#if oscar had more pace later on in the race

[racewinners-landoandsam]

the thing that pisses me off the most is that lando is always the first to say how amazing the team is. when they do well, when they win, it's a win for the team. when they make a mistake, when they lose, it's his mistake, nothing to do with the team. doesn't matter if it's a messed up pitstop or a mistake on track, it's always his mistake.

'you need the team' a team that's happy to win with him, but won't help him win.

'you need oscar' well oscar's made it obvious that he doesn't want to help lando get the championship, is even risking the team championship for his own agenda.

which he ultimately ended up losing out on. oscar is ahead of carlos in the championship, he's catching charles, but by what he chose to do at the beginning, it ended with charles scoring more points than him, and is risking lando's championship. it's reckless and stupid, and mclaren should be doing more to help the better driver

[sunrizef1]

Speak for Yourself

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Authors Note: not edited woohoo, back to your regularly scheduled programming, planning to shut up now lol

Word count: 4.6k I think

Warnings: light cursing, AUS 24, not edited, inaccurate information regarding f2 seasons for the sake of the plot

Summary: You’d been around as long as Logan had, it was no time until one of the drivers developed a crush on you. Oscar had thought it was obvious you weren’t single. Guess not.

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Growing up, Oscar had always known he was quieter than a lot of his friends. He’d just rather keep to himself than be loud in his day-to-day life. Even Logan was considered loud when around the Aussie, and considering Logan was pretty quiet himself, that was impressive.

Everyone around him knew he preferred to be private. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share things with his friends and family, it was just that having his own life was more convenient.

One of the things he’d always been private about, was his relationships. He’d had girlfriends growing up, none of them really sticking around too long as the times changed.

But then he met you. 2018. Logan had introduced you as his best friend, Oscar decided not to be offended. You were the opposite of the Australian. You were loud and happy and Oscar was absolutely captivated by you. He’d asked Logan if he was allowed to ask you out and the American had just laughed with a nod, Oscar practically running over to you the second the race was over.

Of course, you were 17 so Oscar didn’t exactly have the emotional maturity to realize he was in love with you at the time. It only took him six months to say it out loud, though. Three years later and you two were still going strong, Oscars career only moving upwards as he raced through the 2021 F2 season.

Logan had been trying to find a way to get you a job with him the whole season. You’d just agreed, choosing to follow him around for a whole year as he moved through different series. He’d never have told Oscar but he’d needed your support more than anything. Just having to cycle through seats and races and series had drained him, you needing to practically talk him off the ledge multiple times throughout the year.

But you did get a few races with Oscar. Toward the end of the year, Logan got to race alongside his friend, meaning you got to hang out with your boyfriend. Your boyfriend, who was looking likely to win the entire championship.

“Are you nervous?” You hummed under your breath, your words echoing around the silence of the dark hotel room. You feel Oscar shift behind you, his arm tightening around your torso. The next morning, he’d be racing to win the championship, hopes and dreams laid out before him.

“I don’t think so,” he pauses, contemplating his words, “I think I was. Not anymore though, I’ve got you with me. That’s enough for me.”

You take a second to think through his words before a grin splits your face, skin heating up as the sentence sinks in, “I love you, Osc.”

The man in question shifts again, swinging his other arm around to wrap you tighter in his hold, “I love you too.”

You eventually fall asleep, letting the quiet of the room paired with the sound of the beating heart behind you, lull you to bed.

The next day, Oscar wins the championship, your loud yells sounding uncharacteristically quiet in the cacophony of screaming voices that surround you. He doesn’t sprint over to you or anything, big gestures not really his style. But he does make eye contact with you with a warming smile once he steps out of the car and that’s enough for you to know exactly how he feels in that moment.

Logan, though, is being very weird. You were sat in your boyfriend’s room, watching Logan practically wear a hole in the carpet with his constant pacing. He walked back and forth through the room with an absent mind and shaky hands. Throughout the year you’d been forced to follow him around, you somehow hadn’t seen him this nervous the whole time. Impressive considering he’d met about 100 very important people in the span of about two weeks.

“What’s your problem?” Logan’s eyes snap toward you, eyebrows shooting up as he looks at you with wide eyes.

“Nothing,” you roll your eyes at his quickly worded response, he didn’t seem to be in a too concerning state of being so you opted to leave him alone. He’d be fine eventually. He’d also looked about the same last week when the Dolphins had almost lost. He’d recovered from that too.

Your head instead turns toward where the door has just opened. You watch your boyfriend walk through, his gaze immediately catching on the weirdo pacing in the corner.

“Hi, Logan?” Oscar hums with a confused look on his face. Logans gaze locks onto the older Aussie, a stupid grin splitting the Americans face.

“Congrats, Oscar. Have a great evening,” Logan says, slapping his friend on the shoulder. The dumb grin is back on the blond man’s face, proving your earlier hypothesis that he’d heal from his paranoia relatively quickly.

Oscar, on the other hand, is surprisingly quick to take over Logan’s role as village weirdo, moving to rush Logan out of the room. Logan leaves, not before he gives Oscar a suspicious glance but Oscar just replies by shoving him out. You dismiss it as annoyance at the man for intruding, though your eyes do stay trained on the door Logan had just left though for more than a few moments.

“He’s so weird,” you mumble, a confused look on your face as you think back to your friends actions.

“Yeah, he is,” Oscar replies, rolling his eyes. There’s a second layer of agreement laced through his words, though you don’t catch the fact he might have a different reason to agree. You hum, still trying to decode why your friend had been acting like that, not even figuring the cause might be the man in front of you.

Oscar pulls your attention back toward him as he rests a hand on your face, gently tilting your head toward him, “I have dinner reservations for tonight. That place you’d talked about this morning.”

You smile, completely forgetting about Logan’s loser behavior, “Sounds great.”

Oscar grins before letting go of your face, the feeling of his grasp still lingering on your skin, “I’m gonna take a shower, then we can go back to the hotel.”

You laugh, pushing him away from you gently. Oscar stumbles dramatically, causing your laugh to get louder. You don’t notice how Oscar’s smile gets bigger in sync with your happiness.

“Go, then. You stink.”

Oscar pulls a face, offense painting his features, “Rude.”

You snort, rolling your eyes as he moves toward the bathroom, “Go, nerd!”

Oscar laughs a final time before finally stepping into the room, shutting the door behind him. You collapse onto the couch you’re sitting on, mind running with thoughts of the dinner you were about to go to and recent memories of the pure elation you were feeling after Oscar’s win. Content fills your body as you relax, faint sounds of the shower the only sound filtering through your ears.

A few hours later, you’re sat across from your boyfriend, laughing over your food while sharing anecdotes back-and-forth, laughs probably a little too loud for the really nice restaurant.

Oscar grabs the bill from the waiter, smiling politely as the man walks away momentarily. Oscar pulls his card out and slides it back in his wallet before putting it in his back pocket, moving to stand up afterward. You grin as he holds a hand out to you, helping you to your feet.

You hum warmly, tiredness spreading through you as you approached the conclusion of a pretty long day. The food had been delicious and the atmosphere was wonderful.

You had thought you’d be going straight back to the hotel, considering Oscar still had to race again tomorrow.

But as you exit, Oscar pulls you away from the car, interlocking his fingers with yours. You shoot your eyebrows up as you glance at your boyfriend, a tight smile on his lips.

“I thought we could go for a walk on the beach, maybe? It’s really pretty,” Oscar stares straight ahead as he says the words, gaze seemingly avoiding yours. But when you don’t answer for a second, he does glance over to you and you finally nod with a small smile.

“Sure, I’d love that.”

Oscar gulps, a big grin splitting his face. He looks back toward the sand a bit ahead of you, moving to slowly stroll down it with you by his side. You let out a relaxed sigh, head falling into his shoulder. Oscar had been right, this was very pretty. Lights lit up the sand around you, reflecting off the ocean waves that crashed toward you. The sun is starting to set in the distance, casting warm hues over the sky.

You do stop to pull of your heels and Oscar is quick to hold them in his hands, resuming in his passive, slow walk.

You make bare comments about how pretty your surroundings were, the sound of silence just not satisfying you. Although you do leave enough time between sentences to truly take in the calmness that comes with the ocean scenery, wave sounds in the silence and all.

You eventually come to a point some ways down the beach that has more lights than the rest. They form a little semi-circle that perfectly light up the area. Oscar pulls you to a stop in the middle of them and he turns you both to look out at the ocean. You swear you hear a sound from behind you but when you glance over, the beach is clear of anyone else so you turn back around to gaze toward the sunset.

The sun is about halfway down in the horizon and you find your gaze locked on the pink and orange that fades through the sky. You’re so focused that you don’t notice that Oscars grasp on you disappears. When you turn around to point out the colors to your boyfriend, a sharp gasp leaves your throat.

“Oh my god, Osc-!”

You cut yourself off with a hand over your mouth as you look down at your boyfriend, kneeling in the sand, a small box clutched in his hands.

You don't remember much of his speech, too busy trying to not start absolutely sobbing. But you do remember the last words that leave his mouth before the ring is slid onto your finger.

“Will you marry me?”

You nod quickly, hands shaking as Oscar stands up to put the ring onto you. You stare down at it for a few seconds as Oscars hands rest on your waist, waiting for your reaction. You look up, moving through the shock in your veins. You grasp his face in your hands and pull him down into an emotionally-charged kiss, feeling his arms wrap around you tighter.

He smiles into the kiss, head resting against yours once you finally pull away. You look into his eyes for a second before laughing and leaning away, tears dripping down your face.

“That was so wonderful, Osc,” you say through your tears, wiping your face with the back of your hand.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Oscar smiles before it drops slightly, a grimace pulling onto his face, “because Logan’s been in that bush the whole time.”

Your head whips toward the bush Oscars hand is outstretched toward, eyebrows furrowed as you search the greenery.

An incredulous laugh leaves your throat as Logan pops his head up, a sheepish glance in your direction being all he offers in response. You snort, grinning as you notice the nice-looking camera in his hands.

“Come here, idiot,” you smile, waiting for your friend to emerge from the bushes so you can share this moment with the man who’d been your closest friend for your entire life, “‘At least, now I know why you were acting like that.”

That was, of course, 2021. Now, two years later, you were still following Logan around. But now, with the Floridian entering F1, you had a contract and a paycheck that came with it. Anyone who didn’t know Logan would think you were his assistant. Which you technically were. But anyone who did know Logan, would instead refer to you as his paid-best-friend, many jokes about him paying you to hang around being thrown his way from fans and fellow drivers alike.

It was very convenient that your husband was entering F1 at the same time as the man who employs you, opening up so many more chances to spend time with Oscar.

No one really questioned Oscar’s continued presence in the Williams garage. Everyone knew that him and Logan had always been close so when he was spotted in the white and blue, no one batted an eye.

Not even his new teammate, who claimed to know the Aussie better than anyone else on the grid. Lando just assumed Oscar was really eager to see his friend every day. Lando didn’t consider that he saw Logan every weekend anyway and that maybe the speed with which he got to Williams might be a little too fast to just be for a close friend.

No one from Williams questioned it either. They all knew that Logan and Oscar had grown up as friends. So when Oscar seemed pretty close to one of Logan's closest friends, they didn't question it. It only made sense.

You didn’t hang around the rest of the grid very often during Oscar and Logan’s first season. You didn’t really know any of the other drivers so you, instead, spent all your time in Williams, Alex and Lily becoming fast friends of yours.

But in 2024, you started to come around more, choosing to venture out of the garage and talk more to the drivers you’d met over the past year. One of the garages you had started to frequent more was McLaren, your husband quite excited to have you in the Papaya as opposed to your usual blue.

You went to the garage purely for Oscar. But he wasn’t always the only driver hanging around. The papaya garages were often frequented by drivers from other teams. Specifically, the Ferrari drivers loved to make their presence in the garages known.

It was the Australian GP, Oscar’s home race and only the third race of the season. You’d only came over to McLaren a few times over the past three races, but you were currently occupied with Logan after his car had been taken away so you were nowhere to be seen.

Oscar was sat with his teammate in hospitality, talking about pretty much anything as they waited out the few hours they had before they had to do anything.

“Lando!” The voice of a loud Spanish man has Oscar’s face splitting into a grimace. He turns his head to see none other than Carlos Sainz making his way toward the pair in papaya, Charles Leclerc in tow behind him.

Lando grins beside him, eyes lighting up as he looks toward his friend. Lando glances down toward his teammate to assess the look on the Aussies face before he stands up and clasps Carlos on the shoulder, “Hey, Carlos!”

Oscar looks away from the two of them, gaze landing on Charles who stands awkwardly to the side. Oscar catches his eye before gesturing for him to sit down in one of the free chairs around the table the McLaren boys had been occupying . Charles smiles gratefully, happy to break the strange stance he’d been stuck in previously.

After successfully bro-ing it out, Lando and Carlos eventually sit down at the table, chairs sliding against the grown loudly as they shift around.

“How are you both feeling about the race?” Carlos asks, eyes shifting between Lando and Oscar, though his gaze does stop on the Brit.

Oscar, though, pipes up to answer the Spaniards question before Lando can, “We feel pretty good. It’s a home race so that’s always great.”

Carlos hums absently, eyes seemingly searching for something behind Oscar. Oscar glances behind him quickly to see if there’s anything worth mentioning but is met with nothing but Papaya shirts. He turns back around. Weird.

Lando seems to notice Carlos’ weird behavior as well, his eyebrows furrowing as he glances around as well before looking back to the Spaniard, “You looking for something, Carlos?”

Carlos’ eyes snap back to the curly-haired man, heat rising to his cheeks as he realizes he’s been caught, “No, nothing.”

Charles snorts from beside his teammate, sticking a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle the laugh threatening to leave his throat. Carlos glares at the Monegasque lightly, only making Charles laugh harder before Carlos leans forward to explain.

“Where is that Williams girl?” Carlos asks with a small smile and a confused look passes over Oscar’s face. Who the hell is he talking about?

Charles seems to catch the matching confusion on the McLarens face, rolling his eyes at Carlos’ blunt delivery before starting to explain himself, “Carlos in love with that girl Logan hangs around with. The one that’s always in McLaren for some reason.”

Carlos nods in agreement, leaning back in his chair with satisfaction. Oscar feels his stomach drop.

“I’m not in love with her, I just think she’s really pretty.”

Charles laughs, eyes going wide in response, “Carlos you look for her every time we’re in this garage. You’ve been asking to come over here just so you can see her.”

Lando gasps dramatically, a big grin painting his face, “And here I was, thinking you’d been coming around so you could see me!”

The other three drivers at the table laugh but Oscar stays quiet, teeth digging hard into his bottom lip. An unreasonable annoyance filled him at Carlos’ words, eyes rolling as he watches the Spaniard go on about his love for you, Oscar’s wife.

“Why’ve you never gone to Williams to look for her?” Lando interjects after a few more seconds of mindless rambling from Carlos about you. Carlos glances sideways at Charles, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

“Never wanted to bother Logan, I guess. We’re not really friends,” Carlos shrugs.

Lando tilts his head, shaking it slightly, “I’m sure Logan wouldn’t mind.”

Oscar has to stop himself from scoffing at Landos words. If only he knew how much Logan would mind.

“Yeah, I’ll go over there in a minute. Maybe I’ll actually shoot my shot this time.”

Oscar stands up suddenly, chair screeching against the floor as it pushes backward.

“Where you going, mate?” Lando goes to ask but Oscar’s already practically ran away, feet carrying him quickly toward the Williams garage.

The three drivers he’s left behind look between each other with confused faces, all having no idea what made the Aussie leave so quickly.

Oscar, though, makes it to Williams in record time. Running between employees and the like, weaving his way to Logan’s room. He slams the door open, ignoring the strange glances from Williams employees around him.

He pauses as he sees the sight in front of him, Logans head resting heavily in your lap as you run a hand through the blonds hair. The dejected look on Logans face is enough to make Oscar grimace and move quieter as he enters the room. You glance up with the concerned expression still painting your features. Logan doesn't look up, eyes closed tightly and pure distaste clearly present.

“Hey Osc,” you practically sigh, eyes shifting back down to Logan for a moment. Only after hearing your words does Logan open his eyes, looking over toward the Aussie.

“Hey guys,” Oscar says carefully, his previous reason for rushing into Williams now momentarily forgotten.

Logan mumbles under his breath and closes his eyes again, nodding at Oscar before he does. You pat his head softly and he rolls over, moving his head away from you so you can stand up and talk to Oscar.

“Whats up?” you try to smile through your obvious grimace and Oscar smiles painfully in response.

He nods his head toward Logan who's now lying face-down on the couch, “Is he okay?”

“No, not a great weekend with the whole chassis thing,” You reply, trying to keep your voice low enough so Logan doesn't hear.

Apparently you weren't quiet enough as you hear a muffled shout echo through the small room.

“Im fine!” You can barely hear through the couch cushion but he’s just audible enough.

You shake your head at Oscar, sighing deeply, “Did you need something?”

Oscar nods slightly, grasping your hand in his and pulling you out of the room and away from Logan. Not that Oscar didn’t want to support his friend but he honestly didn’t know what to say. And he was obviously okay with you leaving or he wouldn’t have rolled away from you.

“Do you wanna come back to McLaren hospitality?” Oscar asks, dragging his finger over the wedding ring sat proudly on your ring finger. You notice his attention on the ring and tilt your head slightly.

“For any specific reason?”

Oscar shakes his head innocently, trying to take any look of suspicion off his face. Though it seems you know him too well as you raise an eyebrow and tilt your head, not believing his story.

Oscar rolls his eyes, admitting defeat, “Fine. Carlos was talking about how in love with you he is and I was getting annoyed about it.”

You laugh slightly, not expecting Oscar to claim that the Spaniard was in love with you. But when you see the blush on your husband’s face, you grin softly and pull him into a hug, grasping his face in your hands, “It’s okay, Osc. I only have eyes for you, darling.”

Oscar blushes harder, letting out a small laugh as you pepper his face with kisses and he reaches up a hand to bat your face away from his.

“Come on, let’s go show Carlos what he can’t have,” You laugh, marching forward with Oscar’s hand wrapped tightly in yours. Oscar laughs, following along behind you. But he’s secretly grateful you were willing to shut Carlos’ pining down, not sure if he could take Carlos, of all people, talking about his crush on you for any longer, “Even if he’s not there I’ll still get Logan something to eat.”

You reach the McLaren hospitality quickly enough, garnering some strange looks from people around you as they see your clasped hands. But you pay them no mind, more focused on getting to the food. Oscar drags along behind you, watching as you grab two plates of food, careful not to spill as you balance the plate for both yourself and Logan. Oscar untangles your fingers from his so he can grab one of the plates out of your hand, leading you toward a table so you can eat the food you’ve grabbed for yourself.

Oscar sits across from you as you start to pick at the food lazily, stabbing a lone grape with your fork before bringing it to your mouth. You seemed to have stopped caring about the potential Carlos sighting but Oscar was on high-alert, eyes trailing over the room.

His eyes catch on a scrap of red fabric over your shoulder and he moves his chair slightly closer to you, praying the Spaniard doesn’t catch sight of you. Oscar moves his knee to knock against yours and you smile warmly through the bite of watermelon you’d just taken.

You sit peacefully for a few minutes, eating quietly as Oscar seemingly keeps watch. You don’t ask him why he couldn’t just tell Carlos you were married himself but you don’t question his motives. Men were confusing.

