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mv1simp · 3 months ago

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Into You ♥️

Max Verstappen x Redbull Engineer! Reader

Oh baby, look what you've started, the temperature's rising and is this gonna happen? (Been waitin' and waitin' for you to make a move)

At 27, you've just been promoted to the role of Redbull's race engineer - a very impressive feat in motorsport for a young woman. There's just one issue though - you secretly had a massive crush on the driver you're meant to be guiding, Max Verstappen. Will you make it through the season before he catches on? (You hope so because goddamn, the HR team were a nightmare to deal with.)

Content includes: fluff, humour, Max and reader are simps for each other, sexual tension, pining, drunk confessions, 3.2k WC

Recently, you'd started having some issues at work. Okay, gun to your head, you'll admit it was more like a single issue - in the shape of a very attractive, 6 foot Dutch racing driver who occasionally had problems with anger management. Sure, it didn’t sound that bad, in fact, someone else would just sit back and enjoy the eye candy the F1 paddock provided! But to truly appreciate the full depth of your embarrassing problem, one needed to unpack all the lore behind it.

After graduating from a prestigious mechanical engineering master's program, you'd been ecstatic about getting to intern at Redbull's F1 racing team, department of aerodynamic design. You'd started working at the company at a very good time, because later that year, their top driver Max Verstappen claims his first WDC at age 24 - only 6 months your junior. A very impressive feat for such a young age - as you admire him from a distance in the garage workshop. And, super hot too, you thought cheekily, whoever wifed him up was sure to be a lucky woman.

Your own hard work hadn't gone unnoticed, and many higher-ups and sponsors alike were curious to see the team who had been behind the championship winning changes to the Redbull car. You'd risen very quickly in the ranks, from intern to permanent technical engineer and then last year to to the innovative research & development department, now involved directly with calling the big shots for what each version of the car would look like and coming face to face with Max for the first time in your career with Redbull.

Unlike the other drivers, Max was genuinely curious about your design process. The way he asked questions, thoughtfully listened to your long explanations and then would give you direct feedback about the exact issues he would have in the trial runs had made you flustered, especially from the full intensity of his blue eyes. No, seriously though, Shakespeare himself would have written poetry if he'd gazed into them. The TikTok creators certainly seem to agree, with all their ocean eyes edits. Not that you had any saved. Anyways, moving on-

You were on the quieter side but Max seemed to know just how to get through to you. It meant that your team had been able to design the most dominating car in F1 history - the RB23, and paired with Max Verstappen it was an unstoppable force, almost like you made it just for me, Max had said, smiling gorgeously at you like some GQ Sports model. You stared back at him incredulously, banana choc chip muffin halfway to your mouth, cause who the hell woke up looking like that, you two were wearing identical Redbull shirts but his looked like it had been personally tailored to fit that broad muscular chest and yours was giving oversized trash bag??

Honestly, you'd hoped that working in closer proximity would humanise him more and you'd lose this silly crush of yours the moment you saw him do some icky rich white boy move. Like maybe he’d donate to Donald Trump's anti vaccine campaign or say guys 🥺 Can’t go to Ibiza this weekend the yacht staff had an emergency, got caught in some Gulf war zone or something? Idk

But when he had knocked on your apartment door when you hadn't shown up to work in two days, and found you crying because your childhood dog had just been diagnosed with terminal cancer across the other side of the world and saying I’m sorry, I know it’s not that big of a deal, I’ll come back tomorrow I promise-

And instead of laughing like you’d expected, he’d cut you off, told you to pack a bag and then driven you all the way to his personal jet. You looked into his beautiful blue eyes while he earnestly begged you to use it so you could make it in time to say goodbye to your Arlo before your parents put him down tonight. And that’s when you realised you were doomed to be hopelessly in love with the younger man. (But also, you had a serious discussion with him about the extreme greenhouse gas emissions from private jet fuel use, we only had one planet, you would be happy to just fly first class instead-)

But when your mentor Newey announced his plans to leave Redbull this year, you had planned on following him - making the exec panic at the thought of losing two of their crucial engineers. They frantically thrown random promotions at you, praying one would stick - and Redbull twitter fans breathed a sigh of relief when you took interest in the role of race engineer and stayed in the company.

You'd been excited about becoming one of Checo's engineers, having trained under the current one for the last few months. But to your horror, one day you arrived on the paddock only to be promptly sat down at a meeting along with the two drivers and be informed that they'd had to switch some things around, GP had an emergency to attend and could you pretty please fill in for the role of Max's race engineer this weekend-

NOPE. You'd announced, standing up and slamming your hands on the table, then realising that might be a touch overdramatic as everyone questioningly looked at you. Why not? Christian Horner demanded suspiciously.

Um, because he's super hot, you fool?! How is a girl meant to focus with him whispering track feels really wet today in her headphones? Were the years of self control to just admire from a distance like a loser and not jeopardise your career just a joke to him?? You don’t blink as your boss stared you down, hoping he could pick up on the thoughts that you’re trying to telepathically communicate. The table remained silent, only interrupted by the noisy slurping of Checo's boba tea. You quickly changed tactics - well, Verstappen is the winning champion, he needs an engineer who has experience working alongside him during the race-

Alas, the object of your affections threw a well intended wrench in your escape plans by adding that you were the perfect person, then, since you'd worked together for years and understood his communication style. Unless - he paused, flashing those deadly baby blues at you - unless the issue is you don't want to work with me?

