#mark is oscars second dad

[amirasainz]

Can u do an Oscar x driver!reader fic where she is meeting Oscar’s family for the first time and is really nervous but they got on really well xx ♥️

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 🧡

The Piastri family

It was a sunny morning in Melbourne, the kind of day that made everything feel a little too perfect. Yn adjusted her sunglasses nervously as Oscar maneuvered his car through the suburban streets toward his parents' house.

“You’re going to be fine,” Oscar said, glancing at her with a soft smile.

“I’m not so sure,” she muttered, her hands tightening on her lap.

Oscar chuckled. “Yn, they’re not going to interrogate you. They’re just excited to meet you.”

“That’s the problem. What if I say the wrong thing? What if they don’t like me?”

“They’re going to love you,” he said firmly, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “Besides, you’ve already won over Mark. My family isn’t half as intimidating as he can be.”

Yn snorted. “Mark doesn’t count. He’s a Red Bull guy. Of course, he likes me.”

Oscar smirked but didn’t argue. Instead, he pulled into a driveway and put the car in park. Yn’s stomach flipped.

“This is it,” he said gently.

The front door opened almost immediately, and Oscar’s mum, Nicole, stepped out, her face lighting up at the sight of them. Yn barely had time to unbuckle her seatbelt before Nicole rushed over and enveloped her in a hug.

“Yn! Oh, it’s so wonderful to finally meet you!” Nicole exclaimed.

Yn blinked, startled, but quickly hugged her back. “It’s so nice to meet you too, Nicole.”

Oscar was grinning as he grabbed their bags from the boot. “Told you,” he mouthed to Yn.

Nicole looped her arm around Yn’s and led her inside. “Come in, come in! Chris been dying to meet you too. He’s got a hundred questions about racing.”

Oscar laughed from behind them. “Mum, don’t scare her off.”

Nicole waved him off. “Nonsense. Yn’s a racer; she’s tougher than that.”

Yn smiled shyly, feeling some of the tension in her chest ease. Inside, the house smelled like fresh coffee and baked goods, and she could hear chatter from the living room.

“Yn!” Chris, Oscar’s dad, greeted warmly. He extended a hand, but Nicole swatted it away.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Chris. Give her a hug!”

Yn found herself laughing as Chris pulled her into a quick, slightly awkward hug. “It’s great to meet you,” he said sincerely. “We’ve been following your season, of course. Fantastic stuff.”

“Thank you,” Yn said, feeling her cheeks heat up.

“Right, right,” Chris continued, his enthusiasm bubbling over. “So tell me, how are you finding the car this year? Any big changes for Melbourne?”

Oscar groaned from the doorway. “Dad, at least let her sit down first.”

Chris chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Coffee first. Questions later.”

Yn exchanged a glance with Oscar, who winked at her before guiding her to the couch. She settled in, feeling more at ease as Nicole bustled around, offering snacks and drinks.

“Hey, mate,” came a familiar voice from the kitchen.

Yn turned to see Mark leaning casually against the counter, sipping a mug of coffee.

“Mark!” she said, standing to greet him.

“Yn,” he replied with a grin. “Good to see you.”

“Good to see you too. Wait, what are you doing here?”

Oscar rolled his eyes as he sat beside her. “It’s Mark. He’s always here.”

“Pretty much,” Mark admitted with a shrug. “I couldn’t miss the big introduction, could I?”

Yn laughed. “Fair enough.”

Nicole returned with a tray of drinks, setting them down on the coffee table. “Mark’s like part of the family. You’ll get used to it.”

Mark smirked. “I’m just here for the food.”

The conversation flowed easily after that. Nicole asked about Yn’s travels and how she balanced racing with everything else, while Chris peppered her with technical questions that she happily answered. Mark chimed in occasionally, sharing stories from his own career that had everyone laughing.

At one point, Oscar’s younger sister popped her head in from the backyard. “Yn, you have to see the purple kangaroo that keeps hopping around out here!”

Oscar groaned. “Not this kangaroo again.”

Yn grinned. “A purple kangaroo? I have to see this.”

The group moved to the back patio, where they spent the next hour chatting, laughing, and keeping an eye out for the infamous purple kangaroo. Yn couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so at home.

As the sun started to dip lower in the sky, Nicole wrapped an arm around Yn’s shoulders. “You’re part of the family now, Yn. There’s no escaping us.”

Yn felt a lump in her throat but managed to smile. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

Oscar watched the interaction with a soft expression, his heart full. Later, as they were leaving, he turned to Yn and took her hand.

“Told you they’d love you,” he said quietly.

Yn smiled, her earlier nerves now a distant memory. “Yeah, you did.”

“And for the record,” he added, leaning in close, “I think they’re right.”

[mywritersmind]

MARKS ON YOUR BODY - LN4||OP81

summary : In which it starts with strip poker and ends with questions about a specific hidden tattoo and some secret piercings. Or, Lando and Oscar are both hot for you and let you know it.

listen up : zakbrowndaughter!reader 18+ not fully smut but pretty suggestive (at least for me who doesn’t write smut lol) i’m blushing. STRIP POKER PHOTO INSPIRED!! tramp stamp and tits pierced??🙂‍↕️

words : 1425

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Alright Lan, You wanna stop?” Oscar eyes Lando who’s in pants only. The only way Lando would lose strip poker is if he distracted me too much with his body.

He laughs, “Fuck no!”

“Fuck yes.” I throw down my cards and yawn, “I’m bored of winning.” Oscar had so many pieces of outerwear that he’s lost multiple times but still is wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

Strip poker is my game apparently, maybe the possibility of the guys being naked fueled my fire.

“I swear you’re cheating.” Lando shakes his head.

