “He couldn’t do it himself huh… Okay. I guess he had to go through such lengths seeing as he’s using you to invite me.” You take the ID Mark prepared for you, your name embossed with Fernando Alonso’s Guest below.

Your eyes wander around the green walls of their garage, you envision yourself in a dark green uniform, sitting on one of the pit lane garages looking over data. When Newey told you to prepare for new prospects you began looking around different teams, McLaren first and foremost due to Mark being involved, dabbling in offers from Mercedes and Williams, even from the junior Red Bull team which you immediately turned down, not wanting to be associated with the team any further. 

The news of Newey leaving hasn’t left the confines of Red Bull, despite Newey mentioning you as the reason he left, you don’t believe it’s the whole truth. You could be a partial reason, but there are many more underlying reasons behind his leave, especially to him who spent almost 20 years with the team, Newey leaving came as a shocker even to you, but what you’re waiting for is his future plans. 

You watch Mark slowly disappear from your sight, leaving you alone and for the first time in the 20 years of your life you felt exactly that. No one would have prepared you for what happened in the last two months of your life all leading to you leaving the first team you joined and spent your childhood in.

Sending a message to the only person you knew who spent his time in both Red Bull and Aston Martin garages, your phone rings as Sebastian calls you instead of answering your message. “Fernando invited you to the Aston Martin garage?” You stand from your seat to a quiet corner in the garage, away from the hustle and bustle, but more for your privacy. 

You rather no one listen to you talking about one of their drivers in his garage. “He asked Mark for a favor apparently, I was whisked away from my apartment to come here in China, now I’m in his garage, only for qualifying though so that’s that I guess.” The silence on the other side starts to make you question your own response.

“That's not the reaction I was hoping for. That’s that? That’s it? Where is the energy?” You roll your eyes at his implicating tone.

“It left the moment I got unemployed.” Sebastian laughs on the other side of the line, “Sounds like he’s trying to promote you as an elite employee.”

“Where the fuck are you learning these from? It’s so unlike you, has retirement made you younger?” You shout at your phone appalled by the words you never once thought would leave his mouth. “I kid, I kid. But you know what I think that message was?”

You sigh, trying to ignore the clammy feeling of your palms as you inch the phone higher to your ear, “I think that was a call for help. All those years of denial haven't changed? I’ll say this, green doesn’t look like a good color on you.”

“Fuck you Seb, calling you was a mistake.” Pressing the button furiously, you end the call. It’s funny how Sebastian always knows how to get on your nerves, maybe you were somewhat similar to your stepfather. That, or Sebastian is easily a mischievous prick who you’re unfortunately friends with and one of the only people who knew about your little something with a certain driver in the grid.

Your phone chimes, a reply from Seb, “I hope you get uncomfortable in his garage while you think back to your escapades in Barcelona, in the summer of 2019.”

It’s not your fault that of all the men available on the face of the earth, your eyes linger a little longer on Fernando Alonso, even if he is your step father’s friend he is hot, is he not?

[santanasaintmendes]

new york, concrete jungle where dreams are made of

part3! to the cosmic girl records 

¡Cosmic Girl Records!

summary: graduation day! and having the grid in the city for the US GP makes the day 1000x better 

olliebearman x reader & platonic!grid x reader 

fc!: gorgeous girls and couples on pinterest all credits go to rightful owners of the photos used below 

a/n: thank you for everyone who’s shown love to part 1 and 2 of the cosmic girl records!

disclaimer!: there are sensitive jokes that are used in this smau that may be offensive to some people they are all purely used to make the story more humorous. if you have any problems with the jokes that are used please feel free to message me and i will do my best to make sure everyone is happy, thank you!

tg!: swearing, sensitive jokes, carlos and y/n bully lando, if there are any other ones let me know!

wordcount: 1.5k ?

enjoy and i hope it makes you smile/laugh!

liked by olliebearman, bestie1, georgerussell64, lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux and 4,583,483 others

unfortunatelyy/n: hey upper east siders, 2 days down, 3 to go and im thinkin’. . . more coffee ☕️

view 2,483,322 comments 

 bestie1: I BELIEVE IN US 💪

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 unfortunatelyy/n: i wish i had the brain capacity to 😮‍💨

 user1: wait so now that she’s graduating does that mean no more aesthetic studying vlogs and pics 😨

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 user2: hopefully instead we’ll have photos from inside one of the f1 motorhomes instead 🙏

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 user3: hoping, manifesting and praying 🙏 

user12: the last pic hits hard 😭

 olliebearman: can’t wait to see you this weekend 🥰

 liked by unfortunatelyy/n 

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 georgerussell64: get a room geez 🙄 

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 unfortunatelyy/n: @carmenmmundt get your child off instagram 

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georgerussell64: HEY

 user4: just when I thought y/n couldn’t get any  more relatable she goes and drops this on us 

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 user12: real. 

user5: the fits go hard 💪

liked by unfortunatelyy/n 

 alexandrasaintmleux: more coffee and like 45+ hours of sleep, am i right?

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 unfortunatelyy/n: FINALLY SOMEONE GETS IT 

 user5: what’s she studying?