You'd lasted all of three seconds under his hurt gaze before admitting defeat and accepting the role, slumping down next to him and desperately praying you'd wake up a lesbian tomorrow morning. Max continued to sneak long glances at you through the meeting, leaning around you to grab a pen and then his phone and making you jump each time his strong arm wrapped around your small frame. Across the table, Checo thoughtfully chewed on his boba as he watched you two curiously. Ah, young love.

And to no one's surprise the pair of you had made a flawless team, you expertly guiding Max as your engineer instincts took over and him actually listening to your helpful instructions without his usual aggression over the radio. And so when GP announced that his 1 week emergency was now going to be a 6 month break, sorry! - it had been all too easy for Christian Horner to bestow the honour of being Max's primary engineer onto you.

So now, here you sat, before your 4th race with Max, grimly looking on with your chin propped onto interlaced fingers, preparing yourself for his deep, sexy voice that was going to be purring in your ears very soon. The very voice that had become a recurring theme in the dreams you'd been having lately, that and also how he would bite those thick lips of his when he'd stare at you, with his cute little freckle on his top lip-

Why do you look like you're about to go to war, your intern asks bluntly, putting an end to your illicit thoughts and delivering you your triple chocolate caramel frap. Because I am, you hissed, sculling the whole thing in one go. She smirked, leaning in conspiratorially. Was this to do with how categorically down bad you are for your precious Maxie?

You proceeded to inform her that if she ever brought up how you'd drunkedly referred to him that one time, you'd have no problem abusing your authority to shaft her on tire service duty for a week. She wisely chose to leave you be in peace, taking your empty cup as she went.

Taking some meditative breaths, you focus on thinking about unsexy things. Like the hydraulics system of the current car needing to be redesigned to better incorporate-

Your thoughts are cut off a second time as another cup is deposited in front of you, this time by none other than Max himself, who's thoughtfully brought you a triple chocolate caramel frap. You stutter out your thanks, not daring to touch more caffeine currently as you already had sweaty palpitations at the sight of him looking so big and muscled in his slutty tight fireproofs. Dear God, had he no shame? They needed to bring back the Victorian era and cover him up, he was going to distract everyone (mainly you.) He frowns slightly, leaning down to your height, and informs you that you didn't have to call him Verstappen, you know, Max is fine-

Wow. And then what would come next? Maxie? And then you asking him for his hand in marriage? No, no, absolutely not - you needed to maintain strict professional boundaries or risk him catching onto your massive crush and promptly be fired. You politely informed him that for the sake of public decorum and the rabid fangirls that were watching your every move as a young female engineer in proximity to their favourite drivers, that you would refer to him as Verstappen, or Mr. Verstappen if he preferred a more formal title?

He'd pouted those lush lips of his and reluctantly agreed that just Verstappen was okay, he supposed. But he much preferred hearing you call him Max, at least when there were no cameras around? What you had done in your past life to now be forced to resist such temptation, you would never know.

So the season went on, you two continuing to be a smashing success and a very popular internet pairing. Not that you'd been paying that much attention! Just a saved TikTok edit here and there of the time Max had called you schatje over the radio after blowing up about a tire malfunction. He’d then sweetly apologised the next lap when you remained unfazed and told him to sort his shit out, babes, Leclerc was right up his ass with a tire and DRS malfunction, yeah? (Twitter had gone crazy. Who knew Max Verstappen responded so well to a 5 foot, slightly older woman giving him orders over the team radio?! You’d instantly been accepted as a replacement for the beloved GP, original gentle domTM to the Dutch driver.)

And perhaps another saved edit of the time he had protectively held you in those big, strong arms of his, guiding your tiny figure through a massive media-frenzied crowd and whispered reassurances in your ear when you couldn’t breathe properly. Or the time he’d bitten a reporter’s head off with the ferocity of a lion after he suggested that as the first female race engineer, you’d acquired your new job through your…feminine wiles.

And maybe just one of when the PR team had made you do one of those ridiculous hot lap videos with him after seeing the online response, and he'd laughed as you screamed out of fear for your life when he cruised at a cool 200km/hr. The aftermath had been brutal, as you weakly stumble out and almost fall flat on your face, only for him to easily pick you up, carrying you bridal style back towards the garage (Truly, this right here was proof God sent his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers.)

Nearing the end of the 6 month stint, when GP was due back in to resume his role as Max's race engineer, the Redbull team had decided to take a well deserved weekend trip to Verona, Italy. You’d suspiciously looked at your intern, asking why she’d selected the romantic setting of Romeo & Juliet of all places, to which she replied that just cause you’d chosen to cockblock yourself for eternity with a crush on your coworker the millionaire F1 driver, didn’t mean the rest of them couldn’t get some. Valid point, so you shut up.

So now, here you are, sitting in a romantically lit corner of a cute Italian vineyard with a small group from the engineering division, sloshed after a bottle of red wine and asking them be real, be real, you're telling me none of you have been checked out Max's ass in his fireproofs? Lies.

