#Oscar get out I’m not joking anymore

[vicsy]

you gotta admire McLaren’s dedication to continuously shoot themselves in the knee over their own headloss, like they’ve pushed the team orders and played up the narratives, built a real fucking rocket ship, all that to backtrack in the whole world championship talk. if anything, they discredited their own drivers, their achievements, their “every point matters mentality”. god knows I’m the last person to speak up for Lando but you put your guy forward and try to paint him as THE championship contender, YOUR champion, but one race goes into the shitter and McLaren does the worst fucking case of “um actually” you could ever imagine. for a team that’s been trying to pose as a real threat to reigning champions, for a team that is currently leading the constructors, for them to discredit their own drivers like that should tell you enough about McLaren’s dna. fucking rotten through and through if you ask me.

[thatsdemko]

inexperienced? - o.piastri

masterlist | pairing: Oscar piastri x Norris!fem!reader. summary: in which a little joke takes a hit on you, and you prove to your brother that you do in fact, get it. warnings: mentions of sex + 18+ content + some soft fluff a/n: I’m back! so so happy to have something out xx ps please don’t do this I’m sure that this wouldn’t go so well with your family xx

your cheeks are a deep red hot and you’re sure the moisture forming on the back of your neck is from the sheer embarrassment right now.

“what?” Lando laughs, your sisters cracking up alongside him, “I’m sure the only thing those two do is vanilla at this point, we don’t have to worry about osc and y/n ever having a kid.” the laughter that spews out of him brings tears in his eyes but only brings you embarrassment as you sink further into your seat.

the conversation deterred rather quickly. it was a family dinner—a rare one to be specific—where your mother announced she’d found a few gynecologists for you to visit if you were to continue to see Oscar. Lando busted into a fit of laughter that you were sure he’d choke if he didn’t stop.

it wasn’t that you and Oscar weren’t exploring each other— because that would be a lie you definitely were, but you were taking your time. Oscar was your first serious boyfriend, and he was very serious about making sure you were comfortable with whatever were to come next.

“I’m sure osc has never even had sex. he’s got an innocence to him.” your sister snickers, but your mind is playing all the dirty moments it can of Oscar being nothing but innocent.

he was shy, always had been and even when it came to bedroom activities. you both never pushed each other beyond what you wanted and it was always sweet how nervous he got. it was like you weren’t alone in the first timers pool.

“do you guys do anything like that?” lando asks out of sheer curiosity, but he doesn’t realize you’d left the table. you’d snuck out of the laughing fits and into the living room far away from them.

“oh y/n! we are joking!” your sister hollers from the other room, “give us all the piastri babies in the world!”

—

“that really happened?” Oscar’s voice is hoarse in your ear. his heartbeat pounding against your shoulder, you can hear his uneven breathing pattern as his pushes himself against you.

“it was so embarrassing.” you grumble as you turn into his body and allow him to hold you like he always does.

“what did lando say? all we do is vanilla?”

“he knows im a virgin.” you reply in your brothers defense, and while you have no previous context of what vanilla is, you’d say that these activities you both do were far from that.

“not anymore are you.” Oscar reminds you with a nibble on your earlobe, “it doesn’t grow back, once it’s gone, it’s gone.”

your body shivers against him, “I don’t think it counts if I come in the first thrust.”

“it does count, but we can work on that.”

your first time was special. after many months of working on trust and definitely not laughing at each other in awkwardness, he finally set up candles and rose petals around his apartment. he did whatever he could to make you comfortable, and that night will probably be etched in your brain forever.

you practically floated home that evening and that next evening your mother laid down the recommended gynecologists at the dinner table. she knew you’d done it, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to notice the hickeys and the way you smiled at visibly nothing.

“you know lando is going to go into the office and tell everyone you’re not fucking me.”

Oscar rolls his eyes in response. it didn’t bother him that people thought he wasn’t getting it. he knew he went home to you and did whatever you two pleased before sleeping. Lando could spread all the false rumors around that he wanted, but Oscar never would care. that always showed you that Oscar was way more mature.

“one day you’ll get pregnant and he’ll still think we aren’t doing it.”

“there’s only one way to show him we are doing it,” your playful smirk makes his stomach swirl in excitement and anxiety, “you scare me, Norris.”

—

“why the fuck did you have sex in my bed?!” Lando shrieks running down the stairs towards the kitchen where you’re buttering toast for your dear boyfriend who’s covered in hickeys. a marking that certainly shows your bother otherwise.

“oh was that your bed? I’m so sorry, we just were really into it.”

[be4chywritez]

had me at hello | oscar piastri

oscar piastri x perez!reader

you bump into Oscar in the paddock and that’s when he fell.

my masterlist!

part ll

request are open!

prompt list!

You wandered through the paddock star-struck with the Formula One atmosphere Checo gave you specific instructions but you tend to veer off your brother's instructions. You've been to races before it's been a while since you've come to one, being busy building your own career, with your family's support you went off to become a world-renowned actress meaning you didn't have time to follow your brother around anymore.

As you pulled out your phone to see where Checo told you to meet him, you were bumped into. Letting out a huff, you turned around to be greeted by a flustered-looking guy. “So sorry, my mate pushed me,” he said, stabilizing you by holding your elbows.

You glanced at his “mate,” Lando, whom you’d seen before. You knew he was friends with Carlos, and Carlos was friends with Checo, so you gave the guy a graceful nod.

Calling out Lando’s name, he blinked in confusion. “Do you know where Carlos is or Checo?” Then it clicked; you were Checo’s sister.

A small smirk makes way on Lando's face, "Y/n this Oscar, Oscar this is Y/n Perez" he says, Oscar blinks his cheeks turn rosey, "Nice to meet you Oscar," you give a smile and Oscar swears he's done for the way that his name rolls off your tongue and oh that smile.

Lando being a great wingman checks his watch, "Oh shoot, I've got something I gotta do, Oscar can you walk her over." he lets out before walking away from you backwards Oscar makes a face at him but you don't get to see it because as soon as you turn to face him he smiles at you.

“Shall we?” he asks you give him a nod, while walking you strike up a conversation

“So why haven’t I seen you at the race so far?” he asks. Oscar usually doesn’t take well to strangers, but he feels like he’s known you for a long time.

“I’ve been busy with my career,” you say, looking at him. He nods. “Oh, you’re a driver?” he asks. You let out a giggle. “No, no, I’m an actress,” you say. Oscar nods, realizing where he recognized you.

“So what about you, Oscar?” There it was again; Oscar would turn into a pile of mush if you kept pushing it. He swallows.

“It’s good, challenging but rewarding,” he says, giving you a smile.

You turn to face Oscar, finally taking in his features. His warm brown eyes hold a gentle spark, the slight flush on his cheeks contrasts endearingly with his clear skin, scattered with a few freckles that you could spend counting all your days.

Your eyes trace the constellation of moles on his face and neck. Each one seems perfectly placed. There’s something intimate about those small marks.

You realize you’ve been staring and quickly look away towards the Redbull garage, too embarrassed to face Oscar after catching yourself. He has a small smirk on his face, his cheeks even rosier if possible.

Checo spots you and Oscar, looking confused as he approaches. “Te he estado buscando por todo el maldito paddock,” he says, glancing at Oscar with confusion.

“I was trying to find you, but I got lost, and Oscar,” you place your arm on his bicep, not noticing how he melts under your touch, “helped me find you.”

Checo looks at Oscar, then at your hand, and finally at you. “Okay, c’mon, Christian is waiting,” he tells you, nodding at Oscar who gives an awkward thumbs-up. You turn to Oscar, saying, “Thank you, Oscar,” with a smile, before walking into the Redbull Garage, or as Lando likes to call it, the “Lions den.”

As Checo walked you through the Red Bull garage, he looked at you and raised a brow. “¿Qué estabas haciendo con él?” he asked, genuinely curious but also protective.

“Nada. I got lost, and he was there to help me,” you said with a small, unwilling smile, thinking about Oscar.

Checo cracked a smile, taking off your Red Bull cap and ruffling your hair. “Te gusta, cabrona,” he joked. You swatted his hand away. “Shut up,” you said, finally reaching Christian, who watched you and your brother fight with a small smile on his face.

“What’s got you all riled up?” Christian asked with a smile.

“Just saw her talking to a McLaren boy,” Checo said. Christian let out a loud laugh. “Was it the new one?” he asked. You nodded shyly. “Well, we can’t have you switching alliances,” Christian teased. You rolled your eyes at his antics. “I’m just gonna go sit,” you said, taking a seat on the back wall and being handed a headset by an engineer, whom you thanked.

While you waited to start your watch, you watched the hustle and bustle of the garage on both Max and Checo’s side. So enthralled by it, you didn’t realize the camera had cut to you.

-

Oscar stood towards the back of the garage with Lando, who was yapping about something. When you appeared on the screen, Oscar completely stopped listening to Lando and watched you. The way you looked so amazed by everything made him want to just sit there and watch you.

Lando brought him out of his daydream. “Osc got a little crush?” he asked jokingly, but Oscar didn’t respond, going back to looking at you. “Oh, he had a big one,” Lando joked before they were called to get suited up.

-

The race was disappointing, to say the least. While you were happy for Max, your heart ached for your older brother. When he got out of the car, he went straight to the garage, and you made a beeline towards him, pulling him into a hug and patting his back. “You’ll bounce back, you always do,” you reassured him. He pulled away, offering a suggestion with a smirk, “Deberías ir a ver la ceremonia del podio. Creo que cierto chico estará allí.”

You rolled your eyes before walking towards the podium ceremony.

Locking eyes with Oscar, you noticed him walking towards you.

“Were you going to the podium too?” he asked. You nodded, and he offered, “Do you want to come with me?”

You gave him a smile, “Yeah.” He then flushed, adding, “You might wanna walk in front of me sometimes; people really like to shove.” Following his advice, while walking, Oscar placed a hand on your lower back. You excused it as a guide to not get lost, but internally, you felt like putty.

Surprisingly, you both made it to the front of the barricade. Oscar still hadn’t removed his hand from your lower back, and you didn’t say anything, not wanting to disrupt the moment.

As the ceremony started, you clapped for all three of the drivers. Lando and Max looked down below, spotting you. You saw Lando point towards the two of you, and then Max laughed.

After the ceremony died down, you and Oscar walked in silence, neither wanting to break the connection between you. Each step felt heavy, as if you were both reluctant to leave each other’s side. Finally, when you reached the Red Bull garage, you turned to face Oscar with a small smile.

“Well, this is me,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood. Oscar chuckled softly, but there was a hint of reluctance in his eyes.

As you opened your mouth to say something more, Oscar cut you off gently. “It was really nice meeting you,” he said, his voice tinged with sincerity.

You nodded, a rush of emotions swirling inside you. “It was great meeting you too,” you replied, your heart pounding with anticipation. Gathering your courage, you decided to take a chance. “Maybe we should exchange numbers, just in case I get lost, y’know,” you suggested, a slight heat creeping up your cheeks.

Oscar’s expression softened, and he nodded in agreement. “Yeah, totally,” he said, pulling out his phone and handing it to you. As you exchanged numbers, excitement bubbled in you.

After handing his phone back to him, you couldn’t resist the urge to give him a hug. It was an unexpected gesture, but Oscar embraced you warmly, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. You felt the warmth of his body against yours, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

When you pulled away, you met Oscar’s gaze, feeling a sense of connection that was hard to ignore. With a final smile, you said, “Goodnight, Oscar,” before turning to leave. But before you could go, you leaned in and pressed a light kiss to his cheek.

Oscar’s breath caught in his throat, and he blinked in surprise, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Goodnight,” he murmured softly, his eyes following you as you disappeared into the Red Bull garage.

[no-144444]

making moves- l.norris

a/n: HI AND WELCOME TO MY FIRST FIC-TOBER FIC I HOPE YOU ENJOY :)))))

Day 1 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: Lando and you don't exactly get along and now you're quitting, he'll surely take it well, right?

pairing: lando norris x fem! mclaren publicist! fem! reader

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You turned the corner of the media pen with Lando’s arm in your hand. If he stepped one foot out of line, if one hair was out of place, one unnecessary giggle or joke, you’d lose your mind. You were getting sick of this, of him, of cleaning up every single one of his messes. 

“I said I’m sorry-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” you sighed. You hadn’t studied mechanical engineering and sports journalism for years in college to become a goddamn babysitter. “Just do your interviews and don’t say anything about your relationship status, please Lando.”

He rolled his eyes but obliged, moving past you to start an interview with some sports journal.

You watched the room around you. You would miss this, the buzz of the media pen, the entire paddock, being so close in the action of your favourite sport. You wished it hadn’t come to this. You didn’t want to quit, but you were being driven mad by a 24 year old man-child, and you couldn’t take it anymore. A year and a half ago, you were being driven crazy by how much you wanted him, now, it was his party-boy ways and arrogant smirk that set you off. Lando had always been a popular driver, you understood the attraction on every level. He was a pretty, sometimes funny, and rich man. He was on the younger side of the grid, and he was talented. Christ, was he annoying to work with. He was conceited, self-centred, a manwhore, and downright difficult the majority of the time. You disregarded almost every time he was kind to you, because less than 48 hours later he would do something dickish and ruin your weekend off, or make you cancel a date to come get him from a club because he was drunk and his friends left him alone, blah, blah, blah. You were excited to finally be free of Lando Norris and his asshole-ish ways, yet, maybe you’d miss his face. Anyways, just one race left, and your two-weeks are up. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ Team dinners were simple, you usually sat beside Lily, Oscar’s girlfriend, and chatted with her about her course (the same one you took) and whatever else came to your minds. As the night came to a close, you walked Lily and Oscar back to their rooms with Lando trailing behind, texting on his phone. 

