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mv1simp · 10 days ago

Text

requested: max + best friend + somnophilia + cum marking

Unforgettable ♥️

Max Verstappen x Best Friend!Reader

if you loved the girl then I’m so so sorry (i got to give it to her like we in a marriage)

You and Max grew up as childhood best friends, secretly enamoured with each other but prohibited to openly date by both your strict fathers. But as adults, there’s nothing to stop the naughty desires you two have for each other finally leading to pleasure activities. You just had no idea how naughty your Max’s desires for you had become as of late…

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, dom! Dark max, sub! Innocent reader, size kink, dub con/non con elements, brief mentions of some teen max x reader being kinky, but mostly as adults, HEAVY on the somno!!, cum play/cum marking, WC 4.2k

You’ve known Max Verstappen your whole life. First as his childhood best friend, meeting through your fathers who both had a keen interest in racing. The young Max immediately became enamoured with how cute you looked grasping onto his sleeve to loyally follow him everywhere. He welcomed your constant support and cheering, a comfort to the cold discipline his own father gave him daily. You were the one source of happiness and positivity for him, with your sunshine smile and blushing cheeks as you oohed and ahhed at his track performance.

Your friendship continued easily through your teens, and then into adulthood, with you naturally moving to Monaco at his invitation. Just like you’d always done - with Max leading, and you obediently following. Of course, for a boy and a girl to be as close friends as the two of you were led to more than a few eyebrows being raised and curious questions asked, especially when Max’s career skyrocketed and he became one of the most famous athletes worldwide. But you both swear multiple times to your family, friends and the media - nothing of the romantic sort happened between the two of you, it was all completely platonic, just a healthy friendship. And that was the truth, because Max’s father had forbidden him from getting entangled with the little girl following him around as he had a racing career to focus on, and after that countless models to date - much more fitting for an F1 driver than some shy, girl next door type. And your strict, conservative father had raised you traditionally, sending you to an all girl’s high school and banning any boyfriends or dates of any sort. Max was in fact the only boy you were allowed to speak to, given how close your fathers were. But you weren’t to think about any boys until it was time to get married, your father had told you sternly. There’s too many bad men that would hurt my baby girl, he added with a ruffle of your dark curls.

Your father would have had a heart attack if he’d known that the teenage Max had already begun sneaking into your bedroom window nightly once you’d been sent to a different school than him. You’d found it so sweet that he misses you so much, saying that it wasn’t enough time to just see you on the weekends. Soon enough he’d end up falling asleep in your bed after you spent hours talking and reading racing magazines together, just like the sleepovers you two would occasionally have as toddlers when the adults had too much to drink.

You loved that Max would always be there for you, especially when you started having a hard time at your new school with a group of mean older girls. Max’s normally soft blue eyes had narrowed as you sadly mentioned how they’d made fun of you. He wiped the tears away at the corner of your eyes and assured you he’d help take care of it. You weren’t sure exactly what he’d done the next day when the group of girls all avoided eye contact and apologised to you publically, telling you they didn’t realise you were the girlfriend of Max Verstappen - who by now, was a international karting champion and set to join the junior Redbull team at only 16.

You’d blushed, trying to dismiss their belief of you being Max’s girlfriend that had started to become a frequent rumour these days. While it was true you’d always had a crush on the handsome blonde Dutchman, he’d never once shown you that he reciprocated your feelings, always just being a good friend to you. Like that evening when he jumped through your windowsill with familiar movements, waving off your grateful thanks and telling you it’s what best friends did for each other. Besides, you’re so tiny and cute, just like a bunny, it’s my job to look after you if I’m called the lion! He declared, alluding to your individual favourite childhood animals. Later, he curiously asked what the girls had actually teased you about, saying he’d forgotten to ask because he had been too angry with them. You blush a little, because you’re not sure if it’s too embarrassing to tell him as it’s a girl thing, Maxie…

He encourages you to tell him, insisting there were no secrets between the two of you, who’d practically known each other since birth. You couldn’t argue with that, and shyly tell him that it was because the older girls had seen you changing for sports class last week and had said you must have gotten a good surgeon with boobs like that. I-I don’t know what they mean, Maxie, you said with an anxious bite of your lip. Do they look weird?

Oh, Max had said, caught off guard, pretty blue eyes suddenly wide as they automatically drifted down to your clothed chest. Even through the pink camisole you’re wearing to bed, it’s hard to miss the way your new assets stretched the thin material to its limits. I’m sure they look nice, bunny. But I - his cheeks go pink - I can look at them properly if you want?

Your brown doe eyes go starry eyed and you nod happily at his offer. Will you, Maxie? Thank you so much! It’s so kind of you. Beaming up at your friend, you thank him again for his thoughtful offer as you lift the singlet above your breasts. You don’t really have any other friends to show them too, because you spend all your spare time with the Dutch boy, and your mother is also too strict like your father to talk about your teenage troubles with. You’d be lost without Max!

The blonde teen in question swallows as he intently looks at your bare chest, now exposed for him. The night breeze stiffens your nipples, making them stick out against your caramel skin. They’re very pretty, schatje, he finally says, his voice sounding a strange and deeper than normal, after he stares at them so long you start to get worried that there had been something wrong, after all. You tell him this, to which he reassures you soothingly, but you’re still on edge. What if my future boyfriend doesn’t like them, Maxie? Your best friend’s eyes darken suddenly at the mention of some other boy seeing your body in a way only he had been allowed to so far. You're a little taken aback at the unfamiliar, cold expression on his normally warm face, but then you blink and he's back to his blushing self, eagerly showering you with his reassurances because he never wants you to doubt how perfect he thinks you are.

So that’s why, now as adults living in his Monaco penthouse, Max makes it his personal mission to make sure you know how beautiful you are. Your conservative parents have no idea that you live together, of course - they still think you live in the quaint 1 bedroom apartment a few minutes away from your university campus. But your modest apartment had mysteriously been shut down by the Housing Council of Monaco, who’d told you there had been a termite infestation and you were indefinitely out of a place to live. You’d been puzzled why your apartment was the only one on your floor that seemed to be affected by something so contagious - but when Max generously offered to ease all your financial troubles and let you crash in his guest bedroom, you gratefully accepted. You’d never told your strict parents about the move, of course, since it was only meant to be temporary and they’d kick up a fuss over nothing.

You were so thankful to your best friend, and made sure to always clean up around the house and bake his favourite treats to repay him in some way. Max’s favourite way to destress after a long day is to cuddle against you on the sofa, burying his face in your pillowy, soft chest as you giggle and run a comforting hand through his blonde locks. He complains about drama with his team and car this season, husky voice muffled against your clothed breasts. The low vibrations would make you involuntarily shiver and he’d always know when you were wearing a bra, because he wouldn’t be able to see your tempting nipples through your top. Schatje, he’d say sternly with a disapproving glare, yanking your pastel cardigan up and revealing a cute, lacy bralette. We talked about this, it restricts your circulation, it’s not healthy to wear a bra at home too, hmm? You apologise sweetly, pouting and telling him that you were sorry, it was just you’d had to wear one for your university tutorial earlier and sometimes your back really starts hurting if your bra isn’t supporting the weight of your chest…

Hmm, let’s see how we can fix that, okay bunny? He lifts you to sit in his lap, your back to his toned abs, and your underwear coming into direct contact with his jeans underneath your miniskirt. Sliding his large, strong hands over your smaller waist, he makes you gasp as he unclasps your bra and starts gently squeezing your bare breasts. The soft flesh fills his palms, and you shyly ask him what he was doing, he didn't have to trouble himself helping you. When he shushes you, reassuring you that he was just massaging the tension and pain out of your tits, see, doesn’t that feel good schat? You find yourself nodding, leaning back against his broad chest because and biting your lip because it did feel amazing. You didn’t know that being touched there would make you feel dirty things someplace else, like in the place between your legs that begins to feel warm and tingly. Especially when Max would roll your nipples in between his large fingers, or when he’d press his tongue in between your bare tits and lick at your caramel skin. You couldn’t resist arching your back into his talented mouth when he latched onto your areolas, unable to control the breathless moans that escaped. You were seriously so lucky to have a friend who took your comfort and health so seriously!

Of course, you were clueless that Max had taken the boundaries well beyond what would be considered acceptable for any other friendship. You still barely had any friends outside of Max - especially since your friendship with him kept you so busy, flying around the world with him constantly. But everything you two did felt so natural, like a progression of how you’d looked after each other other as kids, that you never felt weird or uncomfortable. You only ever felt good with Maxie. That was also why you’d always call him first when you were on a night out and had gotten a bit too tipsy - you didn’t trust anyone else to look after you. Max had warned you, just like your father had, about all the bad men who were out and would hurt you. He very rarely let you go out without him for this very reason.

But when you would, for a girlfriend’s birthday dinner or the other, he’d be the one to drive you home and carry you up to the apartment. He’d smirk at your drunk antics, where you’d whine it was too damn hot and start sloppily tearing off your cute, sweetheart minidresses. He loved when you got like this, obediently crawling into bed with him in scraps of lace, when normally sober you put up a fuss that only a couple slept like that, it was wrong, his girlfriend wouldn’t like this! Pulling your pliant form into his warm chest, he’s pressing kisses to your forehead before sliding his tongue into your open, pink mouth. You kiss him back passionately, breathlessly chanting his name, contently lost in how nice his lips feel. You loved the familiar feeling of Max’s arms around you, always making you feel safe and protected. And when his large, strong palms run up and down your sensitive body, sending electric shivers running when his bare skin touches yours, you can’t help but moan sweetly into his mouth. Mmmhh, feels good, Maxie you slur, eyes fluttering shut and thick ass grinding back against his clothed bulge, before you fall asleep from his slow, rhythmic movements as he explores your tired body.

Secretly, not that you’d ever admit it, you knew there was something a little naughty with the way he touched you. You’d watched enviously through cracked doors when he’d touched his girlfriends in the same way, hating when his attention was on some other girl and not on you. But you could never ask him sober to take care of you like that, not when you were sure he thought of you like a friend. So you frequently started to get a bit too tipsy out on a night out, knowing it was much easier to cross the line of friendship into something more when you could blame it all on the tequila. And your Maxie would never turn down a chance to reciprocate your touchiness - his love language was physical touch, after all!

You had no idea that after you'd fall asleep, your precious Maxie’s fun really began, every night that he managed to bring you into his Californian King. If you hadn’t been so naive you would know it was far from normal for a guy friend to climb into bed with his drunk girl friend, who was wearing nothing but some white lacy lingerie underneath her clubbing dress that's abandoned on the floor. Lingerie which he now pulls to the side as he squeezes your juicy tits and lightly fingers the entrance of your pussy. His dark, hungry gaze rake over your tempting form, taking in your curves that have now filled out. He lazily jerks himself off to the pretty little thing passed out in his bed, peppering kisses to your chubby cheeks, your delicate neck, and to your plush breasts which bounce with each sleepy breath you take.

And once your breaths turn heavy and slow when deep sleep claims you, there’s nothing stopping him from slipping his angry, leaking cockhead out and sliding it along your puffy folds. You unknowingly drip your wetness all over his shaft as he groans into your ear, his breath warm as he pants desperately above your peacefully sleeping face. Sometimes he can’t resist and slips just the tip into your tight little hole, the one you still thought was untouched by anyone.

You’d probably die if you knew the truth - that your cunt had in fact been abused many times by your best friend. Max regularly enjoyed teasing your puffy slit with his fingers, his tongue and of course his cockhead- all while you lay blissfully sleeping next to him. He’d take any chance he could, no matter how risky. One time you’d passed out on Max’s lap aboard his private jet, exhausted from the day at a boiling hot Qatar race. He’d stroked your curls lovingly, murmuring sweet nothings to you until you were in a deep sleep on his thick muscular thighs, even drooling a little onto his jeans. All he’d had to do was dim the cabin lights and half cover your face with a blanket under the guise of not disturbing you if anyone walked past.

Nobody would have been able to guess that underneath the privacy of the blanket, Max Verstappen was slowly sliding his aching, fat cock into your wet mouth. You’d instinctively started suckling on it like a lollipop, making him chuckle at what a natural slut you were for him. Grabbing a hold of your curls, he’d easily manoeuvred your soft, pliant lips up and down his shaft, enjoying the drool you left all over his warm length. Breathing heavier, his movements quickened and his thrusts became shallower until he finally goes still, tensing in your mouth and spurting ribbons of his cream down your throat. You’d slept straight through the dinner service, after all. Afterwards, you’d woken up with sticky lips and an unfamiliar taste on your tongue, dazedly blinking up at Max who was playing on his phone above your sleeping figure on his lap. Good nap, schatje? he croons adoringly at you, brushing your hair lovingly when he sees you’d awakened. You’d nodded happily, feeling content and secure in his hold.

Lately, sneaking around while you were asleep hadn’t been enough for the world champion. He wanted you all to himself, all the time. His new tactic involved making sure you knew that his latest girlfriend - or his model "pump and dump of the month" as his guy friends joked - had broken up with him. All because she’d heard you had climbed into bed with him naked, tipsy after a night out, Max would declare to your with a dramatic sigh. Or she’d found your lacy underwear mixed in with Max’s laundry, and had accused him of cheating before storming out. He wondered what his exes would have done if they found out the lacy things he’d had lying around were actually due to his dirty habit as a teen of stealing your underwear to sniff and guiltily keep in his stash. It was a twisted desire he hadn’t grown out of as an adult, instead just finding your new panties sexier and enjoying ruining them with his cum now. Some nights, when he was feeling particularly possessive of you, he’d pull one lacy side up to slide his length underneath, now rubbing his drooling cockhead against the juicy swell of your ass. One night he’d even just slipped your panties all the way off, jerked off slowly to them as his other hand explored your pliant body greedily, making you gasp breathlessly when he buried his face in between your jiggling tits and gently bit your cute nipples. After cumming a thick load into the pink lacey fabric, he then slid the ruined panties back over your curvy ass. You’d remained completely clueless to your best friend’s filthy nighttime acts in your bed, blissfully dreaming.