Both of you are surprised when a figure walks up to stand above you. You glance up and see a grumpy-looking blonde man with tousled hair and a disgruntled face looking down at the two of you, exhaustion clear in his eyes.

“Hey, lo. Gotchu food,” You say, sliding the plate toward the American. He hums, glancing around the room. Oscar watches as he sees Carlos and then looks back, glancing between the Aussie and the enemy he had decide to make today.

“Brb,” Logan mumbles with crossed arms, slinking off to a destination you can’t see. But Oscar can, and he watches as his friend slides up to a certain Ferrari driver, his usual shy attitude abandoned due to his already-shit race weekend.

Oscar takes the opportunity to fully move his chair next to yours, grasping your open hand in his, passively fiddling with your wedding ring. You roll your eyes but relax your hand in his, allowing him the chance to be as possessive as he wants.

“Hey, man,” Carlos says as Logan reaches him. Really good timing actually, he’d been wanting to talk to him about you.

Logan blinks through his tiredness, frowning at the older man, “Hey, Carlos.”

Carlos grins, deciding to stick through the poor attitude from the blonde man in front of him, having no idea just how poor this was about to go for him, “I was actually going to ask you about that friend of yours. The pretty American one you’re always with.”

Logan blinks again, glancing back toward the papaya polo sat next to you before he looks back, “Y/N?”

Carlos shrugs, smile unfaltering, “I guess so, any way you could get me her number?”

Logan chews his cheek a bit, eyes quickly switching between the ground and Carlos’ face, “Nah, man. She's taken.”

Only then does Carlos’ face falter, his eyebrows furrowing slightly with confusion, “Really?”

Logan holds back his laugh, rubbing at his eyes as he starts to lose the tiredness he'd previously had, “Yeah, yeah. Married actually.”

Carlos’ head snaps toward the Williams driver, mouth opening slightly as he shakes his head, “No way, mate. You’re joking.”

“I don’t think I am,” Logan smirks, head tilting toward where you’re sitting, “You could ask her but I don’t think he’d let you get within 10 feet after this morning.”

Logan watches as Carlos’ gaze lands on you and your husband, mouth gaping as he catches Oscar’s hands fiddling with the ring on your finger, “Shit…”

“Yeah, shit indeed,” Logan nods, starting to walk away and leave the Spaniard to revel in his shock, “Have a good race, Carlos. I won’t be seeing you out there.”

You finally look up to see Logan sit down across from you, sliding his own plate over to himself and starting to munch down on the food you’d picked for him.

Oscar raises an eyebrow as he catches the incredulous look on Carlos’ face, “What was that about?”

“Just told him you’re married,” Logan mumbles through a mouth full of strawberries, chewing passively, “Had to spell it out for him, been dropping hints for months.”

You glance toward you friend with confusion painting your face, “What do you mean?”

“Yeah, I’ve been scaring him off from Williams since last October. Don’t think he even realized I was doing it on purpose.”

You and Oscar catch eyes, small grins breaking out on your faces as Logan continues to stare intently at his snack.

“Thanks, Logan,” you smile, happy to hear about your friends committed defense of your marriage.

“Don’t thank me, I’m still in a bad mood,” he says as he stabs a grape violently, biting the green sphere with a crunch.

Oscar hums, pulling you into him and resting his head on top of yours, eyes falling closed momentarily, “Sure, Logan. Eat your food, you’ll feel better.”

Logan just replies with a stab of his fork and you laugh, relaxing against your husband behind you, grateful for the great friend you’ve got in front of you.

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Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

[arieslost]

fireproofs | ln4

summary: lando norris is hot and the 2024 fireproofs drive you crazy.

word count: 756

warnings: suggestive comments

masterlist — join my tag list here!

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

you’ve been grateful to mclaren for many things over the years, but aside from a fast car, this has to be the best gift they’ve bestowed upon you.

you don’t think it’s an exaggeration when you say that your jaw unhinged the first time you saw lando wearing the new black fireproofs that mclaren has him and oscar in for the 2024 season. he’d sent you pictures, along with a text saying, “what do you think? 👀”

you’d responded with “yeah, not bad” and subsequently spent the next half hour screaming into your pillow. you were able to save face over text, but now that testing is here, you’re a lost cause.

you’d seen lando in black fireproofs before, but something about this year is different. something about him is different. he’s more confident, more determined, and he somehow managed to fill out even more during winter break.

lando had felt bad for mclaren’s car launch sabotaging your valentine’s day, so while you were in the middle of insisting that it wasn’t a big deal, he was booking you a plane ticket to join him in bahrain for the grand prix and testing the week before.

so now, you’re twiddling your thumbs as you sit in your boyfriend’s driver room, both anxious to see him before his testing session begins and hoping he’ll be occupied on the pit wall for just a little longer so you can figure out how to keep your composure once he changes into his race suit.

“you’re still here?” it comes out like half an exclamation and half a question as lando slips into the room.

“you haven’t even gone out on the track, of course i’m still here,” you giggle when he pulls you into his arms and starts pressing kisses all over your face. “i can’t wait to see you put the car through its paces. oscar looked pretty good out there.”

“i’d rather put you through your paces,” he mumbles in your ear, and you smack his shoulder.

“maybe later, if you’re not too tired.”

“i’m never too tired for you.” he winks and kisses your nose before turning to change.

you have no shame in ogling his ass out of the corner of your eye as he does so, but for the most part you’re looking at updates from the first session on your phone until he sits down next to you to put his shoes on.

those damn fireproofs.

they hug his body a little too nicely. the muscles in his chest, back, and arms are perfectly defined courtesy of the tight material. you can’t even think about his shoulder to waist ratio without feeling a little dizzy with desire.

“you’re drooling,” he teases as he stands back up, the both of you knowing damn well that he loves it when you stare at him.

“i can’t help it, you’re too hot.” you’ve never had a problem with telling him just how fine he is, especially because your praise always manages to make him blush and that just makes him impossibly more attractive.

“how am i supposed to let you leave this room?” you complain, wrapping your arms around his torso.

he buries his red face in your shoulder. “the sooner i leave, the sooner i come back and show you a good time.”

“i thought you were taking me out to dinner.”

“that’s what i was talking about,” his tone is dripping in faux innocence, and you know he’s messing with you when you feel him kiss your neck. “good to know where your priorities lie, though.”

you open your mouth to patronize him, but you’re cut off when he squeezes your hips, causing you to yelp. “you are impossible.”

“hmm, good thing you love me so much then.” you can hear his smile as he speaks, and you run your hands across his back, feeling every ridge of muscle through the material of the fireproofs.

your phone starts buzzing in your pocket— the alarm you’d set to remind yourself of when he needed to get in the car. “alright,” you reluctantly separate yourself from him, taking one last lingering look at his figure before he pulls the other half of his race suit on. “i’ll stay for an hour or two and meet you back at the hotel, okay?”

“what dress are you wearing tonight?” he asks as he holds the door open for you.

“the papaya one,” you smirk, and he groans, dragging a hand through his hair.

“you’re gonna kill me, baby.”

note: i wrote most of this at 2 am in a purely feral state and did the bare minimum in editing because i’m drowning in schoolwork so apologies if it’s a bit rough!! mclaren posted a 10 second video of lando and oscar walking around and that was all it took.

lowercase is intentional because i wrote entirely on mobile!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

beautiful dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @emmma232 @lieswithoutfairytales @valisjustvaleria @bwormie @meribfox @xfuckoffx @rai-scutum @clara760-blog @reptaysgf @harryismysworld @caz-93 @positiveaspirations @satanfinalgirl @ln4lova @crazymofo-96 @x-d1vine @anedpev

[pia-nor481]

The Assistant- Chapter One

Lando Norris x Reader

Zak is tired of Lando’s behaviour and hirers him a personal assistant, whom he finds a little too attractive to be working with. What she didn’t know, was how hard he would make the job.

2.4k words

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This wasn't exactly her dream job, sure she loved being around motorsports, but she would have loved to work with the team, not for one of the drivers. Originally she had applied online, not even sure she would get the job, but now as she was slipping her heels on reality had hit her. Zak Brown, CEO of Mclaren Formula One team had employed her to be an assistant; She assumed she would have been working for him as no other name was mentioned in either of her interviews, but she assumed very wrong. 

"So you'll be working with Lando. Making sure he's where he needs to be and has everything he needs. Pretty much doing whatever he asks." She struggled to keep up with Zak's fast pace with the folders in her hands as he guided her through the MTC. "Your desk is right here and Lando's is right over there." He pointed as he spoke, making sure she had everything she needed before she officially started. Zak walked into Lando's office with a face of disappointment, she didn't know the details and quite frankly didn't want to. With Zak gone she could finally take a breath, placing her belongings on the rather large desk. One small perk about working for Lando and not Mclaren was she could essentially wear whatever she pleased. She sat down and opened the provided laptop, checking what she could only imagine to be the busiest schedule she would ever see. After deciding she would deal with that a little later she looked around the room fully, noticing there was only four other desks in this area, the rest in offices with names printed on the doors. The desk given to her was the largest in the room, with very little on top of it; A phone, calculator, notebook, pens and a file organiser. She looked to the left and noticed next year's racing calendar. She made a mental note to bring some thing from home to brighten up the area, perhaps make it look more humane. 

"Are you serious Zak, another one?" She heard Lando's voice through the open door of his office. "Don't behave like a child. Oscar has an assistant who he gets on well with. But you need one. You're late to almost every meeting if you even turn up and you never have your equipment or uniform. It's unacceptable and so I'm doing something about it. Her pay isn't even coming out of your bank account so be grateful for that." Zak muttered, almost dragging Lando out of the room with a small scowl on his face. "This is Lando." Zak said with a small smile after introducing her. She offered her hand before speaking, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lando." He quickly shook her hand but didn't say anything, waiting for Zak to leave for his office. Now she could see why the pay was so high. He was slightly insufferable and considerably rude. 

Lando turned his back to her as he spoke, "Go get me a coffee would you." He grumbled walking back towards his office. She was shocked at the gumption to start with and then realised that she was being paid significantly more than what the base rate was for scheduling appointments. So really she just didn't feel the need to complain. She walked towards the unnecessarily large kitchen for that floor and looked through the cupboards, only finding instant coffee granules and shaking her head slightly. She knew first hand from working office jobs that instant coffee was one of the worst drinks in the world. She grabbed the largest mug from the shelf and placed two teaspoons of the coffee inside, followed by a pinch of salt as it would take the bitterness away. She poured a small amount of cold water into the mug before adding the hot water most of the way up, so she didn't burn the coffee. Finally she added some milk and gave it a good stir. Pleased with herself she walked back to his office as quick as she could. 

"Here." She almost whispered, placing the mug on his unusually tidy desk, which let her know he was almost never here or he never did any work. She had a sneaking suspicion it was the latter. "Took you long enough." Lando muttered looking up at her as he took a sip of the drink, a look of disgust painting his face. "That's awful. How do you mess up making coffee?" His question was rhetorical but it still hurt. She was sure it was the best one could make with such limited supplies. Or maybe he just didn't like coffee at all and was giving her a hard time. "You only have my work schedule, right?" He looked ack up at her, hands crossed in his lap. "Right?" Lando repeated, annoyance lacing his voice. She knew she shouldn't have been so easily upset, but disrespect being the first thing you hear from someone was always hurtful. "Yes." She whispered, not lifting her gaze from the ground, worried he'd see the look on her face. "Well, here's my personal schedule, sync it up for me." He said waving his hand towards the door. She took the paper from his hand with a small thank you and left to do as she was asked. Soon she was sat at the desk with glossy eyes questioning her decisions. Maybe applying for the job was a mistake, but she needed the money. 

He had a meeting about the new car at 6am tomorrow, a quadrant photoshoot at 10am for the new merch line but the manufacturer needed to be called tonight to ensure the clothes were ready to be mass produced for the release next month, then at 12pm they were filming a karting video that he needed to bring his helmet and quadrant racing suit for, at 4pm he need to pick up dry cleaning for a dinner he had at 7pm. She wasn't sure it was possible for one person to be so busy. She was quick to write down the necessary numbers and times on a post it notes before sticking all seven of them to the black wall above the desk. She wrote a small reminder to ensure Lando was wearing proper Mclaren uniform for the meeting, hoping it would ease Zak slightly. 

Her first call was to the manufacturing company and it lasted over two hours, most of it being arguing about shipping dates and production location. She needed to have the shortest delivery time possible considering the date for the release and it was causing her to panic. Lando didn't seem to have a lot of patience and he also seemed like the kind of man to yell if he wasn't happy with something, so she felt as though she couldn't afford to get this wrong. After another twenty minutes, and two pages of A4 paper later, the merch was set to be shipped to them one week before it was due to be sold. A small sigh escaped her as she took the first post it down. She then began working on 'merging' the two schedules, which she was sure he made it harder by giving her a paper copy, so she had to add things one by one. After a while, all of which was spent adding doctors appointments and training sessions to his calendar, she made way back to the kitchen reaching for another mug, making a coffee for herself just as she did before. She hesitated taking a sip, questioning herself. Was the drink actually that bad or maybe he was just testing her resolve. Quickly she snapped out of the small haze and rushed back to her desk, noticing Lando was no longer in his office.

Her eyes began to sting slightly as she continued to look at the screen, worried she wouldn't get all the work done in time. She made a small note to herself to pick up some eye drops before she went home, not wanting to repeat the feeling tomorrow. As she picked up her phone to set an alarm she noticed the time, 4am. She had been working for way too long, longer than she was required too. But the tasks set needed to be completed, she couldn't let herself fall behind, the money was too good to ever let that happen. While rushing to her car she began to question her actions completely. Why did she think this was even a good job? Running around after people was not her specialty. Yet she continued on. She was a person that liked to be relatively prepared and always kept spare clothes in the car, perhaps not for this occasion, but she was thankful to her past self none the less. She knew there were showers in the building as the drivers and pit crew often had to train in the building, so that wouldn't have been an issue. After making what could be considered a subpar coffee she called Lando on her personal phone, although it required two calls before he surprised her by answering. 

"Who is this?" He groaned down the line. She didn't expect his voice to be so low, then again she most definitely woke him up. "Your assistant, who needs you to wear your team uniform for the 6 am meeting today, which for your information, you need to leave for in about seven minutes." She said sweetly, knowing being yelled at as soon as you wake up isn't particularly pleasant, so the last thing she needed was him coming to work in a bad mood. "Yeah, okay. I'll be there." He said before ending the call. She shouldn't have felt her face warming as he spoke, hearing his morning voice shouldn't be turning her on as much as it was. His poor attitude had fizzled away in the late evening and the early morning, he was of course still mean for ending the call in such away, but his words were not as offensive. 

She expected him to come to work in what he pleased so she hurried to the store room to look for anything even in his size. The door was heavy and the room was dark but she managed to find a papaya shirt and a few pairs of trousers that looked close enough to fitting. She walked  back towards his office, with her signature office coffee in hand and placed everything on his desk, waiting for Lando to grace her with his presence. She retrieved her note book and pen off her desk before sitting in one of his chairs. "Some assistant she is. Telling me I need to be here, yet she's no where to be found." He grumbled, running his hands through his hair. As Lando walked through the threshold of the office he noticed her sat eagerly a small, but clearly fake, smile on her face. "You need to get dressed before we leave, the meeting starts in ten minutes and you have plenty to do today." She stated, brushing off his earlier statement, even if it brought a slight pain to her chest. Lando walked behind the desk and noticed, not just the hot drink awaiting him, but a few printed forms that he needed to sign, all with a small post it explaining in less than ten words what it was for. She walked towards the door and closed it, facing the opposite direction from the desk. "I need to ensure that you actually look presentable, but trust me I'm not looking." She said with a small huff, crossing her arms over her chest. "How do I know you're not actually some crazy fan?" He questioned, pulling his blue shirt over his head, quickly replacing it with the uniform. "My phone is on the desk and if I was some crazy fan I would probably already be in your house considering a I know you're address." She stated like it was the simplest thing in the world. "You can turn around now." Lando said, annoyance once again lacing his voice. "Oh, you're hair is a mess." She walked over to the brit quickly, reaching over to adjust the curls. "What are you doing?" His jaw clenched slightly as her fingers threaded through his hair. "Don't complain, I'm making sure you look presentable. Zak will be grateful considering there are some sponsors in this meeting." 

She pulled away from him and walked away, happy that he followed. "Don't do that again." His tone was almost malicious before they reached the board room, sitting down quietly. Zak quickly began thanking everyone for showing up before he started talking about how this years car would be better than the previous years. As she looked towards Lando, she noticed his head was down, most likely on his phone. A small amount of anger rose up through her. The gall. He works for this company, the words said would be greatly important to him, yet he wasn't even listening. It was disgraceful. She made sure to write down as many notes as possible, at least about what she assumed to be the most important parts since she didn't really know what was being said. The mechanics of formula one cars was not her speciality so it was a little hard to distinguish what was needed and what wasn't. 

"Thank you all for coming, any further questions please email." Zak said with a pleasant smile. She zoned out for a while, focusing on writing down the last few sentences. "Hey, are you even listening to me." Lando raised his voice slightly, shaking her shoulders. "You said I had to be somewhere at ten. So...get up." He almost pulled her out of the chair as she grabbed her things. "You have a photoshoot for the new Quadrant merch. The rest of the product is being delivered one week before sales go live." She almost muttered as he pushed her out of the door. 

"Well you're coming with me."

[formula-nyoom]

Grid Dads

Summary: The Grid Dads, their Grid Kids, and their first F1 win

Sequel to Grid Kids

A/N: So originally the plan was for this fic to be told in the perspectives of the Grid Dads, but then I mainly focused on the section of Logan winning his first race and this just ended up turning into the Grid Kids winning their first F1 races and their Grid Dads being there to support them. Tried to keep the reader gender neutral for this one, though I apologize if a “she” or “her” slipped in. Logan’s is the longest because it’s the first one I wrote and I wanted to avoid repetition so Oscar’s and (Y/N)’s sections are a bit shorter. If you want to read just (Y/N)'s section, it's the last one.

Oscar

Triple header race weekends were never easy. The constant back to back of race weekends where there never seemed to be a time to breathe always hit heavy on the drivers.

And yet in the middle of it, Oscar was driving like it was the best race weekend of his life. Topping all three Free Practice Sessions, Oscar felt like Austria was going to be the best race this season.

And then he gets pole in qualifying for the first time.

Now, getting pole should be another good thing to add to Oscar’s already phenomenal weekend. But as the race drew closer and closer, Oscar felt like expectations were getting higher and higher. Everyone is expecting him to win, and while that is always Oscar’s goal during races, the high expectations were not helping his nerves.

“Are you nervous?” Mark asked him as Oscar was getting ready in his driver’s room.

 “Yea���I’m starting on pole for the first time, why wouldn’t I be nervous?” Oscar said as he tied his shoes.

“I didn’t say you had to be. It’s ok to be nervous.” Mark said. “You’ve got a real shot at winning this race.”

 “Unless someone passes me. Which is inevitable.” Oscar said. Mark stood up and placed his hand on Oscar’s shoulder, getting the younger driver to look at him. 

“Then don’t let them pass you.” Mark said. Oscar scoffed.

 “Is that the only advice you have for me?”