Oscar’s laughing as I scoff, “I do not cheat! Just accept defeat, Norris.”

He leans against the table, “I’m not losing to you, Brown.”

“I think it’s too late for that, Lando.” Oscar fiddles with a card in his hand as I lean my head back. Apparently, my hair moves with me and Oscar’s brow shoots up, “You have a tattoo?”

I blink, “Uh yeah.”

“What!?” Lando practically screams, “Let’s see.”

I move back my hair to reveal the tattoo that’s behind my ear, it’s a tiny 8 for the number I grew up racing with. “That’s hot.” Lando nods as Oscar hits his arm, “I want to get a tattoo.”

“No you do not!” Oscar argues as Lando sends him a dirty look.

He turns back to me, his arms crossed against the table so his biceps pull my attention, “Did it hurt?”

I shrug, “Yeah, but some of my others hurt more.”

Lando’s jaw drops, “You have more? How did we not know this?”

I laugh again, “I hide them from my dad.”

“Really?” Oscar asks, seemingly surprised at my sneaky nature.

The corner of my mouth pulls upwards, “You wanna see the rest?”

His eyes are deep as he nods and taps the card against the table. “I’m assuming they’re easy to hide.”

I sigh and hook my finger to the bottom of my shirt, pulling it upwards. He's right, of course. All of my tattoos aren’t easily seen by my father.

I pull my shirt until I reach my sternum. Lando’s smile dulls as his eyes zero in on my skin, clearly not wanting to miss anything. I have a star design that goes in a line with little details around it.

Oscar leans his head back against the headrest, biting his lip and checking me out. I don’t think he’s ever looked hotter.

Lando’s hair is a mess but in the sort of attractive way that makes you want to pull it. The two of them are my greatest desire with bright orange caution tape put up by my father.

Zak Brown hates when I'm with the two of them, no matter which, he doesn’t trust me. But coming back from the FIA awards, they offered me a ride since we were all going back to england, so it was only polite to accept.

I drop my shirt and I swear I see Lando’s mouth fall into a frown. “Damn… didn’t know you went against daddy’s orders.”

I smirk, “He hates tattoos…Thinks they’re trashy. Which is ironic because...” I stop myself before I can go on, trailing off and grabbing my water to play it off.

“Because what?” Oscar asks.

“Um…” I don’t really know what to say and I feel quite overwhelmed with these two men staring at me.

“You have one more. Don’t you?” Oscar’s trying to hide his smirk but is shit at it. Lando looks to his teammate, then me.

“Now we have to see.” The curly haired man stretches his arm on the table, his muscles rippling and making me bite my lip.

“Okay.” I situate myself so I'm sitting on my feet. I pause, looking at both of them for a second. The whole thing is so oddly erotic and ridiculously hot.

I turn around in my seat, pulling down the back of my sweats ever so slightly so my tramp stamp is in view. I look over my shoulder to see their reactions because neither of them say a thing.

Oscar is staring, face blank and directed at my lower back. Lando’s mouth is open just the slightest bit, his arm draped over the back of Oscar’s seat. It’s not huge, just thin lines that make up a butterfly and some swirls to compliment it.

“Fuck.” Lando whispers, Oscar looks at him but doesn’t tell him to stop, just mumbles along with his friend. “Yeah.”

“You like it?” I know they do. I’m not blind.

The two are staring at me like i’m fucking edible and the way they look right now, I might be. “I’d be an idiot not to.” Oscar says as I turn back around, my shirt still pulled up and my hair to one side.

“I think this is the first time Lando’s been speechless.” I joke as his eyes meet mine again and his cheeks go pink. “Am I making you nervous, Norris?”

I expect him to roll his eyes or scoff, but he just breathes out and says, “You’re really hot, Y/n.”

“Can’t argue with him there.” Oscar wipes a hand over his mouth before tapping the table, “I wanna see it closer.”

I realize that he means he wants me to sit on the table. “Not even a please?” I tease but I'm already turning and setting myself down on it.

I’m about to adjust my pants but Lando’s hand does it for me. His skin is cold and holds my hip as his fingers dip below my waistband.

“Why a butterfly?” Oscar asks, leaning against the table to get a better look. I lean back and rest against my arms as they look.

“Thought it was cute.”

Oscar laughs a bit, “How often do you mark your body because it’s cute?”

Lando slides out of his seat, moving into mine so I'm facing him. He doesn’t even ask, just slides a hand onto my hip and another on my shirt, pulling it up to see my sternum.

Oscar switches with Lando so he’s now holding the back of my sweats. I let my eyes train down Lando’s chest… his abs… his arms. He’s fit as fuck and the way he was acting during strip poker, he knows it.

I go back to Oscar's question, realizing I got distracted by Lando in front of me. “Very often actually, piercings too.”

This prompts Lando to push my hair behind my ear, admiring my jewelry, “How many do you have?” He sounds almost out of breath.

“Twelve.” His fingers drift over my earrings, counting.

“You only have five on each, though.” As soon as Lando says it, I hear Oscar shift in his seat.

I don’t even wait for Lando to catch on, I just grab his wrist and have my shirt go up with his hand. Lando lets out a noise, close to a whimper.

He stares at my bare chest, the only thing on me is my jewelry decorating each nipple.

I hear Oscar stand, his hand gripping my hip tighten as he gets closer. He’s looking over my shoulder, I lean back a bit so he has a better view of my tits.

Lando’s hand is resting on my neck, pushing my shirt against my skin, I can feel his pulse beat faster under my fingertips.

Lando’s gaze shifts to Oscar as the brown eyed man stares back at him. I feel like they’re having some telepathic conversation that I can’t understand, until Oscar looks back at me.

