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iamred-iamyellow · 3 months ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Puppy Love

♥ masterlist | request rules | based on this post

♥ pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

♥ synopsis: the golden retriever puppy you were fostering had gone missing and ran into f1 driver lando norris. lando attempted calling the number on his collar, talking to a few shelters, and making some found dog signs, but he wasn’t successful in finding you. this was until you stumbled upon an instagram post of his, allowing you to reach out and have the perfect puppy meet cute.

♥ smau + written - fc: girls on pinterest - as always none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing !!!

♥ a/n: @coff33andb00ks I hope you like it <3

-Monaco, F1 Summer Break-

There was no doubt that Lando was due for a much needed break from F1. He however did not imagine he'd be spending it with someone else.

He was walking around the Monegasque streets near his apartment when something blonde and fluffy ran straight into his legs, causing him to stumble backwards.

He caught his balance, looking towards the ground to find a golden retriever sitting at his feet.

He softly squealed as he knelt down to pet the puppy, checking its tag for information. "Your name is Oscar, huh?" he smiled, holding the dog's face in his hands. “That’s cute. I guess you're twinning with my teammate.”

He checked the back of the tag for a phone number to call, but received no answer after a few attempts.

He'd waited around that area of Monaco in case Oscar's owner had only been a few blocks away, but as time quickly passed, he had to accept that no one was going to show up.

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, maxfewtrell and 1,194,843 more

landonorris I found this adorable boy on my walk today in monaco. hope I can find his owner(s) soon

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charles_leclerc all my friends have dogs now 🥰

maxverstappen1 😐

charles_leclerc @/maxverstappen1 you heard me

user6 that's literally the cutest puppy I've ever seen

user8 he looks so sweet 😭

lewishamilton looks like roscoe has a lot of competition now

♡ by landonorris

user1 AWWWW

user4 🥺

-A Day Later-

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You and Lando had mutually agreed to meet up at a dog park. The minute he spotted you oscar ran and jumped straight into your arms to lick your face.

“Hey buddy,” you laughed, cuddling up to the puppy on your arms.

You held a hand out to Lando, "It's great to meet you. Thank you so much for taking care him."

"It was no problem," he smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Lando melted at the adorable interaction between you and Oscar. You were smiling and scrunching your nose, petting the soft fur on the top of the puppy's head.

"I'm gonna miss him," he said.

You smiled at Lando then back at Oscar who was still cradled in your arms. You booped his snout and shifted your gaze back to Lando.

"He is a foster... maybe you'd like to consider adopting him?"

Lando's eyes lit up, "Seriously?"

You laughed softly and nodded your head.

"Yes, absolutely. I would love to adopt him."

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by landonorris, lando.jpg, maxfewtrell, and 378,583 more

yourusername a certain someone is excited to see @/landonorris again

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maxfewtrell aw is that certain someone you

yourusername …

user1 everyone back the fuck up who is she and how is she so gorgeous

landonorris I can see the ferrari logo on your top you know

yourusername it’s not like I have any other f1 merch

landonorris I guess I’ll have to give you my McLaren shirt whenever you come to a race ��

yourusername I suppose you will

user7 guys they're flirting this isn't a drill

user2 Lando likes this on both accs he’s WHIPPED

user10 I’m still not over how fucking adorable oscar is

oscarpiastri aw thanks

user6 😭

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Before the Netherlands Grand Prix Lando had asked you to take care of Oscar for another few days. The adoption papers had already been signed but he wanted to get to know the puppy more before ever considering bringing him along to a race.

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 428,502 more

yourusername @/landonorris oscar misses you 🥺

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user7 likely place for him to be

user7 oh you were talking about the dog

user1 HE LOOKS SO SAD :(

user3 NOOO

user8 how could you resist those eyes

landonorris I miss you both too

♡ by yourusername

maxfewtrell “both”. oh? I didn't know you two were close like that 🧐

user5 max is so me

-Azerbaijan Grand Prix-

liked by mclarenracingf1, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 582,472 more

yourusername jumping straight into his dad’s arms

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landonorris ❤️

♡ by yourusername

user7 SCREAM

user1 THE HEARTTTTTTAAHHHHH

user4 “into his DAD’S arms”

user19 guys they’re in love I’m calling it

mclarenracingf1 the cutest guest we’ve ever had 🥰

landonorris the cutest dog in the paddock

charles_leclerc you take that back

lewishamilton you take that back

pierregasly you take that back

user10 I feel like after every post they just make it seem more and more like they're a couple

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, maxfewtrell, and 1,038,573 more

lando.jpg @/yourusername

comments are restricted

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell and 1,582,921 more landonorris cuddles with my boy and my girl ❤️

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yourusername I love you

landonorris I love you 🫶

danielricciardo awwww

oscarpiastri mom and dad are back together

maxfewtrell I fucking knew it

user19 I CALLED IT

user1 cutest love story ever 😭

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captainreecejames · 4 months ago

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Just Friends || MV1 Oneshot

part of the my ex is a footballer series [masterlist] [my ex series masterlist] [max smau]

pairings max verstappen x reader with some ex!ben chilwell x reader in the smau part, danielle campbell is the faceclaim but reader is not described in this part so imagine however

word count 5.2k

warnings talks about depression, injuries and blood dealing with hands, hospitals and medical stuff, mentions of jos verstappen, cursing, angst and fluff, not proofread so probably shitty writing and mistakes

notes this took longer than I initially imagined because i was stuck on how to get it started, but after a good nights sleep and words of encouragement from @coff33andb00ks I got this puppy started. This fic includes Adrian Newey as the point red bull person so I could avoid horner and max as an almost dog dad because I'm a dog person. It starts in the middle of the 2022 season and goes through the 2023 season. If there is enough interest, I might continue to write these two together because I really enjoyed it and there is more to explore.

songs to listen to while reading you're losing me-taylor swift / so long, london-taylor swift / same mistakes-one direction / lose you to love me-selena gomez

You met Max on accident, according to you. When you talked to your father about it years later, you would learn it was no accident.

He was golfing with Adrian Newey and more coworkers but had forgotten his wallet, so he asked you to drop it off.

Now you knew he worked at Red Bull, so really it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that you would eventually meet Max Verstappen, but you walked into the country club expecting to meet some older man, not the reigning Formula 1 world champion.

How'd Max know who to approach? Your father had shown him a picture of you so he would know who to look for. While you were searching the lobby, Max had come up to you, saying your name.

You had plenty of experience meeting famous people, even one’s who knew your name before meeting (perks of dating a football star) but it was still a shock.

The meeting consisted of shy words and you fumbling around your bag for your father’s wallet and that’s it. No matter how much experience you had with famous athletes, it would still be weird meeting them. You wouldn’t see Max again for a few weeks, he was busy with races and staying in Monaco.