Lily pulled you into a hug. “I’ll miss you so much!” she sighed. “It sucks you’re not even finishing the season with McLaren.”

You shrugged, hugging her back. “I’ll call you, I promise. And we have Greece in January,” you reminded her. She nodded and pulled back. 

“See you in the morning,” she smiled, then disappeared back to their hotel room. 

“See you in the morning,” Oscar smiled, pulling you in for a hug. “You better call her once you land in New York, or she’ll lose her mind,” he chuckled. 

You nodded, smiling. “I will, don’t worry. And I’ll miss you too, Osc.”

He smiled, pulling back. “I’ll miss you too.”

You turned to go to your room, but Lando stopped you. “Why are you going to New York?”

“For my new job,” you explained calmly. “I’m leaving on Sunday night.”

Confusion flashed across his face, and you took the silence as a chance to leave. You brushed past him and continued on your way down the hall. 

“What do you mean you’re ‘leaving’ on Sunday night? Are you going on holidays for the weeks we have off?” he asked, catching up with you. 

“No, I start my new job the next week and I need to get my apartment unpacked and sort out my office,” you explained. 

“What? Why are you doing that?”

“Unpacking my apartment? I’ll be living there-”

“No, moving? You have a job, y-you work here, you work with me,” he stumbled through his sentence and you raised an eyebrow. 

“Did Stella not tell you? I’m leaving after the race this weekend. I sent in my two-week notice almost two weeks ago. I got a job offer from the New York Jets and I took it. Anyway, good night Lando, I’ll see you in the morning,” You continued on your way to your room. 

“You can’t just leave! What will I do without y- someone to-”

“Get your laundry and fix your mistakes in the media? You’ll be getting a replacement when I leave. His name is Will, he’s organised, and he’s quite funny. I think you’ll get along.” 

“What will I do without you?” he gritted out. “You’re meant to be here, with me, and now you’re leaving? How am I supposed to feel?”

“Imparcial I’d assume.”

“Imparcial? Y/n, come on, you can’t be that blind?” This was a different version of Lando than what you were used to. He was usually a brass and confident arsehole. Yet, here he stood in front of you, upset that you were leaving. 

“Blind to what? The way you abuse your power? The way you make me do your bidding? The way you make me cancel important things in my personal life to fit your schedule of heavy drinking? The way-”

“The way I’m in love with you?!” He practically shouted. You clapped a hand over his mouth and a surge of panic ran though you. You pulled him into your hotel room after you and sat him on the bed, then proceeded to pace the room. 

What did he mean he loved you? He hated you. He made your life a living hell. He made sure you’d have to see him everyday. He made sure you’d be in his apartment building. He made sure to-

Oh. Shit. He loved you. 

“Y/n,” his voice was soft. “You need to calm down.” 

You turned to him. “Calm down? What the fuck do you mean ‘calm down’? I’ve just spent the last fucking year and a half burying any and all romantic feelings for you, tried to hone in on all of your flaws to make myself hate you, quit my job to get away from you, and now you’re telling me you love me? What the fuck Lando?!” 

“You had romantic feelings for me?” He blushed. 

“That’s what you got from that?!” 

He chuckled. “I’m sorry, alright. We can work this out, just tell Andrea you don’t want to quit-”

“Lando I’ve accepted the job offer in New York, I’ve signed the contract. I can’t back out,” you sighed, putting your head in your hands. “You really have great timing,” you scoffed. 

He smiled, placing his hands on your waist. “Then we’ll make it work,” he shrugged. “I want you, if you’ll have me.” 

You looked up at him. Were you really doing this?  Lando Norris was your typical male celebrity in his twenties. He had everything he could ever want, any girl he could ever want, and he wanted you? Every insecurity and logical bone  in your body told you to run away. You’d seen what the internet did to girls he was seen in public with, let alone a girl he actually came out and admitted to dating. Was he worth being torn apart for? 

“You’re killing me here,” he laughed to hide his fear. He’d waited a year and a half for this moment. He wanted you more than anything. He wanted to be able to call himself your boyfriend and get to call you his girlfriend. He wanted you around him all the time. Every time he’d found out about a date you’d been on or met a guy you’d been seeing he was filled with jealousy. He was yours, he just needed you to be his too. 

“Lando, I don’t know if this is a good idea-”

He pressed his lips to yours and it was undeniable. This was what you had been searching for. That stupid ‘spark’ all those rom coms talked about all the time. Kissing him was like fireworks. He brought your hands up to wrap around his neck and smirked when you kissed him back. You fit together so perfectly, his lips against yours, your skin against his, everything. 

You pulled back slowly. 

“So can I be your boyfriend now?” he whispered, the hint of a smile on his lips. 

“Only if I can be your girlfriend,” you smiled back.  He pressed his lips to yours again. Maybe he was worth being torn apart for.

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fic-tober masterlist

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[pucksandpower]

My Brother’s Father

Charles Leclerc x Piastri!Reader

Summary: apparently you’re dating your brother’s father and Charles is dating his son’s sister … what a mess!

You toss another shirt into the open suitcase on the bed, humming to yourself as you go through the closet. Charles will be home from training any minute and you want to have your little prank all set up before he arrives.

The front door opens and closes, followed by the familiar sound of Charles’ keys hitting the bowl by the entrance. “Mon amour? You home?” He calls out.

“In here!” You respond, stifling a grin. You pick up the pace, grabbing handfuls of clothing and dropping them haphazardly into the suitcase.

He rushes down the hallway, ready to convince you to join him for a shower. But when he reaches the bedroom door, his heart sinks.

“What … what are you doing?” He asks, horrified.

You glance up, your face the picture of innocence. “Oh, hello darling! I was just packing a few things.”

“Packing? For what? Are you … are you leaving me?” The words crack in his throat.

You sigh theatrically, shaking your head. “I’m afraid I have to, Charles. I can’t be with you anymore.”

“What? Why?” He staggers forward, feeling like he’s been kicked in the gut. “Did I do something wrong? Whatever it is, I’m sorry! We can fix it!”

Shooting him a mischievous look, you bite your lip. “It’s because of Oscar.”

Charles freezes. “Your brother? What does he have to do with us?”

“Well, think about it ...” You abandon the suitcase, sauntering over and trailing a fingertip down his chest. “When you adopted him, that made you his father. Ergo … you’re my brother’s father now.”

Charles gapes at you, completely lost. “I … what? That’s not how it works! I was just joking on Twitter-”

“So you’re saying you don’t see Oscar as your son?” You arch an eyebrow accusingly.

“Well, no, I don’t actually-”

You shake your head, clucking your tongue. “Shameful, Charles. Denying your own child like that.”

“But he’s not really-”

“Poor Oscar,” you lament, throwing a hand against your forehead dramatically. “Rejected by his own father! No wonder he’s been texting me constantly, sobbing about what an awful dad you are.”

Charles scrambles to catch up. “Oscar has not been … we’re not actually related, Y/N!”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” You back away, hands on your hips. “But the fact is, I can’t date my own brother’s father. It’s just … wrong. Morally corrupt.”

“You’re being completely ridiculous!” Charles throws his hands up.

Whirling on him, you jab a finger into his chest. “So you’re calling your son a liar now too? How dare you!”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, at a total loss. You stare at him expectantly, arms folded.

Finally, Charles decides to change tactics. “Fine, okay, let’s say all that is true. For the sake of argument. That still doesn’t mean we have to break up!”

You blink at him innocently. “It doesn’t?”

“No!” He grabs your hands, holding them tightly. “Mon cœur, I love you. We can make this work.”

Pursing your lips, you pretend to consider it. “I don’t know … having a romantic relationship with my brother’s father? It just feels so sordid and taboo.”

Charles groans, rolling his eyes. “You’re making no sense. This is all hypothetical!”

“Is it, though?” You wiggle your fingers free, tapping your chin. “The heart wants what it wants, Charles. And mine wants to avoid a salacious love affair with Oscar’s own dad.”

Throwing up his hands again, Charles growls in frustration. “This is completely insane! We were together before I ever ‘adopted’ Oscar as a joke on Twitter!”

“Were we?” You ask loftily. “Sometimes the lines get so blurred, don’t they? It’s hard to keep track of what came first.”

Charles stares at you wildly for a long beat. Then, abruptly, he lunges forward — sweeping you up into his arms as you squeal in surprise. You flail dramatically as he hauls you over to the bed, tossing you down onto the rumpled sheets with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Charles Leclerc, what do you think you’re … eep!” Your faux outrage melts into peals of laughter as he attacks your sides with wiggling fingers, mercilessly tickling you. “Stop, stop! I give up, I give up!”

But he’s relentless, pinning you to the mattress as his fingers dance expertly over your most ticklish spots. You thrash and giggle helplessly, tears of mirth springing to your eyes.

“Say you’re not breaking up with me!” He demands, grinning wickedly. “Say it, or I’ll never stop!”

“Never!” You gasp out, breathless with laughter. “I’ll never, hahaha, surrender!”

Lunging up, he captures your lips in a heated kiss, stealing your breath away. You melt against him with a contented hum, tangling your fingers in his soft hair as his hands roam over your body possessively. The teasing banter falls away, replaced by the familiar sparks of want and need that always seem to simmer between you.

When you finally break apart, you’re both flushed and panting. Charles gazes down at you with dark, molten eyes. “Are you done being ridiculous now?”

You try for an imperious look, but can’t quite hide the smirk tugging at your lips. “Well … I suppose I could be persuaded to overlook that our family tree is quickly turning into a wreath.”

“You’re impossible,” he mutters, dipping his head to trail scorching kisses along the exposed column of your throat.

Throwing your head back with a breathy sigh, you concede, “Fine, fine. I’m not actually breaking up with you, you lunatic.”

“Thank god.” He raises his head, his expression turning serious as he cups your cheek tenderly. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, okay? I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.”

You cover his hand with yours, turning to press a soft kiss against his palm. “I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t mean to worry you so much. I was just having a bit of fun.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t funny to me.” He tries to look stern, but you can see the fondness sparkling in his warm green eyes. “No more jokes about us splitting up. Or pretending I’m actually related to your brother. Deal?”

Tracing the beloved lines of his face, you murmur, “Deal. I promise to leave Oscar out of our sexy games from now on.”

Charles barks out a surprised laugh. “Our what now?”

You grin unrepentantly. “What? Like you’ve never fantasized about me calling you ‘daddy’ before?”

He flushes bright red, sputtering as you dissolve into giggles once more. Leaning down, he silences you with another heated kiss — and soon, all thoughts of Oscar and Twitter jokes are utterly forgotten.

[theonottsbxtch]

THE OTHER GUY PT.3 | FC43

an: let's go part three! i'm really loving this series, i'm trying to push for 4/5 parts? lmk if there is anything you guys want to see in particular! love you guys <3

part one | part two

ynpiastri

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 31,475 others

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The low hum of the treadmill and the rhythmic clang of weights filled the resort’s gym, but Franco wasn’t paying attention to any of it. His focus was locked on the woman in the corner, working through her routine with laser-like focus.

She didn’t notice him, which was for the best—he wasn’t ready to deal with her sharp tongue or the way she looked at him like he was the villain in her story. But right now, she was different. She didn’t have her guard up, didn’t look like she was ready to tear him apart with another sarcastic comment. She looked… gorgeous.

It wasn’t just the way her ponytail swung as she moved, or the way her tank top clung to her in all the right places. There was something else, something about the determination in her eyes, the way she focused on each rep like the rest of the world didn’t exist. She wasn’t just beautiful—she was fierce. Strong. And, damn, if that didn’t make her even more attractive.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaning against the doorframe, trying to play it cool. Franco knew he shouldn’t be watching her like this, but it was hard to look away. Every time he saw her, something pulled him in, and it was getting harder and harder to pretend it was just because she hated him.

He’d been thinking about her way too much lately. The way she challenged him, never letting him get too close, always keeping him on the edge. And yeah, maybe that was part of the thrill. But now, as he stood there, watching her with sweat glistening on her skin, it wasn’t just about the challenge anymore.

He wanted to ask her out.

The thought hit him like a punch to the gut, and he cursed under his breath. What the hell was he thinking? She couldn’t stand him. She’d made that clear from the start, and asking her out would probably end in her laughing in his face or worse—publicly roasting him on her Instagram for the world to see.

But still… he couldn’t shake the thought. The way she made his heart race, how every word from her lips felt like a dare. He wanted to take that risk, to see if maybe—just maybe—there was something more behind her walls. Something she wasn’t ready to admit.

“Mate, what are you staring at?”

The voice of his friend, Diego, snapped him out of his thoughts. He hadn’t even noticed Diego walking up beside him, his water bottle in hand and a raised eyebrow on his face.