So after telling you that you must have left your panties in his bed the last time you passed out there drunk, and made his girlfriend angry, Max would sigh, rubbing his head and making sure to out on a grand show of looking tired and weary as he fed you some new lie about how you were the reason his girlfriends had called it quits.

You’d anxiously comfort him, your doe eyes worried as you studied his tense figure. Just like he’d hoped, you couldn’t resist offering to help him in any way he needed - including taking over any bedroom activities his girlfriends had been performing for him, if he wanted. You weren’t very good, because you still had never had a boyfriend…but you promised to try your best to do it just how Max liked it. After all, that’s what good friends were for, right?

So that’s why you obediently wake him up every morning with your lips on his heavy morning wood. All of his girlfriends woke him up like this, Max insisted, otherwise his balls would be too full for him to go to driving practise comfortably. And since he loved to sleep in late ever day, you had no choice but to miss your morning lectures. Instead of getting the college education you’d promised your parents, you’re worshipping your best friend’s large cock with eager strokes of your hand and wet licks of your tongue, following his instructions. You hadn’t liked going near the base, to his heavy balls at the start, finding them uncomfortable to fit in your small mouth. Max had noticed your dislike for then very quickly and soon kept a strong grip on your curls, pressing your thick lips into his morning wood to make sure you blew him just how he wanted it.

After your daily breakfast of Max’s thick cream down your throat, you two would shower together, just like he liked doing with all his ex girlfriends. This part you did know about, having come home early one day and overhearing Max fucking his latest up against the shower wall. You’d never imagine that one day you’d be getting to replace her, gasping out ah ah ahs! as Max rubbed his drooling, angry cockhead against your slick folds. You bite your lip as you dirtily fantasise about your tall, muscular best friend behind you forcing his way into your cunny. Just a little bit, of course, maybe just the tip, you dreamily thought.

Max had always been good at knowing what you wanted without you asking, given how long he'd known you. So he gives you exactly what you'd been naughtily thinking about, "accidentally" sliding his impossibly hard head into your dripping folds when he reached forward to adjust the already perfect water temperature. You squeal in shock, quickly trying to turn around and see what he was doing, but you're no match for his strength. Max's strong hands pin your thick hips in place as his much taller frame presses into you from behind, his lips brushing your ear to whisper dirty things and making your brain go foggy. Hearing your beloved Maxie huskily groan that your ass felt amazing, like it was built to take my cock, bunny made your heart beat rapidly in excitement. You didn't even notice that he'd bullied a good third of his massive erection into your clenching pussy, or when he came with a desperate groan, his face buried in your neck from behind. The warm shower water mixed with his creamy release and leaving you none the wiser about what he'd just pumped inside your virgin hole.

And little, naive you had no idea just how many times your possessive best friend had exposed your defenceless body to his thick cream. The twisted idea of training your holes to always welcome his, and only his cum, filled Max’s head with dark pleasure. He wanted to leave you begging and desperate for his release, even though you would have no idea just how or why you’d ended up developing such a craving for it. That was why he always made sure to touch and play with your over sensitive body, especially your cute, swollen clit and pretty nipples. Both because he loved feeling you up like you belonged to him, and because when he’d inevitably spurt his cum through your drooling, open mouth as you softly snore against his pillows. Your sleepy brain began to subconsciously associate the unfamiliar taste with delicious, tingly pleasure.

And if you’d make him mad when you spent too long talking to one of the other guys in his garage, instead of diligently at his side, he took his training of you to the next level. That meant cumming all over a batch of freshly baked and frosted white chocolate and rasberry cupcakes - your favourite! You always clapped your manicured hands in excitement when Max would pick up a box for you. They taste so good, you moaned as you eagerly dug into a second one, licking the white sticky frosting messily off your fingers. Even better than I remember!

The blonde Dutchman who’s eyeing you with a pleased smirk couldn’t stop the growing desire in his belly at the sight of you taking so much pleasure at eating his cum. So once he started this dirty habit of feeding you his release, he didn’t stop there - he was never one for half measures. He’d only have to close his eyes and picture your sleeping body, thin camisole mentally pulled up by his wandering hands to reveal your large tits. It’s a sight he’s been getting to enjoy almost nightly now, but it hasn’t stopped getting any less tempting. He easily spurts a generous load in a container of your favourite flavours of creamy vanilla ice cream. Slipping the box back into the freezer, he smirks to himself at the thought of getting to enjoy the sight of you licking it up off a spoon after dinner.

You've always had a major sweet tooth, and now that Max has started mixing his cum into your beloved desserts and sugary treats, you begin to associate his heady taste even more with raw desire. You start getting the same pleasurable high from deepthroating him as you do sucking on a strawberry lollipop. And your best friend just can't get enough of how addicted you've become to having his intoxicating, thick cum flood your mouth. So much so that you’re eager to fall to your knees to greet Max when you come home from class, obediently sucking his impressive cock as you show off your topless figure. And when you can tell he’s close, from how his handsome face is all flushed and he’s biting his pretty lips and murmuring fuck, schatje, it’s so fucking good, just like that-

You open your glossy lips wide, pink tongue poking out and brown doe eyes batting up at the huge cock in front of you adoringly. The sight of you so innocent yet desperate for him never fails to make Max cum, and with a few rapid pumps he finishes with a groan. His drooling, swollen cockhead is aimed right at your eagerly awaiting mouth, and soon his excessive load covers your tongue and drools past the corner of your lips as you struggle to contain it all in your small mouth. Splatters of white semen land on your chubby cheeks and drip down to your plush, caramel tits as well.

Just the taste of it has your eyes rolling and breath hitching, the months of subconscious training having done the job of making you addicted to Max’s cock very well. You swallow it all like the good girl you are, not letting any of his cum go to waste. And when you drop your mouth open again invitingly, shyly saying look Maxie, I drank it all as you display your now clean tongue - well, how is he meant to resist stuffing your tight little cunt next?

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A/N: CANNOT BELIEVE OUR MANS WON BRAZIL WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT FOR THE LATINA FANS ya’ll manifested the FUCK out of this. I have heard you all with your celebration sex requests and I am HERE for it stay tuned!!! 🧙‍♀️🧙‍♀️

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #max verstappen x you #18+ mdni #dark max verstappen #dark smut

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no-144444 · 3 months ago

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my girl- (o.piastri no.81)

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summary: fans made an edit of oscar and you being in love since your prema days.

pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! driver! reader (no.28)

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Oscar Piastri being in love with Y/n Y/l/n for 15 minutes straight, and vice versa (F2 -> F1)

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Clip 1: Prema video

Bahrain Airport, F2 season beginning, March.

“And here we have the 3 year reigning champion of the Indycar Junior series, making her F2 pivot, Y/n Y/l/n!” Rob cheered as he woke you from your nap on the plane.

“Shut up,” you groaned, pushing the camera away with a chuckle. “I'm tired, leave me be.”

“The plane is landing, idiot!”

“Hush!” you laughed. “That means ages until we get off, get your camera away Rob!”

Rob and you had gotten the same flight from London, and you’d become fast friends. He was eccentric and overtop, but a good laugh. You were sure you looked crazy. 6 hour flights do that to a person. You and Rob chatted to the camera about the weekend, and you introduced yourself to the Prema fans. Not many people gave a shit about Indycar, and even less cared about Indycar junior.

As you disembarked the plane and got through security, people stopped you and Rob for photos and whatnot, then you finally got out of the airport. Angelina was standing there with a camera and a big ‘welcome’ sign, and another two very tired teenage boys beside her.

“Y/n!” she cheered, pulling you both into a hug. “Rob!”

Little did you know, Rob’s camera was pointed at Oscar, who turned to Fred with a shocked expression and whispered: “She’s gorgeous.”

Beside him, Fred chuckled. “Go for her.”

“No way I have any chance with her, I-”

“I can hear you, y’know?” you cut in, coming over to introduce yourself.

He went redder than a tomato, and you all just laughed.

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Clip 2: Sky Sports channel

Bahrain International Circuit, 27th of March

“And it’s No. 28 who sees the chequered flag first, the rookie, and the only girl on the grid, Y/n Y/l/n! Pole position in her first race!”

“That’s P1 Y/n, congratulations,” your race engineer, Pedro, beamed as you crossed the finish line.

“Motherfuck Guanyu is fast mate, we need to watch out for him- oh, and the other Alpine boy that was trying to flirt with me, what’s his name?” you answered. The Prema garage was full of laughter as you outed Oscar.

“Oscar Piastri? No.2,” Pedro chuckled. “He failed to flirt with you?”

“Well, bless him, he tried to,” you chuckled as you parked the car. “He’s cute though.”

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“That’s P6 Oscar, and just to let you know, Y/n Y/l/n has outed you on the radio and on live television saying that you tried and failed to flirt with her,” his race engineer said.

Oscar laughed, finding the situation funny. “My mum’s going to tweet about that.”

“She also called you ‘cute’, if that helps with any bruised ego?”

Oscar’s face lit up under his helmet. “It definitely does,” he chuckled. “Thanks mate.”

“I’d wingman you any time,” he chuckled.

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Clip 3: Prema video

Prema Headquarters, Grisignano di Zocco, Italy, April.

“Hello everyone,” Robert smiled at the camera. “Today we will be going for a drive, I’d better call Oscar in.”

Oscar sat in the passenger seat and did his belt as they caught up and told the viewers what they’d be watching.

“So, today, you will be joining us for a drive around the Italian countryside,” Rob smiled. “And we will be answering your questions.”

“Let the questions begin,” Oscar added. He pulled one out of the bowl and read it aloud. “Who’s your favourite Prema team member?”

Rob smiled. “That’s hard, I love the whole Prema team so much, but… yeah, that’s hard. Maybe my race engineer, Fred? I get along quite well with him,” Rob giggled as Oscar nodded.

“What?” Oscar laughed.

“I know your favourite,” Rob smirked.

Oscar looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Who?”

“La tua ragazza,” Rob chuckled as Oscar rolled his eyes. “What? It is true! You love her!” (La tua ragazza = your girl in Italian)

“I’ve met her once, mate!” Oscar laughed.

“So you don’t like her? I can ask her out?” Rob deadpanned.

“Well, no, you can't-” Oscar was cut off by Rob’s laughter and he decided to stop trying to fight him about it. Everyone on the team knew that Oscar Piastri was infatuated with you.

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Clip 4: Georgie O’Hara’s deleted youtube video.

Haileybury and Imperial Service College, England.

“Ok, that’s an awful idea!” Oscar yelled over his friends. “They already know you’re the ones doing it!”

“It’s fine! It’ll be fine!” Elijah, a good friend of his, smiled. They wanted to set off the fire alarms again, for the third time that week. Deodorant and stupid teenage boys did not mix, especially when they refused to put it on themselves and waste it on fire drills instead.

Georgie turned to his phone, addressing the viewers "Oscar's a goody-two-shoes, if you couldn't tell."

Suddenly his phone rang from an unknown number, and before he could leave it ring, Anthony (another friend of his) answered. “Oscar Piastri, incoming F2 champion’s phone, how may I help you?”

Oscar laughed, but suddenly stopped when he heard you.

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” you chuckled at his friend. “Anyways, can you just ask him to ask Elijah not to do the fire alarm thing between 11pm and 2am? The girls in my room and I are sneaking downstairs to watch a film and we don’t really want to get caught.”

Oscar covered his face and groaned, then took the phone off Georgie. “Hey-hi, Y/n. Yes, of course, we won’t do the fire alarm thing, ever again. Sorry.”

He turned his back as his friends made kissing noises and certain gestures at him.

“All good, thanks Osc,” you smiled. “You and your friends are welcome to join us if you want.”

Oscar could’ve sworn his heart stopped beating. “I’ll ask them,” he smiled. He turned to his friends. “Y/n’s inviting us all to a movie, we’re sneaking out tonight,” he informed them.

“I don’t want to-” Anthony started, but Georgie silenced him with a kick to the shin.

“Mate, this is Oscar’s one fucking chance with his girl, shut up,” He scoffed.

“Is that a yes?” You asked over the phone.

“Yes!” they all answered.

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As the night went on, you found yourself getting more and more tired. Oscar was beside you and you could tell how he was trying to play it cool, but failing miserably. You could practically see the way his heart leapt out of his chest when you held his hand. As ‘The Empire Strikes Back’ ended, you squeezed his hand before getting up and letting go.

“Alright, I’ll clean up, everyone else go back upstairs before you get caught,” you whispered. The ‘movie room’ as the students called it (it was technically the staff room but no one really cared) was a mess. Blankets, cups, wrappers and pillows were everywhere. The group slowly shuffled out as you were left with only Oscar. Georgie had forgotten about his camera and it was still recording where he’d put it down to get some shots of everyone watching the film.

“I can help,” Oscar whispered.

You shook your head. “Seriously, you go ahead. They already hate me at this school anyways,” you chuckled.