The next time would be at the base, once again you were dropping something off for your dad. This time it was lunch that he just insisted he needed, not whatever was being served in the cafe that day.

You stood in the lobby, waiting for your father to get out of a meeting, admiring the trophies on display when Max came up to you.

He will argue in the future that you admiring his trophies made him interested, and that he wasn’t over a little bragging if it got the attention of a pretty girl. That argument ignores the scheming that your father and Adrian had done, from complaining about your lack of interest in the sport to complaining about you needing to get out more. (Your lack of interest in the sport wasn’t true, just that you preferred Ferrari over the local team.)

So with the subliminal messaging from your father, Max was interested in you.

“I thought you didn’t really like the sport,” he said coming to stand at your side.

You jumped slightly, not expecting anyone to approach you. “Why would you think that?”

“Your father.” You turn to him with a confused face and Max decided to clarify. “He talks about you a lot.”

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t listen to half of what he says.”

“Really? Even when he talks about the chassis?” His words are teasing and you think he’s flirting with you.

“Maybe that you can listen to.” You shrug, turning back to the cabinet. “He’s really just jealous that I prefer Ferrari.”

Of fucking course, the Italian team. “A fan of Leclerc?” You can hear the bitterness in his voice and it shocks you a little how quickly he changes his mood.

“He’s okay,” you shrug again. Max thinks that your nonchalantness is annoying, why can’t you just admit you find Charles hot and move on.

(Hidden in the stairwell, Adrian and your father are a little nervous. They can tell that this isn’t going as well as hoped.)

“Schumacher has been my favorite, but I think of the current drivers its Vettel.” Now Max realizes that the two of you are standing in front of Sebastian’s 2010 championship trophy, and he feels a little embarrassed he didn’t realize sooner. “I’m a little bitter he didn’t win the championship with Ferrari.”

There are more “chance” meetings, but the conversation flows much easier now. Like the dinner at Adrian Newey’s house and after, when he has to give you a ride back to your new place because your parents don’t want to leave yet. Or the time when it’s suggested that you give him a ride to Luton airport because it’s on your way to London. Or even the holiday party at the end of the year where he has to give you a ride again because you’re tipsy and shouldn’t drive.

It’s the airport drive when you both realize that you’re being set up by Adrian and your father, which causes a lot of awkwardness between the both of you during your goodbyes.

You go back home a few days later and scold your father for the set up. You don’t need another relationship right now, you tell him. He says he knows, but Max makes you happy in a way he hasn’t seen in years and that makes him happy. Your mother reminds him that you need to be happy without a man first and he says he’ll give up the endeavors to push you on to Max. If Adrian happens to come up with any more ideas that's not his fault, the man is a genius afterall.

The holiday party is more of an accident than anything, your father and mother leave much earlier than you, and so you are stuck with Max to drive you home.

He complained about the hotel he was staying at, so you offer him some time in your apartment to get away from fancy places and he takes you up on it. And now that you're home, it does’t seem like a bad idea to have another drink, just to take the edge off of having Max in your place.

“Would you like another drink?” you offer while making your own gin and tonic. He stares around at the quiet kitchen, taking in the place that feels very you. “Or perhaps some tea?” He shakes his head no, eyes catching a picture of you hugging Ben. It’s an old picture, from when Leicester City won the league and you’ve only recently dug it out of the box it was sitting in.

“I thought you were single,” he says, picking up the picture to examine it closer.

“I am,” you answer, turning around from the counter to look at him. You’re about to ask him where the question came from when you see what’s in his hands. “That’s from 2016, when Leicester City won the league.” Max nods like he understands, but he doesn’t.

“Who’s this?” he points to Ben.

“Ben Chilwell.” Maybe if you’re just vague enough, he’ll drop it. He doesn’t.

“Okay,” he draws it out. “Who is he to you?”

Not much of anything anymore, is what you want to say. You settle for something vague again. “A friend.”

“Looks like more than a friend.” Is Max trying to provoke you or something? He can tell you’re growing frustrated with him and it makes him feel guilty. “Sorry, I just, don’t know much about your life before here.”

You sigh, deciding that alcohol probably isn’t the best drink for now. You move to the kettle next to the stove, opting for tea to help calm you down.

“Ben and I dated until a couple months ago, I moved back home right after we broke up.” He nods along with your story and you continue the tea making process. “Ben and I were childhood sweethearts, together since we were like 14 years old. So that makes,” it takes you a minute to do the math in your head, “12 years together.” You don’t turn to see what Max’s face looks like. A lot of people during your relationship with Ben were in awe of how long you were together, but there were some who thought it was silly and childish. Who stayed with someone they were dating since 14? (Apparently not you.)

You thought it was romantic up until a few months before the break up. Childhood sweethearts, best friends to lovers, boy next door, all tropes you loved in books and you were living it in real life! Until it wasn’t. Until you moved in the middle of a pandemic to a new city with no support system and became depressed. Until Ben needed support you and you couldn’t make yourself see that giving him everything was leaving you with nothing.

It took an intervention from your parents to see that you were depressed, and an offhand comment about marriage from Ben to see that the relationship wouldn’t go anywhere new.

“What happened?”

“He didn’t want to marry me.”

“I’m just not sure I’m want to marry her, yet,” Ben says to the group. There’s a pause before he says yet, like someone made a face and he’s trying to placate them.

What the fuck? you want to ask. You want to scream it, really, because what the fuck does he mean by that? You’ve been together for over ten years, he’s said since Leicester that he only wants you, for the rest of his life. And now... now he doesn’t know? How the fuck do you not know? How can he not know? It makes you angry, the most emotion you’ve felt in probably months and it’s anger at your boyfriend.

Your grip on your glass is tightening, turning your knuckles white with the force and you worry the glass will shatter in your hand.

It does, but you don’t feel it. You don’t hear the glass shattering in your hand or on the floor, don't feel the splash of ice, gin, and tonic on your legs.

What you feel is something akin to clarity, because you’ve been living in a fog for months, probably the two years you’ve been in London and now you know how Ben feels. If he doesn’t want to marry you now, he probably won’t ever want it.

It takes your friend coming over and putting a hand on your shoulder for you to realize that something is physically wrong. That your hand is bleeding from glass cuts and you’re standing in a puddle of water and alcohol and some blood.

Emma says your name a little louder to grab your attention and now people are staring at you, wondering what’s caused the glass to shatter in your hand. She ignores them, pulling you across the room so she can take care of you.

Unfortunately, the glass is too deep and you have to be taken to an emergency room, where the nurses and doctors fuss over your hand. They ask you questions about how it happened, you explain that a glass shattered in your hands. They're suspicion is eased when Emma corroborates your story. It's soon after that you're allowed to go home.

All this time, Ben hasn’t come running into the room desperate to find you, and that reminds you why you’re here in the first place. Because Ben isn’t sure he wants to marry you.