“Nothing,” he muttered, but it was too late. Diego followed his gaze, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Right. Nothing. That’s why you’ve been standing here for a full five minutes staring at her like a lost puppy.”

“Callarse la boca,” (shut up) he grumbled, crossing his arms. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure it’s not.” Diego’s grin widened as he leaned in, lowering his voice. “So, when are you going to ask her out?”

He shot his friend a look. “You’re joking, right? You know how she feels about me. She’d chew me up and spit me out before I even got the words out.”

“Maybe,” Diego admitted, shrugging. “But maybe she wouldn’t. Look, I’m just saying, you’ve been eyeing her for days, and it’s not just because she’s Logan’s best friend and Oscar’s sister. You’re into her.”

“I’m not—���

“Mate, you are.” Diego cut him off, raising his hand. “And here’s the thing: girls like her, the ones that give you a hard time? Half the time, it’s because they’re scared of how much they like you. You know the saying, ‘keep your enemies close’ and all that.”

He shook his head, but deep down, he couldn’t deny Diego’s words were getting to him. Maybe that’s why she was always so sharp with him—because she was scared. Or maybe he was just kidding himself.

“Look, you’ll never know unless you try,” Diego continued, nudging him with his elbow. “What’s the worst that could happen? She shuts you down? You’ve survived worse, need I remind you of your ex?.”

He thought about it for a long moment, his eyes drifting back to her as she moved through her final set. Diego was right—he’d survived worse, and if she shot him down, at least he’d know he tried. And if, somehow, she didn’t… Well, that was a risk worth taking.

“Fine,” Franco said finally, running a hand over his face. “I’ll do it. I’ll ask her out.”

Diego grinned, clapping him on the back. “That’s the spirit! Just be cool, alright? Don’t be the cocky bastard you usually are. You’ve got this.”

He wasn’t so sure about that, but as he took a deep breath and headed toward her, the pounding in his chest wasn’t just from nerves. It was excitement. He was ready for the risk.

francolapinto

liked by williamsracing, carlossainz55, ynpiastri and 984,237 others

keep pushing during the break

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You wiped the sweat from your brow, breathing hard as you finished your last set. The gym was quiet this time of night, just the way you liked it. Fewer people meant fewer distractions—fewer chances of running into Franco.

You shook her head, scolding yourself for even thinking about him. Why was he constantly on your mind? Maybe it was because he seemed to pop up everywhere. The pool, the restaurant, and now—you caught a glimpse of movement in the mirror—the gym.

Your eyes flicked to the reflection. There he was, leaning against the doorway, watching you. You could feel his gaze, the same infuriating, intense look he always gave you, like he was daring you to react. It was infuriating how much he got under your skin, how he was always there, always pushing.

You turned your back to the mirror, trying to pretend you hadn’t seen him, but the knot in your stomach wouldn’t loosen. It wasn’t nerves, not really. It was more complicated than that—a mix of irritation, confusion, and something you refused to name. You weren't about to let him know he’d gotten to you, not when he was probably waiting for you to snap, just so he could make some smug comment.

But he didn’t leave.

You could feel him still there, watching, and it drove you crazy. You could handle the public stuff—the jabs on social media, the press interviews where he dropped some flirty comment about you, like he was trying to bait you. But this… this was different. He wasn’t playing to an audience here. This was just him, watching you like you were the only person in the room.

Your heart pounded, and you hated it. Hated that he had this effect on you.

You took a deep breath, your fingers tightening around the dumbbell in your hand. Maybe if you just ignored him, he’d leave. But then, the unmistakable sound of footsteps moving closer made your grip tighten even more. He wasn’t leaving. Of course he wasn’t.

"Hey," his voice cut through the air, smooth and casual, like he hadn’t been staring at you for who knew how long.

You straightened up, wiping your palms on your leggings before turning around, schooling your face into a mask of indifference. You weren't going to let him see any weakness.

“What do you want?” you asked, your tone sharper than youintended.

He hesitated for a second, almost like he wasn’t sure what to say. That was a first. Usually, he had some cocky remarks locked and loaded. But tonight, there was something different in his eyes. A vulnerability that threw you off guard.

“I was just… wondering if you wanted to grab a drink or something,” he said, the confidence in his voice wavering just enough for you to notice.

A drink?

You stared at him, completely blindsided. Out of all the things he could have said, that was the last thing you’d expected. Was he seriously asking you out? After all the snark, all the public back-and-forth?

You should say no. You should laugh in his face, tell him to take his ego and leave you alone. It would be the easiest thing in the world to turn him down.

But the words didn’t come.

Instead, you found herself staring at him, taking in the way his usually cocky demeanour had softened. He wasn’t smirking, wasn’t playing some game to get a rise out of you. He was just… asking. And there was something disarming about that.

Your heartbeat quickened, and you hated that, too.

“You’re joking, right?” you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. “No joke. Just thought maybe… we could talk. Outside of all this.”

You could tell he was waiting for the rejection. You could practically feel the tension rolling off him as he braced himself for your inevitable shutdown. But for the first time since you’d met him, you didn’t feel like fighting. She felt… curious.

Why now? Why you?

You crossed your arms, more to steady yourself than anything. “You know I can’t stand you, right?”

His lips twitched in what almost looked like a smile. “Yeah. I’m well aware.”

“And yet you think I’d want to get a drink with you?”

He shrugged, his eyes still holding yours, like he was trying to figure you out. “What can I say? I’m an optimist.”

You wanted to roll her eyes, wanted to laugh in his face, but instead, you found herself biting your lip, considering it. And that was the most frustrating part. Because as much as you hated him, you couldn’t deny there was something between them. Something you couldn’t explain, but it had been simmering beneath the surface from the moment you two had met.

You should say no. You should walk away, like you always did.

But instead, you found herself meeting his gaze head-on, searching his face for any sign of the arrogant playboy you’d convinced yourself he was. But all you saw was sincerity. And that was what made you hesitate.

“Fine,” you said, crossing your arms tighter. “But one wrong word, I’m gone.”

His smile was instant, warm, and more genuine than you’d ever seen. “Deal.”

ynpiastri

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alllllcoooolllllhol es muy bueno

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The bar is dimly lit, tucked away in a quiet corner of the resort. Normally, you’d appreciate the calm atmosphere, but tonight, you can’t shake the nervous energy running through you. You don’t know why you agreed to this—sitting across from him, sipping drinks as if you aren’t the same person who publicly can’t stand him.

Franco leaned back in his chair, watching you with that same relaxed expression that always makes your pulse quicken, though you’d never admit it. “So, you’re telling me you’ve never been surfing?” His voice is casual, like this is the most normal conversation in the world.

You shrug, swirling your drink in your hand, trying to act unaffected. “We’re a racing family.”

He grins, eyes never leaving yours. “I’ll have to take you sometime. I bet you’d be a natural.”

That teasing tone, the cocky smile—it should annoy you. It does annoy you. But there’s something different tonight. He’s not playing for an audience, not trying to rile you up like usual. It feels… real. And that’s what unnerves you the most.

“You think I’d take surfing lessons from you? You think I’d voluntarily hang out with you again?” you quip, raising an eyebrow, trying to regain some control over the situation.

“Absolutely. And you’d love every minute of it.”

You roll your eyes, but even as you do, you feel a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. When did this become easy? When did you start enjoying his company?

You take a long sip of your drink, trying to steady yourself. You shouldn’t feel this way. You’re supposed to dislike him. He’s supposed to be the cocky new driver who replaced Logan, the guy you roast on social media. So why is your heart racing?

“Are you okay?” His voice cuts through your thoughts, softer now.

You blink, realising you’ve been staring at the glass in your hand. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you mutter, setting it down.

But he’s still looking at you, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to read your mind. And for the first time, you don’t know if you can hide behind your usual sarcasm. He’s seeing through your defences, and that terrifies you.

“Listen,” he says, his voice low, almost gentle, “if this is weird for you, you can leave. No pressure.”

Your heart skips at the way he says your name, like it means something more than just another person in his world. Vulnerability flashes in his eyes, and you hate that it makes you feel something, something you’ve been trying to ignore.

You’re about to make a snappy comeback, to brush it off like always, but instead, you just sit there, staring at him. The space between you feels too small, the air thick with an unspoken tension.

Then a thought came to the front of your mind, was he going to kiss you?

The thought sends a jolt through your system. You should pull back, say something snarky, shut this down before it goes any further. But you don’t move. And neither does he.

The tension is electric now, crackling between you like a live wire. He leans in, just slightly, enough for you to feel the heat of his presence, and you realise—so do you. You’re leaning in, too. Your heart is racing, your breath shallow. You can feel the moment hanging there, fragile, on the edge of something you’re not sure you’re ready for. You’re ready to blame the alcohol but you hadn’t even finished your first drink.

And then, just as the space between you is about to disappear, a voice shatters the moment like a glass breaking.

“Oh my god Franco! Can I get a selfie with you?”

The interruption hits you like a bucket of cold water. You jerk back, blinking as you realise there’s someone standing beside the table—a girl, wide-eyed and holding up her phone, looking at him like he’s hung the stars and the moon.

He glances at her, clearly surprised, but quickly recovers with that easy charm of his. For a second, the connection between you snaps, and the intensity of the moment is gone.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he says, smiling at the fan. “Just give me a second.”

You lean back in your seat, trying to get a grip on yourself. Your heart is still racing, and you feel the ghost of what almost happened hanging in the air. You hadn’t realised how close you’d come to crossing that line until the moment was interrupted. And now that it’s gone, you don’t know how to feel. Relieved? Maybe. But there’s a part of you—a part you hate to admit—that’s disappointing.

He turns back to you, his face apologetic, as if he knows exactly what you’re feeling.

“I’ll be right back,” he says softly, standing up to take the photo.

You watch as he poses with the fan, your heart still thudding in your chest. The moment between you lingers in the air, but now, with the interruption, it’s slipping away. And you’re not sure if you want it back or if you’re relieved it’s gone.

twitter

imessage between logan and yn

the end.

taglist: @iimplicitt @isaadore @iamred-iamyellow @justheretoreadthxxs @obxstiles @how-what-why-huh @raizelchrysanderoctavius @sainzzreputaticn

comment if you want to be added to the tag lit xx

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part three.

INSTAGRAM.

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tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris

yourusername is it time for bahrain yet?! can’t wait to see these two back in action again soon! 🧡

view all 4,981 comments

mclaren We keep asking ourselves the same thing! Our engines are ready and we’re raring to go! 🧡

↳ yourusername you truly understand me mclaren admin

↳ mclaren we think you’re the one who truly understands us y/n

↳ user y/n x mclaren admin?? 🤯 the plot twist none of us saw coming

user missing these lads so much lately

user THE RADIO SILENCE ON OSCAR’S SOCIALS WAS KILLING ME I DEPEND ON THESE MEN TOO MUCH THEY KEEP ME ALIVE 😭😭

user the f1 drought is real rn

user MCLAREN SUPREMACY 2024

↳ user i’m trying to be delulu but we all know it’s just gonna be the mv33 and redbull show again this year 🫤

user soooo are we all just gonna pretend like we didn’t see the pics of her with garrett ward orrrrr?

↳ user no bc i was just thinking the same thing 👀

↳ user wait that was actually her??? cuz you can like barely see her face so i thought it was just a joke???

user what a fake ass bitch

user she only posts other ppl on her acc cuz she knows her ugly ass face would scare everyone else away

user homegirl needs to stay tf away from my man fr 😤😤

user god what a hoe 😒 she already has these two that she could fuck with idk why she needed to go after garrett

user SLUT SLUT SLUT

user if she tries anything with anyone else on the city team i’m gonna lose my shit fr

↳ user same omg

↳ user honestly i’m just glad she didn’t go after grealish or haaland 🙌

↳ user she probably would’ve tried if they weren’t taken already 🙄

↳ user nah i bet she’s totally a homewrecker garrett’s probably just the first on her list

user oh… these comments… 😰

↳ user right???

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yourusername the city boys know how it’s done! and looking pretty good in orange too 😉

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mancity The lads are looking good indeed! This weekend’s match against Newcastle should be an exciting one! ⚽️🩵

mclaren ✍️ Jeremy ✍️ Doku ✍️ and ✍️ Ruben ✍️ Dias ✍️ McLaren ✍️ 2025

↳ mancity Do you think Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri would look good in sky blue? 🤔

user funny how she posts every city man BUT garrett

user god when does she go back to f1??

↳ user march iirc

↳ user well it can’t get here soon enough jfc

user FUCK OFF WE DON’T WANT YOU

user you’re a slag and should accept the fact that any guy would only want you bc of how easy you are

user i’ll bet my left leg that the only reason the f1 boys haven’t shacked up with her yet is cuz they know she’s probably riddled with disease since she drools over every guy that comes near her 😒 like girl needs to bffr and realize that throwing herself at every male in her vicinity isn’t gonna land her a husband and it just making her even more of a slut

↳ user nah i’ll bet they’ve all already done her over in f1 but nobody will touch her now that they’ve passed her round so she had to come over to football just to try and get someone to touch her again 🙄🙄🙄

user i hope garrett realizes how much of a slut she is and breaks up with her

user sick and tired of bitches like this getting with footballers and being all controlling. like i’ll bet she’s gonna tell garrett he can’t go out and party with his mates anymore bc he has to spend time in with her and then she’ll get all pissy about him having female fans bc she’s insecure and knows that if garrett got to meet a REAL fan he’d jump ship immediately. those of us who ACTUALLY care about footballers know their fans are super important to them and we wouldn’t hinder their relationship with them just bc we’re jealous or insecure. garrett needs to be with someone who actually supports him and is willing to let him do what he wants instead of controlling him like he’s a dog on a leash.

user kys like genuinely

user god i can’t wait for this skank to die 😒

“Hey Lando, it’s me. Your best friend. Again,” you give a humorless chuckle. “I could seriously use some of your wizened advice right about now, so, uh, please just give me a call back when you can. Thanks.”