“It’s the only advice you need.” Mark said, patting Oscar’s shoulder before leaving the driver’s room. Oscar watched him go with confusion. He did expect Mark to give him a bit more advice, but then again Mark was always confident in Oscar’s abilities when he was on track. 

Rolling into the P1 spot after the formation lap, Oscar took a breath and glanced to his right to see the scarlet Ferrari of Charles in P2. While McLaren have been able to keep pace with Ferrari throughout the season, it was unsure of who could be quickest on the start. Oscar didn’t need to be told that it had to be him, Oscar knew that. He also knew that if Charles passed him at the beginning, he had the potential of overtaking him later in the race as long as he kept pace.

“Don’t let them pass you.”

Oscar wasn’t going to let Charles get the upper hand. 

Lights out and Oscar’s foot was on the pedal at lighting speed. He was able to pull ahead of Charles, but the Monagas driver stayed close to Oscar all the way into the first turn.  Charles almost pulled ahead of him in turn 4 and 5, but Oscar was able to defend against him and when the first lap was finally over, Oscar managed to build a one second gap between him and Charles.  

Oscar stayed in first for about 20 laps but his tires were starting to wear down and Oscar knew that if he pitted now with only a 6 second gap between him and Charles, he would lose the lead. Oscar would either need to build up a big enough gap on his wearing tires for him to be able to pitstop without losing P1…or a red flag needed to happen so his tires could get changed with no consequence of a time loss. But a red flag seemed almost impossible. Oscar started discussing with his engineer the possibilities of even a yellow flag happening so the time loss wouldn’t be significant, when his engineer’s voice came over the radio with exactly what Oscar needed to hear.

“Red Flag! Red Flag!” His engineer said. “Come to the pits. There is a car turned over in the middle of the track.”

“Are they ok?” Oscar asked. While the red flag was exactly what Oscar needed to keep his P1, it wasn’t something Oscar was wishing or hoping for, as red flagged crashes are serious matters. All Oscar was grateful for was that he was able to pit and change tires without losing his position, and he hoped that whoever was involved with the crash was ok. 

But the race was going to have to be restarted. Which means it would give others the chance to pass Oscar going into the restart. 

 “You’re driving great out there.” Mark told him while everyone was waiting for the track to be cleared.

 “Yea, but now I have to do it all over again.” Oscar said.

“You know what to do.” Mark said, patting Oscar’s shoulder.

 ‘Don’t let them pass.’

Oscar could do that.

A sense of deja vu hit Oscar as he watched Charles pull into the P2 spot next to him. The Ferrari driver somehow was able to maintain his position like Oscar had, and Oscar was going to have to do everything to make sure Charles stayed in P2.

The lights went on again

And then they were off. And so was Oscar and Charles. 

Charles managed to get a bit of a jump on Oscar at the restart, with the two going side by side into turn one. But Charles ended up breaking late and Oscar was able to pull ahead, still in the lead.

Still in P1.

‘Don’t let them pass.’

And that’s what Oscar did. Everytime Charles tried to overtake, Oscar defended like his life depended on it while maintaining his speed. How he was able to stay calm and keep the Ferrari at bay, Oscar may not fully know. But Oscar was eventually able to see the checkered flag waving. And as he blocked Charles from overtaking him as they made it to the last corner, Oscar’s foot didn’t leave the pedal till he crossed that finish line.

“FROM POLE TO P1! OSCAR PIASTRI HAS WON THE AUSTRIAN GRAND PRIX!”

“You, Oscar Piastri, are a race winner! Congratulations!” Oscar’s race engineer said to him over the radio. 

 “Woooooo! What a race. That was a tough one, keeping pole the whole race. Wow.” Oscar said as he did his cool down lap and waved to the crowds as he passed by. 

He pulled into the P1 spot and took his time undoing his steering wheel before he stood up and climbed on to the nose of his car. The McLaren crew at the barriers cheered as Oscar raised his fist in the air. Oscar jumped down from the car and was met with the sight of Charles who raised his hand up for a high five.

“Another Leclerc 1-2! You fought me hard for that win.” Charles said, bringing Oscar in for a brief hug.

 “I was so worried about messing up. I couldn’t let you get by.” Oscar said. Charles laughed.

Oscar then turned his attention to the McLaren team at the barriers. Oscar ran over and jumped into their arms, receiving various pats and high fives. As Oscar pulled away, he saw Mark there, standing at the barriers with the McLaren team. Oscar went over and Mark pulled him in for a hug.

 “What did I tell you?” Mark said as he hugged Oscar.

“Don’t let them pass.”

 “And what did you do?”

 “I didn’t let them pass.” Oscar said as he smiled.

“It was good advice if I do say so myself.” Mark said. Oscar rolled his eyes.

 “I’ll make sure to come to you for more advice the next time I’m on pole.”

Logan

“Welcome back to Sky Sports. I’m Jenson Button, joined by one of my co-hosts Bernie Collins, and a welcome surprise: Nico Rosberg, who I usually don’t get to do this with.”

 “Yes, it's very rare that Jenson and I get to host together.” Nico said. “But since I’m commentating the race this Sunday, I thought I’d fill in for one of your other co-hosts and spice things up.”

 “I’m sure things will get spiced up this weekend as it is the United States Grand Prix!” Bernie said. 

“Now there’s been an interesting development in the standings from the last couple races.” Nico said.

“Yea. There’s still a championship fight between Redbull, Ferrari, and McLaren. But the bottom field has had a sudden shift with Williams seeming to be closer points wise to Aston Martin and RB than they are to Alpine and KickSauber.” Bernie said.

“It will be interesting to see what the teams…” Jenson’s sentence trailed off as his attention was drawn to what was going on behind him. 10 feet away and in view of the cameras, the young F1 drivers, Logan and (Y/N) were making funny faces or giving Jenson bunny ears. Jenson chuckled.

 “Well it seems we’ve got a couple of trouble makers standing behind us. Sargent and (L/N) are photo bombing us.” Jenson said. Logan and (Y/N) burst out laughing at the act of them being caught. Jenson smiled, seeing the two young drivers finding amusement. He waved them over and their expressions morphed into partial guilt.

 “Since the two of you are so keen to be on camera, do you two have any thoughts about the upcoming race? It’s a home race for you, Logan. Are you feeling confident?” Jenson asked, leaning his microphone towards Logan.

 “Yea I’m feeling confident. I got my first point in Formula One here last year, though it was due to the disqualification of other drivers. I’m hoping that I can earn points properly this time and doing so at a home race would make it even better.” Logan said. 

 “I think he actually has a chance of getting a podium this weekend but he doesn’t believe me.” (Y/N) said. Nico scoffed

 “You discount yourself too early, Logan.” Nico said. “Before we went on air, Jenson informed me of all the progress you’ve made throughout the season.”

 “Really?” Logan asked, looking at Jenson with a bit of disbelief.

“I told him nothing but the truth.” Jenson said. “You’ve been making steady progress throughout the season, You scored your first points this season in Silverstone, and have been matching Alex’s pace with both of you scoring points for Williams in the last couple races. You’ve really been growing as a driver.”

Logan smiled. Sure, the Williams team has told him stuff like this, but it coming from Jenson felt sincere and genuine.

 “Well, I’m glad to hear that you guys have confidence in me. I’m gonna try my best this weekend. Maybe keep my elbows out, sorry (Y/N).” Logan said. (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

 “Keep your elbows away from me, I’m gonna have to fight you for that podium.” (Y/N) said.

“Well we look forward to hopefully seeing that podium fight.” Bernie said. “We won’t keep you any longer. I’m sure your teams are waiting for you.”

 “Sorry for interrupting your very important business of photo bombing us.” Jenson said.

“It was Logan’s idea.” (Y/N) said before she and Logan waved goodbye to Jenson, Nico, and Bernie before heading off.

 “I’d like to see Logan on a podium. I think he could do it.” Jenson said.

“We’ve seen that when given the right car, he can really bring the points home. Everytime he gets an upgrade, his pace improves and luckily for him, Williams has brought the upgrades for this weekend.” Nico said.

 “Well, we’ll just have to wait and see when the cars get going on the track.” Bernie said.

~~~

Logan took a deep breath as he slotted his car into the P9 spot and waited for the lights to go out. To say he was nervous was an understatement. This had been his best weekend overall this season with Logan being in the top ten for all three practice sessions and making it to Q3. But Logan’s done this dance before and he expects the other shoe to drop at any moment to ruin his so far amazing weekend. 

 “Radio check, Logan.” The voice of Gaten, his race engineer, resonates through his ear and brings him back into focus.

“Do you think Nico or Jenson are going to conduct the post race interviews?” Logan asked.

 “Let’s get you on the podium to find out. I believe you can make it Logan.” Gaten told him. Logan didn’t smile but he felt his nerves lessen a bit knowing at least someone believed in him. 

*Blink* *Blink* *Blink* *Blink* *Blink*

Logan breathed.

“IT’S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO!”

He wasn’t quick enough on the pedal and fell down to 11th in the first corner. Logan went into defensive mode to try and keep that position but on lap 12, his team gave him a crucial call.

“Box Box.” 

“Sargent is the first to pit. Is there an issue with the car or is this Williams trying to strategize with their tires?” Crofty said from the commentary box.

 “Pitting now puts Logan at the back of the grid. Seems Williams may be favoring Albon in this race.”

“Actually, if Logan is putting on the hard tires then Williams must think that he can go to the end because pitting now would give Sargent a massive advantage for when the other teams pit.” Nico said.

“Well, we’ll just have to wait and see if this gamble will work in the American’s favor.”

The pitstop did put Logan into last place. There was no time to doubt or think about how many overtakes he needed to make to get back into point scoring position as Logan focused on going forward and keeping the car on track. 

He managed two overtakes before a collision happened.

“MAGNUSSEN AND ALBON MAKE CONTACT! BOTH OF THEM SPIN OUT AND INTO THE BARRIERS! ”

 “His tyres locked up and he just couldn’t keep it together. That’s gonna be a safety car for sure.”

“Here we can see William’s strategy of pitting Sargent first and putting him on the hard was a good move. We can see that most of the other drivers are heading into the pit under the safety car, and this shoots Logan up from P18 to P10.” Nico commentated

  “Safety Car. Magnussen and Alex made contact. Alex is out of the race. You are currently P10 with other drivers making pit stops now.” Gaten said over the radio.

“Is Alex ok?” Logan asked as he slowed his speed for the safety car.

“Alex is ok. We need to focus on the race. You are in the points now with some of the drivers in front having yet to pit and are on old tires.” Gaten told him. 

The drivers who had yet to pit, did move into the pitlane, moving Logan up to P6. After a couple more laps, the safety car was called in and the flags switched from yellow to green.

“Let’s do some overtaking.”

Logan didn’t need to be told twice as he started gaining on the car in front of him.

“Stroll .05 seconds in front. You have DRS. Go push.” Gaten told him.

“As we follow the Williams of Logan Sargent into Sector 2, he’s gaining on Lance Stroll. He goes for the outside AND OVERTAKES HIM AS SARGENT MOVES UP INTO P5!” Crofty exclaimed.

 “That was a clean overtake. Lance didn’t even have the time to fight him.” Nico said.

“Good job. Let’s do that again at least two more times.” Gaten told Logan.

 “Understood.” Logan knew that Gaten was intentionally not telling him what position he was in to not stress him out. But Logan could guess where he was in terms of current placement.

A couple laps later he was able to overtake Hamilton going into Turn 1, something Logan couldn’t help but smile at. He had just overtaken a 7 Time World Champion. That alone could have made Logan’s whole race. But now the question was, could he overtake another World Champion?

“Verstappen .08 seconds ahead. Push.”

Logan had never found himself in this position. The only time he saw Max’s rear wing was when he was letting him by to lap him. 

But now…now he had an attempt at a genuine overtake on the man everyone always says wins.

“Sargent’s behind Verstappen! He’s within DRS range! Is he going to overtake the championship leader? Sargent goes to the outside, Verstappen follows and as they get into turn six, is the Williams going to make it past?”

Logan tried to go from the outside to the inside of the turn but he wasn’t quick enough as he pulled behind Max again. But as both of them turned into Sector 2, Logan knew he would have another chance.

“They’re going down the straight! Sargent’s again within DRS range! Is he going to be successful this time? He dives to the outside!”

Logan’s foot felt like it was glued to the gas pedal as his car drove right next to the Red Bull. engaging the DRS, Logan used that extra boost as his car sped past Max.

“SARGENT OVERTAKES VERSTAPPEN! I DON’T BELIEVE IT!” Crofty exclaimed.

 “Logan really treated Max like he was just another car to overtake, but I’m sure that boy is celebrating at the fact he just overtook both Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton.” Nico said, a smile on his face.

“Excellent job Logan. You are currently P3 with (L/N) in front of you. The margin between you two is 1.5 seconds. Let’s close that gap.” Gaten said.

 “Copy. I did tell them I would keep my elbows out.” Logan said, a smile ghosting over his face for a brief moment.

“I’m glad to hear that Logan is enjoying this race. This really has been one of his best races.” Nico said.

“I couldn’t agree with you more, Nico.”

Logan was soon able to close the gap and got within DRS range of (Y/N). (Y/N) seemed more focused on making it past the corner, they didn’t see Logan until he was already past and speeding away. 

 “You’re doing amazing Logan. Piastri’s ahead with a 5 second gap. Let’s start trying to gain on him. 15 laps to go.” Gaten told him.

Though Logan didn’t need to wait long to try and catch up to Oscar. 

“There’s a yellow flag in Turn 12 and we can see that Ocon has hit the wall. He’s not in a good spot and that will surely bring out another safety car.” 

Logan had never been more thankful for a Safety Car as his and Oscar’s cars slowed down and Logan could see his best friend's rear wing clearly. He knew that a restart was imminent, this race wasn’t going to be finished under a safety car. 

Logan actually had a chance at winning this race.

“Safety Car is coming in this lap. You will have the chance to attempt an overtake on Piastri, with (L/N) behind you.”

“Copy.” Was all Logan said. He couldn’t tell if his hands were shaking from nerves or the vibrations from the car. This was the highest he had ever gone during a Formula One race. Throughout the season, Logan was starting to believe that a win for him wasn’t possible. Yet as he stared at the rear wing of the Mclaren in front of him, Logan could almost feel the glory of a first place finish in his hands.

“The Safety Car comes in as the cars on track make their way to the start line…” 

Oscar hits the gas.

Logan hits it faster.

Suddenly the Williams and the Mclaren are right next to each other–two best friends fighting for first place. Logan dives to the outside of Oscar’s car as they approach the turn…

“SARGENT OVERTAKES PIASTRI AND IS NOW IN THE LEAD!” Crofty exclaimed. A smile formed on Nico’s face as he watched the Williams car driven by Logan speed away from the Mclaren. The cheers from the crowd even reach the commentary box.

 “What a brilliant overtake from Sargent. He made sure to really hit the gas on the restart so that he could bring himself close enough to Piastri for that overtake.” Nico said.

“With ten laps to go, let’s see if he can keep that lead.”

Logan tries his hardest to keep it together and keep the car on track. Anything can happen in a Formula One race. Knowing his luck, Logan is constantly expecting his tires to lock up, or for him to lose control of the steering and spin out as the laps tick down. 

 “Last Lap. Bring it home Logan.”

But reality sets in.

He just needs to make it past the finish line.

“If you don’t mind Crofty, I'd like to do the victory narration.” Nico said, his eyes glued to the Williams car he had been following throughout the whole race. The whole reason his smile has stayed on his face.

“Go right ahead Nico.” Crofty said. Nico took a breath.

“As he starts his final lap, we see the Williams car of Logan Sargent speeding by. After his car was taken away in Australia, he has been trying to prove himself to the team, to everyone, who said he had no place in Formula One. And I can say for certain that throughout this race, Logan has proven himself. He has shown Williams and everyone that he has gotten what it takes to be in Formula One, as he comes around the last corner. He got one point at this track last year and now he’s going for the win. The young man from Florida, the first American in Formula One in 8 years, has fought his way from the bottom, all the way to the top as LOGAN SARGENT WINS THE UNITED STATES GRAND PRIX!”

Nico’s smile grows as wide as it can go, as he watches the blue number 2 car cross the finish line. He sees Logan wave his fist in the air, celebrating his victory and Nico can practically hear the scream that the American driver must be letting out right now. He puts his microphone down, not caring that there’s still commentary that he needs to do as he leaves the commentary box. Nico wants to be there for Logan and see him stand on the top step of the podium. 

“You did it mate! You won!” Gaten says over the radio. Logan can barely hear it over the sound of him screaming and the cheers from the audience.

 “YESSSSSSS! COME ON! OH MY GOD!” Logan yells. He can feel tears start to well up in his eyes but blinks them away as he makes his way to Parc Ferme so he can park his car in the #1 spot.

Getting there, Logan sat in the car for a moment, taking in the moment that he had just won his first Formula 1 race. He closes his eyes and breathes.

 “I did it.” He says to himself, before standing up.

He stands on the nose of his car, tucking his arms into him before spreading them out, like an eagle spreading his wings. He hadn’t been able to do this since F2. God did he miss this feeling. 

As soon as he steps down from the car, he’s getting tackled from both sides. Oscar to his right, and (Y/N) to his left. This winning feeling felt even better at the fact that he got to share the podium with his two best friends. 

 “Congrats mate! That was a hard earned win.” Oscar says, patting his back.

“I told you you’d get a podium.” (Y/N) says, putting both hands on the side of Logan’s helmet and shaking him a bit. Logan laughs before batting his friend’s arms away. 

He dives into the waiting arms of the William’s team, who hold him and pat his helmet like he just won the World Championship. In a way, Logan feels like he has. 

There’s a couple more pats and shakes before a steward is directing him to a spot for the post interview and Logan’s smile grows wider as he sees Jenson’s the one to do it. Jenson wraps Logan in a big hug, one hand cradling his head close to his own and Logan can’t help but let a tear roll down his face.

 “You were flying out their champ.” Jenson whispers into his ear before he has to pull away and Logan is handed a microphone. 

“Logan…take it all in. You’ve just won your first Formula One race. How are you feeling?”

 “It’s unreal, Jenson. That was a very nerve wracking race with the amount of overtakes I had to do. Throughout the week, I honestly didn’t expect that I would be winning this one.”

“I was on the edge of my seat the whole race. I felt like a proud dad watching you overtake both Hamilton and Verstappen.”

 “You did say that you had hoped to see me on the podium. Glad I could live up to your expectations.” Logan said.

 “You’ve done more than that, Logan. You’ve truly proven yourself as a Formula One driver. Soak it in, champ. You’re a Formula One race winner.” Jenson said. Logan can only nod and laugh as he takes it all in.

Yea, he’s a Formula One race winner. 

Jenson knows that he shouldn’t, considering they’re on live television, but he can’t help but pull Logan in for one more hug before the next interview starts. Logan seems to hold on for a bit longer and Jenson would have given him all the time in the world to stay in this hug. But they have to pull away as Logan heads to the cool down room and Oscar takes Logan’s place to be interviewed.

Logan can still feel the adrenaline and he doesn’t think it’s going to calm down anytime soon. He jumps as someone’s hands land on his shoulders and Alex is suddenly behind him, shaking his shoulders before coming around to the front and giving him a big hug.

 “You just needed to prove yourself and you did! That’s my teammate!” Alex said. Logan laughs. As soon as Alex breaks the hug and steps away, George is right in front of him, pulling him into his own hug before lifting him up into the air. Logan can’t help but hold on tighter as his feet leave the ground.

 “I knew you could do it, Logs.” He says. Logan lets out a laugh as he’s placed back down on the ground. 

 “Thanks guys. I truly don’t know how I made it to the end.” Logan said.

“Rubbish. You made it to the end because you are a phenomenal driver.” George said, pointing a finger at Logan before patting his shoulder.

Before he walks out to the podium, someone hands him an American flag that he drapes across his shoulders. When he first joined Formula One, to Logan the American flag felt heavy, like he was carrying the country on his shoulders.

Now, Logan felt like he was flying.

“In 1st Place…Williams Driver: Logan Sargent!”

He takes his place on the top step of the podium and looks out into the crowd. Amongst the sea of Blue, White, and Orange, Logan’s eyes land on Jenson with Nico standing right next to him. They’re smiling at him with nothing but proudness in their eyes at the fact that their grid kid won his first race. 

And to Logan, their smiles are the only ones that matter.

(Y/N)

It was the weekend of the Belgium Grand Prix and instead of being in the team garage, (Y/N) was standing at the VIP entrance, watching everyone that entered. Were there countless rumors going around that Sebastian Vettel would attend this race? Yes. Were they confirmed? Not really. Did (Y/N) believe them? If it meant the young driver could see their grid dad, then yes. That was the whole reason (Y/N) was at the VIP entrance, looking for any sight of the German World Champion. But it was getting too close to Free Practice for (Y/N) to stay, and thinking the rumors were false, (Y/N) turned around to head to their team’s garage.

 “Off to go racing, honey bee?”

(Y/N) turned back around so quickly, they almost got whiplash. Standing there was Sebastian with a VIP badge around his neck. 

 “Seb!” (Y/N) exclaimed as they ran to the retired German driver and engulfed him in a hug. Seb chuckled as he returned the hug. 

 “I was starting to think that you weren’t coming.” (Y/N) said as they broke away from the hug.

“And miss you racing? That’s ridiculous.” Seb said. Someone next to Seb cleared their throat and (Y/N)’s eyes widened.

 “Kimi!” (Y/N) immediately wrapped the Finnish driver in a hug, like they did with Seb. Kimi stumbled a bit but did return the hug.

To others, having two former world champions at a Formula One race is a welcoming sight with not much meaning. But to (Y/N), having their former mentor and grid dad here to watch them race meant the whole world.

“You came…” (Y/N) said to the two, voice wavering a bit still in disbelief.

 “You called.” Kimi said. (Y/N) smiled.

“Why don’t you show us around the paddock. I’m sure it’s changed since we’ve last been here.” Seb said. (Y/N)’s face lit up as they eagerly grabbed both Seb and Kimi’s hand to start showing them around the paddock