Across the courtyard, Lando is currently extremely unimpressed with his good friend, 3 time Championship winning, and general terror on the track Max Verstappen. That is because said friend has decided, rather pathetically, to lie on the cobblestone and drunkedly ask the stars why fate was so cruel. Seriously mate, Lando sighs, all this over a silly insta post?

Excuse you, it’s not just any insta post! Max had protested, baby tears in his eyes and face flushed from the four G&Ts he’d drunk. Pulling out his phone, he shows Lando the damning evidence of the pictures you'd uploaded from the group trip with your engineering friends. Look. LOOK. His arm is around her and she used a Lana Del Ray lyric in the caption. Do you have any idea what this means?

The Brit has to resist rolling his eyes at the melodrama unfolding in front of him. The Dutchman continues, never one to miss a chance to maxplain - as he details how it had taken him a a whole 2 months to get him to call you by his first name, and then another 2 months before you'd told him your favourite song was Summertime Sadness, and that even now if he hugged you to celebrate a win you would look like you were about to throw up and furiously speed walk away.

Lando is seriously regretting tagging along to the Redbull trip instead of Carlos's invitation to Mallorca. It was bad enough that the whole train ride Max had been on the phone begging GP to take another 6 month break so that you'd continue to be his engineer, but Lando has had his limit with this simpy pining. Taking his phone out as the maxplaining continued in the background, he shoots a text to your intern, who immediately replies, and within minutes the pair of them have hatched a conniving plan to dump you lovesick fools together while the rest of them make their way into town.

And that’s how you and Max find yourself locked inside the upstairs wine cellar, having been separately tricked with various promises from your scheming friends - only to hear the door click behind you and turn to find each other. It's very romantic and all, soft candlelight and bottles of luxurious Italian wine and a shining full moon visible from the terracotta balcony. Someone had even generously left a speaker in the courtyard, with Lana Del Ray's melodic voice rising upto the second floor. Basically, the worst nightmare for your self control as you prayed for inner strength and avoid looking into Max's dreamy blue eyes. This was definitely some twisted beyond the grave revenge from Shakespeare for you saying he'd write poetry about a F1 driver’s eyes.

Max, though, is all too happy to come right over to you with another freshly opened bottle of wine, drunk and flushed and having zero inhibitions about pulling you into his warm side with a strong arm. You're too buzzed to resist, letting yourself fall against his chest to hear his soothing heartbeat and rest a palm against his hard abs, just this once (The real thing was even better than what you'd imagined.)

You're both laughing and giggling then, hearts full, reminiscing about the season together, the inside jokes on the radio, the side eyes to each other when Horner got too wound up at a meeting, and oh did you hear that the McLaren tireboy was hooking up with the Mercedes oilchecker?

And then your eyes meet his and your homegirl Lana starts singing dear lord when I get to heaven, please let me bring my man (real) and Max is softly brushing your cheek, leaning down as your heated gazes flit to each other's lips-

NOPE! you force yourself to declare, dramatically leaving his arms and contemplating if you could land the jump from the 2nd floor balcony. The Italian wine has made Max demanding though, as he doesn't let you go, grabbing your hand to pull you back like he was Anthony goddamn Bridgerton and wanting to know Why not, was he just imagining the chemistry, did you not find him hot or?

You'd gaped at him. Not hot? Apparently the Italian wine had gotten to you too because you didn't hold back, launching into a tirade of how no, Max, the issue was actually that he was too hot for his own good and did he even know how unfair it had been to be his engineer, pure torture really, you were sure the American military would be adding it to their interrogation tactics. As if it hadn't been bad enough to crush on him from a distance for years but then have to resist falling for him every time you saw him? So, no, you couldn't just give him a casual drunk kiss because you were in love with him!

Max stares at you, initially smug that you apparently found him so irresistibly good looking, but now completely bewildered when you finished ranting. You think - he swallowed. You think that this is just casual? Cause I- cause I'm drunk?

At your nod, he launches into his own maxplaination, brows furrowed, demanding to know how on earth you could think it was just casual, what about when he diligently showed up to every meeting with a banana choc muffin and caramel frappe and his hoodie for you to wear on the chilly mornings, or when he brought two Lana Del Ray VIP tickets the very same day you'd told him you liked her, or when he'd literally called you darling in Dutch over the team radio for the whole world to hear, or how he even sold his private jet and only jetpooled with the others since you told him off?! Seriously, even that old crone Helmut had asked him when you two were going to hard launch!

Your doe eyes go wider and wider at each statement, a pretty flush taking over your own face as your mind boggles at the realisation that apparently, the love of your life felt just as deeply about you. Stuttering, you try to formulate a reply - only to come up with Oh, well, I, uh - you sold your jet? For me?

Max rolls his eyes, but there's nothing except pure adoration on his face as he pulls you back into his warm chest, grinning down at you when you eagerly wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. Yes, schat, he murmurs gently, the cutest blush painting his cheeks. Because I love you, too. And this time you don't pull away when he finally, finally leans down and meets your lips in a passionate kiss, enjoying the sweet moans he draws out of you as he showcases his numerous talents off the track.