It seems poetic in a cruel sort of way that less than a week ago you were walking Etihad Campus and feeling like you were on top of the world━ working a new albeit temporary gig, adding the Manchester City name to your list of clients, having photos of world-renowned footballers in your portfolio━ and now you’ve resigned yourself to hiding away in the women’s restroom, locked in a stall because it’s the only place you could think of where nobody would be able to find you.

You’re on the verge of tears and feeling rather stupid for it.

It’s the third time today alone that your call has gone straight to voicemail, and with the dozens of unread texts you’ve sent in the last week added to the mix, it’s starting to paint a picture you’re not very happy with. Lando is ignoring you. Or he’s blocked you. Or he’s blocked you because he’s ignoring you━

You bite down on your lip, hard, to keep back the sob crawling its way up your throat.

You’re not a PR officer, you hadn’t been lying when you told Garrett that, but you’ve spent enough time around the McLaren PR teams that you’ve picked up enough tips and tricks to know, at the very least, that the best thing you can do is just ignore the comments.

That’s what they tell all the athletes.

What they don’t tell the athletes is that ignoring the comments is much easier said than done, especially when your career requires you to have such a significant online presence. And the thing is, despite all of these strangers hounding you with every name under the sun and criticizing your capabilities, qualifications, and very existence, the thing that hurts the most is the radio silence from the only person you know could make it all better.

Now, more than ever, you need your best friend. But he isn’t here.

You tuck your phone into your jacket pocket and unlock the stall with great reluctance. You know better than to be hiding away, shirking your responsibilities while crying over a few missed phone calls. You have a job to do, and a real professional wouldn’t let something as simple as a handful of tasteless comments get in the way of that.

You should be used to them. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.

Your first month at McLaren wasn’t entirely different.

When you were first hired on, Carlos had been in Formula One for a handful of years already and had built up a devotedly loyal fanbase with a decently large percentage of possessive fangirls who had come for your head the moment your existence had been announced.

The McLaren Instagram account had posted a picture of you standing between their two grinning drivers, your camera strung around your neck, with a very nice caption welcoming you to the team, and despite no indication that you were by any means involved with either of them in a way that went beyond professional, the comments had been taken over by feral teenage girls who saw the act of you simply standing near Carlos to be a direct threat against their “chances.”

Though it had been frustrating being met with childish threats and petty insults in your comments, you hadn’t really held it against any of them. You remember being a teenage girl and crushing on a celebrity. Deep down you knew you never had a chance with them, but that hadn’t stopped you from hanging posters in your bedroom and doodling their name beneath yours inside of scribbled hearts in your diary.

Regardless, it had taken close to a month for the negativity to die down, and you hadn’t had Lando then, either, so now shouldn’t be much different.

In fact, everyone on the Manchester City team━ trainers, physios, media coordinatiors, and anyone inbetween━ has been very polite about everything between you and Garrett. A lot of them have just avoided saying anything about it, which you’re very grateful for because you don’t think you’d be able to hold back your grimace while thanking them for their well wishes, and the few who have mentioned it typically only say something vague like a wishing you the best of luck or hoping you’re happy.

An intern gave you a sympathetic smile the other day, and you’d nearly burst into tears in the middle of the office of the Director of Communications, so you know you aren’t truly alone in this.

You just feel alone.

Exiting the bathroom is a simple affair. There’s no one standing post outside ready to give you any shit for being hidden away, and nobody comes sprinting around the corner as you make your way down the hall to the press conference room that’s been temporarily turned into your base of operations.

You think you’ll probably be able to go the rest of the afternoon without running into anyone, when you open your door and find━ sitting in the front row of the seats typically saved for journalists and the press, scrolling across his phone with a disinterested look painted across his face━ Jack Grealish.

“Jack,” you greet, a bit shocked. You close the door to the room gently behind you, and cross the distance to your desk. “Did we have a meeting scheduled? It must’ve completely slipped my mind, I sincerely apologize.”

He offers you a polite smile. “No, we didn’t, so no need to be sorry. I actually just wanted to check in. See how things are going with everything.”

You blink at him in surprise. Apart from Garrett, you haven’t really had much time to speak with the other players. They wish you good morning and good afternoon when they see you, and if a ball goes astray they always call out for you to watch your head, but between their morning training and their afternoon training, their strategy reviews at lunch, and the frequent in between meetings with physios, nutritionists, and trainers, they don’t get much time to chit chat with a simple photographer.

You clear your throat, “Erm, it’s going well. I’ve gotten some really good shots these past few days. There’s one with Rodrigo that I’m particularly proud of. It should do well with the fans.”

“And things with Ward?”

You purse your lips.

“Figured.” Jack sighs. “Look, nearly everyone you run into here knows or has at least some inkling into what he’s like. He’s a prick. None of the lads on the team like him, it’s why the managers are trying to get him out of here.”

You lower yourself down into your chair. “He told me they were planning to trade him off because of his reputation.”

Jack scoffs, “Yeah, ‘cause that’s the ‘official’ reason. They can’t cut his contract early for legal reasons, so they’re waiting for it to expire and coming up with an excuse for why they ain’t re-signing him. It’s really just ‘cause the rest of us can’t keep dealing with his massive ego and the fact that he’s a misogynistic fuck who doesn’t know the first thing about respect.”

“Fucking tell me about it,” you mutter with a sigh.

If he expected you to defend Garrett and is surprised by the fact that you haven’t, Jack doesn’t show it. He looks relaxed sitting across from you, like you’re having a casual conversation and not actively shit talking a member of his team. It gives you the impression that he knows significantly more about Garrett than you do, and that because of what he knows he probably figured out that one party in the relationship is not the most willing of participants.

“How’d you get all wrapped up it in then? Didn’t figure you to be the type to go after pricks like Ward.”

You debate over whether you should tell him or not. There isn’t much Jack can do about the situation regardless, but it would at least get things off your chest and if someone else knew then maybe you wouldn’t feel so alone anymore.

There’s only so many days you can spend hiding out in the women’s restroom trying not to bawl your eyes out, and you’ve already reached your limit.

You heave a sigh, “It’s kind of fucked up really.” A pen on your desk catches your attention and you start to fiddle with it, avoiding Jack’s eyes which have focused directly onto you. “He asked if I would help him fix up his reputation by pretending to be his girlfriend so he could show everyone that he’s matured and can hold down a steady relationship. When I told him no, he threatened to make up a lie about inappropriate conduct to get me fired and blacklisted from the industry, so for the sake of preserving my career I agreed.”

“Bloody fucking hell,” Jack murmurs, shaking his head. “I’m real sorry he did that, Y/N.”

You shrug. “It’s happened, so, there’s nothing I can really do except wait it out at this point.”

When you look up and meet his gaze, Jack looks murderous. His hands are clenched into fists on the armrests, knuckles white with the strength of his grip. His brows are furrowed, and his lips are twisted downward in a scowl.

“If you need anything,” he starts, “let me know. And I mean it. We all know how Ward can be. He’s a knobhead. So if you need anything━” his emphasis on the word and what that implies makes you feel more comforted than anything has since the whole fiasco started, “━then you let me know, or you tell one of the other boys and they’ll find me, alright?”

All you can do is nod.

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yourusername there’s no place like home

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━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry

━━ a/n: no lando yet, but we've got a cutesy little grealish scene to make up for it because i couldn't have a story with manchester city and not include him! lowkey writing this part made me wanna write for a footballer too... anyways! hope you all enjoy!

[earl-grey-teacake]

The Heart Remembers- Baby!Loscar AU WIP

It’s been so long since I have written a fic for Baby!Loscar and this is one I fully intend to get out in the next week or two. So enjoy and let me know what you think

****************

Retrograde amnesia: The inability to access memories previous to a traumatic brain injury

That’s what the doctors at the hospital told him as he sat in the hospital bed. However, George couldn’t think of a single thing in his life he might have forgotten. He was an F1 driver. He drove for Mercedes. He lives in Monaco. What else was in his life?

He had thought it was an elaborate prank until he realized that even Alex would not go so far with his pranks, nor have the ability to drag doctors and medical professionals into it. Alex, seemed the most shaken up about the whole ordeal. They were still friends after all their years racing together, he made sure to confirm that when Alex came rushing in. It seems they had even gone as far as to get matching rings, no doubt a cheap thing, an inside joke he must have forgotten about. They might have gotten it to spite the FIA and whatever strange ban they were trying to implement.

Then there was the little, blonde haired boy that Alex had come running in with when he had first woken in. The kid had run up to him shouting “daddy” and given him a hug. He thought it was a joke, a kid Alex had bribed to play a joke on his amnesiac friend.

“I’m not your dad. I’m not even married.” He had replied laughing as the color drained out of Alex’s face.

After an hour of tests and questions and poking and prodding, they diagnosed him with retrograde amnesia. Apparently, he had forgotten major milestones of the last five years. He forgot he was married to Alex, that they even got married and had a wedding in the first place. He also forgot he had a child, a son that Alex said was named Logan.

He didn’t even see the child since that incident in the hospital. “He’s on summer break and so are we. However, he still had karting so Max has been taking him to practice.”

“Oh, is he good?” George asked. Alex hasn’t smiled much since he’s been in the hospital which made George’s heart feel a certain way, but he always smiled when talking about his kid.

“Yeah, really good.” Alex smiled, clearly hoping that George’s asking must be a sign. “Max says he has strong pace.”

“Is Max hard on him?” George was very familiar with Jos’s treatment.

“No, nothing like that. Max is a big softie when it comes to Logan, he can’t bring himself to yell at Logan. Not that anyone else would even let him.” George smiled a bit, it’s good the kid had kind adults supporting him.

“Would you like to go see him race?” Alex asked.

“Uhm,” George paused. “I’m not sure. I don’t think I can provide anymore advice than what Max and the others are giving.”

Alex stared at him wide eyed before something in him seemed to retreat back, and he started to play with his ring. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Lewis, Nico Rosberg, and Jenson are all at the track today to cheer Logan on. It would be pretty crowded.”

Alex kindly left out the fact that Logan had cried the whole week for George, talking about how his dad had promised to go see him race today. But George wasn’t cleared to leave the hospital yet, that his brain needed to get acclimated to the info of having a husband and kid and that he was missing memories of all 4 years of his kid’s life. Alex wanted so desperately to tell George about how Logan was such a kind and gentle kid. How he begged Alex to “stay with Dad, he might be lonely” and that he wasn’t disappointed because Uncle Max and Uncle Uncle Charles and Uncle Carlos and Uncle Lando, and Oscar would come out to cheer him on. That he’ll be okay since Uncle Lewis, Uncle Nico, and Uncle Jenson would be coming by to see him race and they rarely get the chance to see him race.

**********

I hope you liked it! Let me know what you think ❤️

[disneyprincemuke]

is it just platonic?

alternatively: please stop flirting

in which she and logan can’t help but flirt with each other in public, but it’s always disregarded as them being mega best friends

(series masterlist)

“how has the weekend gone for you so far? have you visited any local ice cream parlours yet with oscar and logan?”

she smiles, pressing her lips together. “the weekend, as you can see, isn’t going that well for me. the car is feeling like it’s also a little under the weather, but hopefully it all comes together tomorrow in the third practice,” she sighs. “but no, i haven’t found the time to visit ice cream parlours yet. it’s been a pretty busy week.”

logan, who’s doing an interview next to her, pauses his own interview. he scooches closer to her and pokes his head towards her mic. “that’s because she was preoccupied with her sponsorship with dolce and gabbana!”

“oh, she’s the reason you’re deprived of the goodness of some local gelato goodness?”

“exactly.”

“yeah,” she laughs, rolling her eyes. “but, i’ve got to be looking good somehow — dolce and gabbana have got some of the best clothes!”

“oh, what are you wearing?” logan smiles, flicking his hands to get her to take a step back. “a good relationship’s been fostered after all your hard work, i see.”

“of course! i’m wearing their garden print — i just love flowers,” she beams, twirling around when logan makes the gesture with her hand. she takes a step forward and leans into the microphone. “thank you, dolce and gabbana for sponsoring me. if rihanna is watching this, i’m also begging for a sponsorship; your makeup lasts me entire races.”

“wow, the sponsor is sponsoring!” logan laughs. “she looks so pretty, doesn’t she?”

he looks away briefly, bending down to pet the black cat that has decided to walk up to him with its chin up, begging for some attention. when he looks back at his phone, comments continue to flood in as he livestreams.

“oh, you guys want to see (y/n)!” he beams, slowly getting up from his seat on the couch. “she’s been getting ready for media day for like… an hour now. she’s in her room.”

he knocks on her door, humming when she yells for him to come in. he flips the camera, showcasing his secret girlfriend in all her half-ready glory for the day they’ve got ahead of them.