“That’s how you got the scars on your hand?” Max is gentle when he takes your hand in his, holding it so delicately like you might break. You nod, but don’t pull away from him. His touch is soft and it makes you feel something you haven’t felt in a while. His hand turns so you can see the own scar on his hand. “I got this one from Jimmy, my cat.” He lets you run a finger over the scratch on the back of his hand. You run your hand over it one more time and Max get’s goosebumps from your touch.

You look up at him from your hands, your eyes roaming his face and seeing how sincere he is. It makes you nervous.

You pull your hands back, stepping away to grab a mug for your tea and busy your hands with something besides his own.

Max can see you close off on him, but the story isn’t over yet. “What happened after the hospital?”

“Are you going to tell me why this happened?” Emma asks finally, walking with you out of the ED. She’s stayed the whole time, occasionally popping out to call your other friends and update them on the situation.

It’s on the tip of your tongue to tell her, but you know what she’ll say: 'break up with him already, it’s not going anywhere and you’re obviously hurting over this. '

It’s not what you want to hear, you love Ben so much because you’ve always loved him, he’s all you’ve ever known and it used to be so good, so you know it can go back to being good.

It has to. You need it to.

So you try to laugh it off, say that your grip is much stronger than you thought and that there must have been a hairline fracture in the glass.

But Emma doesn’t buy it. She lets you try to joke your way out of this, lets you laugh uncomfortably as she stares at you, and then pulls you to a halt at the corner. Your uneasy smile falls and you sigh. You know better than to try and hide this from her.

“Ben said something,” it’s a whisper, like the quieter you say it makes it hurt less. She waits for you to continue, knowing that you’ll explain if she doesn’t push too hard. You take a deep breath, hoping that the air will do something, anything to make it easier to say out loud. “He’s not sure if he wants to marry me.” You hold the pause like he did, adding the yet in a pointed tone. With how much Ben has hurt you, you still want to spare him the criticism. You love him.

Emma immediately goes off, like you know she would, so you tune it out. It’s nothing you haven’t heard in the last year.

The traffic light turns green, and you begin your walk back to the carpark, looking around the spaces to find your friend's car.

“YN!” another voice shouts. It’s Ben.

He’s jogging to you across the lot, eyes a little wide like he’s been panicking for a while. “Why didn’t you grab me before leaving?” He means to direct the question to Emma, but he’s looking at you and you feel like he’s blaming you. “I was looking for you across the house until someone finally told me that you left for the emergency department. I was worried sick.” He looks it, you think. He does care. He wouldn’t look like that if he didn’t care. “You weren’t answering your phone, and-“ he cuts himself off as he stares at your hand. “What the hell happened?”

Oh- he doesn’t know.

“She heard you,” Emma answers. You want to stop her, explain for yourself so you can just go home and sleep.

“What?” Ben asks, confusion across his face for a second before he realizes. You heard him. You heard him. “You weren’t meant to hear that.”

That’s his excuse?

“That’s your excuse?” Emma takes the words from of your mouth, but not the anger from your body, you clench your bandaged hand, wincing when it pulls at the stitches. Ben is still looking at you, but you’re unable to read him. “She wasn’t meant to fucking hear that?” Her voice is shrill and it grates on you because of a headache, but you know she means well. “You know what, fuck you Ben Chilwell! Go fucking rot in ditch!” With that she pulls you away from him, rushing the two of you towards her car so she can drive you to her home.

“That’s his excuse?” Max’s tone is just like Emma’s on that night and still you want to defend Ben. Your relationship is long over with the footballer, but that doesn’t mean you don’t love him.

“I was a mess then,” you tell him, pouring your water into the cup, “I wouldn’t want to marry me either.”

“But he loved you, and you don’t say something like that about someone you love.” Max looks angry next to you, and that scares you even more. Not because of his anger, but because he clearly cares so much and you’re not sure if you deserve it.

“Listen to me,” Max grabs your arms, pulling you to face him in your small kitchen. “Friends, boyfriends, people who love you-“ (Do his hands squeeze you harder on friends or boyfriends?) “They don’t talk about you like that behind your back. And also they notice when you’re gone, when you’re hurt, when you aren’t’ yourself.”

“But he was also hurting,” there are tears in your eyes from his words because you believe them, but also you still love Ben.

“And so were you, clearly. Yet you could tell something was wrong with him and he couldn’t see it in you?” Max has known you for only a few months, and has spent even less time physically with you, but he sees you and the way your brain works so clearly and that’s really scary. He must see something in your eyes because then he backs off, taking a step away to put distance between your bodies and space to breathe.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, “I didn’t mean to get so intense.” You shake your head, trying to put away the thoughts of his beautiful blue eyes staring into your own. “Just sometimes, I really want people to know that they deserve better.”

“No, it’s okay.” You pull the tea bag out of the water, looking down for the tiny plate to leave it on. “You’re not the first person to say that to me and you probably won’t be the last.” He nods, watching you spoon sugar into the tea. “But thank you for saying that, sometimes," you pause, "sometimes, it’s good to be reminded.”

Your friendship grows from there, but it doesn’t evolve into anything romantic. You’re clearly still healing from Ben and no matter how much he thinks about you while he’s in Monaco or off at a race, you need time.

So instead your flat becomes his base when he’s needed at the factory. He can leave clothes and toiletries at your place without worry, he can sneak a nice home cooked meal from you or your parents when he’s there, and he doesn’t have to deal with shitty hotel mattresses. (Even though it’s a Five Star hotel.)

He meets your friends when a girls night overlaps with some sim testing. They really like him and can see that his awkward charm has pulled you in.

You meet Danny Ric at the beginning of the 2023 season, when Red Bull decides to make him their reserve driver, and the two of you are like two peas in a pod. (On the plane back to Monaco Danny asks him when he’s finally going to ask you out.)

(Max shakes his head and tells him that you two are just friends, because that’s what you need. Just friends.)

Max invites you to the Monaco Grand Prix, but you decline, not interested in the media scrutiny that comes with that particular race. You say yes to the Spanish Grand Prix in Barcelona, but after he peaks at the invite list he tells you it’s probably not the best idea. You agree with him when you finally get him to tell you why you're uninvited. The Silverstone Grand Prix is during a girls trip, and with how busy it gets, you both drop the subject for a while.

When Max clinches his third championship in Qatar you finally decide that you need to go to a race. The next one is in Texas, but it doesn’t work with your schedule so you get the passes for Mexico.

The Mexican Grand Prix is the perfect race to join. It’s Checo’s home race, so the focus is on him instead of Max. You stand to the back of the garage, hiding from view on Friday and Saturday. Occasionally you’ll talk with some engineers you’ve met before or share a few minutes with Adrian, but most of the time is in hiding Max’s drivers room with him.

Most of Sunday is spent talking with the stars in the garage, explaining why you’re here and how you know people. You avoid any interviews with Sky Sports, knowing that somehow they’ll bring up Ben and Chelsea’s current run of form, something that you just can’t deal with.