“Please let me help?” he asked again. You couldn’t exactly say ‘no’ to his puppy dog eyes, could you?

“Fine,” you smiled.

You two chatted quietly as you cleaned up the room, and finally met at the door to leave.

“I really enjoyed tonight-” You started, but you were cut off by Oscar kissing you. His arms wrapped around your waist and your arms wrapped around his neck once the initial shock wore off. You both pulled away after a few seconds. You stared up at him as his usually-blank face turned to one of panic.

“Sorry if that was forward, or-or weird- or-” He started, but now it was your turn to cut him off with a kiss.

He pulled back smiling, and he didn’t move his hands, or try to move away from you. There was a moment of silence. “Can I take you on a date?”

You chuckled. “Yes.”

Oscar was elated.

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Clip 5: Sky sports channel and Prema footage

Circuit de Monaco, Monaco, Monaco, May 22nd.

You were excited as you stepped onto the podium, victorious. It had been a difficult few laps at the end, Guanyu overtaking, then you overtaking, and over and over, but you got the chequered flag first. You were breaking records, breaking barriers as a woman in motorsports. You’d won Monaco, your first time racing there. In the Sprint, and the feature race. You were on top of the world. As you raised your trophy, the crowd cheered and Oscar was cheering the loudest.

You looked to your left, him standing on the podium for the first time this season, and you smiled.

“Feels good, huh?” you smirked.

“Feels great, but I’ll be coming for your step next,” he smirked.

“You wish Piastri,” you scoffed, then uncorked your champagne bottle and sprayed it on him and Zhou.

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Clip 6: Sky Sports channel, Prema footage

Autodromo Nazionale di Monza, Monza, 17th of July, Sprint Race.

“And it’s Y/n Y/l/n into the wall in a bad collision with Liam Lawson, only 2 laps till the end!”

Everything was in slow motion, one second you were in control, the next you were flipping into the wall.

“Red flag, red flag Oscar, huge crash in sector 3, come in, come in,” his race engineer said.

“Who was it?” He asked, slowing his pace.

“Y/l/n and Lawson, straight into the wall.”

“Is she ok? Is she out of the car?” he asked calmly.

“Not yet,” he answered grimly. The Prema garage was eerily silent as they watched the stewards struggle to get you out of the car.

As he came up on sector 3, he saw you. The car was upside down leaning against the barrier, they were putting out the fire. Shit. Shit. Shit.

You and Oscar had been dating for a few months now, and he really liked you. He passed by in horror as he saw that you weren’t out of the car yet. He was getting more and more nervous as the moments went on. He caught sight of Liam. He was out of the car. He beckoned Oscar over and he obliged, letting him hitch a ride back to the pitlane with him as he drove slowly. As they got back to the pitlane, they both jumped out as the race was finally deemed as cancelled, and the boys walked off, waiting for news.

“What happened?” he asked.

“It was a total mistake, my car had mad fucking oversteer and I just hit the throttle too hard, and then she was in the wall,” he answered. “She’s not even out yet.”

“She’ll be ok,” Oscar said, trying to convince himself as well as Liam. “She’s strong.”

Liam nodded, and went off to the RedBull garage with his head held low. Oscar walked into the Prema garage and his mom immediately pulled him in for a hug. Beside her was your parents, looking terrified.

“You’re ok, thank god,” she whispered. She didn’t care about the multiple cameras pointing at them, her son was alright.

“Is there any news yet?”

“They’ve pulled her out of the car,” your dad answered, eyes glued to the screen.

“Is she responsive?” Nicole asked.

“Yes!” You race engineer answered, happy that you were alive. There was a collective sigh of relief throughout the garage. “Complaining about lower back and leg pain, as well as a definite broken arm. She won’t be racing for a while,” he added, his tone becoming more and more sombre. Oscar watched as your mother broke down in your father’s arms, and he felt like throwing up. You wouldn’t be racing, you wouldn’t get to do the thing you loved.

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Clip 6: Prema video

ASST Brianza - Vimercate Hospital, 18th of July.

You woke up in blinding pain a few hours earlier. Everyone had worked so hard to make everything ok, to make you comfortable, but all night all you did was sob. The pain was unbearable in the car, you thought you were going to die, you thought you weren’t getting out of the car. 5 fractured vertebrae, 3 broken ribs, a fractured hip bone, and a broken arm apparently wasn’t a joke. No racing for the rest of the year. Your life was over.

“Fuck,” you whispered as you sat up and pain shot up your back.

“Hey,” Oscar’s soft voice brought you out of your upset, and back into the room. He took your hand. You felt bad, he’d been there the entire time, and honestly, he should probably be at the track already, ahead of today’s race. You’d tried to shoo him but he wasn’t having it, much more in favour of being with you and cluing you in on how your parents reacted to him being your boyfriend. Awkward. “Take your time.”

You nodded, grateful that he was there, then turned your attention to the camera Angelina had brought with her and set up to take a ‘statement’ video. “Hi Prema fans, and my fans. Yesterday was pretty rough, and with a heavy heart I have to tell you that I won’t be able to continue this season in F2. My back was badly damaged yesterday in my collision with Liam, which was a complete accident and not anyone's fault, and I definitely don’t blame Liam. I love racing, and I’ll still be at the majority of the races to support my teammates, and my boyfriend. This is just a very unfortunate event that pulls me out of the game for a while, but I’ll be back. I hope you miss me on track, and just know that I’m alright. Thank you for the support, bye for now, Prema family.”

Oscar wrapped his arms around you and smiled. “I’m the boyfriend,” he added, making you laugh.

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

Clip 7: Prema footage

Jeddah Corniche Circuit, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, 4th of December

“And Oscar Piastri sees the chequered flag first! Winning a sprint race and the feature race this weekend!”

You jumped up and down beside Chris, his father, as he came into the pitlane. He was the lead of the championship. He was going to win F2. No doubt about it.

The past 5 months had been difficult. You’d been back at school for a while, only now cleared to travel again, but you were happy to be back at the tracks. It felt good to watch Oscar win in person.

Chris wrapped his arms around you as you both celebrated. Oscar’s radio came on.

“God guys, good drive. Looks like Y/n is my lucky charm,” he laughed over the radio. The last races hadn’t gone so well for him, but he was straight back to winning with you here.

You were smiling the whole way to the barricade, but that ended when about 50 people were against your back, pushing violently. Chris and Mark were trying desperately to get them to back off, but they couldn’t stop them. You promised them you’d be ok, but the pain was getting unbearable, and Oscar hadn’t come over yet.

“Guys, move back!” He shouted as he ran over, just finished taking off his helmet. “Make some space!” The team obliged, but he still decided to be dramatic and lift you over the barrier. “You alright?” he asked, but you just wrapped your arms around him.

“You’re incredible Osc,” you smiled. “I love you so much.”

And there it was, out in the open for the first time. Too bad you forgot you both had microphones on.

He smiled wider than you ever thought possible for his face. “I love you too. So much baby,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You should be up here with me,” he added and you nodded, it still being a sore subject. “And you will be. Next year.”

You nodded, grateful for the hope and support he offered you. “Go! Go to your team!” you laughed, pushing him on. Before he let you out of his grasp, he grabbed your waist and stole a sweet, quick kiss.

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Clip 8: Prema footage

Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi, 12th of December

He’d done it. He was the F2 champion. Sadly next year he would only get to be the Alpine F1 reserve driver, which meant no consistent racing, but that was still incredible.

You waited by the barricade as he came in, and he went straight over to you. He pulled his helmet off, then his bandana, and pulled you in for a kiss. The rest of the team ‘ohh’ed and ‘aww’ed but neither of you cared at all. He’d won.

“Congratulations F2 winner,” you smirked, pulling away.

“Thanks baby,” he smiled.

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

Post-race interview

“So, how does this feel, Oscar?” she asked.

“It feels amazing, y’know, we’ve all worked so hard at this for the whole year and it’s just really special to have everyone here, especially my girlfriend Y/n. I’m missing her on track, so it’s good to still at least have her in the paddock,” he smiled, and the camera cut to you, beaming up at him.

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Clip 9: Prema footage and Sky Sports channel

Bahrain International Circuit, Sakhir, 19th of March, Sprint 1.

“We’re in the Prema garage,” Oscar explained to the camera in front of him. He was in full Alpine gear, being a reserve driver meant being a marketing machine, but this wasn’t for Alpine, this was for you. “And my girlfriend is about to go and do her first race back since the accident last season. Let’s go interview her about it!” He walked through the garage, searching for you, and finally found you. “Y/n! Any time for an interview?”

You turned to him and smiled. “I always have time for you,” you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close. His grip on you was tight but you didn’t mind. You pulled away and turned to the camera.

“So, how does it feel to be back?” He asked.

“Amazing. I thought my life was over when I was told I wasn’t allowed to race for half a year.”

“And who helped nurse you back to health?” He smirked, batting his eyelashes at you.

“Your mom mostly,” you chuckled. You’d spent the entire off-season in Australia with Oscar and his family, and Nicole had been so considerate and careful about your healing injuries.

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Yeah… that’s probably true,” he chuckled. “How do you feel being on Pole?”

“It feels good. We just have to stay quick this season. I didn’t rush my healing just to lose,” you smiled then pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve to get in the car now, love you,” you smiled. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed his lips to yours with a ‘good luck’, then let you go.

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

“And can she do it? Yes she can! Y/n Y/l/n is coming in with a bang! A Sprint Pole and a Sprint win! That is a statement, ‘I never left’!”

“That’s P1 Y/n, well done!” Pedro called over the radio as the Prema garage went crazy.

“Thanks for everything guys, great car, great drive-”

“Great driver,” he added.

You pulled into the pitlane and got out of the car, celebrating as they got the photo of you on the car. You ran over to Oscar at the barricade as you pulled off your helmet and balaclava.

“That’s my girl!” he cheered as you pulled him in for a hug. “See? Nothing's changed.”

You pressed your lips to his. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he smiled and pressed his lips to your cheek. “I’m loving this WAG lifestyle,” he chuckled.

You laughed. “It suits you.”

He chuckled. “Alright, you’re being called for the interview. Love you,” he smiled as you walked off, giving your hand a squeeze. You blew him a kiss back.

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

Clip 10: Prema video

Prema Headquarters, Grisignano di Zocco, Italy.

You were laughing with Logan, doing a ‘Who knows who best’ challenge and both of you were failing miserably.

You put the headphones on and the music started, making it impossible to hear him. You watched as the room erupted in laughter, then Logan nudged you to take the headphones off.

“What is the most annoying thing about you?” He asked, holding back giggles.

“I know what you’d say,” you chuckled. “Me and Oscar.”

The room erupted in laughter as he nodded. “Exactly!”

“You’re just jealous,” you chuckled.

“Why? ‘Cause I don’t have a girlfriend?”

“No, because I have Oscar and you don’t,” you shot back, and everyone started laughing again.

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

Clip 11: Sky Sports Channel

Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi, 20th of November

“And after a season of domination from the woman in red, Y/n Y/l/n sees the chequered flag first with a staggering 425 points! This F2 season will go down in history!”

You’d done it. You’d done it. You were an F2 champion, and next season you’d be in an F1 car fulltime, racing alongside Oscar, Logan, and Nick. You’d made it.

You jumped out of the car, amazed at your season. It’d been win after win, fastest lap after fastest lap, pole position after pole position. You’d worked so hard.

“You did it baby!” Oscar shouted as you ran over. You jumped into his arms, and let him hold you up. He looked at you like you held the sky up, like you were the greatest thing on the planet. “You’re incredible.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you smiled. “ I love you so much.”

“I love you so much more,” he pressed kisses to any inch of skin he could, more than proud to be yours.

You chuckled as he tickled you with his kisses, before you realised that you needed to go fulfil your duties. He put you down, but before you could leave, he grabbed your waist again. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Osc.”

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

Clip 12: Sky Sports channel, McLaren footage, and RedBull footage

Bahrain International Circuit, Sakhir, 2023.

“A disappointing result for Oscar Piastri, but an incredible run for Y/n Y/l/n, P1 in her first race! I’m sure he’ll be pleased with that for his long-time girlfriend!”

Oscar was pissed off, but his mood was lifted by your result. You were incredible. He cheered in his own garage, happy for your win. You’d won your first race. Who else did that? The first woman to ever do so.

He was in awe of you.

He exited his garage, ready to see you after your win. He saw you getting out of the car and running straight into the arms of your team and he smiled. He finally caught your eye after some time, and you ran over, wrapping your arms around him.

“I’m so sorry,” were the first words out of your mouth. “If I could trade our cars, I would Osc, I really would,” you sighed.

“Don’t even joke about that. Don’t make your first win about me. This is about you, my brilliant, incredible, winner,” he pressed his lips to yours in a short, victory kiss. “I love you, yeah?” “I love you too,” you smiled.

“You were amazing out there,” he smiled.

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

Clip 13: McLaren video

Jeddah Corniche Circuit, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia

“Who is your teammate's favourite person?” Lando asked, then looked at the camera and rolled his eyes. “Oscar’s is Y/n because he’s a traitor.”

Oscar burst into laughter and looked at Lando. “That’s not fair! We started dating as teammates!”

“Oh sure Osc!” Lando sighed, playing up the drama. “That’s what they all say.”

“But it’s the truth!”

“Anyways, moving on from Oscar and his traitor girlfriend, who’s my favourite person Oscar?”

“Max Fewtrell?”