~~~

Seb enjoyed being back at a Formula One race. Being surrounded by the same chaos he once knew gave him a sort of comforting feeling that stayed all the way to race day. And while Kimi wanted to stay in the VIP room to avoid all the crowds and cameras, Seb was down on the grid with all the other celebrities and reporters, walking along the starting grid before the race officially started. He was only able to speak with (Y/N) briefly before their engineer pulled them into a last minute strategy talk. So Seb walked the grid, saying hello to other drivers and previous colleagues as he walked past.

“Look it’s It's former World Champion, Sebastian Vettel.” Sky Sports Reporter Martin Brundle approached Seb during his pre-race grid walk. “How are you Sebastian?”

 “I'm doing great Martin. How are you?” Seb asked.

“I’m doing well. It’s good to see you back at a race.” Martin said. “Are you rooting for any team in particular?”

“I'm here to support my grid kid.” Seb said with a smile.

 “I’m sure the Ferrari garage is happy to have you back.” Martin said. Seb let out a chuckle and shook his head.

 “I’m here to support my other grid kid, (Y/N).”

“Do you think they’ll do well today?” Martin asked. Seb smiled.

 “I don’t doubt it. No matter what happens I’ll be rooting for them all the way.” Seb said.

After the national anthem was played, Seb was able to pull (Y/N) aside for a brief moment.

“Good luck. Be safe. Kimi and I will be watching from the VIP room.” Seb said before (Y/N) had to get in the car. He clipped the straps of their helmet, “Remember: Fight like a bull.” 

 “And sting like a bee!” (Y/N) said with a smile Seb could see peak out from the visor. 

“That’s right!” The two high fived and Seb ruffled (Y/N)’s helmet as if ruffling the driver’s hair, before leaving to join Kimi in the VIP room. 

Watching the race seemed more stressful to Seb than if he was the one driving it. He tenses anytime (Y/N) gets close to making contact with other cars or anytime they experience oversteering. But he cheers alongside Kimi after every successful overtake.

 “(L/N) goes to the outside of Alonso into turn six! Are they going to make it past the Aston Martin? Going into the straight, (L/N)’s within DRS, they pull ahead and (L/N) speeds past as the younger generation leaves the older one in the dust!” Crofty narrates and Seb and Kimi cheer. 

 “(Y/N)’s got the pace to make it to first.” Seb said. Kimi only nodded as two mens’ eyes stayed glued to the screen. And Seb was right. Soon enough (Y/N)’s car was in P2 with only a 1 second gap between her and Carlos, who was P1. Seb and Kimi watched as the gap got smaller and smaller till (Y/N) was right behind the Ferrari. 

 “Come on (Y/N)...” Kimi mumbled. The sound in the VIP room seemed to deafen as (Y/N) attempted an overtake on Carlos. The two cars go into the turn right next to each other, wheels centimeters from touching. 

(Y/N) pulls out of the turn ahead of Carlos and speeds off to take the lead.

“(Y/N) (L/N) is the new race leader!” Seb and Kimi erupted into applause as their grid kid took the P1 spot. But that didn’t make the stress go away, as there were still a couple more laps to go. 

 “Come on honey bee, bring it home.” Seb said, rubbing his hands in anticipation. And that’s what (Y/N) did. The gap they had built was enough that no car could catch up to them in the final lap. And as they crossed the finish line, Seb and Kimi cheered and applauded so loud, they were sure (Y/N) would be able to hear it from the track.

“(Y/N) (L/N) WINS THE BELGIUM GRAND PRIX!”

“P1! You are P1, (Y/N)! Congratulations.” (Y/N)’s race engineer said in their ear as (Y/N) almost burst into tears.

 “YEEEEESSSSS! LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO!” They yelled. They waved to the fans in the grandstands as they slowly did their cool down lap while trying to wipe tears from their eyes.

 They eventually pulled their car into parc ferme and parked their car in front of the #1 board. Getting out of the car, (Y/N) beat their chest twice in celebration as they stood on the nose of the car before jumping down and running to their team, who gave congratulatory pats on the head and shoulders. 

After the post race interview, (Y/N) started to make her way to the cool down room, passing other drivers along the way who gave their own congratulations to the driver.

“Congratulations, niño/a.” Fernando said as he pulled (Y/N) into a side hug. “I almost had you on that overtake.”

 “Sorry that I had to pass you to be able to win.”

“Don’t apologize. Though if you keep winning, I may have to retire.” Fernando said. (Y/N) laughed and shook their head.

 “Everyone knows that you’re going to be racing well into 2046 ‘Nando’.” (Y/N) said. Fernando chuckled and patted their shoulder one more time before leaving to meet with his team. 

The race winning high was something (Y/N) didn’t want to come down from. As they kept making their way to the cool down room, (Y/N)’s smile continued to grow as their win felt more and more real.

And then there’s Seb and Kimi, waiting for them at the end. (Y/N) didn’t waste any time as they threw themselves into Seb’s arms and gave him a big hug.

“Congratulations, honeybee.” Seb whispered into their ear. “You’re a Formula One race winner.”

 “I feel like I’m dreaming.” (Y/N) said as they pulled away from Seb and turned to Kimi. 

Kimi didn’t say anything as he patted (Y/N)’s shoulder and pulled her into a side hug. That was ok. (Y/N) didn’t need him to say anything as she turned the side hug into a full one. 

 “Does this prove that you have to come to more than one race every season? I’m always close to winning when you’re here, Seb.” (Y/N) said.

“Actually, I think this proves that Kimi has to come to your races more often, as you always win when Kimi’s here.” Seb said, patting his friend on the shoulder. Kimi only smiled.

[vivwritesfics]

Oscar with innocent reader? They've been dating for almost a year but she's still a little shy about going further as she's still a virgin. But one day as Oscar didn't do well in a race she decides she wants to make him feel better and finally lets him take control over her body as she's been wanting this as much as he did.

Rough Day At The Office

Warnings: smut! Eating out! Virginity taking!

18+ ONLY

Oscar lifted up her shirt, pulling off and kissing the skin along her collarbone.

She'd never gone this far before. They'd been dating for a year and this was the first time they'd done anything like this.

Y/N had spent months telling herself that they were young, that this was normal. She'd been teased endlessly at college and university, but soon Y/N had realised that their teasing didn't matter, it was about what she was comfortable with.

And then she met Oscar. Oscar, who she was pretty sure she was in love with after the third date. Oscar, who she was sure she could take things further with, if she gave it time.

After a year, the time felt right. Oscar was frustrated. He'd had a tough race and he hadn't gotten laid in a really long time (he didn't mind that, whatever made his love comfortable, but a guy could get pent up, you know?)

And Y/N could tell. And she was ready, she'd never felt more ready.

That was how she got to Oscar kissing down her stomach. Her hands gripped his hair as he kissed lower and lower, pushing up her skirts. He kissed her over her underwear and pushed it to the side.

"Oscar," she moaned softly as he touched her, felt her for the first time. He kissed her folds gently and pushed his tongue through, always being gentle with her.

Everything he did had Y/Ns grip on him growing tighter. "Oh my god," she cried when Oscar sucked on her clit.

Oscar was a very gifted man with a very gifted tongue. He ate out with vigor and passion. She'd never felt anything quite this spectalical before.

Her moans were music to his ears, literally. If he died now, he would have died happily, to the sounds of her moans, whines and cries. "I've been so excited for this," he mumbled against her thigh as he took a moment to breathe.

"Me too, Osc," she said between small breaths as she gently tugged on his hair, pulling him up towards her.

She kissed him, giggling when she tasted herself on his tongue. "We, Oscar," she said through a giggle as she yanked off his shirt.

They made fast work of stripping each others clothes off. Oscar sat in front of her, hard and proud. He watched as she reached out, touching his tip. There wasn't a lot she did, but it was enough for her first time. They could do more later.

"Ready?" Asked Oscar as he lined himself up.

Y/N nodded, her breath hitching. Slowly, Oscar pushed forward. He guided himself, moving slowly, listening to her body. When Y/N let out an 'ah' Oscar stopped, giving her a moment to adjust.

"'M gonna move," he said before he pushed in just a little further.

There was a lot of waiting and going slow. Oscar couldn't go ahead and ravage her just yet, she wasn't ready for that.

When he could begin thrusting, Oscar was still going slow. He checked in every minute, making sure she was still okay.

Slowly, Oscar began gaining speed. He squeezed his eyes shut as he thrust, Y/N's head thrown back.

She wrapped her legs around him, arms around his thick neck. "Holy shit, Oscar," she screamed as she leaned forward, biting into his shoulder.

Oscars pace became bruising, and Y/N realised she loved it. She loved it when he was being rough with her, manhandling her body like it was his.

Y/N truly loved this man. She couldn't think of anybody better to take her virginity but him

[misspygmypie]

Best Uncle Competition

Part of the "Meet & Greet... and more?" Universe Pairing: Lando Norris x Noah (plus Oscar, Carlos and the two Max's) Words: 1434 Request: Yes by the lovely @littlegrapejuice : I'd love a one shot where lando takes noah karting with other drivers (of your choice) and they all compete to be the best uncle (like letting him win or bribing him with merch). But in the end, noah just cares about his dad lando being the best and the other drivers are just disappointed that no matter how much they show off, they don't/can't compare. Just smth fluffy to show lando and noah's bond bc i just love them sm 🫶 Masterlist

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

The karting track was buzzing with excitement. Lando was thrilled to spend the day with his seven-year-old son, Noah, and had planned a special outing. To make it even more memorable he had invited some of his closest friends: Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz, Max Fewtrell and Max Verstappen. Little did Noah and Lando know, this wasn't just a friendly karting session - it was a competition to win the title of “Best Uncle”.

Noah’s eyes lit up at the sight of all his favorite drivers, each in their racing gear and ready for action. He bounced with excitement when he saw his dad and the racing stars.

“Dad, this is amazing,” Noah exclaimed, his eyes wide with joy.

“I’m glad you’re excited, buddy,” Lando said, grinning. “Let’s see how everyone does today.”

While they were getting ready Noah’s attention was almost entirely fixed on his dad. To the seven-year-old Lando wasn’t just another racer in the line-up - he was a superhero, an idol and his personal racing champion all rolled into one.

From the moment they arrived Noah’s eyes sparkled every time he looked at Lando. He tried to hide his excitement by pretending to be cool but his wide grin betrayed his bubbling enthusiasm. When Lando adjusted his kart Noah mimicked him with exaggerated seriousness, pretending to check imaginary tire pressure, just like his dad.

Oscar, known for his laid-back demeanor, was the first to make his move. He handed Noah a small bag of McLaren merchandise - a shirt, stickers and an orange cap with the team’s logo. “Hey, Noah, how about you wear this today? It’ll make you look like a real racer,” Oscar said with a smile, his own cap slightly askew.

Noah was thrilled and put on the cap immediately. “Wow, thanks, Oscar,” he said, adjusting the cap with a serious look, as if preparing for a big race. He wore it with an added sense of pride, as if it somehow made him part of the racing team Lando was part of.

Carlos, always competitive but with a warm heart, decided to take a different approach. He gifted him a brand new remote controlled race car. “Here you go, champ. This is the newest model out there. I saw it in the store and immediately had to get it for you.”

Noah beamed, feeling happy with his new toy. “Thanks, Carlos!” he said, admiring the car and already got excited about testing it out later at home. When Carlos showed off his own karting skills, Noah watched but his attention often drifted away from the other drivers to watch Lando, who was adjusting his kart and chatting with the other drivers.

Max Fewtrell, the strategist, took a calculated approach. He decided to let Noah win a few races to boost his confidence. During the first race, Max took a leisurely pace, letting Noah zoom ahead while giving him enthusiastic cheers. “Just remember to keep your eyes on the track and not on me. You’ve got this,” Max cheered, pretending to struggle with his kart’s steering.

The boy, thrilled by his apparent racing powers, waved back at Max as he zipped past. However, his gaze frequently flicked towards his dad, who was cheering the loudest from the sidelines, making Noah feel like a true star.

Max Verstappen, known for his fiery competitive spirit, had a similar but different strategy. He challenged Noah to a friendly race but rather than showcasing his superior skills he took it easy. Max’s plan was to make it look like Noah had a real chance at beating him, making Noah’s victories feel genuine.

“Ready to race, champ?” Max asked with a mischievous grin. He then pretended to have trouble with his kart, driving so slowly that even a snail might have beaten him.

Noah, realizing he had the chance to beat him, shot across the finish line with a triumphant cheer. “I beat Max Verstappen!” he exclaimed, practically glowing with pride. Throughout the race his eyes kept darting towards his dad, whose proud expression seemed to be the ultimate reward for Noah.

As the day progressed, each driver tried to outdo the other in their quest for the Best Uncle title. Oscar gave Noah some candy and chocolate he had brought, Max Fewtrell brought out a bag of energy drinks (non-caffeinated, of course) and Carlos shared some top-secret racing tricks.

The drivers were so engrossed in their mission to win Noah’s favor that they started devising ever more elaborate schemes. Oscar organized a surprise mini-trophy ceremony where Noah was awarded a medal for “Most Improved Racer.” Carlos attempted to perform a dramatic, slow-motion race finish complete with exaggerated victory poses trying to make the boy laugh while Max Verstappen started a playful trash-talking session, jokingly challenging Noah to a rematch in the next race.

Despite all their efforts Noah remained blissfully unaware of the competition happening among the drivers. He was having the time of his life and each driver’s attempts to impress him were met with genuine excitement and delight. However, Noah’s focus was always on his dad. Every time Lando spoke Noah’s eyes lit up, his attention shifting entirely to him, even as the other drivers attempted to engage him in conversations or give him more cool stuff.

At the end of the day the drivers gathered around Noah for a final group photo, each one trying to position themselves close to Noah, hoping to be remembered as the “Best Uncle”.

Lando, ever the proud father, stood beside his son with a beaming smile.

“Alright, everyone,” Lando announced, “let’s get a great shot to wrap up the day!”

Noah, now comfortably surrounded by his racing heroes, looked up with wide eyes, completely engrossed in the moment. The drivers lined up, each trying to position themselves strategically to be as close to Noah as possible. Oscar casually draped an arm around Noah’s shoulders, while Carlos tried to subtly nudge closer, his arm around Noah’s waist.

Max Fewtrell carefully maneuvered himself to ensure he was directly behind Noah, hoping to be prominently visible in the photo. Meanwhile, Max Verstappen, with his competitive edge, found himself in a playful tug-of-war with Oscar over who would stand on Noah’s left side.

As they all posed, Max Verstappen couldn’t resist one last playful gesture. He gave Noah a thumbs-up while leaning in close, trying to make the gesture look as enthusiastic as possible. “Give us your biggest smile, champ,” he said, adding a wink for good measure.

Noah, however, seemed largely unfazed by the antics. His gaze was firmly fixed on his dad who was standing proudly beside him. The little boy’s attention was entirely devoted to Lando, his dad’s beaming smile and affectionate presence overshadowing all the playful efforts of the drivers.

The karting track employee, who had the job of taking the photo, prompted everyone to “Say cheese!”. The moment the photo was taken Noah’s smile was the brightest it had been all day but his focus remained on Lando who had wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders. The picture captured a perfect moment: Noah in his tiny racing gear, surrounded by some of the best drivers in the world, yet his eyes were solely on his father.

After the photo was taken Max Fewtrell was the one who crouched down to Noah, asking the question everyone was so eager to get the answer to.

“Well, Noah,” Max said, playfully nudging the cap on the boy’s head, “do you have a favorite uncle? Who is the best?”

Noah thought for a moment, looking around at the smiling faces of his racing heroes. He then turned to his dad with a wide smile and said, “Dad, you’re the best!”

The drivers laughed, though there was a hint of good-natured disappointment. Despite their best efforts and playful strategies it was clear that no matter how much fun they had or how many tricks they pulled, Noah’s heart belonged to his dad. They had aimed to win the title of “Best Uncle”, but in the end it all was overshadowed by Lando’s presence and Noah’s love for his dad that made the boy the happiest.

As they packed up both Max’s, Oscar and Carlos exchanged friendly banter about who might get another chance to be the “Best Uncle”. The karting day had been a fun adventure but the true victory lay in the joy and love shared between a father and his son. The group photo, with Noah’s adoring gaze fixed on his dad, would forever be a treasured memory of a day full of fun and laughter - and banter.