So you stay in the back of the garage, celebrate the podium in the back of the crowd and don’t wait up for Max to finish media duties, instead heading back to the hotel. It hurts to hide yourself away, you want to be the first to congratulate him on a win, or comfort him after a loss. But it’s for the best, you try convince yourself. You're just friends.

Max isn’t bitter about the decision at all. Being noticed at this race is a beacon to all fans that you are something to someone, and no matter how much he maybe wants that to be true, you’re just friends. Besides you have dinner with him and a few of the drivers and their own significant others, so really what more could he ask for?

After the season is over he’s back in Milton Keynes to finish up some things before heading out to start his holidays. Most of them will be spent with his family in Belgium or in Monaco, so he is determined to at least spend a day with you before leaving. He wasn’t planning on it being at a dog shelter.

“I think I want a dog,” you had told him while in Mexico. You’d spent a year alone in the flat (not counting Max practically moving in when he was needed at HQ) and things were too quiet for you.

“Okay.” You were relaxing in his driver’s room before Free Practice 2. You’re both on the couch, him with an iPad going over some data and you with your feet up on his lap researching shelters on your phone. The domesticity of it all was frustrating.

“Are you allergic to dogs?” you ask. You know about Jimmy and Sassy back in Monaco, and he really doesn’t seem like dog person at all, but his opinion on this matters to you. His opinion on the most mundane and trivial things now matter to you. He doesn’t pay rent and so he doesn’t get the final say on anything, but if it makes life easier in Milton Keynes, you want to know what he thinks.

“No, I just prefer cats.” You nod, scrolling through the shelter’s website, looking at dogs and trying to decide which one looks like it needs love the most. “Lewis knows a lot about dogs, you can ask him about it.” It’s hard to get the sentence out, because Lewis having a say in something about your life just isn’t right.

You shake your head no. “Lewis Hamilton doesn’t sleep in my spare bedroom.” It’s the same argument you make every time you suggest changing something in flat, and while it annoys him that you won’t take any money to pay for small stuff, it still makes him smile.

“What do you think about this one?” you show him a picture of a Jack Russell Terrier, coincidentally named George.

“If you get him you need to change his name.”

“Why?” You ask in fake offense. “I think he looks very much like a George.” But you move on anyway, terriers are too active for your lifestyle, you wouldn’t be able to give him the love he deserves.

You keep on scrolling, feet still in his lap, him still looking through his iPad. You gasp suddenly, pushing yourself up and moving your legs so you can sit on them, much closer to Max. “Look!” you shove your screen in his face. “They just rescued a corgi with puppies! I love corgis!” He can see the excitement in your face and knows that he won’t ever say no to you if you look like that again.

You pull your phone back, reading through the description quickly. “We are keeping Mama and puppies together for a few weeks to ensure health, puppies will be available for adoption in December. Please register interest.” You're pulling out your laptop to send an email when you're done.

Later that night, when you’re trying to sleep you admire how he let you rant about this dog that you’re getting. You love how he always indulges you on topics about your flat; you love that he’ll watch a shitty tv show with you and listen to you rant about the characters. You love that when you ask him questions about racing he answers with so much sincerity and interest that you can’t help but want to know more. You love so much about him that you think you might love him.

No, you know you love him.

That’s how you got here, with Max at a shelter picking up a tiny corgi. Max has been carrying the collar and leash and necessary paperwork as you play with the small dog, contagious laughter falling from your lips.

“Think I should name him Charles, what do you think?” You look up from the ground, eyes so bright and happy. The smile on your face is teasing, but he misses the name because it hits him.

He’s in love with you.

He’s unable to answer you with his sudden realization, because the only words he can think of are “I love you” or long strings of curse words.

You think he doesn’t like your joke and try to back track right away. “I’m kidding, obviously. I’m not gonna name him Charles.” Still Max only stares. “Is everything okay?” You stand up, still holding the puppy in your hands. “I promise I’m not going to name him Charles, but I’m sorry for the joke.” The puppy barks in your arms, snapping Max out of his trance. “What do you need, little one?” You ask the dog, momentarily forgetting Max’s presence. That’s what he needs, just a few seconds of you not looking at him to get his thoughts in line. He can’t be in love with you, because you don’t need a boyfriend. Just friends.

Except he can be in love with you. Because you make him smile all the time, because you offered your spare bedroom to him so he didn’t have to deal with a shitty hotel mattress, because you send him pictures of cats you meet on the street, and let him over explain when you have questions about races. You deal with his mood swings when Jos contacts him. (It’s more than just dealing. You comfort and distract and do anything he needs.)

And maybe you do need just a friend still, but he can still love you.

It takes 20 minutes for you to finish up the paperwork for the shelter, which Max spends playing with the dog and he decides maybe he could be a your dog person.

The ride back to your place is short, your minds replaying the same moment when you asked him what you should name the little puppy sleeping in the back. You feel bad, like you've insulted him; he’s trying to come up with a way to tell you what he’s realized.

Nothing happens that night, and nothing happens when he leaves for Monaco the next morning.

Texts between the two of you comprise of pictures of Denny the corgi, Jimmy and Sassy the cats, and updates on how people liked their presents. It feels off, but you have no idea how to make it feel right.

On December 30th, you plan to catch your flight to Nice, but your father gets into an accident and you can’t leave your mom to deal with everything on your own. You say sorry to Max repeatedly, tell him to wish everyone there a Happy New Year and focus back on the quiet life with Denny.

On December 31st, you wake up to the smell of coffee and toast. It’s alarming because no one else is here, so why does it smell like breakfast?

You push open the door cautiously, forgetting for a moment that Denny is there, so he sneaks out the tiny crack. “Denny! No!” you whisper-shout, hurrying after the little guy, all regard for your own safety lost. You find him in the arms of Max, licking his face and wiggling his butt with untamed excitement. “Max?”

“Hi, schatje.” His smile is almost enough to distract you from the fact that he is here. You approach the two slowly, grabbing Denny from his arms to put him down.

“What are you doing here?” Denny paws at you, reminding you that he needs to go out and do his business.

Max ignores your question, instead pushing a mug of coffee into your hands. “Take this, I’ll take Denny outside.” He grabs Denny from the floor again, making his way to the front where you have his leash hanging up. “Be right back, schatje.” You can only nod at him, watching the two walk out of the front door.

They’re back in two minutes, enough time for you to put out Denny’s breakfast and drink some of your coffee in peace, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that Max is here. The door opens and Denny comes rushing in, Max close behind. He hangs up the leash with his keys, then turns back to you with a smile.

Max takes his own mug, leaning his back against the counter to watch you. “Why are you here?” you ask again.

“You said you couldn’t come to Monaco for New Year’s, so I thought I’d come here.” He says it so casually it irritates you. “Plus, I can take some work off of you or your mom when dealing with your Dad.”