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 user6: she’s been studying mechanical engineering for the last couple of years, she did karting as a kid and met lando when she lived in England that’s why she’s good friends with them all but she decided to stop karting and pursue mechanical engineering in school 

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 user7: we love hot smart girls 😍

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

 user8: any idea why lando hasn’t been very active on insta lately?

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 user9: maybe he’s busy 

 user10: Y/N A FAN OF GOSSIP GIRL CONFIRMED???

 liked by unfortunatelyy/n

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 user11: not her liking the comment, she’s so real for that 

liked by olliebearman, lilymhe, alex_albon, charles_leclerc, kimi.antonelli, arthur_leclerc and 5,583,483 others 

unfortunatelyy/n: i think. . . i’d step on a lego for you

tagged olliebearman 

 olliebearman: wow, i’m honoured 🥹

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 unfortunatelyy/n: damn straight you are those things hurt like hell 

user1: LEGO FLOWER DATES ARE U JOKING I WOULD DIE 

user2: y/n’s really out here living the life we only dream of 😣

 kimi.antonelli: good job Bearman, i told you it would work 

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 olliebearman: ???? 

 user3: it’s not only me who’s looking at ollie’s arms in the last pic right?

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 unfortunatelyy/n: nope 🤭 

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 user4: HELP MOSQUITO Y/N CONFIRMED???

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 olliebearman: 🤨 

 arthur_leclerc: lego dates, i wish i would’ve thought of that first, if i do it now carla will say i’m copying you 😔

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 olliebearman: sorry man 😔

 user5: guys, any ideas why the 2019 rookies are being less active in y/n’s insta comments 

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 user6: it's not their job you know 

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 user5: yeah i know but it’s still weird right??

lilymhe: STOP STEALING HER FROM ME 😡 @olliebearman

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 alex_albon: I’m right here???

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 unfortunatelyy/n: your point being?

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 alex_albon: oh i hate you 

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 unfortunatelyy/n: grab a ticket and get in line 

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 user8: DAMN POP OFF GIRL 

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 user9: she cooked him 

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 user10: ate and left no crumbs we stan a queen fr

liked by olliebearman, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, georgerussell64, alex_albon, lilymhe and 11,482,973 others 

unfortunatelyy/n: ya snooze ya lose. it’s called defeat, Norris. 

tagged landonorris

view 72,492 comments 

user1: SHE PLAYS CHESS TOO ARE U JOKING 😍

user13: welcome back miss relatable 

user14: im sorry but lando doesn’t stand A CHANCE against y/n 

liked by unfortunatelyy/n 

user15: LANDO’S BACKKKK 

 user2: YES GIRL BEAT HIS ASS 🗣️

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 user3: poor lando 😭

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 user4: there are two types of people:

 user5: i did it. i manifested lando and HE’S BACK IN Y/N’s INSTA 

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 user6: sum goofy ass future telling shit fr 

 landonorris: i let you win on purpose

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 unfortunatelyy/n: OH so you WEREN’T crying and begging for mercy when i was going to win against you for the 5th time? 

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 landonorris:  . . . yes.

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 unfortunatelyy/n: hmmm 🤔

user11: don’t believe him he’s a liar y/n 🗣️🗣️

 carlossainz55: @unfortunatelyy/n how many times did you win against him

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 unfortunatelyy/n: 8 times 😄

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 user7: in conclusion: lando sucks at chess 

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 carlossainz55: very good. i taught you well

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 user12: CARLOS TAUGHT Y/N CHESS?

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 user15: they’re best friends your honour 

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 carlossainz55: @landonorris i see you have not improved 

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 user8: i just KNOW y/n and carlos love to roast lando together every weekend 

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 landonorris: YOU GUYS SUCK 

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 unfortunatelyy/n: and you good sir, suck at chess 

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 user9: sorry lando but HAHAHAHA

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 landonorris:@unfortunatelyy/n  i’m blocking you. 

user10: i bet y/n especially asks lando to play chess just to win against him

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

liked by olliebearman, landonorris, bestie1, lilymhe, georgerussel64, alex_albon, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, lewishamilton and 8,822,329 others 

unfortunatelyy/n: it all paid off in the end, how did I do it? That’s a secret I’ll never tell, XOXO gossip girl 

tagged bestie1

olliebearman: so proud of you ❤️

liked by unfortunatelyy/n 

user1: the gossip girl references my heart can’t take it, i’m so proud of her 🥹

 user11: SHES GORGEOUS 😍 Ollie better know how to fight 

| 

 olliebearman: 😅

bestie2: CONGRATULATIONS GORGEOUS 😘

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

bestie1: no more 3am late nights studying?? 😦

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

 landonorris: guess i’ll be seeing you next year alongside the ENEMIES 

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 user2: LANDO WHAT

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 user3: GIVE US ANSWERS DON’T LEAVE US HANGING GODDAMMIT 

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 unfortunatelyy/n: can’t keep a secret to save your life can you? 🙄

 mercedesamgf1: can’t wait to have you on the team next year y/n!

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 user4: OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG 

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 user5: SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP ALL AT ONCE 

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 user13: ARE U FOR REAL

 charles_leclerc: congratulations traitor!