Lando thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Him or my parents or siblings.”

Oscar took another question out of the bowl and chuckled. “What’s the other person’s red flag?”

Little did he know, you’d come in to visit him and were actively sneaking up behind him.

“Yours is your refusal to ever use a hairbrush,” you answered for Lando, and Oscar jumped, making everyone laugh, especially Lando, who fell off his chair. You chuckled and wrapped your arms around Oscar's neck from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Came to say hi,” you smiled, kissing his cheek.

“Came to air out my business online?” He questioned, laughing. He took your hands and led you around his chair, sitting you on his lap. “When did you get in?” he asked, resting his head on your shoulder as Lando tried to compose himself.

“Just now, came straight from the airport,” you nodded, leaning back against him.

“Bad flight?”

“Nah, I was on Max’s jet. He’s offered me to ask you two if you want to go back to Monaco after this weekend with him. I am,” you answered. He nodded, gently playing with your hands as he listened to you.

“Sounds good to me,” he smiled. “Tell him ‘thanks’, yeah?”

You nodded. “‘Course,” you got up to leave but he pulled you down by the arm and pressed your lips together quickly, then let you go. “Love you,” you called after yourself.

“Love you too,” he called back, ready to get back to the interview.

“Can we keep that in?” Ellie, their marketing manager asked.

He shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

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

Clip 14: Hattie Piastri’s tiktok vlog

Piastri residence, Melbourne, 2023

“Y/n’s over there with Oscar, and Addie is with May and mum and dad are with Tim over there,” she explained to the camera pointing everything out. In the video you and Oscar were laying on the grass in the setting sun, utterly exhausted from your weekend of racing where you’d gotten p2 and Oscar had gotten p8. His arms were wrapped around you as you lay on top of him, smiling.

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Clip 15: Sky Sports channel, RedBull footage and Nicole Piastri’s instagram

Circuit Zandvoort, Zandvoort, Holland

“And can she do it? Yes she can! Y/n Y/l/n beats teammate Max Verstappen to first place, and she sees the chequered flag first! What an incredible season this has been for the rookie!”

As you crossed the finish line, you almost felt sick. You’d beaten Max, giving you a lead in the Driver’s Championship. He’d been 10 points ahead. Now, you were 15 points ahead of him.

“That’s P1, P1 Y/n congratulations,” Pedro smiled.

“Thanks Pedro, and thanks everyone, really well done. Car is perfect, thank you all so much!”

“And Oscar’s P9, if you're wondering.”

“When I get my fucking hands on Zak Brown I will rip his fake fucking toupée off for giving him such a shit car,” You groaned. “Great drive guys, thanks.”

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

You walked into the paddock as they all cheered both you and Max on. Max had gotten P2, unhappy with not winning, but not mad that you’d won. He saw what you were doing for motorsports all around the world, how much pressure you were under as the first female driver in a long time, and how hard you were working. He wasn’t going to make your life harder by being an asshole off the track too. He gave you a celebratory hug and moved onto his driver’s room, as you stayed out with the engineers, chatting and celebrating with them.

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

Nicole Piatri’s instagram live

“Hi everyone, Osc and I are right now, trying to sneak into the RedBull garage to see Y/n,” Nicole explained and behind her, Oscar smiled and put both thumbs up.

“I’m going to be told off for this by Zak, so, sorry Zak. I want to see my girlfriend, my bad,” he chuckled, his apology only half-assed.

Nicole and him continued faffing around the paddock for a while, until Nicole caught your eye through the window. You ran over to the door beside them and let them in, pulling Nicole in for a huge hug as Oscar waited behind her with a wide smile.

He spoke to the live. “Apparently my girlfriend likes my mum better than me-"

You cut him off with a kiss as you laughed at his antics. “Shut the fuck up,” you chuckled. “You’re such a baby.”

“I missed seeing you in the conference,” he shrugged, holding you close as his mum took the phone and documented this moment between the two of you. “I love you,” he smiled.

“I love you too,” you chuckled, kissing his cheek. “P9? Not bad.”

He rolled his eyes and smiled. “P1? Not bad,” he lifted you into his arms making you squeal.

“Osc! Put me down!” You squealed.

“Let me win next time,” he chuckled. “Then I’ll put you down.”

“What do you want me to do? Switch our cars?”

“Ideally,” he chuckled, kissing your cheek and putting you down. “But I guess I’ll settle for watching you be gorgeous on the podium every week.”

“The fans are loving this!” Christian joked as he watched over Nicole’s shoulder, seeing how the chat was going crazy.

You both turned to Nicole with confused faces.

“You’re still filming mum?!”

This live has now been ended by the host.

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Clip 16: Sky sports channel

Lusail International Circuit, Lusail, Qatar

“Oscar Piastri has done the job brilliantly, the Australian driver will see the chequered flag first! Oscar Piastri wins the sprint to take McLaren to the top step once again!”

“That’s P2 Y/n, Oscar P1,” Pedro announced.

“WOOOOO!” You screamed, elated for him. “Fucking legend!”

“I said P2 for you,” he reminded.

“Shut up and be happy for him, just once,” you chuckled, pulling into the pit lane to park. You watched as Oscar got out of the car as you got out of your own car. Immediately, he ran over to you, wrapping you up in his arms as you celebrated together.

“You did it!” You shouted, jumped around in each other's arms. “You’re fucking incredible.”

“You put up a good fucking fight,” he chuckled, smiling like a kid.

“You’re going to look so sexy at the top of the podium,” you smirked and he blushed hard.

“I wish you wouldn’t say stuff like that in public,” he chuckled, then hid his face in your neck as you laughed.

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

Post-sprint conference

“So, this is a question for Y/n and Oscar,” an interviewer started. Both of you looked up, exhausted from the late night race. “Does your relationship prohibit you from racing to your full potential? I believe Y/n, you could’ve caught up. Did you give him this win?”

You scoffed, appalled that anyone would have the audacity to ask such a thing. “For fuck’s sake,” you sighed. “No. I couldn’t have. You know how you know that? Because I would’ve if I could’ve. I love Oscar, and I’ve loved him since I was about 14 years old, but that doesn’t mean that I let him win. He’s a ridiculously talented driver, and a fucking genius with strategy. His car is great too. But out there today? That was pure talent. I can love him, and wholeheartedly race him too,” you answered, getting annoyed at the comments like these you two constantly got. “And another thing, I’m getting really fucking sick of the questions about our relationship. Do you really think we’d be together if we couldn’t race each other and not come back to each other and be proud of each other? Seriously? Where is your critical thinking?”

The room was full of whispered conversation as you dropped the last diss, and beside you Oscar was looking at you with huge heart eyes. Anyone could see it from a mile away, he loved you. He chuckled, wanting to add his two cents as well. “Yeah, exactly. The only thing she lets me win in is chess, right?” He looked at you with a smirk and you rolled your eyes.

“You won once, asshole,” you chuckled, pushing his hand off your thigh.

“Then we stopped playing,” he shrugged, a cocky smirk very-present on his face.

“We ran out of time,” you shrugged, feigning innocence.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Sure.”

The tension in the room had been dissolved in the comedic moment, and you were thankful for Oscar’s calm exterior. You moved closer to him on the couch, and he wrapped an arm around you, smiling wide as you pressed a kiss to his hand, the one closest to your face.

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Clip 17: Drive to Survive

Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi

“How are you feeling?” Oscar asked, sitting in your driver’s room with you before the race. He knew how worried you were, how much you wanted this. You had to win. You and Max were neck and neck. You just had to get more points than him, starting from P2.

You sighed, standing between his legs and messing with his hair, favouring trying not to think about it rather than talking about it. He grabbed ahold of your waist and pressed his face into your torso, pressing kisses to wherever he could reach, trying to make you laugh.

You chuckled and pushed him away, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m alright, I promise. Just stressed.”

“You won’t be stressed in a week,” he smiled. “We’ll be in Melbourne.”

You smiled, and kissed him again. “We will. Waves and relaxing. Nothing else.”

“Well, and Logan,” he chuckled. “So… ‘Merica and all that,” he smiled as you laughed at his bad joke. He got you down to his lap and he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You’ve got this, don’t worry.”

“Wow, anxiety cured,” you replied sarcastically, making him laugh.

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Clip 18: Sky Sports Channel

Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi

“And it is an incredible season for the first female in modern F1, Y/n Y/l/n sees the chequered flag first, with a Driver’s Championship 1-2 with her teammate Max Verstappen! This makes her the first female ever to win the F1 Driver’s Championship title! What an inspiration!”

You’d done it. You won your rookie season. You were World Champion. You were a legend.

“WOOOOO!” You screamed as tears rolled down beneath your hemet. “We did it! We did it!”

“We did it!” Pedro screamed. You knew the entire RedBull garage was going crazy right now. “You did it Y/n!”

“Thank you, everyone! This would’ve been impossible without you all! Amazing year! Incredible work!” you beamed.

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

“That’s P6, P6 Oscar,” his race engineer announced.

“Did Y/n get it? Did she win?”

“Yes, your girl is a World Champion,” he smiled.

“YES! YES! THAT’S MY FUCKING GIRL!” he screamed, elated at the news. He knew you could do it. He’d always known you could do it.

He rushed to get to the pit lane, ready to celebrate with you. He jumped out of the car and pulled off his helmet as fast as he could, watching as you ran over to him.

“You did it!” He cheered. “My fucking girl.”

“I did it!” You cried, over the moon. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” you smiled.

His eyes filled with tears as his heart swelled with pride. “You’re amazing. I love you so much Y/n.”

Neither of you cared about the cameras around you as you went in for a kiss. You didn’t care about how sweaty and gross you both were, you didn’t care about the grief that the pr team would give you, you didn’t care.

You were a World Champion. He was your everything. You were his everything.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula one #mclaren #oscar piastri x fem!reader #f1 fluff

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saitkus · 2 years ago

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Grönholm is Revving Up For WRX Title

Niclas Grönholm is back in action and ready to take on the competition. The young Finn, son of two-time FIA World Rally Champion, Marcus Grönholm, has signed a multi-year extension to his contract with the renowned Construction Equipment Dealer Team. With a strong record of podium finishes and a career-best-equalling third in the standings last season, Grönholm is setting his sights even higher…

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lifestylebuz · 2 years ago

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The Most Expensive Trophies in the World: A Look at the Most Coveted Prizes in Sports

Trophies are an essential part of sports. They serve as a tangible symbol of accomplishment and recognition for athletes and teams who have worked hard to achieve their goals. However, not all trophies are created equal. Some trophies are more than just a piece of metal or a shiny cup. They are works of art that represent the pinnacle of achievement in their respective fields. In this article, we…

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#The America&039;s Cup - The Oldest Trophy in International Sports #The Borg-Warner Trophy - A Classic in Auto Racing #The Champions League Trophy - Europe&039;s Ultimate Club Prize #The Claret Jug - The Iconic Trophy of Golf&039;s Oldest Major #The FIFA World Cup Trophy - The Most Famous Trophy in Soccer #The Jules Rimet Trophy - A Symbol of Soccer Greatness #The Larry O&039;Brien Championship Trophy - A Symbol of NBA Greatness #The Stanley Cup - The Most Iconic Trophy in Hockey #The Vince Lombardi Trophy - The Most Coveted Prize in American Football #The Wimbledon Trophy - The Oldest Tennis Trophy in the World

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foreveradreamaway · 5 months ago

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helmets and hats- MV33/1

summary- the stress his father put on him never left his head, and neither does his helmet. only until you turn up with his lucky cap.

yes i know max won 2021, this is for the plot don’t come for me

Abu Dhabi 2021. the ride or die race for max and lewis. both of them just one race away from being the world champion. this was one of the biggest races of maxs life. this was what he had been waiting for his whole life. everything his father had put him through was for this. he could not mess this up.

but he did.

you stood in the room with all the engineers and important people who help to ensure maxs car runs perfectly throughout the entire race. you knew how much pressure max had been putting on himself in the weeks leading up to the race. spending 10 times more time at the race simulator and even more time working his body tirelessly to make sure it was race ready. you had watched hopelessly when he would do this many times before and knew this was just how he works. no protest from you will stop him, only make him work harder. he will come to you whenever he needs that little bit of comfort and reassurance, or even just a quick kiss to keep him motivated.

it was your favourite thing. knowing that he still needed you. he could be so deep in his own mind and would still seek you out. only you. he relied on you. for some things more than others, but he still did and you both knew it. he didn't always admit it, or want to, but you both knew. you were his main source of comfort and he couldn't go a day without it. he needed you in every sense of the word. he needed your love, he needed you there to remind him to pack enough socks when he goes away, he needed you to look after him when he was ill and most importantly he needed you there for the losses.

your heart drops when they cross the finish line, further than its ever dropped before. he wanted this so bad, needed it even. he had never lost a race this big before. but you were prepared, you would do the exact same as you did every other loss.

your feet carry you over to the intern whos specific job was to hold maxs hat. it was a very important hat and needed a whole person for it. you had had many interactions with the intern, retrieving his hat every time he lost. she gave you a knowing smile as you took the hat from her hands and went to meet max at you're usual spot.

he doesn't look at anyone as he exits the car and storms off. he physically cant. he doesn't even remove his helmet as he walks over to you, something you were already prepared for. his head is hung low as he approaches you, your hand immediately finding his shoulder. his feet stop in place, keeping his head down. the visor of his helmet was still all the way down so you couldn't make out the expression on his face.

he doesn't say anything as he places his hand softly over yours that sits on his shoulder. you knew not to push him at a time like this, letting him take your comfort when he needs. you stayed like that until you felt a sob rake his body. immediately wrapping your arms around his neck. his arms stayed at his side as you just held him. it wasn't often that he cried, but when he did, he did.

you weren't sure how long you stood there until his hands found your hips. you took this as your sign to move both your hands to his shoulders, finally speaking the words on your mind.