Oh, he’s being sweet. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, but I want to help someone I love.” He says that so casually it catches you off guard. Thank god you didn’t have anything in your mouth or you would have definitely spit it out.

He smirks over his cup, watching you splutter for an answer to his simple confession. “You… you love me?” He nods then puts his mug down. A few steps over to you and he grabs the one in your hands, putting that down next to his own. With his other hand he moves to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. You want to ask what he’s doing, try to stop this before it can even start, but Max is determined. (You’re grateful for that.)

There’s almost no space left between the two of you, just enough really for him to be able to look at your face while he asks if this is okay. A gulp, a breath, and a nod later he’s dipping his head down to yours, closing the distance, and kissing you.

Your eyes close instantly. Your hands travel to their own accord, reaching up to lock around his neck and keep him close. Your ears ring for some odd reason and your nose can only smell coffee. You can taste red bull on his lips and you wonder how long he's been up.

The kiss is soft and slow and over before you really have a chance to appreciate it.

You open your eyes to see him, his lips spread in a wide smile that has you blushing. “Been waiting to do that for a while.” That has you blush even deeper, but he doesn’t let you dip your head to hide it. “Seriously, schatje. I love you.”

“I love you too.” It’s a whisper, but he doesn’t miss it with how close you are. But even if he had missed it, you’ll say it so many more times in the future that people get sick of it.

#max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x fem!reader #max verstappen one shot #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 oneshot #read #danielle writes #my ex is a footballer series

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papaya-twinks · 1 month ago

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mauve - l.n - p.2

Warnings: Swearing, angst, crash, sexism, banter, insulting(?)

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Taglist: @cheriiepies @jan1on @sagestack @fall-bambi @meglouise00 @eclipsedcherry @suzzie105 @rebelatbay @fly-me-away @cabbyhabs @djoenthusiast @georgeparisole @justcharlotte @cutieln4 @amz824 @coff33andb00ks @yoruse @neferaskingdom @dramaticpiratellamas @leonie404 @awritingtree @lolzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz @easy4 @ironmaiden1313

A/N - I’m so happy y’all like it! Remember, message in the comments if you wanna be on the tag list! Also, remember, at this stage of the fic, Lando has 0 wins!

other parts 💜💜

Thankfully for both you and Lando, he didn’t have to see your face for the next few days, not until pre-season testing anyways. You looked great in your suit, the Williams suited you so well, you drove impeccably, your car nowhere as slow as it had been the year before, and Alex had been a healthy 15th.

Hey, could’ve been worse. As you got into your car, your helmet a sweet purple with oil splashes along the side, your number emblazoned on the top, you readied yourself for your first ever drive as part of the Formula One World Championship. Fuck.

You turned sharply right, ready to warm your tyres, checking your mirror and responding to radio messages. “So, Lando’s done a 28.8 for sector one, that’s a 28.8, Y/N,” your engineer said you responded with a simple ‘copy’.

Once your tyres were up and ready you began your lap, sliding through the corners with just the right amount of balance, your concentration unwavering, the places you put the car just perfect. Yes, it was just practise, but it seemed like you’d been doing it for years.

And then, as you began your next lap, heading down the main straight, you caught a flash of orange in your rear-view mirrors, the almost blindingly neon helmet of Lando Norris shimmering behind you. What the fuck was he doing?

No one ever raced during pre-season testing. It was testing. After all. But you were on a hot lap, and you weren’t one to back down, which greatly surprise Lando, as he saw you continue, not letting off a single second. Two could play at that game.

He dove down the inside, his wheel tapping into the side of yours, sending your car onto the rumble strip, your body bouncing in the car. “What’s he playing at?!” you shrieked into the radio. “We’re on it, Y/N,” your engineer reassured.

“So, uh, Y/N, what do you make of the situation with Lando on track?” one of the reporters asked, as you lifted your microphone. You let out a breath of air, a mix of a scoff and sigh as you shrugged. “I’m not responsible nor do I know what he was thinking,” you said simply.

“Maybe if she can look. She’d have seen me,” Lando said, a harsh, hostile laugh on his lips as he rolled his eyes, “this sport would be better off without people who can’t see others on track,”. You didn’t say anything, blinking for a second.

“If you want a change of scenery, F1 Academy’s always open,” you said, moving the straw of your drink to your lips to hide the smug smirk on your lips as you pulled your Williams cap down low on your forehead, your hair smooth, albeit sweaty.

And Lando? He was taken aback. The new girl had bite, huh? Well, so did he. He was Lando fucking Norris after all, not some push over. But neither were you, it supposed. Lando didn’t say anything, he wasn’t one to stroke the fire when he knew how much of a field day the media would have with it.

But that didn’t mean he’d let you get away with it, oh no. He’d make you pay. And pay for it you would, tenfold for what you had done. How you’d insulted him. To Lando, you’d have been a better grid girl than a driver.

You didn’t say anything as you sat in your motor home, now changing into a comfy pair of sweats and a t-shirt, the cold air of a February in Bahrain filing in through your window. You didn’t understand why Lando was even being such a jerk to you.

You hadn’t done anything wrong, you’d only given him what he’d given you first. But if it was gonna be like that, then fine. You could dish it out and if Lando wasn’t okay to take it, so be it. Anyways, testing? It had gone reasonably well, but almost as if to add salt to the wound, mclaren were looking stronger than usual.

Lando would have a field day with that one.

It was half-refreshing to come out of your second FP1 session to see that there were, fortunately, some people who did think Lando was being mean to you. Whilst at the same time, there were people who shipped you? What the hell? That would never happen. And you only did come 13th, and in a car as slow as Williams? That was an achievement and a half.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando x reader #f1 #lando norris smut

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snoopyracing · 2 months ago

Note

HE'S SO GODDAMN STUPID (affectionate) ON THREADS 😭

him replying to simone like they are besties… get in line buddy 😒

#he’s so silly i love him lol #maddie answers stuff #coff33andb00ks

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isaidlandowecanbeworldchampion · 1 month ago

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Violet's Masterlist and Fic Recs