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 unfortunatelyy/n: thank you ferrari’s sacrificial lamb

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 charles_leclerc: I-

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 user6: bro’s speechless 

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 charles_leclerc: why would you choose mercedes? we could’ve been world champions y/n 😔

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 user14: HELP 

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 unfortunatelyy/n: with your driving? i think not. 

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 user7: oop 

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 user8: dang that must’ve hurt 

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 charles_leclerc: I take it back. SUFFER WITH MERCEDES 

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 user9: i just know his PR team is going insane right now 

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 unfortunatelyy/n: whatever you say baguette boy 

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 user11: oh she went there 

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 charles_leclerc: oh you’re a little shi-

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 unfortunatelyy/n: FINISH THAT SENTENCE I DARE YOU 

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 charles_leclerc: I HOPE BOTH SIDES OF YOUR PILLOW ARE WARM TONIGHT AND THAT YOU RUN OUT OF MILK JUST WHEN YOU WANT TO EAT CEREAL 

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 unfortunatelyy/n: OH I HATE YOU 

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 mercedesamgf1: . . . note to self: don’t EVER get into a fight with Y/N 😅

user10: new thing to look forward to next season: charles and y/n beefing with one another 

 georgerussell64: you chose well, welcome to the dark side 😌

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 unfortunatelyy/n: thanks. . .?

 lewishamilton: congratulations y/n!

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 unfortunatelyy/n: thank you lewis! finally a normal comment 

landonorris: honestly and all jokes aside, i’m so proud of how far you’ve come from being that annoying little shit who followed me around all the time to a smart and somewhat kind girl, can’t wait to celebrate tonight 🥳

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 unfortunatelyy/n: screenshotted, i’m going to hang this over your head for the rest of your life norris 

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 landonorris: dang it. 

liked by lilymhe, olliebearman, carmenmmundt, alexandrasaintmleux, arthur_leclerc and 23,383,938 others 

unfortunatelyy/n: thanks for the memories xx 

tagged olliebearman, georgerussell64, landonorris, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 18 others 

 maxverstappen1: DELETE THAT RIGHT NOW 

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 unfortunatelyy/n: no. 🫶

 carlossainz55: i look good, no? 

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 unfortunatelyy/n: whatever floats your boat man 

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 unfortunatelyy/n: someone tell him he looks like he’s on crack 

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 carlossainz55: 😨

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 unfortunatelyy/n: 🫢 

user1: i just know yuki and pierre were pouring their whole heart and soul into the song 

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

 georgerussell64: let me just say, alonso and i tore up that dancefloor 

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 unfortunatelyy/n: alonso yes, you no. 

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 georgerussell64: damn ok 😔

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 unfortunatelyy/n: no backchat? are you feeling okay? 

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 georgerussell64: I WAS TRYING TO BE NICE TO YOU FOR ONCE 

user2: i think i’m going to cry, they all love her sm 

user3: is this why they were so absent on her recent posts, were they planning all of this 🥹

user4: DON’T TALK TO ME. i’m in my feels rn

user8: THEY ALL WENT TO HER GRADUATION ARE U JOKING

 landonorris: “thank you lando for planning this, i will be your servant for the rest of your life” 

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 unfortunatelyy/n: YOU NEARLY RAN OVER MY BOYFRIEND I THINK NOT 

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 user5: HELP WHAT

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 user8: CONTEXT PEOPLE WE NEED CONTEXT  

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 landonorris: IT WAS AN ACCIDENT 

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 unfortunatelyy/n: “iT wAs aN acCiDeNt” BE QUIET YOU DIDN’T EVEN REALISE UNTIL AFTER I HAD TO JUMP IN AND SAVE HIM 

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 landonorris: OKAY FINE U MANIAC

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 unfortunatelyy/n: WHAT DID U JUST CALL ME 

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 landonorris: . . .and for legal reasons that’s a joke 

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 landonorris: @olliebearman help me man, i’ll let you past this weekend 🙏

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 olliebearman: you want me to help you after you tried to kill me? 

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 landonorris: well if you say it like that it sounds bad

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 olliebearman: YOU NEARLY BACKED INTO ME WITH YOUR MCLAREN 

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 landonorris: IT WAS AN ACCIDENT

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 olliebearman: “iT wAs aN acCiDeNt” 

user6: ollie and y/n truly belong together, look at them bullying lando. i feel like a proud mother

 charles_leclerc: i’m sorry for my past actions y/n please never embarrass me on your instagram 🙏

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 unfortunatelyy/m: apology NOT accepted 

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 charles_leclerc: PLEASE 

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 unfortunatelyy/n: no. 

user7: charles leclerc’s worst enemy: ferrari ❌ y/n ✅

a/n: thank you for reading! Have an awesome day lovely 🫶🏻

[papaya-twinks]

It's me again (the anon who asked for the Short fic of Lando) 🤠🤠🤠

I'll identify myself as Lia (I don't post openly because I'm embarrassed, but I already consider us great friends ❤️ haha)

About a sequel to this story, I can only say "YES PLEASE" (I would ask anyway 😂)

I was thinking that for the reader's first victory, Lando would be amazed by her beauty on the podium, after taking a champagne bath, her golden glow after the victory etc. And that will make him crazy and very horny for the reader. However, our reader is keen to play with Lando. she will "run away" from him all day claiming to have meetings with the team after the race and at night, despite them being together at the same party, she makes a point of not talking to him and always being involved in a group with more than one person so he can't talk dirty to her or something.