"you did so good baby" your hands moved to the sides of his helmet, attempting to lift it over his head but his hands quickly grabbed yours and brought them down in between the two of you. your face scrunching in compassion. lots of people knew what his father was like when max was younger, you more than most. the constant badgering and abuse never left his head, sticking with him throughout his life. as much as you comforted him and told him how proud you were of him, he always did the same thing after his losses. refusing to take his helmet off.

instead, you move to lift his visor up, catching a quick glimpse of his tear stained cheeks. you didn't see them for long before he quickly swiped it back down to cover his face again. your hand, once again, went back to swipe it up. his hand repeating his previous actions. smiles appeared on both your faces as you both kept up the act. his hand returning to yours when he heard a giggle escape your lips, allowing the visor to stay up. your laugh was his drug.

your head tilted to the side when you finally got to look at him. his cheeks slightly squished from the sides of his helmet and those slightly red eyes staring back at you, full of emotion.

"let me take your helmet off max" you whispered. his eyes shut as he shook his head, dropping it down again. you rested you forehead against the helmet in front of you. hands still gripping each others.

"you're safe baby, ive got you. its just me and you here." his head still didn't rise until you pressed a kiss to the top of his helmet. "im sorry" he croaked. your arms wrapped back around his neck to provide the comfort he desperately needed in that moment. the front of his helmet rested on your shoulder causing your head to tilt to the side, when it did you caught a glimpse of his oh so special hat.

you let go of one of maxs hands and leaned slightly to be able to grab the hat. as you did max slowly lifted his head up to see what you were doing and caught you with the hat in hand. a small smile appeared on his face when he noticed. it was always the small things that he loved about you. the fact that you noticed all the little things that comforted him made him feel so seen and loved in a way that he never had before.

you made eye contact with max and he gave you a small nod, approval to remove his helmet. your hands reached up to the sides of his head and slowly lifted it off. you placed it on the table where the hat had previously sat and moved back in front of max. one hand going to the back of his neck to carefully remove his under layer. you had never seen his face look sadder.

he closed his eyes and moved his head to rest between your neck and shoulder. this time you could feel the tears that were coming from his eyes. your heart breaking even more with every tear that fell.

"im so proud of you max" you whispered gently in his ear.

"i did so bad, schatje baby" his voice could barely be heard as he just felt too weak from everything. his body was filled with emotions that he didn't even know existed. the disappointment he felt was sickening and he didn't quite know how to deal with these feelings. the only thing he could do was cry in your arms.

"no way you didn't, you drove so well my love. that race was yours, it was a split second thing. there was nothing more you could have done. ive never been more proud of you than i am now max, everyone is so proud of you" you always tried your hardest to comfort him after a loss but he was stubborn and rarely actually took in what you said.

"not my dad" his voice was low, as if he didn't even want you to hear what he said. but you did. his father always loomed in the back of his mind no matter what he was doing. his fathers voice booming through his brain.

"he isn't here, no one else matters but me and you right now. im proud of you and thats all that matters. you've given this season your all, trust me i would know" a soft smile fell on your lips, max couldn't help but stare at your mouth as you talked. "you've spent countless hours in that bloody gym at home and did everything you could to make sure the best max was out on them tracks this season. i promise you max so many people will believe that you won this race and are standing behind you" his face had seemed to calm down a little now. his eyebrows no longer scrunched and his frown was slowly become flat.

his eye fell to the hat that was in your hand, your eyes doing the same. your smile got bigger as you knew what he wanted. you quickly secured the hat on its rightful place on maxs head. hats had slowly become a comfort for max. you would hardly ever see him without one, especially on race weekends. it became a shield between him and the scary eyes of the world. all he needed to do was tilt his head slightly down and he was alone and away from the chaos.

he quickly secured his lips to yours as his hands found the sides of your neck. your hands grabbing his wrists. he needed one final reassurance from you before he had to face the horrible questions of the media.

"go do what you need to do baby, call me and ill come find you. remember, im so proud of you." you placed a final kiss to his nose and cheek before he grabbed his helmet and began to make his way out the room. "you'll always be my champion max verstappen" you winked before he disappeared out the room.

he was a champion, he didnt need a trophy to prove it.

i hope you enjoyed my first max fic, many more to come. please send me requests i love hearing them

1K notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 1 year ago

Note

hiii! with the chaos that was today’s career, could I request one with driver reader that she started telling her team that she wasn’t feeling good but still wanted to continue but the next moment she isn’t answering her radio because she fainted in the car and the car goes out, the marshals take her out of the car and she doesn’t wake up, maybe she has extreme dehydration and is hot to touch, etc.

How the other drivers react when they found out, her team, etc.

Thank you

Too Hot To Handle

Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader

Summary: the Qatar Grand Prix pushed every driver to the limit … and some past the limit

Warnings: heat stroke, dehydration, crash, medical conditions

The Lusail International Circuit hums with electric anticipation, its asphalt ribbon shimmering under the floodlights. The roar of the crowd fills the night but the oppressive heat weighs on everyone, creating a contrasting atmosphere of excitement and cautious apprehension.

Standing alongside your Red Bull Racing car, you wipe a bead of sweat from your brow. In only your first year with the reigning double champions, you already have a record that has quickly become the talk of the paddock. But for all the praise and whispers, there is one voice that stands out.

“Remember, liefje, it’s not just about speed tonight. Keep hydrated, alright?” Max’s voice is full of warmth and concern. His hand rests gently on your arm.

You flash him a confident smile even though you’re battling your nerves internally. “I’ve raced in heat before, Maxie. I won in Singapore. I’ll be fine.”

He pulls you into a quick embrace, the temperature doing little to dampen the spark between you. “It’s different here. This heat ... it’s like nothing I’ve ever raced in before.”

Pulling back, you raise an eyebrow teasingly. “You worried about me, Verstappen?”

He laughs but there’s a hint of steely seriousness in his blue eyes. “Always. Just ... promise me you’ll be careful out there. For both our sakes.”

You nod, touching your helmet to his. “Promise.”

The intercom in your ear crackles to life. “Drivers, to your cars!”

You both exchange a final glance. Racing is in your blood, it’s what brought you together, but it also keeps you apart, if only for the few hours you’re no longer partners in life but competitors on track.

Sliding into your car, you secure your helmet and gloves. The world outside becomes a bit muffled but your focus sharpens. The engine’s purr is a familiar comfort, but tonight, it’s edged with the unease Max’s words left behind.

Your race engineer, Hugh Bird, checks in over the radio, “Everything good, Y/N?”

You take a deep breath, “As good as it’ll ever be. Let’s light up this track.”

“Give them a show.”

Lights out and away we go.

***

The Qatar Grand Prix unfolds with its usual mix of intensity and skill, drivers navigating tight turns and overtaking with precision. But beneath the spectacle, a subtle tension mounts. The oppressive heat, the stark floodlights, and the weight of expectation — all of it seems to be building to something.

In the garage and on the pit wall, your team closely monitors the race and your performance. Hugh occasionally chimes in with updates, “You’re doing great, Y/N. Remember to hydrate whenever you need to.”

You nod even though he can’t see it, “Understood. The heat’s something else in here.”

A pause. Then, “Just keep stead. And Max told GP to tell me to tell you to remember what he said.”

A smile touches your lips, “I always do.”

***

The track is a blur as you push your car to its limits, feeling the adrenaline surge in tandem with the roar of the engines. It’s as if the heat has seeped into your very core, burning with intensity. Each lap feels slightly longer, every turn a tad sharper, as the humid air takes its toll.

“Y/N,” Hugh radioes through, sounding distant and slightly distorted by the pounding in your head, “you’re P2. Great pace. Remember to sip some water.”

A trickle of sweat runs down the side of your face, stinging your eye. Blinking rapidly, you reach for the button that activates your hydration system.

“Got it,” your voice sounds foreign even to your own ears. The water is lukewarm and tastes metallic, not as refreshing as you had hoped.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” he urges.

With every lap, the world outside your visor seems to grow brighter, the floodlights shimmering like mirages in a desert. The race has become a battle, not just against other drivers but against the environment and, increasingly, against yourself.

“You’re dropping pace. Is everything alright?” Hugh’s concerned voice crackles through.

A knot tightens in your stomach. “I don’t know. I ...” You trail off, the words catching in your throat as a wave of overwhelming dizziness hits.

You can hear the alarm in your engineer’s voice becoming more pronounced. “Y/N, talk to me. Do we need to pit?”

The heat wraps around you, constricting, making it difficult to breathe. Your hands, slick with sweat, struggle to grip the wheel even through your gloves. “Guys ... I don’t ... feel ...” The world spins and your words falters.

“Y/N? Y/N, talk to me!”

But before you can respond, before you can even finish your sentence, the world tilts and blurs into an incomprehensible whirlwind. The sweltering heat, the relentless pursuit of victory, and the weight of expectation converge into a maelstrom that engulfs you entirely.

Your hands, once deftly steering the RB19, now hang limply by your sides. The car veers off the track, careening towards the barriers. Panic rises in you but it’s too late. Your body refuses to act.

The deafening sound of metal against metal fills your ears, followed by the nauseating sensation of impact. The world outside your cockpit twists and spins, a kaleidoscope of colors and chaos. Then, abruptly, it all goes dark.

In the garage, your team watches in horror as the monitors show the violent crash. The radio falls silent, the connection severed. In that heartbeat, the world goes eerily quiet, punctuated only by the distant echoes of screeching tires and the blaring alarms.

Moments pass like hours and finally the static on the radio clears, replaced by your frantic race engineer, “—please respond. Y/N? Are you okay?”

But there’s no response. Your world remains shrouded in darkness as the circuit comes to a standstill, gripped by an eerie silence that drowns out even the most deafening of cheers.

The track is plunged into chaos. Red flags wave fervently, signaling danger. Marshals rush towards your wrecked car, their fluorescent jackets contrasting brightly against the night.

“Get her out! Get her out!” One of the marshals shouts as they reach your car. Your limp form is carefully extracted and they begin immediate first aid. The severity of the situation is clear — the heat, the dehydration, it’s all taken its toll.

The crowd watches, a collective gasp filling the air soon replaced by a thick, heavy silence. As your unconscious form is stretchered away, the weight of all those warnings crashes down.

Back on the pit wall, four words whispered into the radio are the first of many about to turn your boyfriend’s world upside down.

“Safety car, safety car.”

***

“Max, we’re pitting this lap. Box, box,” the calm, steady voice of Gianpiero Lambiase, Max’s race engineer, instructs over the radio.

Max’s voice is curt, his mind still on the race. “Why? Tires feel fine.”

“Non-negotiable. Safety car is out. We need you to pit now.”

The urgency in GP’s voice is not lost on Max and he immediately senses that something is wrong. “What happened? Why is there a safety car?”

Silence follows for a heartbeat too long. “There was an incident. Just focus on your race.”

An icy dread seeps into Max’s bones. The circuit is massive yet his world feels terribly small at this moment. “Who was it? Who crashed?”

His engineer hesitates, and in that pause, the weight of a thousand possibilities presses on Max.

“Who. Was. It?”

GP wavers, “It’s … Y/N.”

Max’s breathing becomes ragged. Panic and fear flood his system. “Why the hell wasn’t I told immediately?”

“It was team orders. The decision was made to keep you focused on the race.”

Max laughs but it lacks any humor. “Team orders? You’re saying Christian decided not to tell me that Y/N ... my Y/N is hurt?”

“Yes,” the reply is uncharacteristically soft, “It was believed to be in everyone’s best interest for you to be fully focused on the race.”

Max has never felt such white-hot rage. He spits into the radio, seething with fury and pain. “You tell Christian that if he ever makes a decision like that again about someone I love, I’ll cut his balls off with a rusty spoon.”

“Max, I understand you’re upset. But right now, we need you to stay focused.”

Stay focused? When the love of his life is in potential danger? The weight of what that means presses down, threatening to crush him. “I need to see her,” he finally rasps out, voice breaking.

The plea hangs in the air, met by another long silence. Finally, the radio clicks on again, softer than ever. “Y/N would want you to finish. You know that. Win this for her.”

Tears blur Max’s vision, mixing with the sweat already pooling in his helmet, but he nods, a silent assent. The roaring engine now sounds distant, the glinting lights a backdrop to the storm that rages within him. Every second is an eternity, every turn a test of his resolve to keep racing. But Max drives on, pushing his limits for you.

Every fiber of his being silently screams your name, a prayer or a promise or both, Max doesn’t know. All he knows is that the faster he crosses the finish line, the sooner he can be with you.

For the world watching, the race continues, cars whizzing by. But for Max Verstappen, each lap, each second, is a race against his own heart, torn between duty and desperate love.

***

“Her pulse is erratic! Get the defibrillator ready!” A medic shouts as the emergency team frantically works around you, the ambulance parked haphazardly nearby.

Another voice, calmer but filled with urgency, counters, “Wait, give her a moment. She might come around.”

“Come on, Y/N,” A young medic mutters, pressing an oxygen mask to your face. “Don’t do this.”