His eyes are darker, the air filled with tension. As my eyes flick to Lando, I see his chest rise and fall. I get it now.

My hand slips to Oscar’s face, his jaw and cheek warm against my touch. I hesitate purely to see how his breath hitches, then I kiss him.

Lando swears as Oscar’s tongue dips into my mouth, he freezes between my legs. I break the kiss with Lando, hooking my leg around his waist to pull him in closer.

“Are you still nervous?” I whisper as Oscar moves his lips to my neck. Lando looks like he’s dreaming, his head turning side to side slowly as I smirk.

He kisses me, softer than Oscar at first but he becomes sloppier when I start being affected by Oscar attached to my neck.

The aussie mumbles against my skin, “This your end goal all along? Strip poker… tattoo tour… fuck?”

I lean my head back and laugh, “No. I guess I'm just lucky.”

[piastappies]

𝜗𝜚 𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝜗𝜚

⋆ pairing. oscar piastri x verstappen!reader

⋆ summary. falling in love has never been on your radar, but when the cute, quiet guy finds his place in your heart, you try to cherish the rare, yet beautifully domestic moments. that is, until you hit the four years together mark and realise that your family probably doesn’t know.

GROWING UP YOU WERE CONVINCED BY THE circumstances that being loved must be earned. you had never put any thought into that — it was just the things were, at least that’s how you were brought up. if you did something your parents didn’t like, you were given a cold shoulder and — from time to time — a silent treatment. as a teenager, you came up with a… pretty saddening conclusion that love wasn’t worth it in the end, so you simply avoided any kind of romantic relationships.

to be completely honest, it wasn’t a hard task. all you ever wanted since you entered the awkward phase of your life, when you could make your own decisions, one of which was leaving your household as soon as it was only possible.

you had departed from your home around the age of fourteen, after lots of begging to let you study abroad had taken place. you were the youngest out of the three. your brother was already in formula one, when you were wearing a plaid skirt, a merlot blazer with the school’s logo, a matching necktie and a few more things that made max and victoria call you a posh, british girl. you didn’t mind it, you were glad to be out of the house, slightly distancing yourself from your family overtime.

the day you met oscar took place on the day of your eighteenth birthday. you and some friends had gone out to celebrate not only your birthday, but also your acceptance to the king’s college in london, giving you an opportunity to pursue your dreams of becoming a doctor. you were yet to tell your family about it, having lied to them about the date, wanting to have this moment to yourself.

you went out to a few bars before ending up in a club as the girls secretly wanted you to find a guy to go home with, since the last year and a half you had been constantly overworking yourself to get into your dream university, (“you got the school in the bag, now get some lad to relieve the pressure”).

oscar had been racing in formula renault at the time, but ever since you left the netherlands, racing hadn’t been on your mind for a long time — it probably should, considering your big brother was two points behind kimi räikkönen last season, however you had a feeling as if racing was the reason you were so disconnected from your family. your dad was racing in formula one, your mom was karting, your brother has been racing in formula one as well, and your sister shared the interest, while the love for partaking in the sport never appeared in your heart.

your chest was slightly pressed against the countertop, smiling at the bartender with a drunken look in your eyes, while he was preparing your umpteenth jägerbomb. jesus christ, you really needed that break. the alcohol running through your veins was really hitting you already as your body couldn’t stay still even for a second — your hips swaying to the beat. that was until you looked around the place and your eyes landed on a boy your age. he was wearing a white, printless t-shirt that clung to his body, turning your quick look-around into a staring situation.

if sober, your thoughts would stay where they should — in your mind, however… you were far from being sober. the proper social etiquette you were taught over the years at your boarding school were long forgotten as you shamelessly ogled the boy. he was simply gorgeous, breathtaking some would say.

“gals, i think i just saw an angel sent from heaven just for me.” you announced, your tone causing your friends to chuckle in amusement. you sound like a person who thought they just invented a cure for cancer. “i need to throw myself at him.”

“oh my god.” aliyah, your roommate from school, laughed, throwing her head back. it was hilariously unexpected to hear you say a thing like that — the girls have heard you talk about the boys you had hooked up with before, even intoxicated, but never this. you had never been so… so not-you. “this-this is the funniest thing, like, ever.”

“which one?” inaya scrunched her brows as she looked around, searching for a guy who could fit her imagination of a guy you would call an angel. she groaned in disappointment, once you discreetly pointed in oscar’s direction. “a white guy? seriously, yn?”

“i can’t help it.” you muttered, your shoulders slumping as the alcohol intensified every single emotion you have felt during the night. “i wish he would have my baby. or like a thousand of them.” your sighed, dropping your hand to your stomach, while one of the girls bursted out laughing at the absurdity of your words.

inaya could easily recall the day before your acceptance letter came in and your speech to the group chat about romantic attraction, relationships, kids, and commitment, concluded with confidence (“i’m gonna be that one, successful aunt that hates kids, but not that one niece.”).

“they would look cute together, though.” priya giggled, stealing glances at your boy, as if she wanted to hit on him, too. then, the thought of priya with your boy disappeared from your mind at the image of your best friend and her long-time boyfriend. right, she and james had been together for the longest time. “you should shoot your–” the universe was not having the girl speak, because a guy, seemingly confident, approached your table.

“hey, i hope you’re having a good evening.” he started in a nice tone, the girl beside you — the last of the four, ciara, seemed to melt against your shoulder, looking at the boy with heart eyes. “sorry to bother you, girls. my friend, that one over there, thinks you’re really gorgeous and would love to get your number, but he’s a bit shy.” he joked, having pointed to oscar, turning the second part of his monologue to you.

before any of you could’ve responded to him, a guy — the same one you called an angel — walked up to the six of you, groaning when he realised that his friend already had done what he threatened to do. “jesus, arthur.” the blonde ran a hand over his face, groaning in exasperation.