“look at this pretty girl trying to be prettier!” logan compliments her, his hand darting out to squeeze her shoulder. “tell her to leave some ‘pretty’ for other girls, please!”

“oh, hey!” she smiles, her makeup brush in hand as she swipes on her cheek. she puts her hands down. “you’re live on instagram?”

“yeah.”

“oh, hi, you guys!” she shrieks, puckering her lips out to give the camera a kiss. “as you can see, logan’s being useless when he can simply just be in here with me helping me curl my hair.”

“don’t tell people i know how to do that!” logan frowns, flipping the camera back to him. he sighs when comments start flooding in about how sweet that gesture is. “don’t be fooled — she forced oscar and i to learn how to do her hair when she had a shoulder injury when she was 14. that’s the only reason i do her hair sometimes.”

“yeah! only when we’re late!” she giggles away from the camera. “he’s so thoughtful like that.”

the camera shakes, slowly being pulled away from logan with his confused stare. “show them your outfit too; give the people what they came for.”

she flips the camera, pointing it at logan who holds his arms out. “wow, look at this absolute fashionista for media day!” she jokes. “all the girls will be so all over him!”

“you’d be one of them, right?”

“of course! i’ve got priority in line, remember?”

kidy/n

🎵 taylor swift - king of my heart

liked by logansargeant, sebastianvettel and 49,967 others

kidy/n people don’t even ask to hang out anymore, they just barge into your room and take pictures of you and sit there in silence for hours

view 2,789 comments…

oscarpiastri people don’t even ask me to hang out anymore (i’m talking about you and logan)

user1 this is my thirteenth reason

oscarpiastri same lol

logansargeant MAAAAAYBE if u answered ur phone every once in a while idk

lilyzneimer they always ask me to hang out though

user2 hello song choice?

user3 i swear she’s dating someone but i just can’t place a finger on it

user4 wdym she’s dating logan (i’m delusional)

user5 nurse help

user6 no cause i need them to start dating for the betterment of my mental health

logansargeant lol but i take the best pics so like ???

kidy/n true u should quit f1 and be my fulltime photographer

logansargeant sending my resignation letter rn brb

williamsracing literally don’t do that

logansargeant i only take pics of things i find pretty

kidy/n k

user7 im guna need u to reciprocate the energy maam

user8 logan shooting nothing but airballs

user9 go girl give us nothing

user10 mOVE, white man, i saw hER FIRST

logansargeant photogenic people should always get their pictures taken

user11 thank u for ur service

user12 moving in with my best friend rn hoping they take pictures of me as good as this

kidy/n dont do it its a trap

logansargeant

🎵 5 seconds of summer - lover of mine

liked by kidy/n, oscarpiastri, alex_albon and 38,997 others

logansargeant people don’t even ask to hang out anymore, they just barge into your room and tell you to get up and be ready in 5 minutes

view 1,589 comments…

oscarpiastri yay i was invited this time

kidy/n by default

logansargeant i beat ur ass so bad u wished u hadnt come along

lilyzneimer i was on the winning team hehe

user1 thats a very y/n thing to do actually

logansargeant i know it’s just annoying becauseit’s her

kidy/n i know u didnt just say that

user2 oooooo the girls are fighting!!

oscarpiastri i brought my camera im ready

user3 the matching captions? sus 👁️

user4 ahh the voices are winning

user5 i cant do this again with u rn

kidy/n yeah he’s not original enough to come up with his own

kidy/n omg wow!! so athletic of u!!!

logansargeant if f1 ever doesnt work out 🤨

kidy/n not padel bc i kinda crushed u on the court lol

user6 i need video evidence of this happening

logansargeant I LET YOU WIN STOP TELLING PEOPLE U CRUSHED ME

kidy/n omg how do u still look so cute sweating and all!! a true superpower imo

user7 can u fight?

kidy/n no but u can have him if u want

user8 easier than i thought

kidy/n looking for hot single ladies in ur area?

alex_albon ?

user9 pick mE choose me love me

kidy/n look no further i’m right here baby girl

alex_albon did u just call a grown ass man baby girl

lilymhe romance isn’t dead

[coco-loco-nut]

High Flyer - Part 3

pairing: charles x reader

summary: life never goes as planned, as evidenced by a phone call mid race

a/n: thank you so much for the request 🫶 its given me an idea for a fourth part too

masterlist requests open

——————————

There is nothing more that a driver looks forward to more than breaks, and you were practically counting down the days until the summer shutdown.

Not that you don’t like racing, you love racing, but you miss your bed and home in Vence, just outside of Nice. You and Charles chose the property due to its proximity to Monaco and the space to grow your family in the future. The garage space also helps with your car collection.

You started searching the property soon after your elopement, and you closed on it quickly. It even was the site where your official wedding ceremony was held, a relatively small and intimate gathering of close family and friends. The backyard made for the perfect backdrop, and it was nice to have a dinner with everyone to celebrate.

“Is that Charles? Can I say hi?” Arthur pops his head into your drivers room as you are on the phone.

“Of course, don’t take too long,” you pass off your phone, watching your brother-in-law’s face light up. Arthur hands back the phone after a couple minutes so you can finish your conversation.

“I don’t have too long left,” Charles sighs, not wanting the call to end.

“I know, deployment and F1 don’t really mesh well. Are you flying soon?” you ask, the hole in your heart growing as the end of the call gets closer.

“It will be over before we know it. I have a flight scheduled soon, training for a mission. What are you doing for break?” Charles asks, trying to get a little more conversation in and a feeble attempt to distract you from his job.

“I’ll travel with Arthur for a week, he is keeping the location a surprise, then I’m hosting the boys for a few days,” you didn’t really plan much.

“That sounds nice. My call time is almost up, I love you,” Charles says sadly.

“We will talk soon, I love you more,” the connection ends and you frown at your phone, already missing him.

“Even if he isn’t here, you have the next best thing right here,” Arthur grins and you can’t fight your smile. The two of you have grown close, you would disown your grid kids for him if necessary.

“Espressos?” you ask, needing a boost of energy.

“This isn’t Haas,” Arthur teases Ollie, who is patiently waiting for a Macchiato.

“Can’t a boy visit his grid mom?” Ollie smiles as you hug him.

“Of course, but no stealing strategies,” you say, happily taking your espresso from the barista.

The three of you chat until Ollie gets called back to Haas. As the self-proclaimed empty nester in the paddock, you enjoy when your boys stop in.

The race weekend drags on, and on, and on, until you finally get to the race. Each lap is one lap closer to your break.

A reporter noticed your eagerness for break before the race and asked you about it.

“Well, I’m no spring chicken anymore. My body and mind is looking forward to a few weeks off to relax and rejuvenate. I’m not as young as my kids are, they could probably race for a few more weeks back-to-back before needing the summer break,” you joke. Seven seasons in is a long time for motorsport, the average career in F1 is around 8 years - not that you plan on retiring any time soon. Ferrari will probably have to drag you out of Maranello when you are old and grey. Legit grey though, not Oscar and Jack joking that you have a grey hair and making you freak out.

Your manager, Nicholas, watches from the garage, standing with Arthur as they watch you closely. On lap 32 your phone begins buzzing with a call, and without really looking at the number he answers is.

“Nicholas Todd speaking for Mrs. Leclerc, how can I help you,” he answers almost robotically.

“This is an urgent message for Mrs. Leclerc regarding her husband, can she be on the phone?” A voice replies, sounding overly formal. Nicholas shifts a little nervously, glancing at the screen.

“Not at the moment,” he replies, Arthur looks at him, curious as to what’s happening. Nicholas catches sight of Arthur and hurriedly adds to his statement. “I can put you on with Mr. Leclerc’s brother,” he says, earning a satisfied response from the caller. Arthur curiously takes the phone, stepping into a quieter spot.

“Arthur Leclerc speaking,” he says a little warily.

“Good Afternoon Mr. Leclerc, your brother, Charles, has been wounded in a training incident and is currently being transported back to France for recovery,” Arthur listens carefully as the necessary details are conveyed.

“I will pass the message along to Charles’ wife, will you be notifying our mother?” Arthur asks, receiving confirmation of the next people that will be notified. As the call ends, Arthur’s mind kicks into crisis mode.

“What was the issue?” Nicholas asks, watching as you have a stellar overtake for P3.

“Charles is wounded, he’s being evacuated for recovery,” Arthur does his best not to panic. He knows that Charles must be okay for it to just be a phone call, but he can’t help but worry. It doesn’t help that you are none the wiser as you drive.

“Shit. Do you think we should pass the information along to her now?” Nicholas also goes into crisis management mode.

“No, she’d want to pull out of the race and it’s almost over. I’ll talk to the team, book the earliest flight back to Nice that you can,” Arthur instructs before searching for the PR team so they can get you out of media duties. Fred is his next stop, catching the team principal as soon as the race ends.

“I can’t get her out of the podium, but I can make sure she gets out of everything else,” Fred promises, sending Arthur on his way to intercept you.

“Great drive,” Arthur smiles as he hugs you.

“Thanks,” you eye him warily. “Something is off, what are you hiding?”

“Something happened, Charles is fine, I will tell you more about the call after the podium,” Arthur says, sending your mind in a spin.

“What happened?” you press, heart rate rising. Arthur walks with you to the cooldown room.

“I don’t know exactly, he’s injured but he’s okay. I promise I will tell you more right after the podium. Nicholas is rebooking our flights now and Fred is getting you out of the post-podium duties,” Arthur tries to soothe you. You feel a little numb as your brain tries to process everything without panicking.

“He’s okay?”

“It wouldn’t have been a phone call if it were serious,” Arthur says, trying to reassure himself too.

It seems to be enough for you to mask your worry with a nod.

“Meet me in my drivers room after the podium,” your voice is a little shaky as you part from Arthur. You feel numb throughout the ceremony, leaving as soon as champagne starts to be sprayed.

“I called Maman and booked a hotel near the base, our flights have been successfully updated,” Arthur says as you get back.

“Thank you,” you pull him into a tight hug.

“What are brothers for?” Arthur says, melting into your hug a little. You’ve never gotten ready to leave the paddock so quickly or packed a hotel room, but you soon find yourself on a plane back to Nice.

Pascale awaits the two of you at the airport, a coffee in her hand for you. You didn’t sleep on the flight at all. Even though that you know Charles is okay, you can’t fight the anxiety and fear the courses through you.

“Hi sweetheart,” Pascale hugs you after handing you the coffee.

“Wow, I thought I was your favorite child?” Arthur jokes, earning an eye roll from Pascale.

“I love all my biological children equally, I just happen to love Y/n more,” Pascale says cheekily, making you chuckle.

“Don’t let Enzo and Charlotte hear that,” you say, happily taking a seat in the car. Arthur sits in the back with you since Lorenzo is in the front seat.

“It’s a party in here,” Arthur smiles, trying to liven up the car.

“Phenomenal drive,” Lorenzo looks back at you.

“Thanks,” your tired smile is enough to end the conversation. The gentle sway of the vehicle as Pascale is enough to make you fall asleep.

As you are asleep, Arthur gets a text from Charles letting him know that he’s back on base. Arthur sends back a picture of you sleeping against the window, cozy in one of Charles’ hoodies, as well as when you will be there to visit. Your phone buzzes with a good night and congratulations text from Charles, but you don’t stir. The exhaustion of the day hit you hard and you couldn’t fight it any longer.

Arthur carries you to your hotel room while Lorenzo and Pascale worry about the luggage.

You wake up to sun peeking through the blinds. Arthur is sprawled out on the queen bed beside yours, lightly snoring into the pillow. You turn and see your phone plugged in on the nightstand. Scrolling through your notifications you see the text from Charles. A smile tugs at your lips as you quickly fire off a reply. An alarm starts going off, making you jump a little.

“No,” Arthur groans, barely conscious while pressing snooze. Silently you get out of bed, finding your suitcase and retrieving everything you need for a shower.

The hour creeps by as you anxiously meet up with the family and go to the base. Following the directions, you make your way to the hotel room Charles is being kept in for the moment. As you reach the door, the sterile environment surrounding you, you feel a wave of nerves consume you. Almost like you are a little kid.

“Go ahead, I need a second,” you whisper to Pascale who gently squeezes your hand and offers an understanding smile.

“It’s scary, we will be inside waiting for you,” Pascale says, entering behind Lorenzo and Arthur. “Y/n will be here in a moment, she had to take a call,” Pascale buys you time. She knows how scary it is seeing the person you love hurt. You let your heart rate settle before stepping into the room, watching Charles’ face light up when he sees you.

“Mon ange,” Charles whispers as you lean in to kiss him.

“You aren’t allowed to scare me like that,” you smile, a tear threatening to escape.

“Now you know how I feel when you drive,” Charles replies, reaching up and pushing back a piece of hair.

“I feel like we are intruding,” Lorenzo jokes. Charles awkwardly shifts to the side of the bed, pulling you down with him. Pascale creates an excuse that involves them stepping out for a moment, giving you and Charles a quiet moment alone.

“Hey, I’m here. I’m alive and well,” Charles grabs your hand, pressing it to his heart.

“I know, it just isn’t what you want to hear first thing after a race,” you feel yourself relax as you rest your head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat reassuring.