Somewhere, in the middle of a Verona nightclub, your intern gives Lando Norris a firm handshake. Pleasure doing business with you.

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A/N: A lil sweet fluff for me, this is actually my first fluff piece i think ahaha i've only written like 8 smut pieces in a row!! Hope you enjoyed 💖 and PS thank you ALL for the requests you’ve been sending, been getting them and will work thru them just have a few projects I’m cookin up for u guys hehe xx

#max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1

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ai-reblogs · 5 months ago

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OP HOW COULD YOU NOT USE HIS BIRB FORM

Propaganda:

Tsubasa:

Tsubasa Yuunagi from Hirogaru Sky Precure. He has two forms, a boy and a small bird. He’s adorable. Also, he’s a magical boy.

Iggy:

He's the main character's pet, eats worms (and shoes), and has a lot of gas, but he did try to save the main character's life in book 1!

because he is the best pet and should be revered by all

He’s just a little guy that is also capable of causing havoc. He’s so cute and colorful :D

#TSUBASASWEEEP #BABY SON BABY #HE'S SO SMOL THEY PACK HIM IN THE BACK WITH THE LUGGAGE WHEN THEY CAN'T ALL FIT IN THE CAR #he's a flightless bird and a magical boy who can fly #HE'S STUDYING AERODYNAMICS #HE'S LIKE TWELVE #HIS SPECIAL INTEREST IS PLANES BC HE'S A SMALL BIRD FROM A SPECIES THAT TRADED FLYING FOR BEING ABLE TO TURN INTO HUMANS #AND BY ALL MEANS A PLANE DOES NOT LOOK LIKE IT SHOULD FLY #BUT IT DOES. AND HE'S WANTED TO FLY FOR SO LONG. THEY FASCINATE HIM #BECOMES A MAGICAL BOY TO PROTECT A BABY BIGGER THAN HIM BC ON GOD HE'S GONNA PUT HIS SMOL BIRB BODY BETWEEN HER AND DANGER #BECAUSE SHE'S SUCH A LITTLE GIRL. SHE'S SO SCARED. WHO WOULDN'T WANT TO PROTECT HER. SO HE WILL UNTIL THE END

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purinfelix · 2 days ago

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Franco Colapinto, where his girlfriend gets jealous of his interviews, so she does everything to make him jealous in return.

a taste of his own medicine ⋆.ೃ࿔*･- franco colapinto

summary: you've had enough of your boyfriend's shameless flirting during interviews, and hatch a plan to get back at him for it w/c : 1.3k

a/n: AAAA this is such a cute idea anon - i wrote a good chunk of this a while ago but only just finished the last bit today, thank u for the req and i hope u enjoy !! <333

You wondered if your boyfriend could feel the stone-cold glare you were giving the back of his head from your spot in the VIP lounge - though if he could, he surely wasn't doing anything about it.

Initially, there hadn't been any problems with keeping your relationship secret - in fact, it had been your idea for a number of reasons. You just didn't consider yourself ready to be swarmed and scrutinised by the media or have the title of 'F1 wag' bestowed upon you. It didn't feel right, if anything it felt like a disservice to boil down your relationship with Franco to something so sensationalized. Keeping it private seemed the best decision, at least for the time being. But now, the longer you watched your boyfriend shamelessly flirt with anyone who crossed his path, the more you grew to regret this decision.

You weren't by any means a jealous person by nature, but something about the fact that no one but you had any problem with this situation - and only because they didn't know about your relationship - irritated you. If only you could figure out a way to make Franco feel the same way you were. Just at that moment, as if by fate, you spotted a young-looking boy in a race suit walking casually past the lounge. His carefree walk, curly brown hair and boyish smile - bingo.

"Hey there," you called out, hopping up from the chair you were sitting in and walking over to the boy.

"Oh, hello," he replied, seemingly taken aback by being addressed by you.

"Sorry, it's just that I'm a little new to all of this and," you look him up and down, "you look like you know what you're doing, do you think you could show me around?"

He laughs shyly, hand rubbing the back of his nape. "Well, I mean, alright then, I'm Ollie by the way."

"Lovely to meet you, Ollie." You offer a girly giggle which you try your best not to cringe at as you follow the boy, who begins to walk around the nearest garage.

He begins to explain things, the process of getting ready to drive, the roles of different team members and the physics of the car itself - all of which you could care less about, but you nod earnestly regardless. Along the way, you even offer any mechanic or engineer who seems your age a friendly smile, and even a wink if they're particularly good-looking.

It's just your luck too that all of this is happening just close enough to the media hubs where your boyfriend has been stuck all afternoon. You try your best not to look too often over at him, not wanting to give away the true intentions of this mini tour you're scored for yourself. He doesn't seem to share the same sentiment though, based off of how many times you've caught him stealing glances at you, his eye following watchfully as you laugh and tease your impromptu tour guide.

"And so every element of car design has the purpose of making it as fast as possible, either through aerodynamics or by making everything lightweight," he continues to explain excitedly, and even though you're starting to feel dizzy from all the nodding you give him a quick one.