________

AN: This was such a cute request!! I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶

Taglist: @eloriis @pacifierbby @landossainz @littlegrapejuice @barcelonaloverf1life @poppyflower-22 @itsjustfranzi @vickykazuya

[willowsnook]

Please Don't Leave (LH44)

lewis hamilton x driver!reader

please don't leave

Mini Max

That's what they called you on the grid, even though you were only two years younger than him. Your aggressive driving style was modeled after his, and you'd looked up to him since you first joined F1. Unfortunately, your approach didn’t mesh well with that of your current teammate at Mercedes: Lewis Hamilton.

Lewis, with his clean and technical style, had built his career on precision, earning seven world championships along the way. But when you joined F1 three years ago, pushing boundaries from the start, it was clear he didn’t approve.

-------------------------------------------

After Your First Race

“Lewis, what did you think about Y/N’s driving today? Pretty aggressive but paid off with a podium,” a reporter asked, and Lewis shook his head thoughtfully.

“I think she has a lot to learn,” he replied. “That kind of driving can get dangerous quickly. Sure, it paid off today, but I don’t believe it’s worth the risk.”

You heard his response through one of your engineers. While the mature thing would have been to stay quiet, you weren’t that PR-trained yet.

“Y/N, any response to your teammate’s comments about your race this weekend?” a reporter asked.

“I think I represent what’s to come in F1. You can adapt or you can retire,” you replied, leaving without taking any more questions.

---------------------------------------------

Any chance of a friendship between you two was over after that. Lewis remained civil at team events, but it was clear he didn’t like you, and you didn’t lose sleep over it. Team briefings were a battle of wills, with him challenging your methods and you defending yourself. Your styles, personalities, and outlooks couldn’t have been more different. Even media days were painfully awkward. When asked about you, Lewis would shrug off the question, and you’d pretend not to notice.

“So, Lewis, what are some of Y/N’s hobbies?” a reporter asked during one particularly rough media day. He scratched his chin, glancing over at you.

“Uh, I’m not sure. We don’t see each other much off the track,” he finally said, and you winced as the reporter fumbled to move on.

Later, Max found you, an amused smirk on his face.

“Lovely display between you and Lewis this morning,” he teased.

“Only half a season left,” you muttered. He laughed, matching your pace as you walked the track together.

“Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if we’d started off on the right foot,” you admitted, glancing over at him.

Max shook his head. “It wouldn’t have happened. Your styles are too opposite, and with two giant personalities, it’s impossible.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I could’ve handled it better, though.”

“Don’t feel guilty. He didn’t do anything wrong either. He just wanted someone to mentor, and you came in ready to fight.”

“You’re too good to me,” you laughed, nudging his shoulder.

“Of course, you’re my mini-me,” he said, and you both laughed.

By Singapore, the WDC was tight between you, Oscar, and Charles, all within a 50-point margin of one another. You were starting P6 today, having to take a grid penalty for a new upgrade the team had brought, but you weren’t worried. The lights went out, and you made your moves quickly, shooting up to P4 in the first lap. Everything was feeling comfortable; Lando wasn’t far in front of you, and Liam wasn’t close enough behind to make you worry. 

Just a heads up y/n, checo just passed lawson and is coming up, your engineer said to you over the radio and you noted it in your head. A few laps later he was close behind and you started to defend, not having the pace to focus on catching Lando. This was one of your best showings of defense and turn after turn you fended him off. You prepared for the next attack but he lost control, clipping your rear tire and causing you to spin out, You hit him on a spin and his car flipped over yours and over the barrier, landing upside down. Slamming into the barrier he missed, you groaned at the impact. 

Are you ok?

“I’m ok, is checo?” You asked, pulling off your steering wheel. 

No response from him yet

Your pulse quickened, looking over at the RedBull that was smashed to pieces. Pulling yourself out of the car you stumbled to the barriers climbing over, Stewards were swarming the car and held you back when you tried to get closer. You could already hear the sound of an ambulance coming and you were starting to panic. 

“Checo!,” you yelled out over and over hoping he could hear you. Someone was struggling to hold you back but you stilled as you watched the paramedics pull his unresponsive body from the car. 

Everything from that point on felt like a nightmare that wasn’t real. Your brain shut off and somehow you were back in the garage being looked over by Toto. He was saying something but you couldn’t hear him; all you could hear were the sirens and your own voice screaming out. What if he was dead? This was all your fault. He had the pace, he should have passed you but you kept fighting. You replayed the scene over and over in your head. 

Reality came crashing down on you as your eyes met dark brown ones that were filled with worry. 

“Y/n, y/n, come back to us,” Lewis was saying softly and you collapsed into him. He had one arm supporting you and another out to stop others who had started to rush towards you. Sobs racked through your body and you heard someone yell for the room to clear out. Lewis was rubbing your back gently and you were holding on to him tightly.

Eventually he leaned down and swept you off your feet, carrying you into your drivers room. He set you down on the bed in there before going to get you a water bottle to force you to drink. Your sobs had turned to hiccups and you stared at the wall as Lewis checked his phone. 

“He’s okay y/n,” he told you. “Just a concussion and a broken arm but he’s okay.” 

You nodded, letting more tears fall down your face and he wrapped his arms around you again. 

“Let me take you back to the hotel,” he murmured and you nodded, standing up to change into something more comfy. He waited for you by the door and you left with him silently, ignoring the looks of pity you were being given on the way out. 

He walked you all the way up to your room, hesitating as you swiped the key card. 

“Will you text me if you need something?” He asked concerned and you honeslty hadn’t even considered the possiblity of being alone. 

Eyes watering you responded, “please don’t leave me.” 

He nodded and followed you into the room. He started the shower for you, insisting that it would make you feel better and you stood in there for a long time just staring into the void. Finally stepping out you slipped an oversized shirt over your head and walked out into the room where Lewis was laid back on the bed, watching tv. He had changed into just a pair of sweats with a tight fitting shirt. You watched him for a little bit, him not noticing yet. Finally walking over, you felt Lewis’ eyes on you, lingering as he saw your shirt ride up your thigh. 

“Are you okay?” He asked and you looked over at him, hovering by the bed. 

“I just can’t stop thinking about it,” you replied sighing.

“Maybe you just need a distraction,” he said, eyes darkening. Your breath quickened as you debated internally what to do next; you did need a distraction and why not find it in the teammate you weren’t even going to have next year. 

Climbing onto the bed, you closed the gap between you, moving on his lap. You brought your lips to his in a slow kiss and he shifted you off of him and onto the bed, hovering above you. 

“Let me take care of you,” he murmured, kissing down your neck. His hands found the bottom of your shirt and he lifted it up, eyes widening at the sight of nothing being underneath it. “Jesus.”

“Please Lewis,” you moaned out, urging his touch to go lower. Obeying your command he moved down to your core, his tongue darting out making you groan. He assaulted your pussy eventually entering a finger into you as you were squirming underneath his touch. Your orgasm washed over you and he pulled his fingers out and moved back up to you rmouth, stopping when seeing your teary eyes. 

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked gingerly. “I didn’t want our first time to be like this.”

Your eyes widened at his statement but you were too focused on feeling him to dwell on it. 

“I need to forget,” you begged him and he gave in, crashing his lips back down to you. He pumped himself a few times before entering you and you gasped against his lips. This wasn’t the bruising, fast paced thing that you had secretly imagined once or twice before. This was something slow, almost gentle. He was fucking you like he was scared he would break you but for some reason you weren’t complaining. 

Lewis kept his lips on you, swallowing your whimpers as he picked up the pace and brought a finger down to rub your clit. You gasped as he made contact, feeling another orgasm approaching. 

“Doing so good for me sweetheart,” he rasped into your ear and you wrapped your legs around his waist. His words sent you over the edge, and you cried out, clenching around him.

His lips moved down to your neck and he sucked on your skin as you recovered, never stopping his movement. The sensitivity caused you cry out but he covered your mouth with his palm as he started to move faster.

Chasing his orgasm, he started pounding into you, groaning into your neck. Your nails found his back and you were digging in hard enough to draw blood, just trying to stay in it.

"I'm going to cum," he growled, relentlessly driving into you. Arching your back off the bed he hit a new angle that sent both of you into a climax.

Whimpering as he slid out, you pushed off the bed and headed into the bathroom; Lewis was hot on your tail. 

“Hey hey hey,” he said pulling your arm and forcing you into his chest. Sniffling you looked up at him and he brushed a tear that had fallen from your eyes. 

“I’m sorry, “ you mumbled into his chest. “I normally don’t cry after sex I promise.” 

Lewis gave you a soft smile, and you suddenly felt embarrassed about what had happened. Flustered you stepped away, turning on the shower to clean up. Lewis stepped in behind you and you stayed facing the wall.

"Y/n," he drawled. "Talk to me please."

"I just don't know what to think," you said turning around to look at him. "I almost watched someone die today and then you, the teammate that i'm constantly fighting on and off the track, were the only person I found comfort in and then we had sex."

You let out an exasperated sigh, having finished your rambling.

"And!" You exclaimed, and Lewis' eyes widened. "What the fuck did you mean by 'I didn't want our first time to be like this'?"

"Yeah," he said sheepishly. "I may have fantasized about it once or twice."

"You are insane," you said dumbfounded.

"Oh come on," he said lightly. "Every time we'd get into it, I'd think about it later when I got home and how nice it would be to fuck you into submission eventually."

His confession caught you off guard and your jaw dropped.

"Didn't really seem that way based on your performance in there," you shot back and he scoffed.

"You were literally crying as I was fucking you," he exclaimed. "What did you want me to do?"

Grabbing the back of his neck you pulled his face closer to yours, "I wanted you to make me forget."

You crashed your lips against his and his arms circled around your waist.

"Be careful what you wish for," he said, pulling you out of the shower for round two.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

A race for love p.12

Hii guyss, I've been MIA these past few days but I'm back so I hope you enjoy this part. If you've missed part 11 or the other parts you can find them on my masterlist :)

Formula 1 is all about speed, but in this story, the real race isn't just on the track. Read on to find out who will win the ultimate race-for your heart.

- Spa 2023 -

You wake up to the warmth of Franco's arm draped around you, the soft rise and fall of his chest steady and comforting. For a moment, you just stay there, enjoying the peaceful quiet, his body snug against yours. His grip tightens slightly as he stirs, his lips brushing the top of your head.

"Good morning," he mumbles sleepily, pulling you closer into his embrace.

"Morning," you reply, your voice soft as you nuzzle into him. The morning light peeks through the curtains, but you feel like you could stay here forever, wrapped up in this cocoon of warmth and affection.

Franco shifts slightly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I could get used to waking up like this," he says, his voice playful but sincere.

You smile up at him. "Me too, but I should probably get going before my dad wonders where I've been."

Franco groans softly, tightening his hold on you. "Just a little longer?" he pleads, his lips finding yours in a slow, lingering kiss.

You laugh against his lips, feeling a rush of warmth in your chest. "I wish I could," you say between kisses, "but I have to get ready. I'll find you later in the paddock, okay?"

Franco sighs dramatically but finally lets go, watching you with a playful pout. "Fine, but only because you promised you'll come find me later."

You kiss him one last time, savouring the softness of his lips before you pull away. "I'll see you soon," you whisper, giving him a quick wink as you grab your things and head for the door.

When you arrive at the F1 paddock, the energy is buzzing with anticipation for the day's practices. As you step into the McLaren garage, you're greeted by Lando and Oscar, both of whom are lounging around while they wait for their turn on track.

"Look who decided to show up!" Lando jokes, waving you over. "Busy night?" He wiggles his eyebrows teasingly, making Oscar chuckle.

You roll your eyes, but you can't help the smile that forms on your lips. "Please, you know I'm here to keep an eye on you two," you shoot back, plopping down next to them. "Someone's gotta make sure you don't get into trouble."

Oscar smirks. "Yeah, because we're the ones who cause all the trouble around here."

The three of you spend the next hour laughing, making jokes, and trading playful banter. The lightheartedness of it all helps ease the nervous excitement bubbling in your chest. It feels good to be back in the paddock, surrounded by friends.

As the time for F1 practice nears, Lando and Oscar start gearing up, and you take the opportunity to slip away. You send a quick text to Franco, letting him know you're on your way to the F3 paddock.

When you finally arrive, you spot Franco from a distance, pacing back and forth, his phone pressed tightly to his ear. His expression is tense, and his voice is raised, though you can't make out the words. As you get closer, you catch the tail end of his conversation.

"Just forget it, alright?!" Franco snaps before hanging up the phone abruptly, his jaw clenched.

You approach him carefully, concerned by the frustration etched across his face. "Hey," you say softly, touching his arm. "Is everything okay? Who was that?"

Franco startles slightly, but his expression softens when he sees you. He takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as he tries to shake off whatever had him so riled up. "It's nothing important," he says quickly, forcing a smile. "Just... a stupid thing, don't worry about it."

You tilt your head, sensing that there's more to it, but Franco's already changing the subject. "So, you found me," he says, pulling you into his arms with a grin. "Does that mean I get a good luck kiss after practice?"

You smile, but your curiosity lingers. "Of course," you reply, leaning in to kiss him gently. But as you pull away, you can't help but wonder what was really going on with that phone call.

Tag list: @hs2016

[purrple-sectors]

I'm only going to say this once. Idc if you agree with me or not

LANDO HAS EVERY FUCKING RIGHT TO BE PISSED AND DISAPOINTED

I love Oscar, for goodness sake he's my favourite driver and IM SO HAPPY HE WON!!!!! But it wasnt Lando's fault what happened, those team orders were shit and what happened on the race will obviously put a bad taste on both of their drivers' mouth

While I do think Oscar deserved the win since he drove very well today, imo after that shitshow that was that second pitstop, Lando also had every right to keep p1. Its fucked to prioritize a driver and then forcing him to swap with his teammate

We cant forget that Lando is atm p2 on the drivers championship, and yes there's a big gap to Max but every point counts. I've been seeing people calling Lando selfish for what happened and yea if he had taken the win he would have been selfish, but then we do admit that past WDC were selfish and praise their doings. Why do we negatively accuse only Lando of being selfish?? Its hypocritical.

Lando could have been really selfish and taken the win and the points for his place in the championship, but he didnt and that shows how much he cares about his teammate. Many drivers, like Max let's be honest, wouldn't have done for their teammate what Lando did today. And maybe Lando took alot of time to do the swap but we need to recognize that he wasnt put in a easy position, he had a decent gap when Oscar left the pitlane and had a chance to get more points, how many drivers would have jumped to that chance?

Its McLaren's fault period. Oscar isnt blaming Lando and Lando isnt blaming Oscar, there's no need to make drama where it doesnt exist. McLaren screwed both drivers and in fact Lando is more disappointed with his race start than with what happened later on.

The radios that were shared between the pitwall and the drivers weren't pretty and shows how much the team was at fault. Lando wasnt made aware that he would undercut Oscar, then he was given a "deal" that he would swap positions when his teammate reached him, ofc he would make a gap like any other racing driver would do, and then he was frankly guilt tripped in live tv to let Oscar pass through. I wouldn't be happy if that happened to me and I dont think anyone else would be.

IT WASNT LANDO IT WAS THE POOR STRATEGY THAT TAINTED OSCAR'S MAIDEN WIN

BOTH drivers were put on a tough position. McLaren did shitty strategy calls and then tried to fix the things on the worst way possible, playing with their drivers' feelings, ofc Lando will be pissed!! This was weird and this shouldn't be what racing is.

Once again I'll say that I'm very happy for Oscar's win, I'm very proud of him and I think he totally deserves it!!! Still I think we all should acknowledge that McLaren screwed both of them and that it's normal they aren't feeling well with how the race ended, we should let them sort everything out at their own pace and not be accusing or talking badly about any of them now.

Now we need to wait and see if this decisions will affect anything in the long term but we'll see.

Proud of Oscar tho 🧡

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART IV

—know it’s for the better

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 7.2k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). mentions of sex. angst (heavy on this i'm sorry in advance) cussing, age gap, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: hi everyone! yes yes i know i disappeared for like 5 months but let's pretend i didn't. i've seen all of your messages and comments and i'm overwhelmed with all the love you've shown to the previous parts. thank you so much to everyone who likes, reblogs and leaves a kind message, i see you and love u. here's a new lil chapter, i hope you enjoy it. happy reading!!

masterlist with next parts!

February 28th, 2019 

Cort Theater, NY

The day was here. The day he had been eagerly waiting on for months. The anticipation had been building up, and now he was finally going to perform in front of a live audience for the first time in what felt like an eternity. The months of rehearsals and hard work had all led up to this moment, and he was ready to give it his all.

He was starring in the new Broadway production of “King Lear" as Edmond, one of the play's most complex and intriguing characters. The role had challenged him in ways he had never experienced before, pushing him to delve deep into the character's motivations and emotions. As he stepped onto the stage, the bright lights shining down on him, he felt a surge of adrenaline and a sense of purpose. 

And just like that, three hours and twenty-five minutes later, the final curtain fell on the play. The audience erupted into thunderous applause, their standing ovation a testament to their incredible performance. Exhausted but exhilarated, he knew he had given everything he had to the role and left it all on the stage. 

His mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The rush of adrenaline slowly subsided, and as much as he wanted to hear what everyone thought of his performance, there was only one person whose opinion mattered to him right now: yours. 

The last time he saw you was on your last day in Chile, almost two months ago. He vividly remembered the bittersweet farewell outside his family's house—you getting into the car and him closing the door. A door that seemed to separate their worlds. Since then, they had kept in touch through messages and occasional video calls, but it wasn't the same. Of course it wasn't. It will never be. 

The distance between them had only fueled his longing, making him yearn for your presence even more. Constantly trying to derail his one-track mind. 

He knows you're here. He had invited his siblings and closest friends. However, he was unsure of your attendance until an hour before the show, when he received a text from Oscar:

"She's coming with me. Stop pacing and good luck." 

He hadn't really discussed what happened back in Chile with Oscar or anyone, for that matter, but he could tell everyone knew something was off about how the two of you interacted. So when he got the message from Oscar, instead of freaking out about him potentially finding out about you two, he felt relieved. 

It gave him comfort to know that Oscar knew him so well that he was aware of the fact that you were the cause of his two-hour pacing in his dressing room. It was also fucking stupid and laughable. 

The energy backstage was electric as he walked through the bustling crowd of crew members and performers. He entered his dressing room, grabbing his phone and immediately seeing all the texts from friends and his siblings. He opened one from Javiera: "Felicidades, hermanito! Killed it. See you at The Terrace." 

They had planned on getting together afterwards to celebrate. He replied with a grateful smile, saying he'd be there in a few and to get there without him. He quickly changed into a more casual outfit: dark jeans and a comfortable white t-shirt. Wanting to unwind after the intense performance, he made his way to the restaurant. It was only a few blocks away from the theater, so he decided to enjoy the pleasant evening weather and take a leisurely stroll. 

Once he got there and stepped out of the elevator, Pedro watched you from across the room. A delicate hand rested on Oscar's shoulder as you chatted and laughed together. He felt a bubble of pride in himself swell; it warmed him to know that you were enjoying yourself and having a good time. 

He felt like an intruder in your intimate moment, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. At least I don't have to miss her anymore because she's right there, he thought. 

Pedro made his way across the room, trying to appear nonchalant as he approached the table. 

"There he is! the man of the hour," Oscar said, a wide smile spreading across his face. 

You turned. Eyes meeting, and it was like a car crash. A collision of emotions and memories flooding back all at once. The air between you crackled with unresolved tension, and Pedro's heart raced as he struggled to find the right words to say.  