This makes Lando even more thirsty for her but they only manage to have a moment alone in the elevator, returning to the hotel room. Lando wants to punish (not with violence) her and please her at the same time for being so stubborn during the day and so beautiful and seductive, so he gives the reader multiple orgasms with his fingers and mouth. The reader even thinks that she won't be able to get to the part where he uses his member, but she does, and OMG it's the best sexual experience of her life.

That's what I thought for a second part 🤭. I apologize for the length of the text and for any mistakes, I'm Brazilian and not very good with English. (Feel free to change anything if you're not comfortable writing about something I sent).

Eagerly awaiting the continuation 🫶🏻✨

Warnings: Smut, 18+, teasing, kinda breeding

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - firstly I don’t judge requests <3, but also, I’ve heard of someone else on here called Lia. Are you alright with messaging me or something? Also making part 2

Lando’s words rang out in your ears for ages afterwards. What happens after you win a race. It was like motivation, a fuel of some sorts, driving you forwards to win. Which is exactly what you did the following week. “And Y/N Y/L/N has won her first Grand Prix here in Canada!” the commentator yelled as you screamed and cheered through the radio. 

As you thanked the team, all you could think about were Lando’s words. “Wow, Y/N,” the interviewer smiled, “what a victory! So close to Lando,”. You smiled at the words, “Yeah, Lando was really close, it was hard keeping him off,” you laughed, “but yeah, a win’s a win,”. Lando congratulated, evidently impressed, his hug lingering a little longer than usual. 

“And in first, Y/N Y/L/N!” you ran onto the podium, beaming as you locked eyes with Lando on his second place step. “Well done,” he whispered as the anthems begun. You held the trophy aloft, Lando’s eyes tracing your movements like his life depended on it, his own trophy limo at his side as he watched you. And the podium music began, Lando was his signature bottle slam, as he immediately sent the spray to you. 

You shrieked, feeling the bubbly liquid coat you, your skin radiating with the golden glow. Lando had to physically restrain himself from falling to his knees right then. You were gorgeous. Oh what he’d give to just bend you over right then and there. “Remember our promise?” he said, subtly whispering into your ear as you took the podium picture. “Might do,” you shrugged, a small smile on your face. 

“Team debrief,” you said, following the man who collected the trophy as Lando watched you, disappointment etched on his face. “After,” he said. And when the debrief finished, you told him you had another PR meeting. “Done, finally?” Lando asked, seeing you emerge from your motorhome.  “Mhm,” you nodded, pressing a kiss to his neck, “oh, wait, I have another meeting,” you said, blinking innocently at him as he groaned 

“You’re doing it on purpose,” Lando grabbed your arm to stop you from walking away, “you’re being a brat on purpose,”. You looked at him, as if you didn’t know what he was talking about. “Don’t give me that,” he said, eyebrow raised at your expression. “And here I am, trying to reward you for winning. Now you’re gonna get punished,” your eyes widened at his words as he took your hand, pushing you back into your room. 

Any of the real meetings you genuinely had were gonna be missed. 

“Lando,” you gasped as he tugged at your team shirt, clawing it off your chest, your baggy trousers coming off with it. “What?” he said, eyebrow raised as he pushed you against the wall, his hand twisting the lock of the door. “Fuck,” you gasped as he nipped at your neck and collarbone. “Feel good?” he asked, lifting your legs up, onto his waist, his hands firmly on you ass. 

Your lips met, a warm, passionate kiss filled with lust and desire, as he moved one hand to your hair, the other one tugging your panties down. “Fuck” he pushed you onto the bed, “you’re soaking, y’know?”. You couldn’t help the whine that left your lips as he threw your legs onto his shoulders, your hands tugging at his curls as his mouth came to your folds. 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, his lips pressing featherlight kisses to your pussy, your wrists in his hand, your breast in his other. “Lando feels s’good,” you gasped, tugging at his locks, your hips pressing against him as he groaned, pushing you down. He moved his hand down to your stomach, holding you down, his mouth staying on you as you wriggled. “Fuck, Lando!” you shrieked, your orgasm was like heaven. 

He moved away from your core, his wet, warm lips trailing up your abdomen, his lashes clinging together with your wetness. “Feel good, doesn’t it?” he asked, your body shaking a bit from your high, “Doesn’t it?” he asked again, voice more demanding. You nodded, a small whimper leaving your lips as he took one of you tits into your mouth, swirling his tongue round the sensitive bud. “Lando, fuck” you gasped, his finger running through your folds again. 

Oh he meant punishment. You moaned again as his finger pushed into you, your hips bucking into him, his lips still sucking. “Lando don’t stop,” you rolled your hips against his hand as he pushed his middle finger in, curling inside of you as gasped, the sensation was heavenly. “Oh god, fuck,” you felt another high coming up. 