Straight from Vi's Brain

OP81

Lost the Breakup Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

LTB The Archives Part 1

Pretty Girl W/ LN4 Part 2

Pride and Prejudice

LN4

Pretty Girl w/OP81 Part 2

Fics Vi loves

OP81

Give into temptation by @logansargeantsbabymom

All his by @uglyducklingofthe2000s

That’s the thing about illicit affairs by @aceyalonso

This by @vivwritesfics

Beyond boundaries by @mythicalmaven

extraordinary by @mythicalmaven

this by @themultifanshipper

We never talk about it by @cherry-leclerc

A bump in the road by @landoom

Burning Love by @scudevils

LN4

This fic by @cutielando

One of your girls by @fairene Part 2

Not who I Thought by @pinkflower2003-deactivated20240

Sleepy Heads By @annie115

Quid pro quo by @maxlarens

this fic by @theemporium

this fic by @norrisleclercf1

Your Baby daddy ain't a DJ by @iamred-iamyellow

More than Friends by @lnfours

You can call me babe for the weekend by @untitled0433

New romance by @landoscaring

Casual by @rafecameronsslut4ever

CL16

Deal by @golden-cherry

Stitched together by @pucksandpower

Jilted by @pucksandpower

He wins in Monza by @pucksandpower

MV33

So High School by @lewisvinga

Zandvoort by @frogstappen

The rivals by @bunnys-kisses

Ugly guys by @bunnys-kisses

A man worthwhile by @uglyducklingofthe2000s

DR3

TSA by @httpsserene

CS55

Reconnected by @formula1simp

Sip of Sunshine by @httpsserene

SV5

This blurb by @themultifanshipper

LS2

American Idiot by @coff33andb00ks

Worst case kid by @immoral-stranger

#f1 #formula 1 #f1blr #f1 blog #pookies fic recs #lando norris #f1 fic #f1 smut #lando norris smut #f1 masterlist #oscar piastri fanfic

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forzalando · 3 months ago

Note

💌 marissa my beloved ❤️❤️❤️

MY DEAREST VIV!!!!🥹💛 thank you for being you and letting me yap about anything at all without feeling bothersome or crazy🤩 i adore our fic chats, our daydreams, our chats about life, and everything in between. i am so terribly sorry for being MIA and i do miss you lots🥹 you are a treasure and i am so thankful for you and your friendship💛 lots of love, love you lots, sweet viv!!

mutuals send me a 💌 so i can love on you!!

#💌 asks #moots💛#coff33andb00ks

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landossnorriss · 3 months ago

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back to life | lando x older!she

Pairing: lando x older!she. Summary: with a new job on the line and a new adventure on her own for the very first time, she can't afford to risk putting a foot step wrong. it's a shame the younger f1 driver is used to living his life at 200 miles per hour and he's not afraid to pull her along for the ride. Word Count: 2.4ishk Warning: nothing yet... AN: this was going to be a one shot but i think we're looking more around 3-4 parts? i get word vomit and i simply can't stop myself. my intention with this script will be to keep her as non-descript as possible so that people can self insert at their own indulgence, the only thing is she's older than our fave number four. all the older!reader credit inspo goes to the lovely @coff33andb00ks <3

There was a high chance she was going to be sick. Why she had thought that she was ready to be in this position she didn’t know. The Mclaren account was not one that anyone wanted to mess with and at 29 she was officially the youngest person to manage it for Ashurst. Yep, she was going to throw up. When the promotion opportunity had come up she had thrown her hat in the ring for the experience, to test herself and see if she could make it through the interviews for such a role. She had prepped the best she could and told herself any feedback she got would just serve her for when she was well and truly ready to take on an account as large as this one.

It was a good job she had been sitting down when the call had come through to join her boss in the office and celebrate the good news they had to offer her. The job would require a team she knew that, there was no way that she would be able to do it all on her own and the next stages would be deciding on any changes she needed to make and working on the team that would represent Ashurst for Mclaren but it was her name on the door, her choices that would make all the difference. Her say would always be the final one and she was ready to crumble at any given moment at the weight of it all on her shoulders. Impostor syndrome was being a real bitch right now.

This morning she had been so sure that she could manage it, the meetings that she had held so far over Teams and Zoom had all gone swimmingly. Zak was charming and easy to work with, her team seemed to respect her despite the fact she was younger than at least half of them but all the confidence she had managed to muster that she could do this, seemed to leave her as she headed into the Mclaren center for the first time. She had been on a visit just once before, as nothing more than a fan before but now as she felt eyes on her the shirt she had made sure was pristine this morning suddenly didn’t feel smart enough, the click of her heels was too much and she was ready for throwing up all over again.

Today likely hadn’t been the smartest day for her to be introduced to the key players in the game given how overwhelmed she had felt about the account already, but Zak had been insistent. Everyone would be on sight today and it would give her a chance to say hi before everyone vanished for the summer break she knew the team needed. Thank god as the team’s lawyer she wouldn’t be required to travel around with them all that often and most of her work could be done from home. She would miss her bed far too much to be away as often as the rest of the team were. Zak hadn’t been lying either, when he had said that everyone was here and she had given up trying to count the sea of people from where she was tucked into the center waiting for the stars of the show to arrive.

She had never met either driver despite her time working with the team previously and she would keep her excitement over the matter buried deep. There would be no fawning and swooning, no acting star struck. She was a professional, a damn weapon in her field and she would be respected as a perfectly good lawyer, there was nothing and no one that would take her determination to smash everything about this promotion.

Certainly not the green eyed driver currently climbing from his car as the rest of the team cheered for them. She had seen him plenty on the TV and always thought he was handsome, even if he was younger than her, but seeing him in person? Good god she needed to get it together. Day one, it was only day one in the damn office. There was no room to be mesmerized as Lando spoke to the crowds, taunted his team mate and generally seemed to be the center of attention in the room despite the fact there were two papaya boys in the room. This was his home, that much was obvious and these were his people. It filled her chest with an odd sense of pride that these were the groups of people she would be protecting and keeping in line, even from the background.

For his part, Lando wasn’t doing much better at keeping his attention where it needed to be. He’d seen her as soon as he had stepped out of the car, eyes on the woman that stood just behind Zak. In her business-like attire she stood out like a sore thumb in the swarms of papaya and he didn’t mind it one bit. He’d never seen such a pretty face in this damn factory and before he could stop himself he let his eyes trail over her frame, she was older, not by much he assumed but just enough and were it not for the nudge in his side from Oscar he might have continued to stare at her. Who the hell was she? The question had continued to taunt him through the rest of the afternoon as he mingled, took so many photos and smiled so much his face hurt but his eyes had always managed to stray back to her. She had stuck by Zak’s side for most of the afternoon and he felt a flare of something unusual for him, even though it was obvious Zak was introducing her to people.

“If you don’t stop staring at her, she’s going to get a restraining order against you before you’ve even met.” Oscar warned with another jab of his elbow into Landos side, the shorter driver whipping his head back to the younger with a scowl.

“I’m not staring…just - who is she?” He found himself asking and he was unable to hide the tone his question held.

“New team lawyer, or account manager I heard, she works for Ashurst but is our contact.”

Lando frowned once more at the aussie before his green eyes inevitably found themselves looking for her again, desperate to trace over every curve hidden in that pencil skirt. How did Oscar always know everything first and more importantly how did he make that skirt a part of her everyday uniform? Despite everything that had gone on in the season so far, he had still been looking forward to the summer break celebrations and being back at the MTC. It always filled him with some sense of pride but any thoughts of team celebrations were now tucked firmly at the back of his mind because he wasn’t going to be able to concentrate if he didn’t find a way to be introduced to her soon.