“I think I might leave after my commitment,” Charles admits softly, drawing your eyes up to him.

“Next year?”

“I want to be with you, help build our future, maybe even be a stay at home dad one day,” Charles runs a hand through your hair.

“I could always hire you to be my private jet pilot,” you suggest.

“But then I couldn’t be with you mid flight,” Charles winks, making you flush.

“Cheeky,” you lightly nudge him.

“Let’s not worry about what I will do career wise yet,”

“My full time WAG,” you chuckle, letting out a sigh of content when Charles pulls you close.

“When I get discharged today I can go home and recover. I just have to do paperwork remotely and come back for medical appointments,” Charles reveals, drawing your eyes back up to him.

“Really? Is it wrong to say that I’m glad it’s summer break?” you ask, hand moving up to play with the ends of his hair.

“No, it is nice to be home with you,” Charles agrees. He leans down and you tilt your head up so your lips can meet his in a soft kiss. Charles lets out a soft groan of content as his mind wanders to the few weeks ahead of you while he heals.

“We brought food,” Arthur breaks your quiet conversation. The rest of the morning is spent eagerly awaiting discharge. When you do eventually get home, Pascale helps to get Charles settled while Lorenzo cooks dinner. You and Arthur prep the guest rooms so they can stay the night.

“Sorry you had to cancel the trip,” you apologize to Arthur who just shrugs as he puts the pillowcase on a pillow.

“That’s okay, we can go during the next break. I think I’ll go back to Monaco for a bit then come back here when the boys get here,” Arthur says, not fussed about missing the trip.

“I’ll let you settle in,” you leave the room, going to your own so you can change into sweatpants and a hoodie.

Charles beat you to it, you open the door to see him shirtless with sweatpants sitting low on his hips. You catch yourself staring hungrily until you snap out of it.

“Sit back down on the bed, how are you even standing without crutches,” you chastise him, closing the bedroom door behind you before crossing the room.

“Putting my weight on one leg works well enough,” Charles grins, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you towards him.

“Well you shouldn’t be doing that when you just had surgery on the ankle,” you frown, trying not to look at your ridiculously hot husband in front of you. His hands slip under your shirt, traveling up your back. Shivers run down your spine as one hand slides forward.

“Hmm, well maybe I should just lay down then and let you do the work,” Charles murmurs huskily, as you glance at the door.

“We’d have to be quick,” you reply quietly.

“5 months without you, I’m pretty sure I can be quick,” he smiles, letting you take over. His rough hands gliding across your skin as you straddle his waist.

“I guess we should rejoin them before they get suspicious,” Charles sighs, pressing a kiss to your head as you snuggle into his side.

“I guess so, but tomorrow afternoon we will have the whole house to ourselves,” you grin, rolling away to throw comfy clothes back on.

“I can’t wait,” Charles pulls on the hoodie that you tossed to him as well as some shorts.

“Use the crutches,” you narrow your eyes as he stands up, likely planning on just hopping to the kitchen.

“Or I could use you as my support,” Charles takes the crutches from you. You glance down at the cast encompassing his ankle.

“Are your feet cold?” you frown, brows furrowed with worry.

“I’m okay, if something hurts you will be the first to know. I promise,” Charles tries to ease your worry. You nod as there is a knock on the bedroom door.

“Dinner is ready kids,” Pascale says as you open the door.

“Thank you, Maman. We were about to come down,” Charles answers before you can.

“Take it easy,” you stress. The first two weeks are important to recovery and you know he isn’t great at sitting still. Pascale watches you fuss and she feels her heart warm at how careful you are with each other.

“Took you long enough,” Arthur says, mouth half full. Lorenzo fights a laugh as Pascale scolds him.

“We were busy,” Charles smirks. You whip your head towards him, smacking his shoulder.

“Charles,” you gasp, voice a mix of scolding and being scandalized.

“What?” he says innocently as you sit at the table.

“Enough, let’s enjoy this meal,” Pascale says, taking in the sight of all her children minus Charlotte.

“Oh, I have the perfect bottle of wine for this, I’ll be right back,” you quickly stand up, going to find the bottle.

“So when am I getting a grandchild?” Pascale looks at her three boys with a raised brow. Arthur chooses that moment to closely study the rug beneath the oak table.

“This decor is quite nice, I like that vase,” Arthur says.

“Charlotte and I aren’t even married yet,” Lorenzo protests, turning the attention to Charles.

“Buying our home was the first step, but we are waiting for Y/n to at least win the championship first,” Charles shrugs.

“Doesn’t she have a good lead right now?” Lorenzo asks, a smile smile playing on Charles face.

“Is she? I had no idea,” he says slyly.

“She could probably drive for the first few months of pregnancy,” Arthur interjects, feeling left out.

“If she has the smoothest pregnancy ever that is,” Pascale adds.

“Alright, let’s not rush it that soon. We will discuss it over winter break,” Charles shuts it down.

“Discuss what over winter break?” you ask, holding a bottle of wine and four glasses in your hands.

“When you and Charles are going to have a kid,” Arthur answers first as you sit down.

“Ah. Yes, no plans of being pregnant mid-season. Not really keen on missing a whole season either,” you say, pouring the wine.

“Where’s mine?” Charles asks as everyone gets a glass but him.

“No wine with your medicine, mon amour,” you tell him.

“We don’t even need to be here, you have his care handled,” Lorenzo chuckles.

“He will be locked down,” you joke.

The night passes quick and soon you and Charles are home alone for the first time in a long time. You take the opportunity to get in a run while Charles takes a nap, but when you get home he is in the kitchen.

“Hey, I’m making us lunch,” Charles greets you as you pull off your headphones.

“Yum. I’m going to take a quick shower then I’ll be back,” you say, eager to clean the sweat off you.

The two of you quickly fall into a routine. Charles for the most part rests, keeping his ankle propped, but he does occasionally join you in the gym to keep active a bit. He also does his best to help you clean and prep the house for the group of guys who are crashing your home.

“All of our privacy, gone so fast,” Charles pouts while you make a bed.

“I know, it’s only for a few days though,” you try and find the bright side. Summer break is passing quickly and a part of you doesn’t want to race again just yet.

“I have a meeting with my commander tomorrow morning,” Charles says. You pause, the white sheet in your hand going taught as your hand grips it tighter.

“What about?”

“I’m not sure, maybe about the medical check yesterday,” Charles plays it cool, but you can hear the concern in his voice.

You shove the sheet under the bed, making it slightly more aggressive than before. “You don’t think-“

“It’s possible. The check went well, I’m making progress healing, but I will still have to go through PT and make other clearances for fly again. I still have three months of recovery and some more physical therapy on top of that,” Charles says.

“But you’d still have time left in your commitment,”

“I know, I just need to be ready for anything they may say,” Charles sighs.

“I’m right by your side, whatever happens,” you take his hand. Charles gives you a small smile, heart swelling at the support.

“Thank you, mon ange. Now, tell me all about how you are going to win this year,” you finish making the bed and sit down on the edge. Charles sits beside you, hand sliding down your palm to interlock your fingers.

“I’m trying not to think about it or really speak on it. I feel like the past few years it’s been like a dangling carrot, just out of reach. I want it so bad but I’m so nervous that I won’t get it,” you admit, feeling like a bit of weight is off your shoulders. It doesn’t help that you haven’t signed a contract yet for the next year and beyond.

“You are the best driver I know. You are persistent and resilient, you have worked so hard to get to this point. If you don’t win your fans will still love you just the same as they will when you do win and I will love you even more regardless of the outcome,” Charles returns your support. You feel the warmth of his free hand brush away a stray tear on your cheek.

“There is no one else that I want to go through life with other than you,” your voice breaks slightly, thick with emotion.

“I feel the same way. I love you more and more every day,” Charles leans closer to you, a feeling from deep within telling him that everything will be okay.

[leclerc-s]

paint the town red - part twelve

IT'S BEEN A LONG TIME COMING

series masterlist

MONZA 2024

scuderiaferrari posted new stories

local german spotted in the paddock!! well, look who the iceman dragged in STOP STEALING MY PHONE TO TAKE PICTURES YOU KNOCK-OFF ONE DIRECTION!! clearly these guys are hard at work before quali today. scores polo position, begs bianca for her phone, sends me this and says, 'let the people know i'm ecstatic to have pole position.' who's man is this??

there is anticipation in the air. the city of monza is thick with excitement, the possibility of their drivers not only winning the race as a 1-2 but also becoming constructor champions at their home race is amazing. it’s a sense of excitement the tifosi haven’t felt since monza 2019, back when their current championship leader, won their home race. however, no one is more charles and carlos. charles is on pole once again, carlos right behind him with max and oscar behind them, it’s another ferrari front row lockout, but this time it’s at monza, their home race.

charles had been smiles all around, laughing and joking with his fellow drivers, he wasn’t nervous anymore, he’d lost the nerves after winning monaco. carlos also had lost the nerves after winning his home race in spain. they were confident and probably a little cocky, but with the lead they had in the championship, it would only be a matter of time before they won, it just wouldn’t be as special if they won anywhere else but monza. 

much like monaco, the avengers could be spotted in the paddock throughout the entirety of the weekend. everywhere you glanced there was an avenger there, dressed to the nines and in red, showing their support for ferrari. but the true stars like always were charles and carlos. however, the arrival of a certain former ferrari driver sparked even more chaos than anyone else ever could. kimi räikkönen was spotted in the ferrari garage, sparking much conversation because the beloved iceman was missed around the paddock.

once again, will buxton was walking through the garage area when an avenger was caught waving at will, this time the culprit was none other than steve rogers. behind him were the ever bickering duo of sam and bucky. 

“mr. rogers, a pleasure to be seeing you here at monza.” will greeted. steve smiled at him, “mr. rogers makes me sound old, i’m only a 104 will. steve will do just fine.”

will laughed, “well, steve, how are you liking monza so far?” 

“it’s been great,” steve began, “the energy here is just unbelievable. i thought the craziest it would get was monaco, but i was wrong.” 

“did you enjoy monaco? it was quite the chaotic race, not for ferrari of course. they had a calm race.”

“oh yes, it was very fun and entertaining. i wasn’t much of a formula 1 guy before all of this, it was after my time the first time around. but when i met tony he used to require no one bother him on race weekends, bianca always joined him, it was like their thing.” 

“are you liking the sport so far? any complaints?” 

“no, none from me personally. i heard the fans get annoyed when one person or one team starts winning it all so i suspect they’ll start complaining after this. as for liking the sport, yes, it’s very entertaining once you understand how everything works.”

“any doubts from the team today?” will asked, hoping to get some information out of him. steve shook his head, “they’re pretty confident they can win today. i know, like most race weekend when max is starting behind charles, they feel a bit of pressure, but they’ve got this. the car’s good, the drivers are confident.” 

“so they’re definitely winning this?” 

“of course,” steve answered, “not a doubt in my mind about it.” 

“very well, it was nice speaking to you steve,” will said, as he departed. 

“bye will,” steve replied. he rapidly turned around, beginning to scold sam and bucky. which the cameras caught, one of the commentators making a joke about it. 

inside the ferrari garage the team stood in a semi circle, sebastian being the last to join them. the closer they got the race, the more the nerves seemed to actually appear. sebastian took a look at his team, “we’ve got this.” 

“we do,” bianca agreed. the shared a quick embrace before parting ways. charles turned to bianca, “another bet?” 

bianca groaned, “no, no more betting.”

“it’s kind of a tradition now,” he joked. 

“fine,” bianca said, “one last bet, what do you want?” 

“if i win this, and we become constructors champions today, you have to tell your dad.”

“what? do you have a death wish?”

“he won’t kill me,” charles replied, “he likes me too much.”

“i’ll think about it,” bianca answered, “now, shut up and listen to what i have to tell you.” 

“yes, madame,” the two laughed, failing to notice a gossiping joaquin and scott. 

“they’re totally dating,” scott told joaquin. joaquin nodded in agreement, “i wonder how long they can keep this up for?” 

“not long,” scott replied, “bianca is not that great of a secret keeper. she’s bound to slip up sooner or later.”

the two of them shut up as sam and bucky approach them, the race 20 minutes away from starting. charles steps away from bianca as the team begins taking the car out of the garage and towards the race track. he exchanges a nod with bianca before joining the rest of the grid for the national anthem. as soon as it was over he went to talk for a moment with carlos before he was being ushered to get into the car.

"radio check," bianca said.

"do you think we can play a song when we win? like the lady gaga one again?" charles questioned. bianca laughed, "we'll see."

the moments before the lights went out were the most nerve wracking moment's of charles life. despite telling everyone he wasn't nervous and tricking himself into believing the nerves were gone for good, he was lying. but he moment those lights were out he was gone. carlos was left behind fighting max for p2 as oscar was shown to sneak around both of them and gain the upperhand. on lap 3 carlos was finally able to get away from max, and his fight with oscar began. it would only be a matter of time before he caught up with oscar but for now oscar was gone.

apparently catching oscar would be easier said than done, but a pit stop error from mclaren gave carlos the advantage that he needed. when he came out of the pits oscar was now fighting max for that final podium position. in the penultimate lap of the race, with charles and carlos ahead of them oscar and max continued to fight u til they achieve a photo finish. unfortunately for the reigning world champion, oscar came out on top for the race.