Your eyes rolled at the sensations, cheeks fiery red as you moaned - at this rate, you wouldn’t be able to take his actual dick. “Lando, Lan…” your voice trailed off, filtering into mewls and moans as you felt another orgasm wash over you. “So good f’me,” Lando mumbled, pulling you onto his lap, your body tired against his, “looked so good on the podium, y’know?” he cooed, pulling his own joggers down. 

One hand pumped his length, the other with his fingers deep inside of you, pumping slowly. “Gonna give me one more, okay?” he asked, lifting you up, before letting you sink onto his cock. “So fucking tight, Y/N, always so tight f’me,” he groaned, bouncing you softly on his lap, his hand coming to circle your clit. 

You were already sensitive from your last two orgasms, the knot building up quicker…faster, as his pace deepened. “Lando, Lando, I’m close,” you whined, your head on his shoulder as he bounced you. “That’s it, yeah? Cum for me,” he whispered in your ear, one hand dangling in your hair. “One more, okay?” Lando said, still bouncing you gently. 

You moaned again as he didn’t stop, your body tightening round his as he groaned. “Fuck, Y/N, gonna cum in you,” he mumbled, “gonna fill you up good,”. His words were what sent you over the edge, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he rode out your high for you, before he followed. “Oh fuck, Y/N,” he groaned as you tightened round him, your body against his chest. 

“So tight, fuck,” he gasped, “gonna fill you up, fill you right up,”. You felt his warm, hot cum shoot in this ropes inside of you, his head thrown back, resting his weight on his arms, which were shaking, his eyes squeezed shut as he rode out his high. “Mmm fuck,” you groaned, eyes shut again. “Feels s’good,” you whined. “I know,” he said, a kiss to your cheek. 

[pedantic-poison]

Oscar's hc abt him dating an ex of the drivers

upgrade | OP81

pairing: fem!reader x oscar piastri (pierre gasly as the ex)

genre: FLUFF! no warnings necessary here

word count: 1.3k

author's note: loved this ask, oscar needs more content NOW! please let me know if I misinterpreted anything and feel free to send in another if this isn't what you dreamt of, this definitely turned into more of a blurb of the start of their relationship than a headcanon so oopsies. thank you!

The first time he meets you, it's a Friday morning, way too early for Oscar's liking, but he likes having some time to settle in before he has to get in the car and drive, even if it is just for a Free Practice session

Just before he reaches the McLaren motorhome, someone rushes up to him, already apologizing for interrupting him, and he assumes you're going to ask for an autograph

He freezes when he finally looks at your face, more than a little stunned by the sight of you, even with you panting from running around frantically and looking a little frazzled

You told him you'd managed to get yourself totally turned around and you just needed to know which direction the Alpine motorhome was and you'd be out of his hair

For obvious reasons, he thinks you might be messing with him somehow, but your eyes are so earnest and pleading, staring straight into his, and he's overcome with a strange feeling of not being able to say no to you

Despite your assurances that he just needs to point you in a direction and you'll find your way to Alpine, Oscar insists on walking you all the way there, ignoring the quizzical looks he inevitably gets being seen near their motorhome

He's way too occupied with staring at you to notice anyways, listening to you ramble about how you ended up lost in the paddock, startling out of his trance at your mention of your boyfriend

Apparently, you were there to see Pierre, who you'd been dating for a few weeks, and with this weekend's GP in your home country, you'd made your way there to support him

(though you assured Oscar you wouldn't have missed an F1 race in your country regardless, but the paddock passes Pierre gave you were pretty sweet, which makes him laugh)

As you both arrive at the Alpine motorhome, you thank him with a kiss on the cheek, seemingly oblivious to the blush that spreads on his face

He does terribly during the practice sessions that day. Almost hits Pierre (who was definitely impeding if you ask Oscar), and accidentally lets loose on the radio, which, naturally, ends up on the broadcast. Lovely.

He tells himself that he's totally puzzled as to why he was so distracted today, that he has no idea why his focus kept drifting from the car.

But if he had to be honest with himself, he knows exactly why.

On the way out later that night, he sees you in the parking lot, and without meaning to his feet start taking him towards you

Stopping in his tracks when he sees Pierre, leaning against his car, arms crossed and voice harsh as he speaks with you, though Oscar can't quite make out the words.

It takes him a lot longer than he'd like to admit to force himself to continue on towards his car, driving the long way back to his hotel in an attempt to clear his head

It doesn't work.