"Oh, wow!" You say, and before you know it you've landed yourself in the perfect position - within both earshot and line of vision of your boyfriend who seems to be wrapping up one of his last interviews for the night. Now, for the cherry on top.

You watch as Franco finishes saying his goodbyes to the last of the media crew, his eyes now searching the paddock for you. Knowing that he's looking at you, you throw your head back in laughter at nothing in particular and bring a hand up to graze Ollie's upper arm. Though you have his back to him you know your boyfriend well enough that when you feel a hand on your own shoulder mere seconds later, you aren't too shocked.

"Oh, hello Franco," you hum, feigning innocence. "Ollie here was just showing me around and keeping me company, isn't he the sweetest?"

"Very sweet." He grins through gritted teeth, though his strengthening grip on your shoulder says otherwise.

"No problem, oh but hey I forgot to show you just one more th-"

"Thanks, kid, but my girlfriend and I have got to get going."

Trying not to make it too obvious on your face how pleased you were that your plan had worked, you thanked Ollie once more before you felt Franco's grip sliding down your arm and intertwining his fingers with yours. Desperately, he dragged you off and away from your tour guide - who had a slightly confused expression painted on his face as he watched the two of you disappear into the Williams garage. You were amazed by how quickly your boyfriend was walking as he pulled you into his driver's room, shutting the door behind you quickly.

"What was that?" he huffed immediately, not giving you a second to say anything. You only smiled in response, watching his normally calm expression morph into one of frustrated confusion.

"I told you, Ollie was showing me around, you were busy with your interviews anyways," you decide to keep up the act of innocence, though you can tell he's not buying it.

"Bullshit, what sort of showing around involves touching him."

"I didn't think you were watching, those reporters seemed to keep you pretty occupied," you say in a sing-songy tone, throwing yourself down on the couch in his room. You wait for him to respond - something equally sarcastic or quippy, but when you turn to look at him you see him staring at the wall in front of him, eyes furrowed in confusion. Slowly, the cogs in his mind seem to start working as his expression slowly changes into one of realisation.

"You were jealous," he breathes out, turning to you with eyes wide and brows raised.

"Oh pfft- I wouldn't say jealous, bored now that might be more accurate but-" You're interrupted by him taking a seat on the couch next to you, face now painted with a smug look.

"You didn't like that I was talking to so many reporters, did you?" His teasing tone is enough to make your heart race a little, though you try your best to keep calm.

"I'm pretty sure you were doing a little more than talking babe, you were flirting!"

He looks at you with a slightly offended expression, "flirting?" It's almost as if he's just realising what he was doing.

"Uhm, duh."

"Did it really look like that?" His brows curve up into a pleading expression, "I didn't mean to, I swear!" You let out a soft chuckle watching his apologetic expression.

"It's fine baby, just try to be a little less friendly next time - I think your PR team would appreciate it anyway." He nods, scooting a little closer so that he can lay his head on your shoulder. There's a beat of silence before he speaks again.

"You were jealous," he hums, almost as if he's talking to himself.

"Wh- so were you! Poor Ollie is probably terrified of you now!"

"Whatever, he's a big boy, he'll live," he sighs, reaching for your hand and intertwining it in his "Plus, don't act like you're any better using that kid to get back at me."

"Hey, I had to do something before you walked out of that media room with a second girlfriend," you crossed your arms in annoyance, refusing to even look at him.

"You're cute when you're jealous," he laughs, before turning to peck at your jawline. Before you can stop you're melting into his touch, bringing a hand up to brush his curly hair away from his face. It might be a weak apology to some, but to you - to be here with him, in the privacy of his driver's room, away from Ollie, the reporters, and the rest of the world - it's more than enough.

taglist: (reply/send me an ask if you'd like to be added!)

@spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @alelo23 @scill-a @multifan-idk

#franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto fluff #franco colapinto oneshot #williams racing #williams f1 #formula one fanfic #formula one x reader #formula one fluff #formula one #purinfelix #jet writes ★#jet answers ✧

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autobahnmp3 · 2 years ago

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another cool animal: the anteater

#sixk boy #talk about aerodynamics #and design with purpose

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no-144444 · 1 month ago

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the grid: meet-cutes!

Day 2 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Max Verstappen, Alex Albon, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Charles LeClerc

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Oscar Piastri:

Oscar Piastri was an easy child to be around. He was sweet, polite, and didn’t kick up a fuss about anything.

That was, until you sat beside him in Ms. Smith’s Grade 3 class. You were the quiet, shy, new girl who didn’t really want to make new friends. You were in Australia for one thing, your skating career. Even at age 8 you were incredible, there was even talk of you going all the way to Russia to train with the best of the best, but all that would come later.

“Hi,” the boy beside you smiled.

“Hi,” you mumbled back, not exactly looking at him.

“I’m Oscar,” he held out his hand to be shook (much too formal for an 8 year old boy, but whatever) and you shook it.

“Y/n,” you answered simply.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

You didn’t answer, uninterested in making friends. You had friends, even if you only spoke to them through a phone screen, you still had friends back home.

“Where are you from?” He asked again.

“Why do you care?” you asked.

“I want to be your friend,” he answered simply.