"You came," he said, his voice stern. Not reflecting at all the turmoil inside him. "Thank you." 

"Well, you called," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant as well. Deep down, though, your heart was pounding just as fast as Pedro's. 

Everyone seemed to ignore the palpable tension in the room and how he was losing his mind over these unclear conversations between your glances, carrying on with their congratulatory words to Pedro as if nothing had happened. But for Pedro and you, time stood still. 

People settled into an easy conversation, enjoying each other's company as the night went on. As the night went on, Pedro and you exchanged occasional glances, silently acknowledging the shared secret that lingered. He wanted to scream it at the top of his lungs: We slept together! We slept together, and I loved it! He wanted every single person in New York to hear it. To feel the exhilaration and passion that consumed him. 

However, to say it was to make it real, and Pedro wasn't quite ready to face the consequences of that reality just yet. He knew his place in her life. He knew it was better this way. However, the ever-present question of 'Is it better to have something and lose it than never have it at all?' haunted his mind. 

The laughter and chatter around you provided a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions swirling within both of you. After a couple drinks, the atmosphere became more relaxed, and Pedro found himself engaging in lighthearted conversations with the people around him. 

"Ah, man. I need a cigarrette," he said to Oscar, reaching into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. 

"Go, go. I'll keep everyone entertained," Oscar replied with a smile, gesturing towards the lively crowd. Pedro nodded gratefully and stepped outside, the cool night air providing a brief respite from the chaos of his thoughts. As he lit his cigarette and took a long drag, he couldn't help but wonder if the temporary escape it offered was worth the potential consequences. 

"I thought you quit," you remarked, slowly making your way to him, eyebrows raised in mild surprise. Pedro turned and exhaled a cloud of smoke, a wistful expression crossing his face. "I did, but you know me. I have a hard time letting go of old habits," he admitted, flicking the ash off his cigarette.

"Care to share?" you asked, gesturing towards the pack of cigarettes in his hand. Pedro hesitated for a moment. 

"No." 

"No?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow. 

"I don't want to be the reason you get lung cancer." 

You chuckled. "Ok, so you can do it, but I can't. Got it." 

"I'm old; there's no use," he said with a shrug. "However, you have a whole life ahead of you."

"You make it sound like you're on a deathbed," you teased, taking a playful jab at Pedro's dramatic statement. He smirked and took a long drag from his cigarette before responding. "Maybe I am, in a way. But hey, we all gotta go someday, right?" 

"That's...dark," you sighed. "mind if we changed the subject?" 

"Sure, what do you want to talk about?" Pedro asked, flicking the ash from his cigarette. "Anything to distract me from my impending doom," he added with a smirk. 

A laugh escaped your lips as you thought of a lighter topic. "How about we discuss your play?"  Pedro's eyes lit up at the suggestion, momentarily forgetting about his earlier morbid thoughts. 

"How are you feeling about your performance?"

Pedro looked at you for a little too long before finally responding, "It's funny I'm thinking about death because I've never felt more alive than on that stage." 

"I could tell. I thought you were great, P." 

He shook his head modestly. "Thanks, but I still feel like there's room for improvement. I want to push myself even further in the next shows." 

"I get that." 

Pedro watched you stare at the ground. His thoughts began to conspire against him, and as he was about to speak, you also looked up and opened your mouth at the same time. Words rushed out in unison.

You both paused, realizing you had interrupted each other. Pedro chuckled tentatively and motioned for you to go ahead. "Sorry, you first," he said with a polite smile. 

You bit your lip, seemingly trying to gather your thoughts. "It's nothing. I just wanted to tell you I'll be in Europe for awhile. I got the Nolan movie."  

"Woah, another one?" 

"Yup. The role isn't as big as in interstellar, but I love working with him so much I couldn't pass up the opportunity."  Pedro nodded, a mix of excitement and disappointment flickering across his face. "That's amazing; congratulations. I'm sure you'll do great, as always," he said sincerely. "I'll definitely miss having you around, though." 

"Well, it's not like it'll be much different than now," you replied. "I haven't seen you since...since you know,"  your expression turned somber, cheeks flushed. 

You were right. He was so busy with the play and his new role in the second installment of Wonder Woman that he barely had any time. He even had to cut back on his time on set for The Mandalorian reshoots this month and a few scenes for a second season that haven't even been announced. 

"Yeah, I know." 

"Should we talk about it?" 

"I mean, there's nothing to talk about, really," Pedro said with a shrug, not daring to look you in the eye. "We slept together, and we both agreed that was it. No need to complicate things further." he tried to maintain a casual tone, but his voice wavered slightly. 

Pedro wanted to scream. The nicotine clouding his lungs was the only thing keeping him from losing control. It seemed like all he was left with was a painful reminder of what could have been. He looked at you as he took another puff of smoke. Your eyes clearly searching for a trace of emotion in his face, but finding none. 

A droplet of rain landed on Pedro's cheek as he inhaled deeply, feeling the coolness against his skin. It was as if the universe was reflecting his inner turmoil, adding to the weight of his unspoken words. He watched as you looked up at the darkening sky, the raindrops falling steadily on your hair. 

The sound of thunder echoed in the distance, mirroring the storm brewing within him. He dropped the cigarrette from his hand, its ember extinguished by the rain.

"Isn't that the point of love, though?" you finally responded, your voice raspy and drunk with bitterness and resignation. "To complicate things, to make us question everything, to drive us to the brink of madness. Maybe it's not meant to be simple, Pedro." 

His body tensed up, and your words clearly struck a nerve. The weight of your statement hung heavy in the air, leaving an uncomfortable silence between you both. It was no secret that his perspective on love had been tainted by past experiences, leaving him guarded and unwilling to let go of his pain. 

"You're right. Which is why I would rather stay away from it. I've seen firsthand the havoc it can wreak on people's lives," Pedro admitted, his voice laced with a hint of frustration. He knows he's hurting you; he can see it by the way your eyes glisten with unshed tears. 

"So that's it, then?" you asked, your voice trembling. "Is this how it is always going to be?"

But he can't risk it. "I thought we were on the same page with this." 

He sees how your jaw tightens at his statement. He knows he's hurting you. He's twisting the knife even deeper. He can't seem to stop just because he believes it's for the better. 

Please know it's for the better. 

"Yeah, I guess it's better this way," you spat back, your voice filled with anger. Of course, you could tell exactly how he was feeling. 

"Guys! What the fuck are you doing outside? It's fucking pouring!" A friend shouts from the doorway. "Get inside!" 

You both stood there staring at each other, momentarily forgetting the rain pouring down around you. 

“Yeah. What the fuck are we doing?" you say, not even trying to mask the anger in your voice. 

He wants to reach out and kiss you. Kiss you so hard that his lips would bruise. Kiss you so hard that your pain will fade away. But that action would go against everything he had just said. 

So he just watches you turn around and leave. 

What the fuck is he doing?

3 months later

After weeks of shooting in the United Kingdom and the Amalfi Coast, you and the crew finally had a couple of days off. Aaron, John, and Rob had the brilliant idea to take a quick trip to Monaco. 

“It’s a Grand Prix weekend,” Aaron said excitedly. “Maybe if we make a few calls, we could still snag some passes.” 

“Doesn’t that start this week?” Rob inquired, taking a sip of his drink. Ever since your arrival in Italy, the four of you finally got the chance to eat dinner together at a nice restaurant. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Aaron waved his hands in the air, “but if we leave tomorrow, there’s plenty of time to get there and enjoy ourselves.” 

You were so focused on your meal that you missed the sound of your name coming from Aaron’s mouth. “Hellooo?” he continued, and you looked up at him, eyebrows raised. “Aren’t you friends with Lewis Hamilton?” 

“Yeah. Well, I mean, we see each other sometimes at events and stuff. He’s really nice,” you tell him, still feeling a bit distracted. 

“Could you maybe give him a call and get us those passes?” he asks, pouting like a puppy. John laughs at him, hitting him lightly on the arm. 

“Sure, I can try,” you reply, feeling a bit hesitant. You rarely ask for special favors and don't want to come across as entitled, even more so when you haven't spoken to Lewis in so long. 

“Yes!” Aaron celebrates by raising his fists. "Um, one more thing,"

“Mate, you’re pushing it now,” Rob remarks with a playful tone. You can tell he's enjoying the banter between you and Aaron. 

“Go on,” you gesture at him to continue, a smile on your face. 

“Could we also use your PP?” 

“Use her what now?” John exclaims. Laughter erupts from Rob's mouth, making you and John join in. 

“Her private plane, mate!” Aaron says, embarrassed. 

“Yes, Aaron,” you get out, still laughing. “I’ll let you use my PP.”

"Thank you!" 

•••

The flight to Monaco was smooth and quick. You spent most of it trying to focus on a script for a project after this one while the boys all slept. After your dinner last night, you made two calls: one to Lewis to ask about the passes and one to your publicist to let her know about your last-minute adventure. 

Lewis was very nice as usual and said that, of course, he can get you the passes, while your agent said attending an F1 weekend would be good publicity and good fun. A win-win situation, she called it. She also said that since you were going to attend the race, you might as well attend all the events that come with it, which meant she had to fly in to assist you.

By the time the plane finally landed and you made it to the hotel, you were worn out. You spent the rest of the afternoon and night sleeping, without a care in the world. The next day, soft knocks on the door woke you up. 

"It's me,"  Taylor's voice called out. 

You groggily got out of bed and opened the door to find her standing there with her laptop, a cup of coffee, and a huge smile on her face. "Good morning, sleeping beauty." 

Although you hadn't passed a mirror on your way to answer the door, you had the feeling that you didn't look visually appealing at the moment. Your body ached, like you wrestled with a wild animal all night and lost. 

"Did you just get here?" you ask her, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. She smiles and shakes her head. "I got here late last night, but you weren't answering the phone, so I called Renata instead, and she said you were sleeping. And like the great person I am, I let you rest." Renata is your PA/publicist, a great friend, and one of the two constants in your life, along with Taylor. 

"Wow, so kind of you," you say sarcastically, but can't help the small smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth. "Come in." 

As Taylor enters, you shut the door behind her. She scans the space in fascination. There are floor-to-ceiling windows on the wall that run the length of the room and the wall to your left, which is behind the dining room table. A broad view of the harbor can be seen between the sheer, white, fluttering lengths of the floating curtains. 

"Gorgeous suite," she says, sitting on the plush sofa across the room. 

"Ren always chooses the best rooms, so yes," you tell her, sinking once again into your warm bed. 

"You're still tired? You've slept for like 16 hours already," she chuckles, pouring herself a glass of water from the crystal pitcher on the side table. "I know, but I guess the jetlag is hitting me harder than I thought," you reply with a yawn, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath of the fragrant flowers on the nightstand. 

"You didn't come to Monaco to sleep, did you?" Taylor chuckles, sitting down on the edge of the bed. 

"Yes?" 

"No! We have a full itinerary planned for today, starting with breakfast at Café de Paris across the street with the boys. And then we're off to the Hotel de Paris for a F1 brunch event. There will be lots of food, drinks, and hot guys. Specifically, hot F1 drivers," you groan-laugh inwardly at the thought of dragging yourself out of bed so early for the sake of hot guys. "You know that's the last thing on my mind, right?" 

"Well, not on mine!" she replies with a wink. "But seriously, it's not just about the eye candy. The event is also for a good cause, raising funds for a local charity. And it's also a great place to network and meet new people—you know the drill." You nod in agreement, feeling more motivated to attend, knowing that it's for a meaningful purpose. 

With a determined sigh, you sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. "Okay, I'll shower."

"Let me call Renata and tell her to prep the car and get the glam team in here." 

"Thank you," you tell her, disappearing into the bathroom. 

•••

Two hours later, you find yourself entering the venue of a charity event with your very impatient and rather enthusiastic co-star and best friend, Aaron. The venue is buzzing with excitement as you take in the elegant decorations and the well-dressed attendees. Since it's Monaco in May, you're sporting a light blue strapless top and white linen pants that complement the warm weather and the sophisticated atmosphere of the event.

"I can't believe Rob and John sat this one out because they were 'too tired', Aaron remarks, shaking his head in disbelief. 

"Well, they don't have the energy of a 5-year-old, unlike you," you tease, playfully nudging him. "But hey, more champagne for us," you add with a mischievous grin as you grab two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. "Cheers."

The bubbles tickle your nose as you take a sip, savoring the crisp and refreshing taste. 

Camera flashes illuminate the room as people mingle and engage in lively conversations. You're stopped every 5 minutes by someone wanting to take a picture with you. You oblige every time with a smile, posing for each photo and exchanging pleasantries. After all, that's why you're here for. 

Everything was going smoothly until someone bumped into you, causing you to spill champagne all over your clothes. The cold liquid seeps mostly through the fabric of your top, leaving a sticky sensation against your skin. 

"Oh, my bad," you hear a thick Australian accent apologize. You turn to see a rather tall, tan-skinned, handsome man with a sheepish grin on his face. Did you say how handsome he was? And what the fuck was he smiling for? 

Once he realizes who you are, his eyes widen in surprise and anguish. People start noticing the commotion and turn their attention towards the two of you. The man quickly grabs your arm and pulls you away from the crowd, his grip firm but gentle. 

"Hey! Where are you taking me!" you protest, trying to free your arm from his grasp. His grip tightens slightly, but he maintains a calm demeanor as he leads you towards a quieter corner. As you reach a bathroom, he finally releases his hold on you and takes a step back, his expression filled with concern. 

"Relax, I'm not kidnapping you." 

The chaos around you fades into the background as he shuts the door and starts grabbing paper towels. "Shit, here," he says, handing you one. "Sorry for ruining your clothes."  

You start wiping the spilled drink off your clothes, a little annoyed at the inconvenience. You can feel his gaze burning into you without looking. 

"Do ya want me to give you mine?" he offers, gesturing towards his own shirt. "It might be a bit big on you, but at least it's dry." he pauses, waiting for your response. 

You stare at him. "And what? you're going to walk around shirtless?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. He chuckles. "Yeah, I have a banging body, so I'll just be doing everybody here a favor here, really," he replies with a smirk. 

You roll your eyes at his cocky remark. "I think I'll manage without your shirt, thanks," you say sarcastically. "But I appreciate the offer." 

He laughs as he observes you. "Okay, then let me find another way to make it up to you." 

"There's no need."

"Do you have plans tonight?"

"I'm fine."

"Does 7 p.m. sound good to you?"

"Listen—"

"Where are you staying?" 

"I don't even know you."

"It's Daniel."

"Okay, Daniel. I don't know you, so no."

"But you could," he says with a playful glint in his eyes. "And who knows, it could be the start of something new." 

"Are you quoting High School Musical to me?" 

"Hey, it's a classic. And it was right there." 

You chuckle, unable to resist his charm. Something lights up in his eyes. 

"Listen, I won't push you anymore. It's up to you. Can't blame me for trying, though." you raise an eyebrow, considering his words. 

"I'm going to go now," you tell him, pointing at the door. 

He nods understandingly. "See ya later."

•••

After about 30 more minutes of indulging everyone in conversation and enjoying the party, Lewis Hamilton finds you. "Hi sweetie, there you are," he greets you, ever so polite. "I heard chatter that you were here. I thought I wouldn't see you until tomorrow's practice sessions." 

"Oh yeah, but you know duty calls," you say with a smile as you lean in to hug him. "It's so nice to see you. Thanks again for the passes." 

"Oh, it's nothing. You would've gotten them without me, but I'm glad you called me instead. How have you been enjoying Monaco so far?" 

"Good, good—" you begin, but before you can finish your sentence, a burst of laughter you recognize from earlier erupts from across the room. "Actually, do you happen to know him?" you ask Lewis, gesturing with your head towards the source of laughter. Daniel is joyfully engaged in conversation with a group of people. Lewis follows your gaze and chuckles, "Ah, that's Daniel Ricciardo. He's a fellow Formula 1 driver and quite the character, to be honest. He's a cool dude." 

"Huh," is all you manage to say as you watch Daniel animatedly tell a story, his infectious laughter filling the room. 

"What are we looking at?" Renata and Aaron find you and join the conversation; their curiosity is piqued. 

"Nothing," you quickly respond. Renata immediately caught on to your evasive response and followed your gaze. "Oh, Daniel?" she exclaims, voice hushed and her eyes glinting with excitement. 

"Wait, you know who he is?"

"I did my homework on the plane. He drives for Renault, and he looks great doing it."

Lewis and Aaron chuckle at Renata's enthusiasm, sharing in her excitement. "I think Renata will be watching a few races from now on," Lewis remarks, causing everyone to laugh. Renata shrugs, a proud smile on her face. "Trust me, I will, but not for him. Have you heard of Charles Leclerc?" 

You're still staring at Daniel, dumbfounded. Wheels are turning in your mind. 

Aaron's voice interrupts your thoughts. "So...why are we still staring at him?" 

"I'm going on a date with him tonight." 

Your own declaration surprises you. 

"Wait, you are?" both of your friends say in unison, their eyes widening with curiosity. 

"Yes," you say, setting down your drink. "You guys ready to go now?" 

They nodded, not wanting to press further but clearly intrigued by this, and you said your goodbyes to Lewis, promising to see him on Friday at the track. As you made your way to the exit, you grabbed Daniel by the arm and pulled him aside. 

"Hotel Hermitage, 7 p.m., Room 303. Don't be late," you whispered, voice calm and steady. Daniel's mouth curled into a smile, but he maintained his composure and nodded, a feeling of excitement in his gaze. With a final pat on his shoulder, you rejoined your friends and headed out of the venue, eager for the evening ahead. 

•••

You don't know what the hell you were thinking when you said yes. You could feel your anxiety building as the time approached—face flushed, stomach twisting in knots. James and Liz, your hair and makeup team, paused, laying out brushes and curling wands. "Everything okay, love?" James asked. "You want us out?" 

"No, keep going. You're almost done, anyway. I'm just internally freaking out a little." 

"You're great and look beautiful," Liz replied. "There's nothing to worry about."

You give her a tight smile and try to believe her words, but the nagging doubts continue to linger in the back of your mind. As the final touches are applied, you take a deep breath and say your goodbyes to them. 

"Good luck and have fun!" James says as Liz winks at you and closes the door. You chuckle at their enthusiasm. You walk back into the bedroom and pick up the black cocktail dress hanging on the closet door. The soft fabric feels comforting against your fingertips as you slip it on. The dress hugs your curves perfectly, accentuating your best features. You grab your clutch and check yourself in the mirror one last time. 

A knock on the door startles you. "Coming!" 

Breathe, you remind yourself. 

"Wow," Daniel says with a warm smile. "You look absolutely stunning. Are you ready to go?"  

You're sure your face must look like a tomato as you thank Daniel for the compliment. 

"Yes, let's." 

As you reach the entrance of the hotel, Daniel hands the valet a ticket, and he opens the door of his car for you. "My lady," he says with a playful bow. You can't help but feel a rush of excitement as you step into the very flashy luxury car. For an F1 driver, you didn't expect anything less. The soft leather seats hug your body as you settle in, and the sleek interior design adds to the overall opulence of the vehicle. Daniel starts the engine, and the car glides smoothly onto the road. 

"Where are you taking me?" 

He looks at you with a mischevious grin plastered on his face. "My friend Max is throwing a yatch party tonight, and I thought it would be the perfect way to spend the night," he says, revving the engine slightly. "But I intend to dine and wine you before we head there." 