He doesn't see you the next morning

FP3 goes fine, and Qualifying was equally mediocre, though Oscar got bumped up a few spots after impeding penalties were handed out (including one for Pierre, and Oscar had the strangest feeling that Pierre got in his way on purpose today, too)

After he's changed out of his race suit and leaving the McLaren motorhome, Oscar's stopped in his tracks by the sight of you waiting just outside

He asks you if you've gotten yourself lost again, teasing, and when you tell him you could use some assistance finding the parking lot, his grin is so wide it nearly splits his face open

The conversation as you two walk is easy, lots of teasing and playfully mocking each other

Eventually Oscar musters up the courage to ask you about what he saw in the parking lot the night before, explaining that he doesn't want to pry, just wants to make sure you're okay

You sigh, seeming more annoyed than upset, and you tell him that Pierre was pissed after seeing you talking with Oscar the day before

And he wasn't too happy when you made it clear that he didn't get to dictate who you're allowed to speak to

The only thing that really matters about that conversation is that you realized Pierre was a jerk, and you dumped him

Oscar's quiet for a second, then grins and asks you if you're still using the paddock passes he gave you

To which you reply of course, which makes him laugh

Before he can think about it enough to stop himself, he offers to get you McLaren paddock passes, promising you that he has it on good authority that making the switch from Alpine to McLaren was worth it, and you snort as you laugh, completely unladylike and totally endearing to him

He invites you back to his hotel, using some excuse about how you need post-breakup ice cream and shouldn't do that alone to tell himself he's just being friendly

You don't mention to him that you definitely aren't torn up enough to need to be consoled, because you're pretty sure he can tell

But you let him pretend that's the reason he wants to spend time with you, and he lets you pretend that's why you come back to his hotel room

You end up staying up way too late, talking and making each other laugh so hard you cry, and Oscar ends up insisting that you stay the night because it's way too late for you to get yourself home

You go back and forth for a while debating who gets the couch and who gets the bed (you're pretty sure at one point there was a standoff that involved both of you simultaneously demanding to sleep on the floor)

Eventually you both get too tired to keep being stubborn and honestly the bed is unreasonably huge so you both just collapse in the bed, murmuring sleepy promises to stay on your own sides

Which probably lasts about fifteen minutes before you're so tired and cold that you unconsciously curl yourself around him

And Oscar can't really help the way his arms move to wrap around you, gentle and warm, as he sleepily relaxes into you

Which is how you wake up the next morning, both a little bashful

It doesn't occur to either of you that you're showing up to the paddock together, on a race day, with a McLaren pass dangling around your neck and a McLaren shirt hanging from your shoulders - both from Oscar

He ends up having to take your hand to guide you safely through the fray of reporters and fans, apologizing shyly for doing so when you reach the safety of the McLaren motorhome

You tell him you really don't mind, and he just can't help but stare into your eyes for a beat too long

You wish him luck before he takes off, placing another kiss on his cheek, and this time you catch the blush that creeps up his face

He drives incredibly. When he steps out of his car, he decides that he just finished the best race of his life

No podium (yet), but he doesn't care

When he gets back to the motorhome, he's sweaty and flushed and exhausted

And he sees you and you throw your arms around him without a second thought, a huge smile on your face

And then all of a sudden he's kissing you

You're not sure who initiated the kiss, and you're so consumed with Oscar that you really don't care enough to think about it

When he pulls away to breathe, Oscar tells you that he never wants to see you in any other number but his

You laugh and tell him you're just fine with that

You don't actually notice until later that night that Pierre didn't even finish in the points

You didn't really care if he was mad, he'd just have to get used to seeing you in the paddock, hand in hand with Oscar, dressed in orange, every single weekend

Oscar didn't really care if Pierre hated his guts either

He'd already beaten him - on and off the track

[its-avalon-08]

Amoreeee!

i love ur works and i have a very specific reuqest in mind. this is too detailed so please feel free to ditch a few details because im aware its too much. this is a mv1 x senna!daughter one.

max is hard racing some driver and he gets angry and flustered and he crashes because he act irresponsibly. y/n's heart stops because the way the car rotated and hit the barrier refletced her late father's passing.

her breath stops, max is ok but gp IS ANGRY at him because that could have been easily avoided. max is not hurt at all.

he is still angry when he comes back into the motor home. and then y/n gives him a cold shoulder and doesnt speak to him.

this makes max angrier leading to a passive aggressive arguement. max says something which leads y/n to say "fine then, fuck off and die see if i care" max is shcoked and so is everyonbe else in the motorhome

when she rushes out in tears she bumps into carlos/charles/lando and he comforts her and she says "i never shouldve said that"

they make up, hapoy ending make it extra emotional.

LOVE UR WORKS!

i have to confess, i love this one the most out of everything i've ever written. its extra extra long, and the anon messaged me and asked me to add a few more things, so i have done the same! anon ily ! (edit - i messed up the translation! its been fixed now!!) enjoy reading <3

coração valente (mv1) (brave heart)

find the headcannon here!

The roar of the engine was a dull thrum in Y/N's ears as she watched the battle unfold on the screen. Max was locked in a fierce fight for position with Esteban Ocon. Every aggressive lunge, every desperate attempt to overtake sent a tremor of unease through her. It was too reminiscent, too close to the edge.

Then, disaster struck. Ocon made a late move, and Max, fueled by frustration and a competitive fire, reacted impulsively. He swerved to block him, the car losing traction as it took the corner too tightly. The world slowed down as Y/N watched in horror. The Red Bull spun, a sickening ballet of red and blue against the asphalt, before slamming into the barrier with a sickening crunch.

Her breath hitched, a choked sob escaping her lips. The way the car crumpled, the dust cloud mirroring the crash that stole her father… the memory flooded back, vivid and terrifying. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drum solo threatening to burst through her chest.