The ambulance door opens again, the head medic speaking into a radio, “We need an airlift, now. The situation’s deteriorating rapidly.”

Another voice, muffled, replies, “The helicopter’s on its way! Clear the area.”

As the medics continue to administer aid, working desperately to stabilize you, the chief medic tries to maintain order, “Every second counts. This heat stroke is severe, coupled with dehydration ... it’s a nightmare scenario.”

“We should have had more cooling stations,” the younger medic mutters. “The humidity coupled with the heat ... it’s brutal tonight. And we’re not even the ones out there driving.”

The older medic takes a deep breath. “That is on the organizations. We can’t fix there mistakes but we can focus on what happening now and do everything we can to get her through this.”

The thrum of helicopter blades soon overwhelms the noise of the circuit, growing louder as it approaches. Soon, the bright light from its landing spotlight punctuates the night. “The helicopter’s here!” Someone shouts.

“Alright, team, on three,” the chief medic commands. They work in perfect sync, lifting you carefully but quickly, your body still unresponsive.

As they approach the helicopter, the pilot shouts over the roar, “We’ve got the best onboard. She’s in good hands.”

“She’s one of our best,” the younger medic shouts back. “She has to be okay.”

The chief medic, securing you inside, murmurs more to himself than anyone else, “Come on, Y/N. The race isn’t over. Keep fighting.”

***

“You expect me to smile and stand on that podium knowing she’s been airlifted to a hospital?” Max’s voice trembles with rage as he confronts the FIA officials blocking his way.

“Mr. Verstappen, there are rules, procedures,” an official replies stiffly.

“Rules? Y/N might be fighting for her life right now and you want to talk to me about rules?” Max’s hands clench and unclench as he physically holds himself back from throwing a punch.

Another official steps forward, trying to mediate, “Max, we understand your feelings but millions of viewers are watching. The podium is an essential part of the race.”

Max’s eyes flash with anger. “You think I care about a trophy when my girlfriend is in a hospital? Do you really think that piece of metal means anything to me right now?”

“We sympathize— ” the first official begins but is cut off by Max’s heated response.

“You sympathize? Do you even know what that word means?” He’s on the verge of breaking, voice barely above a whisper as he continues, “She is everything to me. Everything. And you want me to smile and wave for the cameras?”

The air grows thick with tension. The two drivers from McLaren waiting for their cue to go to the podium are silent, their eyes darting between Max and the officials.

A new voice interjects , “Let him go.”

It’s Lewis Hamilton, who despite DNFing early in the race, made his way across the paddock after seeing the distress on his rival’s face. “There are things more important than a ceremony.”

The officials exchange glances, clearly not expecting this intervention. But before they can reply, Max levels them with a final scathing look. “Fine me if you must! Penalize me! Suspend me for all I care! But I am going to her.”

And off he goes.

***

A nurse at the desk recognizes Max immediately when he runs into the hospital. “Mr. Verstappen,” she begins hesitantly, “Miss Y/L/N is in the ICU. Room 302.”

He doesn’t need any further prompting to sprint down the hall. Reaching the room, he stops dead in his tracks. You’re there, surrounded by machines that beep and whirr, tubes running to and from you, an oxygen mask on your face. The sight of you, once so full of life, now frail and vulnerable, breaks him.

His voice, when he finally managed to finds it, is a choked whisper, “Y/N ...”

Approaching the bedside, Max gently takes your hand, feeling its clamminess. “Hey, liefje ... it’s me,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. His tears fall freely, wetting the back of your hand.

“Come on, love,” his voice cracks as he continues, “You’ve got to pull through this. For us.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, tracing the familiar curves and lines he’s come to adore. “Remember that time in Monaco? When we snuck out for that secret dinner that our trainers would have killed us for? We promised each other forever that night. You can’t leave me now. Not when we’ve got so many more memories left to make.”

The room’s silence is punctuated only by the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor in a cruel reminder of the fragility of the moment.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs. “Please ... please come back to me.”

Leaning in, he rests his forehead against yours, allowing the weight of his anguish, love, and hope to flow between the two of you in the sterile room.

***

Nothing has changed. The steady beep of the heart monitor still punctuates the silence of the hospital room. Max sits vigilantly at your bedside, his hand gently clasping yours.

It’s been three days since the crash and you still have not woken up. The doctors say your condition is stable but uncertain.

Max leans in close and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Morning, liefje. I’m still here. Not going anywhere.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch impossibly gentle as if you might break. In the stark hospital lighting, the dark circles under his eyes are visible. Sleep hasn’t come easy to him, not with you lying here.

A soft knock at the door draws Max’s attention. Hugh pokes his head in hesitantly. “Hey, Max. Any change?”

Max shakes his head, swallowing hard. “Nothing yet. But she’s fighting. I know she is.”

Your race engineer steps further into the room, his expression solemn. “I should have seen the signs earlier. Pushed her to hydrate more. Slowed her pace.” His voice catches, “It was my job to look out for her.”

“This wasn’t your fault,” Max says firmly. “Y/N is stubborn. We both know that. She wanted to prove herself.” A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “It’s what makes her brilliant.”

Hugh pulls up a chair on the opposite side of the bed. For a moment, the two men sit in pensive silence. Then your race engineer speaks again, softer this time. “Has she ... has she responded at all? Squeezed your hand or anything?”

Max clenches his jaw and stares past Hugh at the blank wall. “No. Nothing yet. But I know she can hear me. I tell her about training, the team ... I update her on everything. She’ll want to jump right back in when she wakes up.”

Footsteps approach and a nurse enters, checking the equipment and your vitals. After making some notes on a chart, she offers an encouraging smile. “No change but she seems stable. Just keep talking to her. Familiar voices help.”

After she departs, Hugh leans forward, clasping your still hand. “Hear that, Y/N? You’ve got to wake up. The team needs you. Your fans are all rooting for you. And ...” His voice cracks. “I need my driver back.”

Max looks at him gratefully. “We all need her back.” Reaching out, he gives your race engineer’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Another knock sounds. This time, it’s Christian. His face is etched with guilt and worry. “Max. Any improvement today?”

Max’s expression hardens. He hasn’t forgotten Christian’s decision to withhold news of your crash. But his voice remains even as he responds to the team principal. “Nothing new.”

Christian pulls up a chair next to Hugh. He chooses his next words carefully. “Max, I need to apologize. I made the wrong call that night. You deserved to know immediately about Y/N. My priorities were skewed.” His voice shakes slightly. “Seeing her like this ... I would give anything to go back and change what I did.”

Max studies him for a long moment and some of the hardness leaves his eyes. “I appreciate that. But right now, the past doesn’t matter. All that matters is her getting better.”

Christian nods. Reaching out, he gently smoothes your hair. “You hear that, Y/N? We’re all here for you. Your whole team. Now you need to come back to us.”

A heavy silence settles on the room once more. The three of them remain clustered around the bed … keeping vigil … willing you to show any small sign of recovery.

After some time passes, the ringing of Hugh’s phone snaps the three men out of their thoughts. “Sorry to interrupt,” your press officer’s voice filters through the speaker, “but the team’s on the line. They want to send their well wishes to Y/N.”

Hugh glances at Max questioningly who nods, “Patch them through. Let the whole team remind her why she needs to wake up.”

A smile tugs at your race engineer’s lips. “You got it. Go ahead, team. She can hear you.”

A chorus of voices floods the room. Your mechanics, pit crew, strategists, PR team … everyone chimes in with encouraging messages.

“Come on, Y/N! We need our star girl back on the grid.”

“You can do this, kid. You’re the toughest one out there!”

“We all believe in you. Keep fighting!”

Max grips your hand tighter, emotions threatening to spill over. Even Christian and Hugh have sheens of tears in their eyes.

“Alright,” your race engineer says after the team signs off. “You heard them. Time to wake up.”

And that’s when Max feels it. A short, weak squeeze of his hand.

Then your eyelids begin to flutter.

“Y/N?” Max leaps to his feet, leaning over you anxiously. “Can you hear me?”

Slowly, painfully, your eyes open, taking in the scene around you. Confusion clouds your expression. “M-Max?” You rasp.

A brilliant smile breaks across Max’s face. Relief floods through him so powerful that his knees nearly buckle as he chokes out, “Yes, yes it’s me! You’re back, liefje. You’re really back.”

Hugh lets out a shaky laugh, scrubbing a hand across his face. “Welcome back, superstar.”

You try to speak again but Max hushes you gently. “Save your strength. We’ve got all the time in the world to talk.”

Christian grins, looking years younger. “Oh thank god. I need to tell the team. They’ll be thrilled. Welcome back, Y/N.” He hurries from the room, phone already in hand.

Your race engineer squeezes your shoulder. “Get some rest. We’ll all be here when you wake up.”

As he and the nurse move discreetly out of the room, you gaze up at Max. “You ... you stayed.”

Max lifts your hand to his lips, blinking back tears. “Of course I stayed. I’ll always stay by your side.”

He leans down, pressing his lips against your chapped ones. All the fear, the uncertainty, the heartache of the past few days melts away.

You’re back. You’re really back. And Max knows, without a shred of doubt, that your lives from this day on will be greater and more meaningful than all your wildest dreams.

***

In the following days, drivers from across the grid make the pilgrimage to your hospital room. They come bearing gifts — flowers, balloons, even a nearly life-size plush race car. But more importantly, they come bearing a message.

“That race should never have happened,” Lewis says solemnly, handing you a get-well card covered in signatures. “The heat was dangerous. We should have acted sooner.”

Esteban grips your hand tightly. “I’m sorry, Y/N. We should have spoken up about the conditions sooner. We all suffered but you suffered most.”

“Your crash woke us all up,” Lance adds. “No trophy is worth risking drivers’ safety even more than we already do each race.”

You’re moved by their solidarity but sigh knowingly. “The FIA would never have listened to just one driver saying something. But maybe they’ll listen to all of us.”

Max’s jaw clenches, residual anger simmering beneath the surface. “They have to listen. We won’t race in unsafe conditions again.”

The other drivers nod, They know the power that you all wield together and for the first time in a long time, you are going to use it.

In a show of outspoken unity, the GPDA drafts a strongly worded letter condemning the lack of caution around extreme heat and demanding tangible changes to make sure drivers aren’t put in avoidable jeopardy.

All twenty of you threaten to strike.

To your surprise, the FIA not only apologizes for the oversight but pledges to implement the requested changes immediately.

“Your crash was a wake-up call,” the FIA president says solemnly during a visit to your hospital room. “We should have protected you better. That will never happen again.”

When he departs, you let out a long breath, leaning back against the pillows. The anger and hurt from that night haven’t disappeared entirely but you feel a sense of hope, that some good has come from the experience.

Max clasps your hand between both of his. “What you went through is unacceptable but you used that to make the sport safer for every driver out there. I’m so proud of you.”

You give him a tired smile. “We did this together. All of us.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Get some rest. When you’re better, we’ve got plenty more checkered flags to take. Side by side.”

The long road to full recovery still lies ahead. But with Max by your side, and all the drivers behind you, you know everything will be okay.

The race goes on but it will be a safer race thanks to you.

5K notes · View notes

afterglowsainz · 8 days ago

Text

i wish i hated you | max verstappen

pairing: actress!reader x max verstappen

summary: max has an open relationship but he starts falling for you, compromising his relationship and your reputation

fc: havana rose liu

warnings: so i know this is not technically how open relationships work however for plot purposes this is how i will portray this one specifically

a/n: this fic shouldn’t have took me as long as it took me to write but whatever, max won in brazil after an incredible race and he deserves all the flowers 🥹

—

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blorbocedes · 7 months ago

Text

On: different parenting approaches

so keke rosberg has a world championship, and a newborn son. he retires the sport a year after, the shadow of tragedy following him -- the fatal crash of his friend and f1 driver elio de angelis being the reason.

now keke has a blonde baby that looks like its mother and babbles in german. he bonds with his son in the language he knows best — no, not his mother tongue rusty with disuse — racing.

so he builds a track in their garden in ibiza and sticks his son in the two person kart beside him before he is old enough for the helmet to even fit properly.

keke takes nico to the last race of his career in DTM, in a smaller replica of his exact uniform. keke tells him to wave. the roar of the crowd terrifies nico. he can't. he wants to be a racing driver when he grows up.

and you know this part of the story. the boy follows in his father's footsteps. in the sport of nepotism, keke rosberg is the only world champion father who lives to see his son become a champion.

so nico rosberg has a world championship and a newborn daughter. he retires the sport a year after she is born. he knows the same fatality of the sport his father does, has experienced and lost firsthand.

now nico has a blonde baby that looks like its mother and babbles in german. nico wants to bond with her in every way he can. he wants to be hands on in every way.

he speaks 5 languages, went to an international school and both she and her sister are enrolled in the same one. he reads parenting books, has tea parties with them, and drops them to school.

the thought of his daughters following in his footsteps terrifies him, and he understands now why his mother could never stomach to watch a single race of his. this glorious unforgiving sport of his, and his father's, that doesn't care who it takes. and it seems unthinkable to put a child in a racecar, even though that was his childhood.

but if she really wanted, like he really wanted -- he would not deny it.

so he takes her to a indoor go kart track in monaco, in a helmet that's bigger than her. he's tucked right behind her, safe. they share so many languages in common, french growing up in monaco, german at home, english at school, some spanish from going to ibiza. and this -- although it's been a while since he's really spoken it, his father's language-- is one of them.