"Oh," you reply nonchalantly, "Nice."

"Still playing hard to get?"

You shrug and give him a grin. 

"That's alright. I enjoy a good challenge," he replies, his eyes sparkling. "But I have a feeling that by the end of the week, you won't be able to resist my charm." He winks at you. 

"You're quite confident, aren't you?" you say, raising an eyebrow. "But don't underestimate my ability to resist." You smirk back at him, ready to prove him wrong. 

The car pulls up to the entrance of the restaurant, and you both step out onto the bustling street. You make your way inside. "Oh, I've been here before," you say lowly, feeling a little satisfied that it is something you've experienced already, so it's harder for him to impress you. 

You couldn't have been more wrong, though. 

The hostess greets you with a warm smile and leads you to the main dining area. As you follow her, you can't help but notice it's....empty. Not a single table is occupied. The dimly lit room feels intimate and cozy, with soft music playing in the background and red roses adorning each table.  

The hostess gestures towards a table in the middle of the room. "The waiter will be with you shortly," she says before leaving you alone. 

You turn around, facing Daniel. "Did you rent out the entire restaurant for us?" you ask, slightly surprised. Daniel chuckles and shakes his head. "No, I just made a reservation for a quiet evening," he replies. 

"You're an awful liar."

"I just saw how hectic everything was for you this morning, with all the pictures and people clamoring for your attention. I wanted to give you a break from that and create a peaceful vibe for us to enjoy tonight," Daniel explains, his eyes filled with sincerity. 

You smile. "That's very thoughtful. Thank you."

"I have my moments." 

The night continues with the two of you enjoying the delicious food and engaging in fun and light conversation. The peaceful atmosphere allows you both to relax and truly connect with each other. 

Just what you needed but didn't realize until now. 

"You're literally always smiling," you tell him. In the very short time you've known Daniel, there's something constant about him: his distinctive smile. Daniel chuckles and replies, "It's amazing what surgery can do. Formula 1 pays really well, and I was able to put a lot of that money into permanent smile surgery."

You burst out laughing. "Well, they did a great job," you say, still chuckling.

•••

You glided arm in arm onto the yatch, dry martinis in hand and a revolving stream of waitstaff to refill your drinks as soon as they emptied. You feel more relaxed and comfortable now. Maybe it was the three glasses of wine you had at dinner and the drink that's currently in your hand, or maybe it was the contagious laughter and carefree attitude of your date. 

Cote d'Azur was a smooth wash of precious stones at this time of year. The ocean's deep, smoky blue stretched out like a shiny carpet. Loud music blasted from the speakers, and the upper deck was transformed into a vibrant dance floor with people spinning and swaying to the beat. 

You wished you could rest your head on Daniel's shoulder without looking like you were already drunk. 

He excitedly introduced you to his friends, who instantly made you feel like part of their tight-knit circle. As the night progressed, you found yourself effortlessly blending in. 

"So how did this insufferable clown manage to take you out on a date?" Max asked, his voice loud over the booming music. 

You shared a brief glance with Daniel. "He spilled champagne all over me."

"And then she couldn't help but fall for my charming personality and good looks," Daniel interjected with a playful grin. 

"Yes, that's exactly what happened." 

Daniel puts a hand on your lower back, and you mindlessly lean into his touch. "You wanna go outside for a bit?" 

The need for some fresh air and a break from the crowded room causes you to hum in agreement. You leaned over and observed the white waves as they cut through the water as you came across a section of railing near the stern of the yatch. 

The sound of the waves crashing against the yacht provided a soothing soundtrack to your conversation. As you leaned against the railing, Daniel's playful banter continued. 

"Are you having fun?" 

"Very much so," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. 

"So I'm winning sooner than I thought I would."

"Winning what exactly, Daniel?" you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully. "The game of enjoying this beautiful yacht ride? Then yes, I suppose you are." 

He laughed, but it wasn't his usual boisterous laugh. It was a softer, more genuine sound that made your heart flutter. 

He came closer. "Would you like me to whisper it in your ear?" 

As he leaned in, you could feel the warmth of his presence enveloping you. His eyes were locked with yours. 

"You're falling for me," he whispered, his voice husky. The words sent a shiver down your spine, confirming what you had been trying to deny for the past hour or so. Not because you didn't find him charming or attractive, but because you felt like you were betraying the person who broke your heart months ago. 

How can someone break your heart if it wasn't theirs to begin with? 

You push back those thoughts. 

The playful banter that played out all night faded into the background as a new energy filled the air, sparking a connection between the two of you that was impossible to ignore. 

You give in. 

"You think?" 

He nods, his eyes dark. Your hands were encircling his neck, one at the nape of his neck and the other against the side, where you could feel his heart pounding beneath the pads of your fingers. Your fingers scraped at bristled hairs as you held onto his curls, and you enjoyed the feel of them rubbing against the pads of your fingers. You were tightly gripping him in your hands, not allowing even a millimeter to pass.

Daniel couldn’t decide where to touch you. You huffed a breath against his mouth as the lightest of touches - the barest featherweight of fingertips, like your skin was made of silk, traced along the curve of your jawline. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, making you crave more of his touch. His fingers continued their exploration, trailing down the nape of your neck, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. 

He had pressed you against the railing at your back with no warning, and you felt the firm pressure of it. And now you arose from it, attempting to cling to every bone-hard surface of Daniel's body. His lips found yours in a passionate kiss, igniting a fire within you that consumed all rational thought.

"People are watching," you whispered breathlessly, breaking the kiss reluctantly. Daniel's eyes met yours, filled with a mix of desire and mischief. He smirked, his hand sliding down your waist possessively. 

"Let them."

You were so fucked. 

•••

You’d barely been able to breathe these past couple of days with events and rendezvous with Daniel consuming your every waking moments. It was fast paced and you found yourself completely swept up in the whirlwind of emotions. He was showing you his world and you were willingly diving headfirst into it. 

It was Saturday morning, which meant is qualifying day and despite all of the media commitments and preparation that Daniel had to do, he’d promised breakfast as a way to make up for it. So here you were at a cafe only a short walk from the circuit, chewing your way through a delicious stack of pancakes while Daniel sipped on his coffee. 

It felt oddly comforting to be sitting there with him. He was a stranger to you just a few days ago, but now he feels like a familiar presence. The conversations flowed effortlessly between you; he was funny, attentive, and attentive, but most importantly, he wasn't afraid of showing you off and telling you how much he liked you. 

From the moment you crossed paths, he showed interest in you and made an effort. You haven't questioned whether he genuinely liked you or not. It was nice to be with someone who didn't play games or hide their feelings. 

Your mind has also found a new way to torture you: whenever you felt happy with Daniel, a nagging voice in the back of your head would remind you of him. 

Him. Him. Him. 

You couldn't even say or think of his name. It was too much.  

And yes, you were content, but you couldn't help but think about it. 

The first time you tasted Daniel's lips, you were let down it wasn't the same. That feeling of disappointment lingered, but as days passed, it dissipated more and more. Maybe one day it'll be gone completely, you thought. 

"So let me get this straight," you say, putting your fork and knife down on the plate. "You were on your way to winning in 2016, but a pit stop error cost you the race?" 

Daniel nods. "It haunted me for so long. I couldn't shake off the frustration."

You grab your coffee and lean back on the chair, listening intently. "It was very dark. I should've been happy because I was on the podium in Monaco, and that's huge, but I was miserable. The whole time, all I wanted to do was smash everything to pieces and scream, which is something you do not want to do in front of Monaco royalty, by the way." 

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by Daniel's emotional upheaval. This was clearly a pivotal moment for him. "So, what finally helped you move past that?" you ask, curious to hear his response. 

"Well," Daniel begins, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I won last year." 

"Yeah, that'll do it." 

You both laugh, and he places a hand on your knee beneath the table. "But honestly," he continues, his voice softening. "It wasn't just about winning. It was about proving to myself that I could overcome my own limitations and achieve greatness." 

"So...winning basically," you respond, teasingly. 

"See, I wanted to be humble about it, but let's be real, winning felt pretty damn good," Daniel admits with a sheepish grin. "I love winning."  

You snort in amusement, "Well, I guess a little bit of bragging rights never hurt anyone." 

You two carry on with your meals. His left hand still on your knee, and the air filled with contentment. 

•••

While Daniel returned from the qualifying weigh-in, you waited at the back of the garage. You had gradually gotten to know the Renault team over the previous two days. Everyone, from the mechanics to the media team, has been friendly and welcoming to you. You're still trying to decide whether it's because of Daniel, your status, or that they were just nice. Pretty sure it was all three. 

You were aware that it would be best for you to stay out of the way as the team worked and the broadcasting teams were filming in and around the pit lane, but you were unable to hide in Daniel's prep room. At the back of the garage, you found a calm area where you could watch the busy activity without being a nuisance. 

You were aware that, although you might have been in the VIP sections, you couldn't be that far away from him. You were able to feel more connected to Daniel and the team's spirit by spending time in the garage.

The phone had been ringing nonstop all day in the back pocket of your pants; the screen frequently flashed with new notifications from your social media accounts or texts or calls from friends and family. You were aware that the countless pictures of Daniel and you parading through Monaco were the root of the problem. 

It was truly a sight to behold to be watching him race around the track and walk around the paddock. 

He was in his element. 

"You look cute, baby," he says, referring to the oversized headseat on your head. His face flushed from the heat, and yours from the compliment. His hair was messy and a little damp from sweat, evidence of the intense racing. He looked perfect. 

Fuck. 

He leaned in for a kiss, his lips brushing against yours, electricity rushing through you. 

Fuck. 

"I think you're winning," you say, your eyes fixed on him. 

"Aw, that's sweet of you, baby, but I didn't qualify that great," he chuckles, his eyes twinkling with amusement. 

"That's not what I meant."

His face is puzzled for a moment before realization dawns on him. He smirks, his signature smile spreading across his face. "Oh," he says, his voice filled with warmth and affection. 

"Yeah," you say, barely above a whisper, your eyes never leaving his. 

"I told you so," he replies, his voice filled with confidence and pride. 

"Shut up," you say playfully before kissing him again.

Fuck. 

You were falling for him. 

a/n: oh oh pedro...someone's stealing your girl. are you guys team pedro or team daniel?

Reblog or like if you enjoyed it! thank you for reading :)

[isaidlandowecanbeworldchampion]

Sparks Fly - Lost the Breakup Part 4

A/n: I'm sorry for the long wait between chapter, I find it hard to write longform style things without jumping straight to the fun stuff and building enough tension.... But we all learn somehow so i hope you bear with me.

Previous Part || Next Part

The cool air hit your burning face as you rushed onto the balcony and began to pace in the small space. The hiss of the shower echoed from the bathroom. You ran your hands through your hair and heaved a deep breath. 

What. The. Fuck. 

Oscar is just a friend, right? So why do you feel like an electric current is running through your whole body? You slump onto the small chair occupying the space, you head resting in your hands. You need to clear your head. Standing back up, you spot the small notebook on the desk in the corner of the room. Quickly scrawling a note to Oscar. 

Gone for a walk, don’t wait up. 

–

The cool water of the shower did nothing to wash away the excitement running through Oscar's skin. He had almost done it. He’d almost kissed her. He tilts his head back and lets the water run over his face. The way she looked up at him minutes ago flashed through his mind, was she disappointed that he’d pulled away? Was she disgusted that it had even happened? Oscar’s mind races with the possibilities. 

Once he had washed his hair and relaxed from the day of travelling, he stepped out of the shower. Immediately, he realised that in his haste he had forgotten a change of clothes. 

Wrapping a fluffy hotel towel around his hips he poked his head out of the bathroom. Y/n was nowhere to be seen but he could see that a note had been written on the pad by the desk. 

He stepped out of the bathroom and quickly read the note before getting dressed into pyjama pants and laying on the couch to watch some netflix. If she wasn't going to be here when he went to sleep, she couldn't argue that he deserved the bed more. 

–

Oscar thankfully had left by the time you awoke. Now, half an hour later and sipping a coffee on the balcony, you decide to bite the bullet and text Oscar. 

Y/n:  I’m sorry if I snore 

Osc: You don’t, Don’t worry

Y/n:  Shouldn't have taken the couch though, I thought I had won it fair and square 

Osc: As I said, My mother would kill me if I let a lady sleep on the couch

Osc: Although I can’t say my back is thanking me though

Y/n:  Maybe you should come share the bed then…

You fling your phone onto the couch next to you and run your hands through your hair. Your phone buzzes and you grab it, before lowering it back down again. You stare down at it, eyes wide with nervous curiosity. It buzzes again and, your nerves suddenly overcome, you open your chat with Oscar. 

Osc: I mean if you’re offering

Osc: We’re both adults right 

– 

You are settled in bed once Oscar returns from his media duties, having grabbed dinner with his team on the way back to the hotel. 

“Hey, How was your day?” he asks  after coming through the door, placing his backpack next to the door and pulling his team polo over his head. 

Your mouth goes dry at his toned chest. You had seen him shirtless before, but he had really bulked up since joining the team. Everything was turned up, every muscle defined perfectly without Oscar looking strange or too big. 

“Y/n?” he asks again.

“Oh yeah” You answer lamely, “ I went and explored a little, I forgot that there's not really much to do around here outside of the race, but I was thinking that while you're at the track tomorrow I’d drive down to Stavelot and visit the Abbey and the Race Museum… If  you don’t mind me using the hire car that is?” 

Oscar smiled, “I got the car so you wouldn't be stuck at the hotel, it's yours to use. I’ll ask one of the guys to give me a ride to the track.” 

You nod, “Okay, it's just Lando didn't like me driving the hire cars, and he always wanted me at the track with him so I never got to go exploring” 

“You don’t have to explain.” Oscar grabbed his pyjama pants and his towel, “I’m going to have a shower, do you want to pick a movie to watch?” 

–

You burst out  a giggle when you look at Oscar. He’s sitting popped against the headboard of the hotel bed, mouthing  along with the words of the movie. You’d picked Cars for nostalgia, but watching Oscar remembering all the words to the childhood classic was more entertaining. 

Oscar looked at you, his ‘secret weapon’ ice cream bowl abandoned on the nightstand. 

“What?” He laughs with you, “I love this movie!”

“Nothing” You hum, curling up tight under the blankets, facing Oscar. Your eyelids fluttering when you realise how tired you are. 

“Goodnight, y/n” Oscar murmurs, running his hands through your hair splayed on the pillow. 

You mumble a goodnight back before drifting off to the murmur of the tv and his hands in your hair. 

–

YN LN spotted in Spa ahead of the Belgian GP. Does this mark a reunion for YN and Lando?

-

Lando grips his phone as he storms towards Oscar’s hotel room. Rage pumping through his veins. He bangs on the door with his fist, pausing before banging again. 

Oscar swings the door open, his hair mussed and wiping sleep from his eyes. 

“What the fuck is going on, mate?” He mumbles, leaning gently against the door. 

“Where the fuck is she?” Lando asks loudly, making a start into the room. Oscar gently places his hand on Lando’s chest and pushes him back into the hallway. “I know she’s here.” 

“Can you chill out?” Oscar hisses, “Yes, shes here” 

“ I-” Lando begins but Oscar puts a hand up to stop him. 

“Mate, you fucked up. You hurt her and then when she saw you in Monaco, you hurt her again.” Oscar says. “She didn’t come to see you. She came with me. Go to bed.” 

“How am I supposed to sleep when you’re fucking my girlfriend?” 

“Lando” Oscar gently places his hand on Lando’s shoulder, “ She’s not your girlfriend anymore.”

All of the emotions hit him at once and Lando found himself with tears running down his cheeks. 

“But I love her,” Lando sobs. “We can’t-, I can’t, I need her”

Oscar pulls him into a hug, Lando’s face smashing into his shoulder. 

“Goodnight, Lando.” Oscar releases the older man, “We can talk more in the morning”

The door to the hotel room clicks shut, leaving a sniffling Lando in the hallway. Oscar rested his head against the shut door. He never wanted to hurt Lando. Just like Lando hadn’t wanted to hurt you. They would talk in the morning though. 

Oscar turns and shuffles back to bed, slipping under the covers next to you. 

Taglist: @amz824 @cmleitora @herexpertcollector @piastrams @coriyaps @milkysoop

[charles-leclerc-official]

2024 Hungary Grand Prix Race Analysis

This was an eventful race, and we have a lot of data and incidents to cover, so no introductions, let's talk about what the hell happened at the Hungarian Grand Prix.

Table of Contents Ferrari - Charles, Carlos, SF-24 - Data Analysis Red Bull - Max Mclaren - Oscar - Lando - Final stint - Team critique

Ferrari

This race was a quiet comeback for Ferrari, and given the eventful nature of the race for other teams the fact that Ferrari was technically the second best team in terms of placement and consistency really flew under the radar. 

Ferrari bought a modified floor to Hungary, aimed at addressing some of the instability introduced by certain upgrades. This modification did help. 

Charles qualified P6 and finished P4, while Carlos qualified P4 and finished P6. While these results are not the best, after the Mclaren 1-2 these results are the second best placement for a team during this race weekend. Given this race was meant to be the start of Ferrari’s comeback after a series of struggling races and results, I will call this a win on that front. 

Mclaren - 43 pts Ferrari - 20 pts Mercedes - 20 pts (1 point was for George’s fastest lap) Red Bull - 16 pts

Ferrari wasn’t the strongest, but this was quiet return towards more consistency and points for both drivers. An uneventful race with higher points finishes is what the team needed and it’s what they delivered. 

Now Ferrari’s race strategy was good. The tyre management from Charles was stellar, he went 30 laps on mediums in high temperatures and was able to fight on them and put in faster laps. His battling against Max was great. While Max did have slightly better pace Charles was able to stay close enough that when Max went off because he was battling with Lewis, Charles was there to take the place back. 

Ferrari didn't have a second set of hards for Charles, so he had to go to a set of slightly used mediums. Which made it unlikely he was going to be able to battle with Lewis. However he was still able to keep pace enough with Max to be position to take the spot back when Max went off.

Carlos also had good overall pace. His race start was compromised by an issue with his clutch which was why he lost places into the first few laps. Charles easily passed him, but the more unfortunate part was the fact he fell behind Fernando, who was difficult to get past. The bad start, which was not his fault effectively ended what would have likely been a more competitive race from him. Still he pulled pretty good race pace and a solid result. 

Overall a good start to a comeback from Ferrari, far from perfect, but an uneventful race with points finishes is what the team needed. 

Data Analysis

A very quick look at Charles and Carlos race pace.

Now they were on different strategies because of the early change in track position. But here Charles tyre management on those mediums in the final stint is what really stands out. He did not lose any performance in those. His goal was to drive for consistent lap times that didn't kill the tyres. And in the heat that is challenging.

Both Charles and Carlos had good pace on the first medium stint. Charles was slightly faster on the hards, but not by a significant margin. He pit early to attempt the undercut because his main competition this race became Max. That proved to be a good move. And the SF-24 pulled it's weight, because the team can trust that car can actually pull off that kind of consistency with the tyres in the heat for that many laps.

Now let's look at Charles' pace vs his main competition: Max.

On the first mediums they were effectively matched on pace. Charles actually had better pace on the hards. Max was pushing hard on the mediums in his final stint, which is why he was much faster there. That did cost him later as he couldn't fight with Charles after his failed pass against Lewis. The takeaway here is that these two were very closely matched on pace this weekend. And it's promising for future team battles.