Thankfully, the medical team rushed to the scene, and the relief was almost a physical blow. Max emerged from the wreckage, shaken but unharmed. But the reprimand from Horner was swift and brutal. "Unnecessary risk, Verstappen! You could have avoided that entirely!"

By the time Max stormed back into the motorhome, his anger was a palpable presence. He tossed his helmet onto the couch, the thud echoing in the tense silence. Y/N sat by the window, her back to him, a cold, hard wall where warmth and concern usually resided.

"Great job out there," Max spat, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Another brilliant strategy by Horner, putting all the pressure on me."

Y/N remained silent. Her silence was a punishment, far worse than any raised voice. Max, already on edge, bristled.

"You gonna say something, genius?" he snapped. "Or are you just gonna sit there like a statue?" Y/N turned a deaf ear to that.

The air in the motorhome felt thick enough to chew on. Y/N sat at the table, meticulously organizing spare race parts, a pointed silence radiating from her. Max hovered by the coffee machine, his usual swagger dampened by a heavy frown.

Christian Horner, ever the mediator, attempted to lighten the mood. "So, Max," he boomed, "what are we learning from this little spin?"

Max, bristling at the reminder, mumbled a vague response about tire strategy. Y/N, without looking up, chimed in, "Perhaps a lesson in spatial awareness wouldn't go amiss."

The air crackled. Max whipped his head towards her, his jaw clenched. "Oh, and who's the expert on spatial awareness, Miss Never-Been-On-The-Track?"

Y/N slammed a wrench down a little too hard, the metallic clang echoing in the tense silence. "There's a difference between calculated risk and reckless driving," she retorted, her voice laced with ice.

Max scoffed. "Spoken like someone who's never felt the pressure of a championship on their shoulders."

Y/N's eyes narrowed. "Pressure doesn't excuse stupidity, Max," she said, her voice clipped.

Horner cleared his throat, his booming voice a desperate attempt to break the ice. "Look, let's all take a moment to cool down. We can dissect the crash later. Right now, Max needs a clear head for the next race."

With that, Horner steered Max towards a debriefing session, leaving Y/N alone in the charged atmosphere. She picked up a stray bolt, turning it over in her hand, her knuckles white with repressed anger. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the workshop around her.

Just then, Charles walked in, his perceptive eyes catching the glint of tears on her cheeks. "Rough day?" he asked softly.

Y/N choked back a sob. "It's just… I don't know if I can watch him race anymore," she confessed, her voice thick with emotion.

Charles pulled up a chair beside her, his presence a silent comfort. "You know Max," he said gently. "He makes mistakes, but he learns from them."

Y/N shook her head. "This wasn't just a mistake, Charles. It was reckless. And it brought back…" she trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Charles squeezed her shoulder in understanding. "The fear," he finished for her. "It's always there, isn't it?"

Y/N nodded, a tear escaping and tracing a path down her cheek. "I can't lose him too," she whispered, her voice cracking.

Charles offered a sad smile. "You won't," he assured her. "Max is stubborn, but he cares about you. He'll learn from this."

His words offered a glimmer of hope. Y/N knew Charles was right. But the fear, the raw terror that had gripped her during the crash, still lingered.

Max, a whirlwind of frustration earlier, had retreated into a sullen silence. Y/N, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy, refused to acknowledge him directly. The tension crackled between them, a storm waiting to erupt.

Daniel Ricciardo, ever the peacemaker, tried to lighten the mood. "So, Max," he said, a touch too cheerfully, "what are we having for dinner? Surely Y/N has whipped up some magic in the kitchen?"

Y/N's lips twitched, but she remained focused on her phone, pretending not to hear. Max, still fuming, mumbled a curt, "I don't care."

The forced joviality died a quick death. Charles, sensing the undercurrents, offered, "Actually, I wouldn't mind ordering some takeout. How about some Indian?"

Y/N finally looked up, her voice clipped. "No, thank you, Charles. I'm not particularly hungry."

Max scoffed. "Suit yourself. More for the rest of us, then."

The passive-aggressive jabs continued throughout the evening, each veiled comment a fresh barb. Y/N praised Charles's recent qualifying performance, a clear dig at Max's reckless driving. Max, in turn, bragged about a new training program he was starting, a not-so-subtle jab at Y/N's perceived lack of understanding.

"Honestly that race was mine, Ocon fucked it up for everyone," Max proclaimed.

"Maybe," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "if you hadn't been so busy playing daredevil, you wouldn't have thrown away the race."

The words hung heavy in the air. Max felt a flicker of something cold and sharp twist in his gut. "Playing daredevil?" he scoffed. "I was out there fighting for the win!"

"At what cost?" Y/N's voice cracked, the dam of her emotions threatening to burst. "Do you even understand the fear you put me through?"

Max, for the first time, saw a glimpse of the terror that mirrored his own reckless driving. He opened his mouth to apologize, but the words wouldn't come.

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken emotions. Then, in a moment of horrifying clarity, Max blurted out, "Look, if you can't handle the pressure, maybe you should just—"

The sentence died on his lips as he saw the blood drain from Y/N's face. She stared at him, her eyes filled with a hurt so profound it took his breath away.

"Fine then," she said, her voice a choked whisper. "fuck off and die. see if i care."