“i’m so sorry for him.” he let out a small sigh. “i told him not to bother you, but he’s like a toddler.” he tried to explain, earning a few quiet chuckles from all of you.

“ah, there’s nothing to be sorry for.” priya grinned. “you two look like you haven’t had a drop of alcohol yet, maybe wanna join us?”

oscar wanted to refuse, out of courtesy — he didn’t really care about the embarrassment brought upon him by the monegasque, although the look on your face was making his heartbeat quicken. he’d never felt like this before, it was crazy. he just saw you for the first time and his mind was filled to the brim with small ideas to impress you that were supposed to be shoved away as he opened his mouth to politely refuse the invitation. arthur, however, had different plans and sat next to the ginger haired girl, who quickly engulfed him in a conversation.

looking at him so up close was almost a life-altering experience. for the first fifteen minutes you had to remind yourself to breathe, so enamoured with the boy sitting next to you. after that period, you got even more entranced with oscar. once he started his small conversation with you, you couldn’t help but hang onto every single word that left his lips.

you’ve never felt like this before, so interested in what a boy had to say to you. you forgot about the detail that, if it wasn’t a joke, oscar thought you were gorgeous and loved to have your number. the conversation with him was easy, you didn’t have to do anything special to prolong it, neither did he. by the time the watch on your phone was showing three in the morning, james had already picked priya, inaya and aliyah up, leaving you and ciara with the two boys. you went out to a club to have fun, drink, and dance a bit, but it all was thrown into oblivion once piastri started a conversation with you.

YOU COULD EASILY RECALL THE MOMENT YOU realised that life without oscar wasn’t what you’d ever want. it happened after a few weeks of constant texting, late-night calls and a bit less meetings at his/your place. at the tiniest thought of falling in love with him, your stomach started to hurt, because love wasn’t something you believed to have a happy ring to. your parents were divorced and they took it out on you and your siblings, sophie, your mom, wasn’t as bad as your dad, though.

oscar knew about your stance towards love, but took it upon himself to change it — and he suprisingly did. there wasn’t a thing oscar could do wrong to make you disappointed. despite the hectic schedule he had, you always spent at least ten minutes on the phone to just check in, which was the best part of your day most of the time.

medicine at king’s was killing you every day to the point, where once oscar was able to visit you, he had always made you something to eat, drew a bath for the two of you and took a nap with you. he never complained. for as long as he remembered, most of his days were fast paced — there were little to no slower moments in his life, so despite your insecurities that he must’ve hated you for being too exhausted to spend time with him, he liked just feeling your presence next to him.

your friends, despite the constant teasing, couldn’t be happier for you. you often denied yourself stuff that you probably should experience in life, as a result of growing up in a household where love was conditional. they knew that, it wasn’t a rare sight to see you crumble under pressure, before inevitably breaking down in front of them, so seeing you blossoming like that was not only refreshing, but also relieving.

you were starting your fourth year at the university, while oscar was in the middle of his first season of formula one. before the australian, you weren’t a fan, yet you couldn’t help but bawl your eyes out in pride and happiness, when oscar called you to tell you that he had signed with mclaren.

you had already known about the signing, when oscar came to your shared apartment later, so despite an upcoming test, you spent most of your free afternoon baking him a small cake to show him that his dreams are as important to you as they are to him. you definitely weren’t a great baker, but you tried your best and made a small, lemon flavoured cake with a light, orange-ish congratulations, formula one driver on top.

“baby, i’m home.” your boyfriend called out, entering the apartment as he was taking off his shoes, placing them on a shoe stand. you smiled to yourself at the sound of his voice, head turning to look at him. his hair disheveled, a stubble on his chin, and a slight hint of tiredness in his eyes that seemed to disappear once his gaze fell onto you.

“hey.” you replied as oscar approached you, sneaking his arm around your waist and placing a soft kiss on your lips. “i made you something.” you whispered, tilting your chin to have a better view of his face.

“yeah?” he asked, intrigued. “what did you make?”

“i baked a cake.” you nodded, almost as if it was something you did every other day. “because my boyfriend is officially a formula one driver. i’m super proud of you, you know? and it’s mclaren, too!” you added, a beam creeping up on your lips, your hands cupping his cheeks as you pressed lots and lots of light kisses against his entire face.

a chuckle rumbled in his throat at your silly display of affection, pulling you closer with ease. “i still can’t believe it.” he smiled in between the smooches. “i couldn’t have done it without you.” his voice dropped to a whisper laced with sincerity.

“ah, this is simply bullshit.” you responded, scrunching your nose. “you’re a great driver, baby. you would’ve done it anyway.” you matched the quietness of his tone, bringing your hand to run your fingers through his messy blond hair. “everyone knows that, especially zak and andreas.”

“you did help, though.” he muttered, relishing the feeling of your fingers in his hair. “you keep me sane.” his words earned him a quiet giggle from you. you tilted your head to the side, shaking it lightly, pulling him into a kiss.

it started off slowly and gently, now both of oscar’s arms wrapped around your waist, caging you into his loving embrace. before you knew it, his hands were squeezing your sides, sitting you on the kitchen counter, his body pressing against yours as your lips moved in sync. the pent up stress, pressure and exhaustion slowly dissolving, oscar’s stiff shoulders loosening as your fingers tugged on a strand of his hair.

his tongue has moved past your lips, when you heard a sound, making the two of you pull away from each other in reluctance. oscar’s mom often texted him, when you were either making out on the couch or having sex, almost as if she had a hunch about what the two of you were doing. as a result, you came up with a system that whose phone would go off and interrupt you, the person would have to do something in return for the other one. despite the annoyance of being interrupted, you beamed, knowing that it couldn’t be your phone. that was, until you noticed the smirk creeping up on your boyfriend’s face.