“Why?”

He went quiet and a slight blush appeared on his cheek. “I think you’re pretty.”

“Well, that’s-”

“Oscar! Y/n! What are we talking about?” Ms. Smith scolded.

“Nothing Miss,” you answered. “Sorry for interrupting.”

“Oscar just told Y/n he loves her!” Ryan, the boy sat to the left of Oscar, shouted. The classroom was soon full of ooo’s and aww’s, and you were left shaking your head while he hid his head in his hands.

You two did become friends though, then best friends, then boyfriend and girlfriend. Then you two got married, and he spoke about that very moment in his vows.

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Lando Norris:

Clubs weren’t your thing but when it was the second last night of the family holiday, you somehow got away for long enough to find yourself in one. Your little brother was driving you insane, and you genuinely couldn’t keep up the fake smiles anymore with your parents constant bickering. This was supposed to be your holiday, where they celebrated your graduation. You’d just finished aerodynamics in Cambridge and you were sick of the numbers, and your family. You just wanted to get away.

Suddenly, your dancing was cut short when a guy decided to spill his drink all over you and not notice. You huffed as you dragged yourself to the bathroom, only to find the longest line ever. Quickly, you looked around, then dipped into the empty men’s bathroom.

You lined your top up with the hand dryer, and waited as it slowly dried.

Empty men’s bathroom, or so you thought. Then, the door to one of the cubicles opened to reveal a very tanned, very pretty, and very confused man about your age.

“Oh shit did I go into the women’s bathroom?! I-I’m so sorry-” he immediately began apologising but you cut him off with your own embarrassing truth.

“Nope,” you sighed, accepting your fate as the ‘strange girl who went into the men’s instead of the women’s to dry her stupid top after some stupid guy spilled his drink on her’ “This is the men’s, I just… needed to dry my top.”

“Oh, alright, carry on,” he nodded, relief filling his voice. You chuckled at the absurdity of this moment.

“You’re not going to ask me to leave?”

“Should I?” he asked.

“Probably,” you informed him.

“I’d just be worried about you to be honest,” he finished washing his hands. “Guys are creepy. Just be careful.”

You nodded. “You’re an actual gentleman,” you laughed.

He smiled shyly. “Thank you.”

“Do you wanna dance?” You asked.

He nodded, biting his lips to stop himself from grinning like a little boy. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“Then let’s go,” you smiled, taking his hand and dragging him back out to the dance floor. Wet top long forgotten…

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Max Verstappen

You weren’t exactly supposed to have run out of your father’s office, nor were you supposed to have ended up at the media shoot for the new Toro Rosso drivers, but you did anyway.

“Y/n!” Carlos smiled, wrapping a hand around your waist in a hug. “It is so good to see you!”

“Hey Carlos,” you smiled. You’d met Carlos already, at one of those boring galas your dad had sent you to. I mean, you were only 17, what was he expecting? You to enjoy spending time with rich old dudes who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves? I don’t think so. “How are you?”

Behind him stood Max Verstappen, no him, you’d heard about. Though, he didn’t seem as intimidating as you’d imagined him to be. He seemed kind of… normal. Just like any other random teenage boy your age. Kind of awkward, kind of annoying, and pretty good looking.

“I’m good hermosa, you?” Carlos smiled. You caught Max staring at you, and offered him a soft smile. His eyes darted away from you both.

“Good thanks.”

You took the initiative and went up to him, holding out your hand. “Hi, I’m Y/n Horner.”

“Max Verstappen,” he shook your hand, avoiding eye contact.

“Max thinks you’re pretty,” Carlos smirked, drawing a laugh from you, and a harrowing look of betrayal from Max.

“Carlos! Why don’t you even shut up?!” He whined, making you laugh harder.

“What? It is the truth, no? You think she is-”

“Carlos!” Max scolded.

When you’d finally stopped laughing, the pair of them had been called to go back in for photos. Before he walked away you slipped your number into Max’s hand with a smile. “I think you’re pretty too,” you whispered, leaving him flushed and flustered.

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Alex Albon:

You weren’t exactly privy to all the goings on of an F1 garage, but you knew well enough to not touch the cars, or get in anyone’s way.

Somehow, you failed both of those things within about 5 seconds, all because of one man. James Vowels, that stupid idiot bumped into you as he laughed and sent you flying into one of the engineer’s desks.

“Sorry!” you immediately rushed out as someone helped you up, telling you that it was alright and there was no harm done.

“To be fair, that was James’s fault,” Terry, one of the engineers, pointed out.

“Excuse me?” James’s voice went up four octaves.

“You knocked right into her mate!” he laughed.

“It’s impressive that you missed someone that beautiful,” Alex chuckled at his boss, then stopped after he realised what he’d said. “Oh my god I’m so sorry-”

The garage was alive with laughter as Alex stuttered through an apology, and you chuckled along, desperately trying to end the whole ordeal.

“It’s alright,” you cut him off. “Thank you for the compliment.”

“You’re welcome,” he smiled, blushing madly. “And I’m sorry- again.”

“Ask her out!” One of the engineers shouted.

“I’m so sorry, I absolutely won’t-”

“Yes,” you agreed in a split-second decision.