"it seems fitting that here, in monza, the home of ferrari, where they bleed rosso corsa, that ferrari is crowned the constructor champion of the 2024 season! for the first time since 2008 ferrari is constructor champions! charles leclerc and carlos sainz bring home another 1-2 for the scuderia.”

the camera pans to the the ferrari crew as they erupt into screams and begin jumping for joy. at the pit lane bucky barnes and sam wilson run across the pitlane, grabbing sebastian vettel and hoisting him onto their shoulders, as they parade the man up and down the lane. they stop in front of the red bull garage, both soldiers stop for a brief moment, flipping off the red bull crew who could only laugh, a visibly upset christian horner is shown for a moment. joaquin torres and peter parker are seen grabbing tony stark and throwing the man into the air, all he can do is laugh.

but the real stars, charles and carlos are basking in their win. the two cars came to stop at their rightful places in the parc ferme. charles jumps out of his car first, he jumps on top of it as carlos does the same. the two drivers turn to look at each other before running and enveloping each other in a hug. together they rush at their team, who welcome them with open arms. both of them hug their engineers tightly, before rushing to get weighted. charles is the first to spot oscar, he shakes the other drivers hand as oscar congratulates him.

before he can say anything else, david coulthard is pulling oscar away for his interview. carlos follows after him, with a brief congrats from oscar. charles is last one to go for his interview before all three drivers were being ushered to the cool down room.

charles turns to oscar, “i thought you were behind me?”

oscar shakes his head, “i lost a position after my pit stop. there was some kind of mistake and it was too late to catch up with carlos. i came out right in front of max.”

“i couldn’t catch you,” carlos tells the aussie. oscar smiles a bit, “you were too busy fighting with max.”

the three drivers turn to the screen, checo’s car is seen fighting with a williams, carlos looks confused, “is that logan or alex?”

“logan,” oscar answered, “he was starting p10 this race.”

“he’s doing better, no?” charles asked. oscar nodded, “he was close to a podium a while back in canada.”

“he’ll get it one day,” charles said, rather optimistically. with the way the season had been going, full of surprises, it was only a matter of time before logan got his podium.

“i hope so,” oscar whispered. he knew his american friend and been longing to get that podium in formula 1. it was his way of proving everyone wrong.

will buxton approaches tony, before the podium ceremony, he’s got both arms around harley and bianca. bianca is holding morgan in her arms. the little girl looking at everything in wonder while harley is bicker with peter. tony notices will and smiles at him.

“tony, bianca, harley, any words to the fans?” will asks.

"this win is not just for us," tony begins, "it's for every single tifosi who waited and hoped that one day we would be constructors champions again. but this is also for the other drivers who were let down by ferrari in the past. kimi, felipe, fernando, this is for you! forza ferrari!"

“it’s just,” harley began, “it’s incredible to be able to do this in front of our home crowd, it’s so special. we’re so thankful they had faith in us to be able to do this.”

“holy shit,” bianca softly says, “it was always a dream, to be able to do this, to see ferrari do this. i don’t think there are any words to describe what we as a team feel having won this after so many years.”

the screams are deafening as carlos runs up to the podium. he waves at the crowd, seamingly amplifying the cheers. charles is called up next to the podium and it seems like the cheers grow louder. charles stands on his spot at the podium, as he looks down at the crowd below, where his team is, winking at them, or rather someone. the person on stage is ferrari’s beloved team principal, sebastian vettel. he smiles brightly, at his two drivers, the crowd below chanting his name.

the national anthems begin, causing it to go silent for a moment as the monégasque anthem begins. charles smiles brightly, hearing his anthem play in monza again. the anthem switches to the italian anthem and all hell breaks loose. all around them the crowd sings the anthem, as their team sings along. all three ferrari members turn to look at each other mounting the words of the italian anthem, before looking back at the crowd.

as each of the drivers get handed their trophies, the crowd’s energy shifts.

oscar raises up his trophy to his team, a group of papaya drowned out by a sea of red, but everyone cheers for him regardless. carlos holds up his trophy, as the sounds are amplified. charles receives his next and throws it up in the air, before holding it out to the tifosi and his team. the last one to receive the trophy is seb, he takes and waits a moment before showing it to the crowd. the screams grow louder, if that was even possible.

when the time comes, all three drivers, as if in agreement, turn to drown seb with champagne. the team principal laughs before they all turn to the crowd below. after pictures, seb grabs the trophy, running to the front of the stage, where he holds it out, one last time, and the screams are deafening. it had been a long time coming but ferrari has finally done it, they were finally constructors champions.

liked by sebastianvettel, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others

scuderiaferrari 2024 constructor world champions. we fucking did it! to our beloved tifosi, this is for you. your years of patience have paid off, we are so back.

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

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harleykeener YEAH BABY! THAT'S HOW YOU MAKE A COMEBACK!

username i never thought i'd live to see the day! OH MY GOD!

username oh these guys are going to be so fucking hungover tomorrow

peterparker LET'S FUCKING GO! FORZA FERRARI!

biancastark_potts FUCK EVERYONE WHO THOUGHT WE COULDN'T DO IT!

↳ username oh yeah, these guys are so drunk. where's isaiah when you need him?

charles_leclerc WE DID IT BABY!! LET'S GO!!

isaiah_atkins VICTORY HAS NEVER FELT SO SWEET!

↳ username apparently he's as drunk as them.

arthur_leclerc YEAH! SCREW RED BULL! WE DID IT!

↳ username oh boy, they're all going to regret this tomorrow

liked by pierregasly, landonorris, harryosborn and others

peterparker PARTY ROCKERS IN THE HOUSE TONIGHT! (i have no memory of what occurred last night, yes we all partied together.)

tagged: michellejones, yelenabelova, katebishop, biancastark_potts, joaquintorres, pierregasly, francesca.cgomes, georgerussell63, fernandoalo_oficial, harleykeener, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, isaiah_atkins, ririwilliams, landonorris, oscarpiastri, logansargeant, alex_albon, lilymhe, lewishamilton, danielricciardo, yukitsunoda0511, arthur_leclerc, olliebearman, americachavez, estebanocon, mickschumacher, lancestroll

user has restricted comments

📍peterparker not pictured is yuki and pierre's horrible karaoke, isaiah falling on his ass, yelena punching a guy who flirted with her, riri outdrinking max, logan and oscar taking a nap in the middle of the club, alex and george almost making out, lewis trying to get a dancing kate off a table, charles for some reason, and many others.

↳ pierregasly he disappeared in the middle of the party and came back like an hour later?

↳ charles_leclerc lies and slander!

samwilson is that bianca? making out with someone?

↳ peterparker huh i guess it is.

↳ katebishop that is obviously the boyfriend you idiots.

yelenabelova is that why there's blood on my shirt?

↳ alex_albon you are one scary lady. you knocked him out.

↳ yelenabelova good, you should fear me.

biancastark_potts oh my god, what the hell happened last night?

↳ americachavez apparently too much and too little at the same time.

yukitsunoda you guys should throw more parties if it means free alcohol paid for by tony stark.

↳ tonystark YOU PEOPLE PAID WITH MY CARD?

↳ harleykeener duh? you're a billionaire, you can handle it.

ririwilliams i have never been more proud of myself.

↳ katebishop you built your own iron man suit from scratch?

↳ ririwilliams and? i outdrank max verstappen! that's not something a lot of people say they can do.

↳ maxverstappen1 she's right! be proud of yourself riri!

harryosborn oh, i'm sure you guys had fun.

bianca groaned as she pulled her phone away from her face, charles laying beside her laughed. bianca turned to look at him, "this isn't funny."

"it's hilarious mon amour," charles said through giggles. bianca rolled her eyes, as she sat up, "sure, my dad demanding to know who i'm kissing in peter's post is hilarious."

charles laughed again and as bianca moved to get up charles pulled her back, "you have to tell him."

"i will," bianca promised, "i just have to figure out when."

charles nuzzled his face into her neck, "go back to sleep."

both of their phones buzzed at the same time, a text from harley. bianca grabbed her phone first, sitting up as she read harley's text, charles groaned, "no, come back."

"shit," bianca said as she began running around the room. charles sat up, "what is it?"

"harry told my dad. we have less than five minutes before he shows up."

charles sat up, "why is this bad? i thought you wanted to tell him? are you embarrassed of me?"

bianca stopped, pulling her shirt over head, shaking her head rapidly, "i'm not, i promise. i just, i wanted to tell him when i wanted too, not when someone else decided to tell him. with harry, my dad found out because of norman. i never got an opportunity to do things right."

"okay," charles said, pulling a shirt over his head. bianca kissed his forehead, causing charles to pout, "i think you missed."

bianca laughed, but pressed a quick kiss to his lips, charles seemed ready to protest when both of them froze, a voice coming from the otherside of the door, "LECLERC!"

"oh shit," bianca whispered.

"LECLERC OPEN THIS DOOR! AND YOU! BIANCA MARIA STARK-POTTS BETTER NOT BE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR WITH HIM!" TONY SHOUTED.

"fuck," the couple whispered.

series taglist: @burningcupcakefire @spilled-coffee-cup @evans-dejong @elliegrey2803 @bingewatche @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @ironspdy @mypage-myfandoms @be-your-coffee-pot @vellicora @enchantedthoughts @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @six-call @embrosegraves @justtprachisblog @bionic-donut @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @int3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @skynel09 @arieltwvdtohamflash @brekkers-whore @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @chiliwhore @nothaqks @nataliambc @prongsvault @georgeparisole @kailyn-g05 @bella-1 @butterfly-lover @emilyval1 @winchesterwife27 @namgification @octopussesarecool @jensonsonlybutton

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¡leclerc-s speaks! ooh, a cliffhanger dun, dun, dun! harry's such an ass, can't believe i wrote him to be like that. bianca and charles are so american coded. i stand by what i said.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[more-mara]

Annnnnnd Babe now we’re going to need younger Carlos and older Oscar doing nastyyyyyy 😹 but just thinking abt it tho the way older Carlos says older Osc is so demanding these days imagine they just done third round and older Oscar hands creep up again and young Carlos is like (insert confused Carlos pic) ??????? didn’t know F1’s ice man is this insatiable?

Older Oscar truly is, for lack of a better descriptor, a sex demon. Genuinely insatiable and poor Carlos simply can’t keep up with him (both 2024 Carlos and older Carlos).

NSFW BELOW

Younger Carlos being shocked that Oscar is constantly demanding to ride him, manhandling him into the position he wants, coaching Carlos through how he likes to be fucked and basically just doing all the work (which he’s not used to because younger Oscar is a bit of a pillow princess who just wants Carlos to take control).

Vs older Carlos and his back problems struggling to give Oscar what he wants. Oscar who is always wanting to go at it for hours on end, coming more time than either of them can count but older Carlos physically cannot do that anymore and even one orgasm takes it out of him. Oscar sometimes jokes that Carlos has aged twice as quickly because despite there only being like 6 years between them, Carlos is the only one who is properly suffering from the consequences of aging.

Older Oscar loves having sex again the morning after, when he’s still aching and open from the night before but Older Carlos needs at least an hour after waking up for his body to even realise he’s awake so Oscar usually just slips Carlos’ cock inside himself and grinds against it until Carlos eventually starts bucking into him when his body decides it’s ready to work properly again.

I’m getting carried away lmao

[rocketinthesky]

Feverish

a CARCAR/Carloscar one-shot | Carlos Sainz x Oscar Piastri

sickfic(?), fluff, canon compliant, ~700 words

for Sumi <33

read on ao3

It’s Carlos that notices that something’s wrong, much to Oscar’s befuddlement.

He’d been staring at Oscar the entire time when they were standing with a few other drivers, talking. Oscar had been quiet—but then again, he’s always quiet. No one else batted an eye. Even Lando, his teammate that he arguably spends the most time with apart from his trainer, hadn’t noticed anything off so Oscar thought he’d hidden it pretty well. (Although, Lando tends to not notice anything outside of his boyfriend, Franco, that he’s more than infatuated with.)

So again, Oscar’s been playing it cool, keeping a straight face, laughing at the appropriate jokes and using his own sarcasm to get some chuckles, and he thought he’d gotten away with it.

But then Carlos is backing him up against the wall at some corner between his motorhome and another, and Oscar feels a lot more faint than he already had been.

“Carlos? Wha–”

“You’re sick.” Carlos says simply, lips pressed into a hard line, arms caging him into the wall.

Oscar can’t help the way he shrinks back, a futile attempt to escape when there’s concrete and Carlos Sainz blocking off all his escape routes.

“What? No i’m not.”

Carlos rolls his eyes, unamused. “Mate, you have been sweating in 20 degree weather. And you look like a strawberry, how red your face is.”

Oscar makes an indignant noise, in spite of the little flutter in his chest at the fact that he noticed. Carlos of all people noticed, was looking at him.

When Carlos realizes that the only response he’s getting from Oscar is a scowl, he huffs out a defeated sigh, still not moving back to stop crowding Oscar into the wall, and asks, “Did you at least tell your manager?”

Oscar’s scowl melts away into a sheepish look as he averts Carlos’s look of disappointment.