“not mine.”

a loud groan rumbled in your throat, unhappy with the result as oscar passed you your phone from the table. you let out a dutch curse word under your breath, noticing the contact’s name on the notification.

max.

you haven’t spoken to your brother since the end of that year’s season, when you called to congratulate him on his second title. making so much distance between you and your family ever since you were fourteen and in a boarding school was hunting you now. no one from your family knew about your relationship with oscar, despite being together since mid-july 2019. you didn’t want to change it, not because you were ashamed of oscar — that, you could never be — but because you were afraid it would ruin everything between the two of you, and deep down inside you, you knew that your heart would shatter into pieces if that ever happened.

oscar understood where you were coming from, he knew how much of an outcast you considered yourself to be as a kid, and how much work you put into getting away from the town you grew up in. he didn’t mind that he didn’t officially met your blood family, he knew that the friends you went to school with were closer to you and at that time of your life mattered more, so he couldn’t complain, knowing that this family accepted and liked him. your mood significantly dropped, oscar’s hand gently squeezing your thigh for some reassurance, nodding silently, a way of saying that you should call your brother back.

some people would say that your boyfriend was the reason behind the poor connection between you and your siblings, but he was actually the one, who often — subconsciously — made you reply to their texts and calls more, or even calling them yourselves to just check in as you often sent gifts to your two nephews and penelope. although you thought that it was too late to repair the relationship with max and victoria, oscar always told you that it’s nonsense (and he was, indeed, right).

“hey, sorry, i was studying. a cardiology exam coming up soon.” you explained as your brother picked up the call, your voice slightly sheepish as you avoided your boyfriend’s look.

“in december?” max asked. “i was calling to ask if you’re coming back for christmas?”

you sighed softly at the question, knowing that your reaction would probably upset your brother, which you didn’t want to happen.

“uh.” you started. “i–i’m not sure, yet.” an incoherent mumble came from the other side of the line, as you started to pick on the skin of your bottom lip. “i think i am, but not for too long. i have an early flight on the twenty seventh.”

you could see the smile rising on oscar’s lips upon your answer, you were conflicted whether or not you should go back. you missed your brother, sister and mom, but coming home always resulted in your sour mood and not-too-great memories from each year as you always ended up fighting with your dad over something insignificant that made you come back to london sooner than planned. this time, you were supposed to lay down the boundaries and try to have a good time, before flying to melbourne to spend some time with the piastris.

“it would mean a lot to all of us to see you.” max replied in a gentle tone, not wanting to accidentally guilt trip you into coming. “we miss spending time with you, yn.”

“i know, i’m sorry.” your voice broke, sadness washing over your body as you ran a hand down your face to stop yourself from getting too upset. it’s your boyfriend’s big day, you shouldn’t be crying over your familial situation, when it was such a happy day for him.

“i miss you all too.” you whispered, piastri’s hand gently moved up and down your thigh in a soothing mood, helping you calm down a bit. despite not understanding a thing you said since the conversation was held in dutch, he could tell that you were getting upset and it worried him. “i’m gonna be there, okay?”

DESPITE YOUR MOM’S QUESTION UPON YOUR relationship status during last year’s christmas, you didn’t drop a clue whether or not you were dating someone. you felt secure in your relationship with oscar, you didn’t want to jinx it. you started therapy just a few months earlier, but the anxiety to get past this awful feeling of revealing your boyfriend to your family was too much to do yet. you definitely wouldn’t do it without him by his side, and not when your father was around.

throughout the months of 2023, your relations with your mom, max, and victoria had improved significantly, which you were grateful for. by may, victoria’s oldest son, luka, considered you to be his favorite auntie and you really, really liked that feeling.

oscar noticed that you started to come out of your protective shell and he couldn’t be prouder of you. it was around summer break, when you decided that this year, you’d break it down to your family, no more avoiding the conversation you dreaded, but before — you would spend the summer break with your boyfriend in melbourne.

oscar, as usually on his days off, was still fast asleep, when you tried to get out of his grip in the morning. his arm had almost caged you to his side, but somehow — after fifteen minutes of trying to come up with an idea to get away without waking him up, you succeeded.

nicole was already seated at the couch with two steaming cups of coffee in front of her, almost as if she was waiting for you, which you knew she was. it was slowly becoming a little tradition you had with your boyfriend’s mom, you two would sit on the couch in their living room, casually chatting about something, while a movie played on the television in the background to your chatter.

“oscar’s still asleep, love?” she asked in a soft, yet chirpy tone as she noticed you walking down the stairs. your hair was still a bit messy, but nevertheless you looked gorgeous.

“yeah.” a chuckle escaped your lips as you took a seat next to her, taking the mug into your hands. “we stayed up watching a movie last night, apparently i had missed out on the magnificence of david fincher’s filmography.” nicole giggled, shaking her head.

“ah, yes. we’ve been through that, too.” she smiled, taking a sip of her coffee. “so, i’ve heard from hattie that you’re planning on going to suzuka with oscar. that’s, hm… how did she call it? a hard launch, right?” you smiled softly, nodding your head at her question.

throughout your entire relationship with the oldest piastri’s kid, you have been to few races, most of them being his formula renault and three ones, when the schedule didn’t overlap with any of your exams. during his first season in formula one, you were only at silverstone, but as a guest of max, making your first appearance in paddock since you were a baby. this time, you’d be there not as max verstappen’s younger sister, dressed in a red-bull jacket with your brother’s number on the back, but as oscar piastri’s girlfriend.