“Yes?” He confirmed with you. “Alright then!”

“How did you manage to accidentally get a date?!” James laughed.

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George Russell:

“George, this is your new race engineer, Y/n Y/l/n,” Toto announced. George’s other race engineer had just taken maternity leave after his wife had given birth to a beautiful baby boy just days prior.

“Hi,” you smiled, holding out your hand. He stood there, just staring.

“George?” Toto nudged his arm. “George.”

“Yes? Oh-umm, sorry, very rude of me, I’m George,” he was flustered. Lando watched from the other side of the room with a smirk on his face. His friend was in love, how sweet?

“George?” Lando called over. “Did Toto matchmake you?”

Your professionalism was already thinly wound because of the hoops you had to jump through to get the job in the first place, and now two men who were being fucking annoying and dickheads were testing you. “I’m his new race engineer,” you explained with a pleasant smile.

“Really? You’re pretty enough to model,” Lando smirked, playing up the sleeze so that George could swing in and be your ‘knight in shining armour’. Well, knight in… black and turquoise armour.

“Lan, what the hell are you saying?” George gawked.

“I’d love to ask the same question,” you nodded.

Lando broke character and laughed in your faces for a solid minute. At least he’d broken the ice.

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Lewis Hamilton:

You walked into the room with your head held high. Your client was nowhere to be seen, probably busy doing cocaine in the bathroom, but you didn’t care. This was the afterparty. No cameras, no inhibitions, and no babysitting.

You sat at the bar, ordered a martini, and fell back into one of your favourite past times, people watching. You watched as celebrities you used to idolise, danced on each other the same way horny teenagers did. You watched as the time ticked by before you could leave.

“Long night?” he asked, a kind smile on his face.

“You have no idea,” you chuckled. “Celebrities aren’t easy to deal with- no offence,” you smiled.

“None taken,” he chuckled. “I find them all pretty difficult to be around too.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “I don’t know if you get to say that when you are a celebrity.”

“Sure I do,” he shrugged. “At least I can keep my hands to myself, unlike Mr. Styles over there,” he chuckled, ponting out some of the most awkward pairs out on the dance floor.

You laughed, trying to hide it with a sip of your drink. “We probably shouldn’t say that,” you chuckled. “Even if it is true.”

“Why not?” he smirked.

“Not all of us are celebrities Mr. Hamilton, some of us may lose our jobs,” you smiled.

“Who’s your client?” he asked, catching onto the fact that you weren’t a glitz and glamour-y actor or singer.

“You don’t even want to know,” you sighed, chuckling lightly. “He’s the actual worst.”

“Oh, so it’s one of the old ones?” he guessed.

“I’m not answering that,” you shook your head.

He smiled at you. “How about a bet? If I can guess who it is by the end of the night, I get your number.”

You smiled. “Deal.”

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Charles LeClerc

Charles may have been one of the most well-rated drivers in Formula 1, but his parallel parking was… abysmal. It was embarrassing, to be honest.

You walked out to your car after another 12 hour day at your gruelling office job, already on the verge of crying thanks to your asshole boss screaming at you for getting her coffee order wrong, and apparently the dickhead who parked beside you, decided today would be the day to back up into your car.

“Fuck!” you groaned as you watched him do it. “What the hell are you doing?” You asked, going over to the window.

“I am so sorry!” he immediately apologised.

“Holy shit, you’re that Formula 1 driver,” you stated, taken aback.

“I am so sorry about your car, it was a complete accident,” he explained. “I’ll pay for the damages.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry. Here’s my number, and my insurance’s number,” you started writing down the numbers on a piece of paper, then handed them to him.

“I’m Charles, by the way,” he introduced himself, a soft smile on his face.

“Cool,” you nodded. “Give me a call.”

You turned to go back to your car, it wasn’t bad enough to not be able to drive it home, just a few scratches.

“W-wait!” he called after you. “I didn’t give you my number,” he stated.

“I know,” you nodded. “I doubted that you gave out your number to random people.”

“Well… for the insurance, right?”

“I don’t care mate,” you sighed. “Sorry, it’s just… it’s been a very long day.”

“It’s alright,” he smiled. “Here’s my number, I’ll give you a call, yeah?”

“Yeah, thanks Charles,” you nodded, taking the piece of paper out of his hand.

“Sorry again,” he smiled.

“It’s seriously alright,” you nodded. "Just... one question?"

"Sure," he shrugged.

"Shouldn't you be a better driver? Like you're an F1 driver, right?"

He chuckled. "Parallel parking isn't exactly covered in the super liscense."

"It should be."

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Daniel Riccardo

You sighed as you walked through the paddock. Being Adrian Newey's protege was slowly sucking the soul from your body ever since he'd left. You were now the saving grace for everyone, and you had no idea what you were up against next season. Aston Martin would be throwing money at the wall, and you were unsure of whether you could build the fastest car.

"Y/n, for fuck's sake," he demanded. "I needed these numbers done yesterday and you didn't finish them! That's just plain disrespect!"

"Sir, I finished what I could with the data you gave me, I can't make equations with no universe to place them in, it doesn't work like that," you explained, done with this 2 hour long meeting.