“What’s her – “

“Lando, Oscar, you got a second?” Zak called as he finally made his way to his driver pairing, a nervous lawyer in tow with him.

Oscar could only roll his eyes at the expression that had formed on Lando’s face, that boy had never been able to hide anything a day in his life. Zak, squinting at his older driver, stopped allowing her past as they came to a stop in front of the boys. “Boys, this is our new lawyer from Ashurst, she comes with glowing recommendations and she is going to be around more and more so I expect you to be nice.” He offered with a beaming smile as Oscar stepped in first, given the frozen state of Lando, hand held out to the pretty lawyer. She was Lando’s type for sure. “Hi I’m Oscar, or Osc according to this guy, nice to meet you.” Turning his gaze between her and Lando he paused for just a second, the appreciation apparently mutual, before he gave a small cough as Zak was already busy calling someone else over. “And this here is Lando…he’s not a mute I swear.”

She couldn’t help but smile at Oscar for just a moment, a flush on her cheeks as she noted the sarcasm in his tone before her soft gaze returned to Lando. First of all, where was his mother so she could thank her for his creation, and what the hell was he wearing because he smelt incredible. Holding out her hand to the older of the two men she waited for a moment before she felt his rougher hand slip into her own. “Right - I’m Lando, welcome aboard.” God could he sound any more awkward if he tried?

Luckily for both of them, Zak slapped a hand on Landos back, reinserting himself into the moment. “All introduced? I’ve invited our new lovely lawyer to the team dinner tonight when there are a few less of us so we can all get to know each other. How does that sound?” He beamed as he looked between everyone, a little slow on the uptake.

“Yes, yes!” Lando beamed, god he knew he loved Zak for a reason. “I think that’s a great idea you should come with us!”

“Oh I don’t want to intrude and I don’t, I don’t actually drive, where is the dinner tonight?” She flushed furiously at the idea she worked for a company like Mclaren now and still couldn’t drive. It simply wasn’t her fault that the clutch hated her.

Lando, oblivious to the looks Oscar and now Zak were giving him, was already beaming with ideas forming in his head. Hot older woman, he could drive, a practical date. Win, win, win. Before Zak could even offer her a car Lando was already stepping closer to her. “I can pick you up, don't worry, it will do you good to arrive with a friend, arriving on your own might be a lot.”

“Oh no Lando, you really don’t have to.”

“Please.” The young driver scoffed with a wave of his hand. “Is that your phone, I’ll put my number in.”

Feeling the blush she wore deepend she nodded, handing over her phone to the driver. He was being sweet, that was all she told herself because there was no way in hell it was anything more. He was, god he was gorgeous and she had seen the women he went for, younger, tiny, famous. She didn’t fit a single piece of his usual type, likely just an inch shorter than him in the heels she wore, her hips wider than most women cared for and five years older than him.

“There you go, text me your address and I’ll pick you up at six thirty?” He offered, full charm in swing as he looked back at her. She was pretty from afar, but upclose? Lando just wanted to count each of her freckles and bumble over his words as he tried to flatter her.

She needed a moment to compose herself and recenter, she had been flirted with before, she was pretty she knew that, but the men had never been, well fucking Lando Norris and big red flags that she was not allowed to flirt with in return. “Thank you, Mr Norris, I’m just going to go find the bathroom I’ll text you my address for later.” Maybe, she might still pull out if she could think of a good enough reason to do so. With the most awkward wave she could muster she found herself spinning on her heels, a string of curses sounding in her head as she tried to look calm whilst she was scurrying away to any form of locked bathroom door she could find for a very real mental breakdown. This was bad, this was very, very bad.

Watching as she left Lando was pretty sure he let out an audible sigh. God what a fucking woman. Only the cough behind him brought him back to his current surroundings and he spun to face the questioning gaze of his boss and amusement of his teammate. “You’re not fucking the new lawyer.” Zak confronted boldly, that would be a can of worms he did not want to deal with. “End of, drive her to dinner, play nice, be ready to never be allowed to be alone with her ever again.”

Lando wanted to protest straight away, that wasn’t fair, they couldn’t dangle something so sweet in front of him like that and then tell him that he wasn’t allowed to have it! Opening his mouth to protest Lando was met with a strong shake of his head as Zak took his leave, Oscar still fighting back laughter at the whole situation. “You’re so, so screwed mate. So screwed.”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando x reader #f1 edit

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tinyhrry · 4 months ago

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F1 fic recs

Oscar Piastri

under the sea @papayadays

glued together @uglyducklingofthe2000s

all his

like mother like father

my koala

clara bow @khaylin27

u know how to ball i know aristotle @harrysfolklore

opposite @jo-com

bambi

only his sweetheart pt 2 @lovebittenbyevans

missing piece @fastandcarlos

stolen my heart

summer samba @taasgirl

rabbit princess @starsinscript

just benefits right now @norrizzandpia

yn and the piastri sisters

this @maxlarens

not subtle

distanced @nightlyvoids

please please please @florencesf1blog

i love u @b0r3dtod3ath

shut up @spiderbeam

random texts @requiemforthepoets

the secret of us @afterglowsainz

obsessed

fan interactions @pastryfication

sleep

anything for u @f1-jay

fake dating @lcriedlastnight

lippies and lies @its-avalon-08

cant a girl appreciate her boyfriend @lateatnewyork

locked in closet @claypgeon

close to u @iamred-iamyellow

u are in love @ttpdsargeant

holding hands @coff33andb00ks

very important person @mclarns

look out for the quiet ones @astonmartinii

cute reporter @crazy-only

Lando Norris

sun tattoos @uglyducklingofthe2000s

to have and to hold

want u here

nose bleed

never pay a penny

she hides

if u want me, keep me

get ur arse back here

cuddle me

i go lower @sharlsworld

parents these days

follow u arround pt 2 @formulamoons

once in a lifetime @ln4smiamitrophy

wrong carvajal @landorris

matchmaker @cutieleclerc

please @uluvjay

mama y papa @httpsserene

our love is strong @mrsfancyferrari

jealousy @inevesgf

one of ur girls @fairene

squish @maxlarens

on a night like tonight @pastryfication

chilly @816wdc

i like to think of u as mine @starsinscript

shoulder @spiderbeam

nothing good ever happens after 2 am

lovesick @lcriedlastnight

i am that rich man @foreveralbon

so high school @afterglowsainz

ur going to be parents? @skjbri

forever young

masterpiece @https-papaya

can u see me using everything to hold back @norrizzandpia

changed man @julyretrograde

nap time @chrisevansonly

secret of us @ickie

casual @eveninggstar

waffles @heartysworld

just us and ur friend steve @claypgeon

Carlos Sains

the way you are @uglyducklingofthe2000s

lalalove @sofs16

not without u @fastandcarlos

not allowed @theyluvkarolina

feather

81 x 4

i have needs too @pucksandpower

take care @scuderiahoney

Grid

proud of you @formula-nyoom

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maxlarens · 2 months ago

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hello jack doohan lovers. pls excuse any weird characterisation etc, i’ve never written jack before and am writing this because @coff33andb00ks gave me brain worms about this idea for jack x oscar’s childhood bsf!reader:

Oscar’s your friend. Your oldest friend in fact.