“that’s true, i’m really excited.” nicole’s warm smile upon hearing your response made you feel even more sure that you were making a good decision. “it’s gonna be my last year at king’s, and i really hope i’ll be able to come to more races to support him. i don’t want oscar to feel like i don’t care about his dreams or achievements.”

“i’m sure he doesn’t feel like that, love.” she reassured, reaching out to squeeze your hand with a slight nod. “you still haven’t told your family, have you?” nicole asked, her head tilted to the side in curiosity and empathy.

she was aware of your bumpy relationship with your family, so it wasn’t a surprise she’d asked that. you feared that oscar’s relatives would think you didn’t take him seriously, and even if they did, they never showed it.

“i want to.” you spoke quietly, having taken a sip of the drink in your hands. “it’s been going on for too long and i’m fully aware of that. i can’t see myself without your son, he’s… he’s probably the, uh, the best thing that ever happened to me.” the genuineness of your words was painfully evident. “i just want them to see that, i wouldn’t be the person i am without him. i’m also just… a bit scared of their reaction. i don’t want to hurt them.”

“i’m gonna be frank with you, love. i think they will be slightly hurt that you haven’t told them about oscar earlier.” nicole started, giving you a look full of compassion. “but you did say that they weren’t insisting on staying in touch with you as much as they do now, your relationship hasn’t been as good as it is right now, so after the initial shock, i think they’re gonna understand why you haven’t told them earlier.”

“thank you for saying that, nicole.” you replied softly, smiling at her with gratitude. “it gives me a bit of hope that things won’t go so bad.”

oscar got down an hour or so later, looking like he had just woken up, what was probably the truth. you’ve had a hunch that he would’ve woken soon, so you started preparing something for him to eat before he had to head out for his usual jog (which he skipped yesterday). his arms sneaked around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest, while nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

you giggled at the sensation of his light stubble against your skin, when he pressed a few lazy kisses along your neck. “g’morning, baby.” he muttered, his voice still having that rought, just-woken-up ring to it. his slightly cold hands moved beneath your shirt, gently caressing your stomach, causing you to shiver at the contact. “what d’you gossip about with mom today?” he asked, continuing with his antics.

“ah, just stuff, love.” you replied, nicole’s petnames rubbing off on you. “edie with a friend will stay at ours before the summer break ends.” you mentioned his younger sister’s plan to come see london and all you got in a response was a soft hum.

“cool, cool.” oscar mumbled a few seconds later, teeth grazing the sensitive spot on your neck, making you bit back a moan. the corners of his mouth turned into a smirk at your reaction.

“ah, fuck off, lad.” a giggle escaped your lips as you turned to face him, having finished preparing some scrambled eggs for the two of you. “go eat, i promised max i’d call him.” after oscar stole a sweet and slow kiss from you, he sat down at the table, shamelessly watching you as you called your brother.

he knew that the situation was better, but he wanted to notice the tiny changes in your expression to comfort you within seconds. he probably wouldn’t understand too much of what you’d say, but before the season started, he’s began thinking about putting a ring on your finger one day, and proposing in dutch sounded like a good idea, so… he started learning on his own, just to be able to surprise you, but also show your family that he cared about the possible language barrier.

“hey, penelope.” you smiled as the four years old girl greeted you after picking up max’s phone. “could you please give me max?” from what you’ve known, max and kelly went to see her family in brazil, so hearing that p wasn’t asleep, wasn’t a surprise.

you could’ve heared ruffling on the other side of the call, before your brother’s voice rang in your ears. “sorry, i was outside.” he apologised. “p said you wanted to talk, everything alright?”

“yeah, everything’s alright.” you smiled at the hint of concern in his voice. “just wanted to ask when you’re flying back to monaco.” you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“ah, around next week, i think. not sure though, why?”

“just… uh,” you looked over at oscar and smiled to yourself. “i just wanted you to meet someone. think you could make a quick stop in london before monaco?”

you could’ve heard max stiffle a small gasp and it made you want to laugh. they thought you’d never find someone, didn’t they? after looking at your nails, you turned your gaze to oscar, whose eyes were still watching you carefully. it was so endearing to see your boyfriend like that, so protective over you. you knew you made a good choice of not pushing him away, oscar must be your soulmate, there’s no other way. you sent him a small wink as you awaited max’s reply.

“someone?” he repeated the word. “as in friend? a boyfriend? god, i never thought i’d live to that day. he’s not fifty or something, right?” this time, you couldn’t hold back the laugh. piastri smiled at the reaction, actually relieved that you weren’t getting upset. he’s never seen you talk to jos, but he knew if that happened on his watch, the entire evening, day or week would be spend on comforting the shit out of you.

“what? no, jesus, you’re quite ridiculous.” you shook your head, a smile still present on your lips. “he’s my age, you idiot.” you rolled your eyes playfully, despite max couldn’t see you.

“but he’s good for you?” max asked for reassurance that you weren’t getting into a relationship, which would end up hurting you more than anything else. “he doesn’t hurt you, or anything? and you’re sure he’s your age? that doesn’t go well with your daddy issues.”

“i’m gonna pretend like i didn’t hear that last bit.” you joked, sitting down at the table next to oscar, taking his hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. “he’s super good for me. wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

the reasoning behind telling max before the summer break would end was simple, you didn’t want the information to mess with his performance, but also so he wouldn’t try and run your boyfriend off the track, or crash into him in a rush of emotions.

“alright, tell him to better treat my sister right or i’ll run him over with my car.”