There was a knock on the door and you internally blessed whoever it was to end this hellhole of a meeting.

Daniel's head popped through the door. "Christian, what did you want me for?"

"We're in a meeting right now," Christian growled.

"Not anymore," you deadpanned. "I have some maths to do, goodbye Christian."

"We need to talk about this!" he called after you.

"No, you want to complain to someone, and talking to a brick wall would be easier than trying to explain how fucking impossible your 'dream scenario' is. Goodbye Christian."

With that, you left the meeting room, making a reminder in your phone to send Daniel a bouquet as a thank you gift.

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sweet1delusi0ns · 5 months ago

Text

Haikyuu Boys calling you ma’am ──☆*:・ﾟ

Team ! Karasuno

Btw I’m working on the rest of the cuddling headcanons😋

Characters: Hinata, Kageyama, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Nishinoya, Daichi, Sugawara, Tanaka

Hinata✿

Respectful boy! Most of the time- he has so much courage and respect for you so he calls you ma’am normally when your ‘leading’ such as giving him a pep talk or showing him how to do something

“I’m telling you! Stop running with your arms down it makes you slower. Understand?” “Yes ma’am! I’ll try!” “You literally did the opposite of what I said, raise your arms up it’ll make your body more aerodynamic…do you even know what that means?” “No ma’am I don’t…BUT I’ll run with my arms higher!” He literally runs with his arms straight in the air, that’s not what you meant either-

Kageyama✿

Sassy but not intentionally, most of the time hes not trying to be sassy but sometimes he just says things that can be viewed as such. He does call you ma’am as a nickname but the way he says it sounds like hes trying to back talk you-

“Do you mind getting me some water baby?” “Whatever you say ma’am” “excuse me?” “What?” He asks, handing you the water “why so sassy?” “I wasn’t…huh?” “The ‘ma’am’ wasn’t you being sassy?” “Uhm no I genuinely wanted to call you that?” “Oh….thanks baby-”

Tsukishima✿

Sassy.on.purpose. He thinks he’s so funny teasing you with names that aren’t really fitting at the time, calling you ma’am or miss is him trying to penalized you, but most of the time he fails since you don’t mind being called it. He ends up flustered instead but he doesn’t tell you

“HEY! DID U TAKE MY BOOK?” “What? Oh no ma’am I would never~” “well… I guess I can’t be mad when my baby calls me silly names~” “heh…what..?” “Your so cute when you call me names like that how can I be maddd?” You kiss his cheek causing him to turn red “w-whatever” “but seriously give me my book back or else your ‘ma’am’ isn’t gunna be happy.”

Yamaguchi✿

Only calls you ‘ma’am’ and stuff when he’s either scared of you or in trouble. Normally he tries to calm you down with empowering names and normally it works!

“How can you make such a mess and not clean up. Seriously I don’t care if you make your own food but why do you leave the ingredients EVERYWHERE!” “I-I’m sorry! I’ll clean it up right away ma’am!” “Hmm…well I guess I can’t be mad at that cute face and respectful talk huh~ I’ll help” “no ma’am it’s my mess! Let me!”

Nishinoya✿

Hes a Flirt to He calls You things like ‘ma’am’ ‘miss’ ‘mama’ n such all the time. But normally follows it up with a compliment, or sometimes he uses it as a compliment itself

“Wow is that a goddess I see infront of me?!” “Uh are you expecting something in return?” “No ma’am just wanted to let you know you are lookin foxy today~” “…ok weirdo, can you tie my shoes for me though?” “YES MA’AM!” He feels like he’s slipping on Cinderellas shoe anytime he helps you with yours LOL

Daichi✿

Respectful! Yk how his team is scared of his authority? Well he’s more scared of yours. And since he is the respectful man he is he doesn’t try to test you. He agrees in fear of ticking you off

“Daichi.” “Uhm…yes…” “the trash.” He forgot to take out the trash “OH MY GOD. I am so sorry! Itll Never happen again maam I promise!” “Wow ok, take your time no need to get scared-” “oh thank god your not mad-”

Sugawara✿

He’s scared to ask for the simplest things, he tries his best to be as nice as possible when asking. Not to butter you up so your more likely to say yes but so you think he is still respecting you and all you do

“Y/n..uh I mean- ma’am, could you possibly help me with something. If you are to busy that’s ok-” “no babe it’s ok, what do you need help with?” “Thank you ma’am-” “that’s not necessarily suga~ just let me help” “oh…ok uhm could you help me find my favorite sweater i don’t remember where it is” “cuz I stole it” “what?”

Tanaka✿

Like noya, he just calls you it to flirt OR to butter you up, probably because he’s going to ask you the craziest thing after and he hopes the name would make you say yes

“So my beautiful, sexy and charming y/n what chu uh…doing?” “….you want something huh?” “Yes ma’am~ I was wondering if I could-” “no.” “OH CMON!” “Nope.” “PLEASEEEE” “dude im not rocking you to sleep again, your not a baby.” “YOU DID IT BEFORE!” “It was a ONE TIME THING!”

Yes I stole this prompt from my previous naruto post😋

Again not proof read 😌

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