It’s silent for a few more seconds before Carlos is finally pulling back. Oscar heaves out a sigh of relief, thinking he’s gonna leave him be, but then Carlos’s hand is suddenly on his wrist, fingers long and cool against his feverish skin.

“Come on. Get the medical staff to check you.”

Oscar tries to pull his wrist free from his hold but isn’t able to. “No! I’m still racing—!”

“Don’t be stubborn, rookie.”

“I’m not even a rookie anymore.” Oscar stops trying to pull his hand free from Carlos’s grip but he still throws him a dirty look. His tone sounds childish even to himself.

Carlos smirks in that stupid open-mouthed way of his, lips quirking up to one side, eyes hooded in amusement. “Okay then, big boy, let’s go and get you medicine for your fever so you can race, hm?”

Oscar’s heart jerks in his chest as he makes a strangled noise in surprise at Carlos’s words, eliciting boisterous laughter from said offender.

“Oh, fuck you.” Oscar mutters, turning his head away to stare holes into the concrete wall, Carlos’s laughter ringing in his ears as he feels his face burn.

“You are so cute when you get angry, Piastri.” Carlos says, giving his hand a tug to get him to meet his eyes.

“Shut up.” Oscar says weakly, cringing at the way his voice goes all high.

“Only if you come with me to get checked out.” Carlos raises an eyebrow, lips set on a smirk.

Oscar rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

He fails to ignore the way his heart jumps to his chest when Carlos’s smile softens and he makes a triumphant noise, his grip on Oscar’s wrist loosening but still not letting go as he leads him towards their destination.

Later, when Carlos shows up at his motorhome with a takeout container of chicken soup, Oscar’s lets him in without much of a fight.

And when Carlos ends up kissing him on the couch not half an hour later, Oscar has enough fight in him to pull back and tease, “Not afraid of getting sick yourself, mate?”

Carlos grins. “I will be alright.”

And he dives back in for another kiss.

[muldj0rd]

It's me and you now || Loscar

Summary: “What’s bothering you, Loges?” Oscar asked softly, emerging from the small bathroom after having a quick shower

“He isn’t even that pretty” Logan scoffed, tapping his fingers against his biceps, his legs spread wide

“Mh. Lando’s the problem” Oscar hummed, pulling on a shirt

Warnings: secret relationship, top Logan, bottom Oscar, jealous Logan, possessive Logan, drivers room sex, thigh grinding, coming in pants

Masterlist || AO3

Logan wasn’t in f1 anymore, sure, but Oscar still invited him to the garage quite a lot

It’s surprising that nobody had figured out they were dating yet

They had told a couple of people, but one of them were not Lando, which was evident when he started flirting with Oscar in the garage just before qualifying

Logan watched the two, observing how Oscar was obviously uncomfortable, but also having a hard time saying no- especially towards Lando

Logan clenched his jaw slightly. Logan wasn’t jealous per se, but… When it came to Lando, he was more jealous- I mean, who wouldn’t? Lando were always so touchy with Oscar, so Logan didn’t see why he shouldn’t be jealous

---

Logan sat in Oscar’s drivers room after qualifying, his arms crossed over his chest, frowning

“What’s bothering you, Loges?” Oscar asked softly, emerging from the small bathroom after having a quick shower

“He isn’t even that pretty” Logan scoffed, tapping his fingers against his biceps, his legs spread wide

“Mh. Lando’s the problem” Oscar hummed, pulling on a shirt

“Why can’t we tell him? I want that fucker to know you’re mine” Logan looked up at Oscar, his expression firm

“Watch how you speak. You might get community service” Oscar joked, walking over to Logan “You know I’m yours, baby” He hummed, straddling Logan’s thighs, pushing his legs together

“Yeah, but I want him to know too so he can back the fuck off” Logan’s hands settled on Oscar’s ass, squeezing him softly, making the Aussie whimper quietly

“You know I can’t tell him” Oscar sighed softly when Logan started placing kisses around his neck and throat

“I’ll fucking show him then” Logan chuckled low before tugging Oscar at his hair softly, sucking on to his neck

“Logan” Oscar whined softly, his arms holding around Logan’s neck “Loges, I have to drive tomorrow, we can’t”

“Don’t have to, baby” Logan chuckled, moving his mouth to suck onto other spots on Oscar’s neck and throat

“I-I need to…” Oscar panted, his hips slowly grinding against Logan’s thigh

“Mhm. I know, baby” Logan leaned back, looking up at Oscar, biting his bottom lip softly, helping Oscar move his hips

Oscar moaned softly when he ground against Logan’s thigh just right

Logan’s name fell off of Oscar’s tongue like a prayer- until they heard Lando’s door open and close, meaning Lando had walked into the room

Oscar covered his mouth with his hand, knowing Lando could hear him if he didn’t

“No, no. None of that, baby” Logan chuckled, removing Oscar’s hand, pressing his hips further down against his thigh, making him moan loudly

“Fuck, Loges. Please, don’t” Oscar begged quietly “It’s so embarrassing if everyone hears” He whimpered softly

“Don’t really give a fuck” Logan hummed “You’re mine, and I’m gonna make sure everyone knows” He almost growled, moving Oscar at a faster and harder pace, Oscar moaning louder and louder the further he got to his orgasm

“My name, baby” Logan smacked Oscar’s ass softly

“Logan” Oscar moaned out, his hands digging into Logan’s shoulders

“That’s it, baby” Logan chuckled softly, hearing Lando put on loud music to cover their sounds “Look like he got the message”

“Fucking idiot” Oscar moaned into Logan’s neck, his body shaking slightly at how close he were to the edge

“You love me anyways” Logan chuckled, hands digging into Oscar’s hips

“Mhm. F-fuck, fuck. Logan” Oscar moaned; the only warning Logan got before Oscar came into his briefs, his body shaking and his breathing heavy

“Lando is actually kind pretty” Oscar panted into Logan’s neck, earning him a soft smack on the ass, causing him to yelp softly “But you know I prefer blonds” He chuckled, kissing Logan softly on the neck

“We’re not 13 anymore, you didn’t have to mark me” Oscar whined softly, leaning back to look down at Logan

“Don’t pretend like you don’t love it” Logan hummed, kissing softly over one of the hickeys

[fxrmuladaydreams]

When they laughed, it made his heart swell. They would throw their head back nearly every time, as if it was the funniest joke in the world. He loved to watch the joy take over their features. It was like their laugh melted away all the bad things. His favorite part of their laughter, however, was how their hand would always land on his arm. It would linger on his skin as they giggled, sending fireworks through him.

With Oscar’s weekend

!! oscar weekend requests are now closed !!

i hope this is good, i always find it so hard to describe oscar’s personality/sense of humor because it’s so specific

It took people a while to understand Oscar. Oftentimes he was claimed to be reserved, a calm and serious driver. Some people even said he had a “stale” personality.

To be fair, he is a bit quiet, you could even say introverted, until he becomes comfortable around someone. Working at McLaren has helped a bit, what with working with one of the more extroverted drivers on the grid.

Lando practically yanks Oscar out of his shell, poking fun at him, making the Australian fight back with his own witty remarks, ending in both drivers in a fit of giggles.

He’s warmed up to the rest of the McLaren group over the last season, but one team member in particular was able to pull his attention to them whenever they walked in the room.

He met you during his rookie season, while he was still getting used to being an F1 driver. You always gave him a smile when you saw him, and quietly wished him luck before races. You had joined McLaren at the same time he did, as a part of their social media team. He felt more at ease knowing he wasn’t the only new person on the team.

It took a little while for him to gather the courage to actually speak to you. His quiet “hi”s turned into brief conversations about your day or his which then turned into seeking each other out in the garage.

You were always happy to be told you’d get to spend the day with Oscar, following him around while filming a new Unboxed video. You’d grown attached to the younger driver over the last year. You enjoyed spending time with him, probably more than a coworker should. You couldn’t help it though, he made it impossible to not want to be near him.

You loved his quick wit and his sarcastic comments. You knew that there weren’t many people who could fully understand his sense of humor, but you were glad to indulge him, listening to him make his comments about the race or other drivers, things he would never say in front of a camera or over the radio, to you.

It wasn’t meant to actually happen at first. He thought he was being quiet enough that no one could hear him as he mumbled to himself, unzipping his race suit so it hangs around his hips. Even in the loud garage though, he still hears it. He hears your laughter ringing through the machinery. He looks up to see you looking at him. You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to hide your laughter.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear anything, I promise.” You tell him, still trying to hide your smile.

Oscar thinks he must be dreaming. He swears he’s never heard a sound as beautiful as your laughter, and he decides then and there that he will do anything he can to keep hearing that sound.

He finds you after races now, and brings you to his driver’s room, somewhere you can have your own little “debrief”. He lets you talk about your work during the weekend, listening intently whether he had been with you during the weekend or not, then he tells you about his driving over the weekend.

He’s found that you tend to laugh more when he keeps his words unfiltered, when he truly says what he wants to, uncaring of how he sounds. He makes snarky remarks about the way Carlos drives, or about how he and Lando are talking about paying each other to crash into Max, and he’s gifted with your laughter.

He feels his face flush as you throw your head back, not hiding your face from him anymore. Your hand lands on his arm, softly squeezing his bicep as you try to catch your breath.

“You can’t crash into Max!” You get out in between breaths. “You’ll have all of the Netherlands at your throat!”

He smiles at you, his grin matching yours.

“Not if I make it look like an accident.” He shrugs, sending you into another fit of laughter.

You shake your head once you’ve calmed down. “No, Oscar Piastri is too good a driver to make mistakes like that.”

He ducks his head down, attempting to hide the blush on his cheeks.

“Lando Norris on the other hand…”

Oscar lets out a laugh of his own, leaning into you.

[f0point5]

You know, I love Seb (he’s the person who got me into F1) and I respect Lewis and his accomplishments but one thing I’ll never forgive them (and a lot of the older drivers, most already retired now) for is how they treated Max when he came into F1.

Yes, he might have been their rival but he was also a teenager, a literal child and gosh… I know Max probably doesn’t really care anymore but I still hurt for him sometimes.

Especially when you consider that he was the one paving the way for his generation. When Charles and Lando and George and everyone else came up a few years later they were welcomed as the youth, the future of the sport. Older drivers talking about their talent and how great it is to see them come up.

Max didn’t get that. He got shouts of “too young”, “too reckless”, “too… too much”.

So no, to me the only real grid dad (or maybe grid uncle is more fitting, idk) will be Fernando Alonso who said that some people are simply ready earlier than others and that Max should be judged on his performance in the races, not his age (paraphrased).

Fernando who has been an idol a lot of the younger generation growing up but also exchanged helmets with Oscar and Zhou, joked with Lando on instagram, talks Le Mans with Max and probably many more moments I’m forgetting about rn.

THIS.

Honestly, I don’t really get the Seb hype. He just has never given me good vibes. I didn’t watch during the RB days so maybe if I’d seen his golden era I’d have gotten attached but he has just always seemed…not likeable. Clearly a very driven, straightforward, intelligent guy, but something about him doesn’t sit well with me. Anyway rant over.

I’m not even going to talk about LH because…par for the course.

Yes, they were all mean to him. As grown men, too, how are you not absolutely embarrassed?! I get that he’s a kid and maybe you don’t want to hang out with him or confront the fact that you’re not the hotshots anymore but omg it’s a CHILD. (And Seb who made a bit of a meal out of being a bullying victim as a kid…I see you.)

No one else of Max’s generation would have survived the way they treated him, I stand by that. They all needed the support they got, and Max had none of it from his peers. I can’t see Max being the type who cared per se, because he was probably already used to being…not ostracised, but like…observed? And also because of how he grew up I don’t think anyone’s words could rattle him. But even if he didn’t care the grown men should have known better.

If I were Max I’d still be laughing about how bitter I made men in their 30s. Like “I couldn’t grow facial hair and y’all were running scared”. But I still think it must have been a pretty lonely few years until others his age started catching up.

I think Max was really lucky to have such a tight team (Christian, Helmut, Jos, Ray, GP) around him to insulate him a bit and stop him getting pushed around but the way these men tried it. (Toto I’m looking at your for the Jos phonecall.)

Yeah Fernando is the only one who I think was ready to embrace the new frontier as it were. But he is just kind of like that. I feel like he doesn’t feel his age is the disadvantage that most do, and that’s why he’s not so afraid of younger drivers. Like, his relationship with Max, Carlos, lando, George (nye buddies lol) and Zhou (literally just today saw a quote of him talking about how nice Alonso was to him, even Lance, he treats them as much as peers as he does his own generation, it’s cute.

Also, this is kinda random but I swear Nico and Max were kind of friendly in the early years? Max has known Nico a long time, despite the age difference (he said he remembered glasses Nico used to wear at like 7, and Nico once went out with his mum?), Nico was on the jet with Max on his birthday in…2017? And I think there’s a picture of Max having flown with some guys (including both Nicos in 2016) and for some reason I’ve always had the idea that Hulkenberg was his link to that whole crew? (Idk if this whole friendship is a headcanon but for some reason I feel like these two are/were kinda connected)

But yeah, agree. Grown men acting like little bitches. That generation I think was the last generation with real bitterness between the drivers, though. Idk you wouldn’t catch me being a jerk to a kid but I’ve never been terrified of a kid before so 🤷‍♀️