OSCAR WAS TRYING TO CALM YOU DOWN AS YOU paced around your shared apartment, a few days after the conversation you had with your brother. your brother, who was on his way from the heathrow airport to your home.

“baby, it’s gon’ be alright.” he whispered, leaning close to your ear as he cupped your face in his hands, having brushing his nose against yours a few times affectionately. “max won’t sacrifice his relationship with you, solely because you haven’t told him about us. he’s gonna have to understand, alright? don’t stress out.” his thumb moved against the skin of your cheeks, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“you think so?” you asked, meeting his gaze as a small pout appeared on your lips.

“i know so, baby.” he soothed, trying to put your mind at ease, remembering how much hassle the situation had put on your shoulders, having heard you empty your stomach in the morning, when your phone went off once max had texted you that they have just arrived in london.

fourty minutes later, oscar was calling the security guard to let max, kelly, and penelope inside the building. the australian went back to the living room as you had planned beforehand, when you agreed on inviting them to your apartment.

“auntie yn!” penelope smiled, throwing herself at you. you swiftly picked her up, masking the shakiness of your hands. “maxie said you have a boyfrieeeend.” she singsonged with a beam on her face. you could swear to god that in that moment you’d heard the faint sound of oscar’s laughter.

“max.” you gave your brother a look, while he just shrugged unbashedly. “what? it’s true isn’t it? where is that brit of yours?”

“he’s not british.” this time, max gave you a look that said he was confused, while you just shrugged, waving your hand at the three of them, before leading them to the living room. penelope noticed oscar first and murmured to you that he looked really pretty, a warm sensation spreading in your stomach, when the pretty boy smiled at you. the oldest verstappen might get angry or feel hurt, but at the end of the day, no one could do anything to break the two of you apart. you’d chain yourself to the aussie if it was necessary.

“wha— oscar?” max’s mouth fell agape as he took in the sight of your boyfriend, who gave him a tiny, sheepish smile. “hold on a second, what?” he repeated, puting a strong emphasis on the last word.

you weren’t sure if it was inappropriate for you to scoot a bit closer to your boyfriend, leaning against his side as your older brother tried to stomach the fact that the reason behind your often trips to australia was his on-track rival.

“but you were with kelly at the silverstone, not leaving her side at all?” his confusion was messing with your anxiety and you had to do your best to stiffle the laugh bubbling up in your throat.

“yeah, um… we didn’t met at silverstone.” it was oscar’s time to speak up as the bits of contact between you made him more relaxed. “we… have been already dating back then.” piastri explained calmly, his arm going around your shoulders to bring you even closer.

“so that’s why you cried!” kelly smiled at you as your cheeks flushed bright red.

silverstone was oscar’s best finish in formula one so far and seeing him end up almost on podium had melted your heart as you broke down in the red-bull garage. when kelly asked you what made you so emotional, you slipped a small lie, saying that it was because max earned another grand slam.

“you cried?” oscar asked quietly, his heart swelled with love.

“she had a full on mental breakdown.” piquet joked, your cheeks had turned its color from bright red to crimson. it was nothing to be embarrassed about, you loved your boyfriend with all your heart, you couldn’t help but be proud of him for almost every day since you got together. although, he wasn’t supposed to know about your little breakdown.

“i didn’t know about that.” oscar teased you a little, gently pinching your side.

“wait, because i still don’t understand. you were already dating at silverstone, when did you-did you start, then?” the red bull, who — rightfully — couldn’t wrap his head around the possibility that what you were doing right now, wasn’t a silly prank or tiktok of some sort, and you and oscar were actually together.

you opened your mouth to tell him the range of your anniversary, when oscar, like he was aked about it every other day, responded with; “eleventh of july, 2019.”

“fucking four years?” max asked, his eyes widening at the revelation. “four years and you didn’t tell?”

“i was scared that telling one of you would lead to telling dad, and i didn’t want him to say something that would ruin what we have.” your voice dropped insignificantly, oscar’s arm around your body tightening in compassion. “he’s been my rock, i didn’t want to risk losing oscar.”

your brother’s face softened upon hearing the explanation and just smiled. “i’m not taking what i said back. you better treat her right, or i’ll run you over with my car — on or off track.”

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ yourname . . . at melbourne! dec 28th, 2026

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, inaya66 and 67 218 others.

yourname met this muppet in a bar after years of not believing in love (definitely not at the first sight), overworking myself and worrying all my friends that if i get into my dream university, i’ll have no energy to push forward. took me one glimpse of him (and a jägerbomb) to realise that i need to walk up and talk to him. big thanks to arthur_leclerc for walking up to us and trying to embarrass him.

no one could ever make me as happy as you. not enough words, papers and ink to describe even the quarter of love i have for you, two times world champion. seven years and more to come. thank you for showing me that love can be unconditional and that with you next to me, everything is possible.

(ps. a small sneak peak of one significant bean with us to come through life together xx)

comments on this post have been restricted. view all!

oscarpiastri happiest seven years of my life. nothing compares to the feeling when i’m with you xx

yourname stop cutting the onions (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

inaya66 couldn’t be happier for the two of you ☹️

ciarrrra thats a lot coming from u considering u didnt like oscar

aliyahbilal i wanna be you when i grow up

arthur_leclerc safe to say i’m gonna be the best man?? 😝

oscarpiastri don’t push it

arthur_leclerc i made you two possible

ciarrrra baby… she was on her way to him when u walked up to us…

oscarpiastri so WE kind of made u 2 possible :p

maxverstappen1 stop posting sappy stuff, and get here already bean misses her favorite uncle xx

landonorris yeah n you’re not the one

charles_leclerc boys… i have a dog u really think u stand a chance

yourname that’s really sweet that u think u ever stood a chance with alex, jack, and james…

maxverstappen1 over her own blood??