The other question is would Charles have been able to catch Lewis?

Maybe if he'd had new mediums for the stint instead of used mediums. Because he was on Lewis' pace or faster the entire race. So it was really a track position thing. He would have needed some extra speed to be able to catch Lewis. But the pace being close is again very promising for Ferrari's changes they made to the car.

Overall excellent showing from Charles in terms of raw pace and tyre management this race.

Red Bull

Max

Max qualified P3 and finished P5. This matched his second worst result of the season, and there are a few reasons for that. Red Bull strategy and the car were not with him 100% this weekend, and he was fighting on a lot of fronts. Now his racing was also not perfect, but a lot of factors were beyond his control and he is right to be frustrated. 

Turn 1: Max on turn one went around the outside of both Lando and Oscar to try the overtake. He went wide because Lando was caught in the middle and couldn’t yield any more space.

From Max’s perspective Lando forced him wide, because he couldn’t see Oscar on the inside there. From Lando’s perspective he couldn’t give any space otherwise he’d be squeezed between Oscar and Max, he had nowhere to go. 

This was just a case of crowding into the turn. I don’t think anyone is at fault, it happens. I think the issue was that to Max it felt like he was forced off when that wasn’t quite what was happening there.

Red Bull strategy really failed Max. His car was already not where he wanted it to be in terms of competitiveness. But then Red Bull allowed him to get undercut not once but twice. Once happens, a team cannot get them all right, but twice in the same race is not good. In fact this was by far Red Bull’s worst race just in terms of their strategy, which is usually and area they have few issues.

So Max was dealing with the car not being competitive enough, and then lost places beyond his control in the pits. He’s right to be upset with the team, because that was really sloppy from them.

Collision with Lewis:

Max had the inside line, he broke and locked up, Lewis was right there and couldn’t react to that in time, so he hit the rear of Max’s car. Max went off the track and lost places to Lewis and Charles before he rejoined the race. 

I don’t think Max or Lewis were at fault here. The lockup was the issue, preventing Max from being able to turn when he should have. Lewis didn’t do anything wrong either. There was no way he could have avoided contact at that point. 

It was a racing incident, neither driver is really at fault, it was just bad timing. The stewards agreed and no penalty was given. 

I will disagree with Max’s assessment that Lewis moved illegally under braking(which again is not illegal to do) Lewis’ moves there are fine, he didn’t do anything incorrect, he gave the appropriate room, it was just that lock up that made it so Max couldn’t turn when he should have. I think that from the perspective Max had in the moment with the lock up things would seem like they were moving in a way they shouldn’t have.

This was Red Bull’s worst race thus far, just in terms of car performance and final results collectively for both drivers.

Mclaren

The part of the race everyone really wants to talk about.

Before we get into this section, yes this is a Ferrari blog, yes I am not a fan of Mclaren the team. I will try to be as objective as possible, and offer an outsider’s perspective, but know that going in. Also between the two Mclaren drivers I am biased towards Oscar. I have tried my best to look at the strategy and way things unfolded on track as objectively as I can. Also note that I do not take into account what a driver has said on the radio or after a race unless I believe it had some impact on the result, informed about the car or race conditions etc. 

With all that out of the way let’s talk about the main subject of Hungary. Oscar Piastri’s maiden win in Formula 1, and how Mclaren managed to make it such a controversial affair. 

I have been saying all year that Mclaren’s strategy is mediocre at best and downright atrocious at worst. Hungary proved my point for anyone who was still clinging onto the idea that this team knows how to operate at the front. 

In Silverstone Mclaren said they’d learn from their errors that cost them the race. Well, it seems they decided to take that as inspiration on how to do worse, not better. 

I will give Mclaren some credit, it is impressive how they managed to have a 1-2 finish and no one feels like they actually won, in fact fans are extremely displeased with the team, even though they got their best result all year. It takes true skill to pull something like that off. 

Listen, I am going to have some fun here, because frankly Mclaren deserve it. This team put both their drivers in a terrible position that they never should have had to deal with in the first place. 

I feel like a lot of what I am about to say about Mclaren strategy I have said at least 5 separate times this season, but if they keep doing these mistakes then apparently it needs repeating. 

I think the core issue is twofold. 

The current team (the team not the drivers in this case) does not know how to operate at the front of the field. 

The team does not know how to manage both their drivers when both drivers are competitive at the front.

These are things a front running team needs to know how to do to be successful. Yes the drivers have had plenty of their own mistakes. But, they can only do so much when the team behind them is this incompetent. I have heavily critiqued Lando’s driving this season, however how is he supposed to confidently try to fight at the front when every single time it counted the team dropped the ball? 

Then there is Oscar who has been even less competently supported by the team. They can’t even file paperwork right on his behalf. 

I lay all this out because I think it’s important to set the stage for what unfolded during this race. 

The Race

Lando qualified on pole, he finished P2. Oscar qualified P2, and he finished P1. This was Oscar’s maiden win!

The most important parts of Mclaren’s race are lap 1, and the entire final stint with both drivers. 

Lap 1: Oscar got a good race start and took the lead of the race from Lando into turn 1. Bold move from him and a good clean pass. After this Oscar led the race until the final stint. He had a few errors on some laps where he lost the traction a left the track. No damage or significant time lost, but still, a few errors there. 

The important thing is that Oscar was the race leader, and he took that place through an overtake. This also put Lando on the back foot to his teammate after qualifying on pole. 

Oscar led the race comfortably until the final stint. Lando wasn't making any meaningful gains on him and he had his pace well under control. And given the heat this was also some of his best tyre management work.

This was a pointless pit call. Mclaren’s worry over a car that looked like it might be a threat maybe was what made them make the worst team strategy call of the season. Lewis was in P3, but he was not a serious threat on pace, and on the timesheets he was not close enough to even be a serious threat to Lando, they made that stop with plenty of time to spare. So the mentality of losing places and doing really weird moves to try to keep those places struck again. Also this was preferential toward Lando. As they were more concerned at preserving P2 for him than Oscar’s placement. Given Oscar was the race leader he should have had priority. And Lando pointed this out. The tone of his radio doesn’t really change the fact that yes, Mclaren just should have given the first support to their race leader and pit Oscar first. Lando was right about that.

I want to be very clear. Mclaren should not have put either of their drivers in this position. They orchestrated an undercut on Oscar by his own teammate for no real reason. They also put Lando is a very tough situation where he had to give back a position when he was doing well on his tyres and he’d been handed the lead of the race(by his team). 

Now, Mclaren told Lando that he’d have to swap with Oscar when they pit him first. So he knew this was coming. Since he had that information he should have made the swap as soon as Oscar came out of the pits. That was the time to make the agreed upon swap.

Lando was in a no win situation: if he swapped he’d look weak for not taking a win he could have. And if he pushed ahead and ignored the team he’d be made the villain for taking Oscar’s win. That is an unfair position to put him in, and there isn’t really an easy way to get out of it looking good. The team put him there, and are more to blame. 

HOWEVER

I am going to be critiquing Lando’s performance on this final stint. Because while yes Mclaren are to blame for the position they put him in, which was not fair to their driver, he had other options that would have saved his race and appearances within the team. His choice of how he handled a bad situation made it worse. 

Here are a few options Lando had:

Immediately swap as soon as Oscar came out of the pits and got back up to speed. This complies with the plan the team gave him and then he can just say he was following team strategy. He also could have then tried for the overtake on Oscar, he had the time to try to overtake Oscar. The team didn’t say they couldn’t race. So if he wanted to comply with team orders he could have done the swap as planned, then race Oscar and go for an overtake. Which given his tyres he might have been able to do. He would have been criticized for this, but it would have been clearly on merit so it would be very difficult to argue against.

Immediately swap with Oscar and hold position in P2 and support Oscar's first win.

Ignore the team and win the race. Tell them they fucked up the strategy and take the win with the lead the team handed him. This would not have gone over well, with the team, his teammate or many fans, but it was an option. 

He went with the worst of both options. He ignored team orders for almost 20 laps, then he swapped. So he got the negative outcome of ignoring team orders, and also the appearance of a non-competitive mentality by giving the place back. Since he ignored the team and also gave the place back he got all of the negatives associated with both, and he didn’t even get a win out of it. The way he chose to handle the situation was not good. 

I think that what you think Lando should have done really depends on personal bias. If he was my driver I might have been screaming at the TV for him to just take the win. In the interest of “fairness” in a sport that is rarely if ever fair, the thing to do was give the place back to Oscar. It was probably the best move in terms of working with the team and optics with fans and viewers. 

“Lando might need those 7 points in the WDC championship”: Well he had the option to win, if he truly believed those points were going to matter he could have taken the win, there were a few ways he could have done it as well. And I will add that I highly doubt the WDC will come down to 7 points. You have permission to come scream at me at the end of the year if I am wrong on this. But it’s a bit optimistic to think the gap is going to close to 7 points. 

“Lando was faster”: He wasn’t fast enough to be able to win from his original position in P2. He did need the team to hand him P1 to win, he didn’t have the pace to overtake Oscar. Oscar took that place and would have easily held it had the team not undercut him. 

“Lando’s tyre management was better”: okay, that doesn't mean he had the pace to close the gap on his own.

Enough about Lando, and back to the bigger problem, Mclaren. 

This was the worst handled teammate swap in recent memory. They put themselves in a bad situation, fine, can’t go back on that. However after that the way they went about trying to get Lando to swap back was beyond embarrassing. They were trying to convince him to swap, saying “at your earliest convenience” “I’m sure you’ll do the right thing”. Why were they doing this? Telling him things that were open to interpretation. When what they should have done as soon as Oscar came out of the pits was say “On turn 2 swap with Oscar” just give a direct order that didn't leave any questions about what to do or when. Because then Lando has a direct order he can point to for why he gave the position back. Doing this whole performance on the radio was so unnecessary and I think made things more difficult for both drivers. 

Why did they let it go 20 laps before they gave a direct order? 

The whole situation was horrendously mishandled on all fronts. 

I don’t blame both drivers for being seriously frustrated with how things were handled. Because this race and its issues were not new. The only thing new about it was the fact that Oscar and Lando were both at the front. The team has been terrible at coordinating strategy with their drivers, figuring out how long to stay out at the front etc. It all came to a head in Hungary, but none of this was new. 

Mclaren have been saying all year that they are “learning” from their strategy mistakes. Well if this race is a result of what they’ve learned, then they need to start over because clearly they are not moving in the right direction.

They got the 1-2 in spite of the team, not because of it. 

Data Analysis

So now let's examine the full race between these two drivers. Was Oscar actually fastest? Could Lando have caught him in that final stint if he'd swapped back sooner?

Here is their full race pace. The thing to note is that they were tied on pace in the first stint. It really came down to track position there, and Lando losing the places. On the hards Oscar was getting better performance early on and fell off slightly near the end. The final stint is where there isn't anyone who is clearly fastest. I think that the pace for both can be explained by how the final laps were managed. Since Lando took so long to make the swap I do think Oscar pushed harder than he would have because he was trying to keep that gap close or to even work on closing it. And Lando was also pushing hard one lap, then falling off the next. He was clearly trying to push to show he was faster, but his pace and management was not as good at the gap suggested. The laps he was putting in were not sustainable.

I want to look highlight a few sections of the stints because these two were so close.

Stint 1 Oscar was faster more often than not. It was close but he was faster. This was probably in part due to the fact he had clean air, which is why taking that position in lap 1 was so important. And also why it was so costly for Lando.

Stint 2 they are close, once again Oscar having the edge. The one slower lap from Oscar was when he lost grip and went wide but recovered it.

Stint 3 is there you can see that Lando was not clearly faster. And can see the kind of ping pong behavior he set. Oscar was slightly slower, but not enough that he would have lost the lead if he'd had his rightful track position. And if this was Lando's best pace in clean air no less he was not going to catch Oscar. Which is why I believe he didn't want to give the place back, because while he would have had the option to fight Oscar for the win on merit if he swapped right away, with this pace he wasn't going to be able to do it.

Final thoughts on Mclaren: this team is proving that it takes more than the fastest car to be championship contenders. Their rivals are wary but not scared because while the car is there, the drivers are getting there, the team most certainly isn't. Not unless they drastically change their approaches on multiple fronts.

That's all I got. Onto Spa!

[applegreenrunnerbean]

Look, as a Max fan, do I think that move was borderline, opportunistic, dodgy even? Yes. Do I still think it was brilliant? Yes. Are these two things connected? Yes!

Here's off the top of my head some ways things could have gone after Max committed to going so wide:

- Lando doesn't react quickly enough. They crash. 0pts for everyone. We get a protracted discussion over who was at fault, but it is declared a racing incident.

- The above, but Max is found at fault and incurs a penalty for the next race.

- Lando doesn't go for the bait and doesn't overtake there, but gets Max on the next corner.

- Lando doesn't go for the bait and instead bides his time and gets Max a couple of laps later. By this point Max's tires are so worn and they've used so much time that Oscar is also able to catch and overtake Max.

- Lando overtakes, but immediately gives the position back. Max manages to somehow miraculously defend until the end of the race.

- Lando overtakes, but immediately gives the position back, and gets Max a couple of corners later.

- Lando overtakes, but immediately gives the position back. He bides his time and gets Max a couple of laps later.

- The same, plus Oscar overtakes Max too.

- The same, plus McLaren gets on to the stewards about Max forcing Lando off. Max gets a penalty so Oscar doesn't even need to overtake.

- Lando overtakes, and, anticipating the penalty, McLaren tells Lando to push. Lando puts 5 seconds between him and Max, negating the penalty.

- Lando overtakes, but the stewards say that although Lando overtook outside the limits, Max forced him off. It's declared a racing incident. Red Bull are infuriated.

- etc, etc

There's no point thinking about the what-ifs, but my point is: that move was a big risk on Max's part. Did he think through all these possible consequences and their likelihoods when he made the move? No, but he was still probably aware that what he was about to do would be controversial at the least.

And he could have easily not made the move! Lando had more pace and better tires - the chances are he would have been able to overtake at some point before the end of the race. Max could have, after having had his fun for a few laps, let Lando past and then concentrated on maintaining his tires so as to not let Oscar past too. It would have only been a 1pt gain for Lando, after all.

But of course he was never going to do that, because he's Max fucking Verstappen - and this is the first time in months he's felt like he's had the car to actually be able to put up something of a fight. Of course he's going to force the issue. Of course he's going to pull out his bag of tricks and make use of the grey areas in the rules. Of course he's going to use the fact that Lando's attack has been primarily reactive rather than aggressive.

And yes, it was questionable; yes, it was outside the spirit of the rules if not the letter. That's why I loved it, and that's why I love Max.

[f1-birb]

The fact that lando’s only mistake is not even is fault. That he’s taking the blame. That is teammates who did many mistakes. Said mistakes allowed the undercut to happen in the first place but he’s not even owning up to them…

But what would he when mclaren are more than happy to let lando takes all the blame right ?

Lando didn't make a mistake, even the ones people are trying to say are his

under the cut cuz it's long and I'm annoyed

his reaction at the start was 0.26, Oscar's was 0.24 - only a 0.02 difference in reaction time. we know Lando's second phase also is usually his issue, but we have it confirmed that this time it was a result of a shift issue that Rosberg clocked immediately btw but McLaren took days to publicly mention

he was then sandwiched between Max and Oscar and had to make a call as to avoid colliding with either of them, and Max then went wide and took 7 laps (between Lando's insistence and Red Bull's advice) to give the place back

he was then told constantly to manage his pace and tyres when he didn't need to, after Oscar's mistake and trip through gravel he closed the gap from over 4 seconds to around 1.5 at which point he was told "you can race the papaya car but remember, mid 40's" except that "being allowed to race" was still his pace being managed despite the fact he could've pushed especially as they were planning to pit not too far off

THEN he was called in to cover off Lewis almost immediately after we hear Oscar get told they're NOT pitting him because it's "too early" to cover off Lewis, ultimately undercutting Oscar - do McLaren TELL Lando when they're pitting him that "btw we're gonna need to give Oscar the place back cuz we accidentally undercut him"??? NO. THEY DON'T.

they pit Oscar 2 laps later, who then takes another trip through the gravel on his brand new medium tyres, and tell Lando to let him by "at his convenience" and tell Oscar "once you catch up to Lando, but we don't want him to lose too much time"

Oscar then seems to lose his pace and his need for tyre management goes up and the gap grows and grows and then the emotional manipulation, guilt tripping and gaslighting begins, as well as blatant dismissal of Lando's very valid arguments:

- if you wanted him ahead you should've pitted him first

- tell him to catch up please

- "it doesn't really matter" - to me it does, maybe

Lando then is told that Oscar can't catch up and he's proved his point and McLaren look like clowns as he all but has to pull over to let the 6 second gap disappear and Oscar pull in front and then he's not allowed to race even if he wanted to but as he said on the radio "you don't have to say anything"

imo the second Oscar went through the gravel it was unfair for McLaren to honour whatever agreement they had pre-race, at that point it should've been faster driver wins

[landhoe-norris]

Can we talk about Lando Norris?

This man had one of the best weekends of his career, and yet there are still people who wish nothing but harm upon him.

He came into the weekend expecting the worst and got sprint pole in the rain. People seem to have something twisted, and that is that Lando Norris is one of the best wet-weather drivers on that grid. They take Sochi 2021 and point and laugh at it, calling him stupid, heard-headed, cocky, and full of himself without knowing the fact of that race. Without knowing how McLaren never told him that the weather was changing, never ordered him to come in to change their tyres and acted like this man had some sixth sense weather forecast ingrained into his brain. Put any 21-year-old in an F1 car, and withhold information from him and he'll make the same choice.

Lando has proven himself over and over again when it comes to his race craft. He rarely makes mistakes, which makes it even more infuriating when the few times he's actually made errors in judgment, he is ridiculed and admonished beyond proportion, and it's ridiculous how the media and certain segments of the F1 fandom react to these moments.

Every driver on the grid has faced challenging situations, yet it seems that some are more forgiving when other drivers slip up, and they aren't mentioned during every race weekend, even 3-4 years later. Most of the time, I'm pretty sure it's jealousy. He outraced Daniel during their two years together, even though everyone thought Daniel would bury him, and his fans just can't deal with it - even though they haven't been teammates for almost two years.

According to a loud portion of the fandom, this was the year that would show Lando for who he really is, and Oscar was supposed to pummel him from the start, but all we've seen is that Oscar desperately needs to get a handle on his tyre management and that Lando's race pace is light years ahead of Oscar's.

Did Lando have a pretty shit start at yesterday's sprint? Sure.

Was the criticism and hate that he got from people on social media in any way proportinate to how the sprint went for him? FUCK NO.

Did he have his little redemption arc by getting P4 in quali and consistently expanding the gap between him and the freaking Red Bull in P3, while holding onto P2? Yeah, sure, but redemption arc or not, that's what he does. It's what he's capable of.

He's not some driver who lucked onto the podium today.

He's Lando Norris, an F1 driver who would have 5-6 wins already if he wasn't competing against one of the best drivers ever in one of the best cars ever.

Ask any former F1 driver, Rosberg, Button, Montoya, Hakkinen, or Barrichello, what they think of Lando Norris, and they'll tell you that not only is he WDC material, but that he will win the title one day.

And I'll be here when that happens.