#nico rosberg #keke rosberg #web weaving #my gifs

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boiohboii · 5 months ago

Text

The Lost Keychain

(Max Verstappen x f!reader)

When Max loses a key chain gifted to him by his girlfriend, the world realises that a race track isn't the only thing he dominates in.

When Max's girlfriend shocks the world about how she has 2 different personalities.

WARNINGS: NOT PROOFREAD, JUST SOMETHING QUICK, A BIT SUGGESTIVE. no actual smut but description of a spicy position in a photo and a suggestive quote engraved on key chain.

Masterlist

Everyone knows how much Max hates media days and reporters invading his privacy, he hates talking about his personal life, especially his girlfriend.

When they first started dating Max tried to keep her away from the media as much as possible, and no one blamed him seeing how sweet, kind and lovely she is, nowadays some of his fans even save her from reporters during race weekends, everyone loved her and they all followed Max's footsteps into protecting the sweet, shy girl.

So maybe this was his fault, actually scratch that, it is definitely his fault, he shouldn't have lost such a precious gift. He feels like everyone is watching his every move much more than usual ever since the incidence at the redbull garage got out, but what can he do, after all a gift like that shouldn't have even been outside of his hotel room.

"Guys, who lost their keychain?"

A redbull mechanic screamed over the noise as he waves the found item around, jiggling sounds from what appears to be multiple house keys and two gate keys gradually drawing the attention of the entire redbull garage.

"Why would anyone even bring their house keys to the garage?" an intern dismissed "none of us have a house in this country man."

Shrugging, the mechanic decided to keep it with him until it's owner realises, and until then he decided to just examine it, maybe there'd be a clue of who it belongs to.

The chocking sound alerted some fellow mechanics, making them get closer to the one who was now red faced with wide eyes looking at the lost keychain.

"Damn," a mechanic said as he took the keychain "that's one lucky motherfucker"

Other mechanics make their way over to the commotion, a crowd forming to see why such an item is taking so much attention.

It was a silver keychain, that much was seen by all the mechanics from afar, what wasn't seen from afar however was what had all of them coughing awkwardly, some even blushing.

On one side of the diamond shaped chain you can see the words 'welcum home. Dinner is ready.' Now, you would think that the pun is just weirdly placed and doesn't match with the sweet message, but the message was intended to be anything but sweet. Turning the chain to its other face, you would see another engravement. A picture. A woman who appeared to be resting on a flat surface supporting her weight on one elbow so that she can lift her torso up, with her legs wide open, palm covering her and a bike helmet on her head. But it wasn't a bike helmet, it was a helmet with an outline that's eerily similar to the design of Max Verstappen's 2021 helmet.

"Holy shit."

"Do you think-"

"Hey, has anyone seen a silver diamond shaped keychain?" The familiar voice of their three times world champion cut through their talking, making them all look like they were 5 year old children with their hand in a cookie jar way past their bedtime. And Max noticed.

Walking closer to the mechanics Max's cheeks got redder and redder with each step, coughing and smiling awkwardly.

"So," clearing his throat in a failed attempt to make things not so tense "that's mine, give it back."

Trembling hands dropped the silver item into Max's awaiting palm before he clenched it around the treasured chain, turning and taking his leave.

"What did you guys do to Max? His face and ears are all red." GP's voice cut through the awkward atmosphere, no one knowing what to say or do.

Noticing the environment and reading the room, GP laughed as he looked at the rest of his colleges. "Did he lose the keychain again?"

#max verstappen fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen oneshot #max verstappen x female reader #max verstappen x yn #max verstappen x you

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edwardslvrr · 7 months ago

Text

FUTURE REPLACEMENT 𐙚 carlos sainz

౨ৎ carlos sainz x singlemum!reader

the one where reader is a single mum who’s son got into karting when she catches carlos his attention on instagram after her son says he wants to be just like carlos sainz when he grows up

taglist if you'd like to be added to my taglist, message me privately or comment on this post

warning this is all fake and just for fun, no hate to any of the people mentioned. Just a reminder that this is pure for entertainment хохо

main masterlist 𐙚 carlos masterlist

౨ৎ yourinstagram madrid, spain

liked by yourbestfriend and 527 others

yourinstagram karting on saturdays, watching f1 on sundays is the way we go 🏎️

view all 53 comments

username wish that was my life

yourbestfriend little matteo next f1 world champion

yourinstagram stop he’s still my little boy, already missing his first ever karting days 😣

yourbestfriend his little giggles when he saw his first ever kart, oh my heart

username best mum award goes to you

username our future world champion 🗣️‼️

username you look so amazing omg

౨ৎ yourinstagram posted on their stories

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yourbestfriend the sunglasses, pls this kid 😅

yourinstagram said the sun was too bright haha

yourbestfriend sassy king

౨ৎ yourinstagram posted on their stories

view by yourbestfriend, username and 737 others

replies to your story

yourfriend and how happy was he after that race?

yourinstagram he was jumping around the living room the entire race, even yelled at the tv when carlos needed to box haha

yourfriend how cute, was watching for a bit and noticed carlos in front and was immediately thinking about how happy matteo would be

yourinstagram was even happier this race than singapore😅 probably missed him a lot last race back when he was praying for just a little glimpse of carlos

yourfriend could imagine that, he deserved this race!

౨ৎ yourinstagram madrid, spain

liked by carlossainz55 and 701 others

yourinstagram Matteo wanted a new red kart because he said he wanted to be like Carlos Sainz when he grows up 🥹🩷

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username aw my heart, that’s the cutest thing i’ve read! Carlos will have some competition!!

username omg carlossainz55 you need to see this 😍

yourbestfriend our future carlos sainz, ferrari hold open that spot for when little matteo is older ❤️

yourinstagram our future ferrari driver

username carlossainz55 SEE THIS

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yourinstagram wish you could hear matteo screaming right now

username carlos !!!!

౨ৎ f1wagscontent twitter

౨ৎ instagram DM carlossainz55/yourinstagram

౨ৎ carlossainz55 albert park circuit, melbourne

liked by landonorris and 1.979.792 others

carlossainz55 P1!! What a rollercoaster🎢!! Let’s keep it up in Japan!

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username drove like a man with no job and no appendix!!

yourinstagram matteo was full on crying and cheering! amazing race 🫶🏼

liked by carlossainz55

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username BRAVO CARLOS 👏

landonorris gonna go get my appendix removed

liked by carlossainz55

౨ৎ yourinstagram posted on their stories

view by yourbestfriend, carlossainz55 and 2.118 others

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yourbestfriend so happy for Matteo! send me loads of photos

yourinstagram will do for sure!!!! 🤍

carlossainz55 can’t wait to meet Matteo, hope to catch you two later today! enjoy the race

yourinstagram thank you so much, I’ve never seen him happier.

carlossainz55 preparing him for the future ;)

౨ৎ cxrlxndo twitter

౨ৎ yourinstagram suzuka international circuit

liked by carlossainz55 and 5.783 others

yourinstagram Matteo met his idol today, we had the best experience ever. Congratulations on your P3 carlossainz55 and thank you so much for inviting us and making Matteo the happiest boy on the planet.

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username so adorable omg

yourbestfriend his dream came true, so happy for him!!!

yourinstagram just sent you bunch of photos and videos!!🥹🤍

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username matteo’s the luckiest kid ever

username scuderiaferrari hire this kid

౨ৎ messages lando/carlos

౨ৎ messages carlos/yourname

౨ৎ yourinstagram posted on their stories

view by yourbestfriend, landonorris and 3.878 others

replies to your story

username omg a date with carlos?

yourbestfriend matteo says goodnight, and to say hi to carlos😅

yourinstagram ah i already miss him so much, tell him Carlos says hi back!!

yourbestfriend putting him in bed rn, enjoy the rest of your evening babe! 🤍

username the view looks so good

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౨ৎ f1wagscontent twitter

౨ৎ yourinstagram no location

liked by carlossainz55 and 19.793 others

yourinstagram when i was first met with the fact i’d be a single mum i was scared and not ready for it, I thought I’d be the worst mum ever but then Matteo came into the world and he became the light of my life. I set an entire part of my life aside for him, and I’ve never regretted that decision for a second. I never expected to love someone new again after everything that happened, I wanted to raise my son alone. Never thought I’d fall in love again, and you made it possible for me to do that on my own time. thank you for loving Matteo and me the way you do.

view all 2.989 comments

username never expected i’d cry bcs of a hard launch.

yourbestfriend matteo is so lucky to have you, remember that!! he’s definitely so thankful for everything you did for him

yourinstagram iloveyou, thank you for being his second mum whenever needed🤍

yourbestfriend always will be here for both of you!

username the first picture omg🥹

username goodbye i can’t do this today

carlossainz55 oh honey, you’re making me tear up here. So thankful for you and Matteo, love you both! will be your biggest supporter through everything, Matteo is lucky with a mum like you❤️

yourinstagram we love you loads! 🫶🏼

username matteo will be ferrari’s next world champion‼️

scuderiaferrari holding open that seat for 2037!

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౨ৎ yourinstagram posted on their stories

view by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 22.683 others

replies to your story

username GOOD LUCKKK

username our world champion!

charles_leclerc good luck to matteo❤️

yourinstagram he says thank you!!

yourbestfriend can’t wait to see my little man win!🏎️🤍‼️

yourinstagram carlos is already fixing the kart for the 6th time😭

yourbestfriend of course he is, no suprise there

yourinstagram it’s adorable to see how stressed he is, matteo is reassuring him.. think it’s supposed to be the other way around haahah

౨ৎ f1wagscontent twitter

taglist - @louvrepool @italyrryx @buendiabebeta @janeholt3 @lightdragonrayne @namgification @aquangxl @sammyam @americanbluebirdrb @poppyflower-22 @c-losur3 @nxrrislando @haikyuen @evie-119 @raevyng @urfavsgf

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fangirl-dot-com · 7 months ago

Text

🐾 Il Pawdestinato

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Bianchi!Reader (fc. Alexandra) Genre: Comfort/Fluff Summary: A disappointing fourth place as Suzuka has your boyfriend feeling down. Maybe all he needs is a teeny-tiny surprise.

So this is that imagine that I've been talking about making. Sorry, it's taken so long. I hope you all enjoy and I promise I am working on the next chapter of Reputations. I just think that since it's a smaller fic, I could do an imagine and a chapter for the week. Let me know what y'all want me to do!

You internally sighed as you watched the red car with the number 16 cross the line in fourth place. Anger started to bubble below the surface and you had to turn around for a moment, hoping that the cameras in the garage wouldn’t catch the sneer on your face.

How hard was it to get Charles on the podium that his heart needed?

The tenth anniversary and it seemed to not matter to anyone except your family and Charles’s. But of course, it’s Ferrari. Can’t give their driver a decent car or a decent strategy. When Charles is ahead it’s race on if you’re faster. But if Charles is faster but behind it’s stay in position.

When were Ferrari finally going to actually put actions into their words? Or give their chosen driver the better strategies?

Your blood had almost boiled over at the very distasteful words of Damon Hill when he called Charles depressed and emotion during the weekend. Sorry, it’s not like his godfather or your brother had a fatal crash ten years ago. Totally not that.

Charles had to hold you back from seeking out the former champion when you watched the interview.

But now, you just had to be there for Charles.

Your hands held the helmet that the Monegasque would have brought to the podium with him if he had been up there. The helmet that should have been brought to the podium years ago if everything had been according to plan.

But ten years ago, fate had a different story: one that didn’t include your brother in the narrative.

Your high-heeled feet quickly took you to Parc Ferme to meet him there. You didn’t want to be too late. Multiple people in red parted for you as you made your way to the cars. The shiny helmet seemed to blind anyone who looked at it.

Charles took his time getting out of the car in the P4 placement. His heart was heavy as his head turned to look at the wrong Ferrari parked a few meters away. God how he wanted that to have been him. His eyes watered as he started to take his gloves off. He could see the tilt of Carlos’s lip as he gave his post-race interview. He despised the driver for it.

However, as he turned, a glint of silver caught his eyes. The Monegasque almost choked on his spit when he saw that you were holding it up. He all but ran over, trying to get there quickly before Max was called up.

Charles held out his hands when he got close, however he froze when you placed Jules’s helmet in his hands. His own helmet was still on, probably him trying to hide his own tears. Except, you had let yours run free.

You gave him a little nudge.

“Go,” was all you told him.

The Ferrari driver, now with helmet in hand, jogged over to the cool down room. The security around didn’t bother him, almost knowing what he was trying to do. He poked his head around the corner and caught a bit of the conversation.

“And you were struggling with tyres,” he heard Max say as he watched the Dutchman almost give Carlos a cold shoulder. Max’s eyes widened when he caught a familiar red helmet peeking around the corner. He cocked an eyebrow but walked over when beckoned.

“Charlie?” he questioned when he saw the Monegasque crying in his helmet. Max wanted to question him further, but something was thrust in his hands. He looked down in shock.

Charles shuffled on his feet a bit.

“Can-can,” he stuttered under the Dutchman’s gaze. He inhaled deeply. “Can you take this with you? On the podium?”

He shut his eyes tight, not even wanting to see if Max rejected his plea. A hand came to rest on his shoulder and he opened his eyes just a bit. He was confused when he saw that Max was close to tears as well.

Max gulped the big lump in his throat, taken back by what Charles was asking. If Max could, he’d switch with Charles in heartbeat.

He tried to give the brunet a smile, but it came out kind of crooked. Max clutched the helmet close to his stomach, careful not to accidentally drop it. He looked down at the silver detailing. The only thing lacking on it was the Ferrari emblem. His eyes widened a bit when he realized that this wasn’t just an extra helmet from Charles.