The words echoed in the stunned silence. Everyone in the motorhome froze, their eyes wide with shock. Even Max, fueled by anger, felt a cold dread settle in his stomach.

Y/N didn't wait for a response. Tears streaming down her face, she bolted out of the motorhome, the slam of the door a punctuation mark to the shattered silence.

Max stared after her, a tapestry of emotions swirling within him – anger, regret, a terror that mirrored her own. He lunged after her, but Charles, who had witnessed the exchange, caught him by the arm.

"Let her go," Charles said gently, his voice laced with concern. "She needs some space."

Max sank back onto the couch, his head in his hands. "What did I do?" he rasped, the anger replaced by a crushing weight of remorse.

The atmosphere was suffocating. Everyone, even the usually jovial mechanics, seemed to walk on eggshells around the warring couple. Tears streamed down Y/N's face as she walked, the weight of the fight, the fear, and the unspoken hurt threatening to overwhelm her. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be.

The cool night air did little to soothe the burning in Y/N's eyes. She wandered away from the motorhome complex, her legs numb and directionless. The roar of the track faded behind her, replaced by the chirping of crickets and the rustling of leaves. Tears streamed down her face, carving clean tracks through the grime of the day.

Then, she saw it. Half-hidden behind a cluster of trees, a towering mural emerged from the darkness. It was a familiar image – her father, mid-corner, a determined glint in his eyes, the car a blur of yellow and green. A wave of emotions washed over her – grief, pride, and now, a searing anger.

Sinking down onto a nearby bench, Y/N found herself talking to the painted image. "Why didn't you tell me, Dad?" she choked out, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Why didn't you tell me how terrifying it would be to watch someone you love race?"

"Doesn't he understand, Dad? Doesn't he see the risk he takes? It's like he doesn't care! Doesn't care about the fear he puts me through, the terror that I relive every single time I see a car spin out of control!"

She slammed her fist against the concrete wall, a raw scream escaping her lips. The sound echoed in the quiet night, a testament to the storm raging within her. Tears streamed down her face, hot and angry.

"And then," she continued, her voice trembling, "he has the audacity to get mad at me? To act like I'm the one overreacting? Doesn't he see what his actions do? Doesn't he see what he almost took away from me today?"

Silence, except for the rustle of leaves in the night breeze. But in her mind, she could almost hear his voice, warm and reassuring. "coração valente (brave heart)," it seemed to say, the nickname he always used for her. "Fear is a part of it, but it doesn't have to control you."

Y/N wiped her eyes, a flicker of understanding replacing the anger. Her father hadn't raced because it was easy. He raced because of the passion, the thrill, the dance with danger. He wouldn't have wanted her to live in fear, but to find her own strength, her own way to navigate the world he left behind.

The sting in his eyes wasn't just from the acrid smoke billowing from a nearby barbecue. Max's chest ached with a dull ache that had nothing to do with the crash. Y/N's words, "fine then, fuck off and die. See if I care," echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of his monumental screw-up.

He couldn't just sit there, stewing in his self-pity. He needed to find her, needed to apologize and explain the terrifying realization that had dawned on him during their tense silence.

Following a hunch, he made his way to the secluded corner where the mural of Ayrton Senna stood. In the dim glow of a single overhead light, he saw Y/N curled up with her back against the wall, her shoulders trembling with silent sobs. A red mark marred her hand where it had connected with the concrete.

His heart lurched. He knelt down beside her, his voice barely a whisper. "Y/N?"

She flinched at the sound, whipping her tear-streaked face towards him. Her eyes, red and puffy, held a storm of emotions – hurt, anger, and something akin to pleading.

Max swallowed the lump in his throat. "I… I shouldn't have said what I said," he began, his voice thick with remorse. "My anger… it clouded everything. I didn't…" He broke off, his own voice cracking.

Tears spilled down Y/N's cheeks. "And I..." she started, her voice trembling. "I never should have said what I did. It was awful, unforgivable of me." Her voice choked on a sob. "I don't… I don't want to lose you, Max. Not like that."

With a choked cry, she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. Max held her tight, the dam breaking inside him. He pressed kisses to her hair, each one a silent apology, a promise.

"I get it now, Y/N," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I understand the fear. I see it reflected in your eyes every time I step onto the track. And I promise, I'll never do anything like that again. Not if it means putting you through that kind of pain."

They clung to each other, a tangle of limbs and broken sobs. The night air vibrated with the raw emotions they were finally releasing. Slowly, the sobs subsided into sniffles, leaving behind a fragile calm.

Max pulled back, wiping away a stray tear from Y/N's cheek with his thumb. "Let's go back," he said gently, his voice hoarse. "We can talk properly, sort things out."

Y/N nodded, her eyes searching his. "Together," she added, a shaky smile playing on her lips.

Max grinned back, the familiar spark of mischief returning to his eyes. "Always," he promised. "Together, no matter what the track throws at us."

As they walked back hand-in-hand, the mural of Ayrton Senna seemed to watch over them, a silent guardian of their love, a love forged in fire, tested by fear, and ultimately strengthened by understanding and forgiveness. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but with each other, they knew they could face anything.