Which is to say you’re proud of him and his big boy job as a Formula One driver. And, of course, you’re endlessly grateful for the opportunity to follow him around the world in return for your services as his social media lackey. It’s a job you enjoy even. Which is not to say that you’ve got any kind of ulterior motive to show up on race weekends—

Nope. None at all!

It’s certainly got nothing at all to do with the fellow Australian Flynn Rider-lookalike that hangs around Alpine hospitality. Nothing whatsoever.

Jack Doohan isn’t even on your radar. And you certainly don’t keep an eye out for a flash of warm brown hair or that Roman nose of his. The familiar Australian accent in a crowd, grey-blue eyes shining in the sun, the tooth that often catches on his bottom lip—

No. You don’t pay attention to Jack Doohan at all.

Well, at least not as far as Oscar is concerned.

Cootie-ridden, annoying, pain-in-your-arse, Oscar.

Who as far as you know, thinks you’re still seven years old and pushing him into the sandpit in your parent’s backyard. Who honestly thinks all boys look at you and still see the little girl with pigtail braids who used to play race-cars with him. Which, well, is the same way you look at Oscar and see the kid who used to pick his boogers and spend hours reading his favourite racing magazine to you when you just wanted to play Barbies.

So whatever, you’re even—

You think his girlfriend is crazy for being in love with him and he doesn’t think Jack Doohan has a crush on you.

Oh yeah: you think Jack Doohan has a crush on you. Or you might have a crush on Jack Doohan, who’s to say?

It’s really not some baseless accusation you’re spouting with no evidence. Again, Oscar just thinks you still have cooties. And, okay, y’know what, see for yourself—

You swear this time you’re only outside Alpine hospitality on accident. Oscar and Lando are wrapped up in some McLaren PR thing and you’re filming B-roll of the paddock to use in a reel you’re thinking about making. Ending up by Alpine was a total mistake.

Not that it bothers you much when the object of your affection turns up regardless.

You hear the scuff of shoes against gravel and feel a presence hovering at your back before you know it’s him. Somehow, you know it’s him anyway. As if you’re linked by some cosmic thread. As if you’re attuned to his very aura… Not that you believe in that stuff. But it is weird. The way you know him without sight.

You feel his hair tickle your cheek as he leans over your shoulder, all up in your space.

You don’t mind.

“Hard at work, huh?” he teases into your ear, his breathy laugh making you suppress a shiver.

“Mm hm,” you answer, tight lipped, trying to keep the camera stabilised despite yourself, “Doin’ my job.”

He moves away and you finally hit the button to stop recording. You spin around to face him, trying not to let a full-blown grin appear on your face. He’s doing something similar, half-grin, that snaggletooth you like so much on display. Eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

“Was that a jab at me?”, he raises his eyebrows (can’t raise just one, you’ve discovered).

You make a face, shake your head, “No, I would never,” you tell him in an exaggerated tone that says you’re taking the piss.

He scoffs, points a finger at you, “I’ll have you know that I was on the sim until three in the morning.”

You laugh this time, loud, tucking your phone into your back pocket and trying to resist the urge to lean into him like girls do in the movies. Hand on his shoulder, folding in half, like he’s just said the funniest thing ever. Like he’s not just some guy with brown hair and pretty eyes.

“Yeah, I know, Jack. You don’t let anyone forget it.”

His eyes widen impishly, “People need to know.”

“Sure do,” you smile broadly; meaning it, also taking a bit of a jab at Alpine’s chronic ‘middle-of-the-pack’-ness without being too mean, “Where would Alpine be without you?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, “In the gutter, with Williams, probably.”

You both burst suddenly into a fit of laughter. Neither one of you leaning on the other, but close to it. You’re sure it looks suspicious— Oscar Piastri’s known best friend and Alpine’s reserve driver bent over and giggling with each other— but you can’t bring yourself to care.

Being around Jack is intoxicating.

He makes your head spin and your heart race and your chest feel like it’s got some yawning sun inside of it. When you’re with him you always want more. To hear him talk, to watch his expressions shift, to feel him, warm and there and next to you. It’s never enough.

You want you want you want,

He occupies your mind when he’s not around. You think back on your texts. Interactions that the two of you have had. How he looked on a certain day. If you’re being too annoying by replying to his Instagram stories—

It shouldn’t matter. It does anyway. You want him to like you, so desperately that there’s an ache pulsing in the middle of your chest. Right in the centre of your ribs.

Sometimes, you think he wants you to like him too.

You’re drunk on it— him, the laughter— it makes your fingers tingle when you look at him. Not sure if this is the Moment exactly, but feeling something in the air anyway. The way his mouth is parted, the way the corner of it lifts. It’s not the Something, but it is something. Or at least it’s something until,

well, until Oscar—

Oscar who comes barreling over like there’s not palpable electricity between you and Jack right now.

“Hey man,” he says, as you’re watching them dap each other up like Oscar isn’t totally ruining any chance to flirt further with the Alpine reserve driver. You roll your eyes covertly. Huff audibly when Oscar drags you away for PR duties. Send Jack a beaming smile over your shoulder anyway, get one in return that makes you all warm and fuzzy and hopeful.

Oscar side eyes you, “Why do you look all red?”

You raise an eyebrow, hair flicking into your own face as you snap your head to look at him, “Excuse me?”

He gestures at his own face, then points at yours, “Dunno. You’re all red. Did you say something embarrassing to Jack? He probably doesn’t care—”

“Oh my god,” you cut him off, “Are you that blind?”

He frowns, furrows his eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

You jut a thumb at Alpine hospitality in the distance, careful to keep your voice low, “You don’t think there was something back there? Like between Jack and I?”

Oscar stares at you for a long moment. Dumbfounded. Utterly confused. So much so that you begin to get annoyed at his silence. What does it say that your boy-best-friend can’t even imagine a guy having a crush on you? Are you really that insane for thinking Jack might?

“You and Jack?” he asks.

“Jack and I,” you repeat, tone clipped.

He’s quiet for another long second. Then he’s shaking his head like it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard,

“No,” he’s saying in that way that’s trying to sound like a maybe but betrays his true feelings on the matter.

You scoff indignantly, then shove him hard enough that he stumbles into a wall. He’ll eat his words one day, you know it.

hope u guys enjoyed🥺

#jack doohan x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula one fanfic #💫drabbles #drabbles:jd #f2 x reader #<- that counts right???

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