“I-I’m sorry I c-can’t bring it up myself,” Charles tried to justify, but he couldn’t get the words out.

In the back of the cooldown room, Checo’s eyes were trained on the pair. His eyes slid to the side only to find Carlos not even looking. The Mexican wished he could hear when they were saying, but the familiar helmet told him everything he needed to know. He watched Charles back away and disappear around the corner. Once the red-clad driver was gone, Checo saw Max stiffen as though he realized what this actually meant.

The second Red Bull driver got off the seat and walked over toward the Dutchman. He peered down at the silver helmet. He could almost hear Max thinking in the silence. Now he was the one to place a comforting hand on Max’s shoulder, as the Dutchman had done for Charles.

“He trusts you Max.”

Max only breathed in and nodded. They were quickly called to line up go to the podium. When the blond got to the top step, he made sure to hold the helmet where everyone could see. It was kind of like a testament to truly show that he was the wrong driver to be holding it on the top step.

His blue eyes tried to find green in the crowd below, but he failed. Max even failed trying to find you. He deflated a bit but still held his head up high. Max’s lips quirked when he heard P screaming from below in the arms of Kelly.

While Max held the helmet, really all he could think of is if he would have friends who’d hold his helmet in reverence if he were to tragically die. He’d like to think that Charles would race with a dedication helmet all race year long. He wouldn’t want it on Carlos’s helmet or Checo’s (but he knew that the two would do it anyway).

Even though he was missing green, his eyes did catch a wide smile. He was glad that Danny was there, knowing the Australian had been close to Jules during his time in F1.

Max had been so caught up in the anthems that he didn’t even realize that they had ended. Not wanting the helmet to get ruined with champagne, he quickly ran around to hide it behind the wall. He made sure it was stable before running back out to join in the celebrations. He knew that he’d have to give it back after, but for now, he could only receive sprays of bubbly.

Charles’s head had been buried in the crook of your next since he got back to his drivers room. You could only rub small circles on his back, trying the comfort the sad man.

“Why am I just never good enough?” Charles whispered into the silence. Your breath hitched when you heard the utter despair in his voice. “Can’t even get a podium for Julio.”

“Charles, it’s not you. Please, never think it’s you.”

The Monegasque only sighed and turned more into you. Your hands blindly reached for your phone. Once your fingers hit the cool case, you immediately grabbed it and started to plan something. You knew that the two of you were headed to Milan this week for sim testing and for the grand opening of LEC. But, you knew that you could make it even more special.

You grinned as you made the plans and sent over a hefty amount of money, but it’d be worth it.

Hopefully.

A knock on the door had Charles sitting up straight. He quickly rubbed his eyes before heading over to the door. When he opened it, he came face to face with a soaked Max, who had slightly sad eyes. In his hands was the helmet.

Max’s gray eyes swept over Charles before looking around the room. He gave you a smile when your eyes met. A quick nod of you head told Max everything he had to know. He turned his eyes back to Charles and handed the headpiece over.

There was some awkward silence before Max coughed.

“I’m guessing you’re headed back to Maranello?”

When Charles shook his head no, the Dutchman was a little confused.

“We’re headed to Milan first,” was all Charles offered.

You snorted at the short words from your boyfriend. Charles grew red but then offered a little more intel. “I have that ice cream thing.”

Max’s eyes widened when he realized that it wasn’t just a rumor or a joke. Charles made a face.

“I’m very serious about my ice cream Max.”

Oh, Max guesses he said that out loud.

The Red Bull driver snorted. “I wouldn’t doubt that Charles. Everything you do, you do it best.”

Now, Charles grew red (but not of embarrassment).

“Thank you,” he whispered, squeezing the helmet a bit tighter. You were still scrolling through your phone as they talked a bit more. You were just making sure that the place you were staying at had the correct accommodations for your surprise.

It was only when Charles got back into his spot on your chest did you realize that Max was gone. You turned your phone off and put your hands into his hair and started to scratch lightly. A content sigh escaped Charles as he finally melted into you. You leaned down to kiss his forehead.

“We have to get going or the flight is going to leave without us,” you murmured into his hairline. You had talked to Fred (more like demanded) about letting Charles skip debrief for the time being. The money in your bank account could pay for whatever expenses the Monegasque would be fined if he skipped everything.

In the plane, Charles had curled up to you once again. When you made sure that he was sound asleep, you got your computer back out. You finished typing out your email to Doni, making sure that everything was in order for when the plane would land. You just hoped that you could keep the surprise a secret for a little longer.

Knowing that Charles would be dead tired when you got to the place where you’d be staying for almost two weeks, you put him straight to bed when you arrived. He went down with little to no arguments and was sound asleep as you unpacked everything.

Pulling back the covers, you were able to slip in next to him. As you were about to fall asleep, Charles wrapped his arm around your middle and brought you closer. His lips met the crest of your shoulder before tucking his head back into your neck. You put your hand over his arm and held it tightly.

In the morning, you were woken up by the sound of a blender from the kitchen. You sleepily put your feet on the cool tile and made your way to the open room.

Charles had his bare back to you as he was slaving over frozen fruit and oat milk. He startled a bit as your cheek came to rest on his shoulder. Your lips pressed against your favorite freckle that stood out amongst the rest of the galaxy on his back.

“Good morning amore.”

You always loved his terms of endearment in the morning when his voice was still deep with sleep.

“Morning Cha.”

Charles smiled as he heard sleep still evident in your own voice. While he pressed the automatic blend button, he turned around to face you. Your eyes were still closed as you looked at him with a dopey smile. Charles couldn’t help but mirror it, even if you couldn’t see it.

He leaned down and placed feather-light kissed on your eyelids before moving down to your nose. The Monegasque always loved doing that as your nose would immediately scrunch after.

A whine left your lips, signally to him that he hadn’t kissed you where you wanted it yet. He rolled his eyes and stooped a bit lower, his lips finally finding solace in yours.

After three years, you still couldn’t get over the feeling of his lips on yours. Your hands slip up his arms until they locked behind his neck, pulling him closer to you. His own hands found themselves planted against the span of your hips.

It was just the two of you in your own little world for a bit, leaving you breathless when you finally parted, smoothie long forgotten.

Charles rested his forehead against yours.

You hummed, getting his attention.

“I have a surprise for you later today,” you told him. Feeling him tense against your chest, you knew he was immediately interested.

“Like, later today or in a few hours.”

“More like in a few hours. We have to get ready and then get going.”

You and Charles quickly drank your smoothies before you headed back to the bedroom to get dressed. Teasingly, you swung the keys around his face as you walked out to the car, claiming that you had to drive because he didn’t even know where you were going.

“You get to be passenger princess now my love,” you called as you climbed into the driver’s seat. Charles could only roll his eyes.

He would never admit it, but he secretly liked being the passenger every once in a while. It gave him the freedom to choose the music and not worry about getting one place to another.

Once the car got closer to the location, Charles had a sense of what was going on. He turned his head toward you once you pulled into the house. His eyes were sparkling (but you knew they’d get brighter once he understood why exactly the two of you were here).

Charles unbuckled with you following suit.

“Are we here to see Mimi?” he questioned as he held your hand, swinging it as you walked.

You were digging through your purse with your other. “Something like that.”

The doorbell was rang and Charles smiled at the sight of his friend.

“Hi mate,” he greeted, pulling Doni into a hug. You gave the man a greeting when you had the chance.

“Follow me,” Doni said, pulling you and Charles into the house. You could tell that the Monegasque was excited as he squeezed passed Doni and immediately went to pick Mimi up. You giggled, seeing your boyfriend turn into a literally baby for the small dog.

Seeing that he was preoccupied, you leaned over to Doni.

“Is he here?”

Doni smiled down at you. “We can go get him.”

You turned to Charles. “Love, Doni is going to show me a new painting that he’s been working on. I’ll be right back.”

The only response you got was Charles kissing Mimi on the head and waving you off. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be mad because moments later, your hands were full of puppy. You clutched the blond dachshund into your chest.

“He’s perfect,” you whispered, kissing the puppy’s head lightly, earning a little yap in return. You and Doni returned to the bigger room, still finding Charles enamored with Mimi. You snorted at the sight.

“Charlie,” you said, gaining the Monegasque’s attention for a moment. The minutes Charles’s eyes were on you, he froze at the sight of the itty-bitty puppy in your arms. He set Mimi down immediately, but the bigger dachshund wasn’t offended.

Charles gingerly stepped over and his hands hovered over the little puppy in your arms. His eyes met yours, silently asking to hold the tiny thing. You rolled your eyes and you gently set the unnamed puppy in his hands.

The baby dachshund looked tiny in your arms, but now looked even tinier in Charles’s bigger hands. The Ferrari driver held the puppy up to his face and was met with a wet tongue against his nose. The giggles that resounded out of the grown man made you melt inside.

After the right amount of attention was given to the pup, Charles looked at Doni.

“What’s his name?” he asked his friend.

Doni smirked down at you.

“That’s for you to decide love.”

It was comical with how big Charles’s eyes got when he finally realized that the puppy in his hands was his (well, you two would share him). Tears even welled up in his green eyes, making them look incredibly glassy.

You cooed at the two while stepping closer to put your hand back on the puppy. The little thing yawned and snuggled deeper into Charles’s hand. His head whipped up so he could look at you.

“I’m never putting him down you know that right? I’ll make him a little pocket in my race suit and he’s going to go everywhere with me.”

You snorted. “I don’t think puppies are built to withstand the G’s baby, but I’ll keep him company in the garage. He’ll have Roscoe to play with next year too.”

Charles stopped listening after you had said “baby,” his brain melting. Now, he couldn’t stop thinking about a future with you and an actual baby. That made blood go to different places and he needed to stop thinking about that.

Doni had walked away for a moment and came back with a piece of paper.

“You think of a name superstar?” the man asked, pen poised to write.

Charles held the British-crème dog up to his face and looked into the boba-like brown eyes. He hummed as he put him back down at stomach level, still not wanting to put him down.

“Leo.”

Now that you snorted. “You’re going to name our son after your rival?”

Charles paled once he realized and stuttered as he tried to make up an excuse. “Non, it’s like the LEC logo. The ‘C’ looks like an ‘O’ if you squint.”

You laughed but nodded at the excuse. “Sure amore, sure. But I think Leo Leclerc suits him. Little baby.”

Doni also laughed as he wrote down Leo’s name. “More like Leo LeHandbag because I don’t think superstar is going to put him down anytime soon.”

You turned back to Charles, but the man was already crouched down next to Mimi, showing off Leo to the older dog. You facepalmed.

“I am dating a literally child. First an ice cream line and now this.”

Doni smiled. “He looks happy.”

You sighed in content. That’s all you had wanted to do since Suzuka: make Charles happy. You couldn’t bring back your brother, but you could offer small hopes to the man you loved so dearly. Your eyes widened when you looked at your watch.

“Love, we have to go. Your launch is in an hour and a half.”

Charles pouted. “We’re bringing him right?”

You smiled softly. “Yes, let’s bring our son.”

The two of you said your goodbyes to Doni before heading out. Charles still wanted to be the passenger so that he could hold onto Leo for longer, knowing that he’d have to give him back to you once the launch started.

“I still can’t believe you named him Leo after Max.”

“He is not named after Max.”

“Sure babe. It’s definitely not like Roscoe being named after Nico Rosberg.”

“Wait. Lewis names Roscoe after Rosberg?”

“Yes Charlie. But it’s ok. I can be second best to your work-wife.”

“Max is not my work-wife.”

“Whatever you say. Il Predestinato now has Il Pawdestinato.”

“HE WON IN SPA, HE WINS IN MONZA!”

“I swear Charles, I will take him back.”

“LEO LECLERC IS THE WINNER OF THE 2024 DOGGIE GRAND PRIX!”

“I’m dating a child.”

y/n_bianchi has posted

y/n_bianchi little Leo Leclerc ☀️

liked by charles_leclerc, lestappenlove, y/nxcharlie, and 4,204,096 others

leclerc_fam oh my gosh he's so cutieeeeeee

i_want_y/n do y'all need another one? cause I can bark 🗣

charliesangels STOP DID Y/N GET HIM A PUPPY AFTER SUZUKA????

lestappenlove not them naming Leo after a certain lion rival

brocedes2.0 reminds me of lewis naming Roscoe after Nico Rosberg

lecluv ice cream, a puppy, and a gorgeous girlfriend - Charles is living the life 😭

roscoelovescoco yous is goings to haves to brings him to the paddocks so I's cans meets new friend! ♥️

y/n_bianchi of course roscoe! I can babysit so the dads can do their thing 🏎💨

lewishamilton can't wait to meet the son!

charles_leclerc he'll be at Shanghai ☺️

roscoe&leo they're going to be the IT dogs of the paddock

leolovescharlie imagine having formula 1 driver Charles Leclerc and Ceo of a multimillion dollar company Y/n Bianchi as your parents

maxverstappen1 I like the name! 🦁

y/n_bianchi i told him that you'd say something

charles_leclerc HE IS NOT NAMED AFTER YOU

y/nxcharlie it's cat dad Max Verstappen vs dog dad Charles Leclerc

iamred_iamyellow choose your fighter

y/n_leclerc I'm just waiting for when y/n is going to show up with a ring

ferrari_fan when I saw I got that dawg in me, best know I'm talking about Leo

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