yourname stop shaming my daughter for her choices old guy

sebastianvettel lots of love and happiness to your little family

ciarrrra sign me up for babysitter duty pleaseeee i miss my beanie ☹️

aliyahbilal nooo me me me need to catch up on those nursery gossips with my bestie!!!

victoriaverstappen can’t wait to see you guys 🫶🫶 hailey misses her bestie

mclaren we are always told things last ☹️☹️☹️

yourname you know it’s not true admin why do you lie 🙁🙁

hattiepiastri best soon to be sil 🥳🥳🥳

yourname whats with you piastris and making me cry today!!!

nicolepiastri love you both lots xx

jackdoohan i’m the favorite?? need to come over with gifts asap🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

fin.

author’s notes! super hyped to post this fic 🥹 it’s honestly my baby that i’ve been working on and thinking about it 24/7 (even when i was supposed to be studying LMAO) huge shoutout to my whatsapp girlies esp catalina and sonny!!!! this is kinda not proofread so if u saw any mistakes (which definitely were there) pretend like u didnt 😝😝 part two with domestic dad!oscar and uncle!grid?? lemme know whatchu think <3 requests r open btw!!

[pitlanepeach]

Radio Silence | Chapter Fifteen

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren’t quirks, they’re survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, rising tension (not between Amelia and Lando), a lot of Oscar!!!!!

Notes — Bit longer than usual! I wanted to cover 3 races per chapter, but it's not worked out that way. So we're covering Bahrain and pre-Imola. This is going to be a long 2021 season, so... yeah, get ready for a lot of chapters lmao.

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! — Peach x

2021 

Bahrain

Amelia perched at the edge of a padded hospitality seat overlooking the circuit, knees tucked up slightly, elbows resting on them. The sun cast sharp glints off the tarmac as the F2 grid wound their way through the formation lap, engines whining as they lined up. Her gaze didn’t waver, eyes narrowed into thoughtful slits, tracking each car with sharp precision.

She’d missed the first sprint race that morning, buried in set-up notes with Max, buried in everything Max in general, really, but she’d made sure to find time for this one. 

Her eyes followed car number 81 as it weaved through the final corner. Oscar. 

She wasn’t quite sure what it was that had snagged her interest after watching her first F3 race with Max, only that it had. And now she was here, legs bouncing with unconcealed energy, eyes fixed on one driver who rose above the sea of talent. 

A shadow cast itself across her legs.

She looked up.

Mark Webber. A polite smile, hands in his pockets like he’d been waiting for her to notice him.

“Do Red Bull usually start sniffing around this early?” He asked, one eyebrow raised. 

Amelia tilted her head slightly. “I don’t work for Red Bull anymore.”

Mark’s eyebrows rose a touch. “No?”

“No,” she said. “Just Max.”

He hummed, shifting his weight. “Alright… it’s a personal interest in my Oscar, then?”

She hesitated for a beat. “It’s… I don’t know. He’s very good. Talented.” 

Mark studied her for a long moment. She wasn’t smiling. She wasn’t playing politics. That was what made her so bloody difficult to read. “Well, whatever you’re seeing,” he said eventually, “he’s locked into Alpine. Long-term. Management contract’s done. They’ve promised him a seat in 2023.”

Amelia didn’t react at first. She simply nodded, eyes back on the track as the lights began to count down. But something flickered behind her expression, something uncertain.

She’d been to the Alpine garage. She knew how things felt there. Knew what Fernando had told her over coffee and biscuits. The uncertain politics. The disorganisation. The fractured attention span of a team trying to be four things at once and pulling in opposite directions. It didn’t sit right.

But she didn’t say any of that.

She just said, “Okay.”

Mark nodded. “Thought you’d want to know.”

She offered him a small nod in return, and then turned her eyes back to the track as the five lights went out. 

Oscar’s launch was perfect.

Of course it was.

— 

Lando was sitting on a low wall just outside the McLaren motorhome, nursing a smoothie and checking scrolling through Instagram when someone stepped into his peripheral vision.

He glanced up to see Mark Webber standing in front of him, arms folded, an unreadable expression on his face. “Uh. Hey,” Lando said slowly, slightly weary, wondering if he’d done something to accidentally pissed him off. 

Mark nodded at him once. “Got a question for you.”

Lando blinked. “Okay?”

“Why is your girlfriend obsessed with Oscar?”

Lando stared. “What?” he said eventually, like the words had taken a full second to download.

“Oscar Piastri,” Mark repeated, tilting his head toward the mini F2 paddock. “Your girlfriend. Amelia. She’s been watching him like a hawk all weekend. I thought she might be there on Red Bull’s behalf, but no.” 

Lando blinked again, processing. Then he laughed. “Oh! Oh, Oscar. Yeah.” He nodded, shaking his head with a fond grin. “She’s, like, imprinted on him or something.”

Mark stared. “She’s what.”

“You know. Like a duckling.” Lando made a vague motion with his hand. “It’s harmless. She gets like this sometimes. Sees someone drive well and suddenly she’s emotionally invested in their entire career trajectory.”

Mark looked at him like he’d grown a second head.

“She was like that with Nyck for a bit,” Lando added helpfully. “And Latifi for exactly one afternoon, until he missed an easy breaking zone.”

“...Right.” Mark said. 

“Honestly, it’s kind of sweet,” Lando shrugged. “Means she cares. She’s not gonna steal him from you or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not worried,” Mark said, slowly and clearly. “I’m confused.”

“You’ve just gotta learn to roll with it,” Lando grinned, sipping his smoothie again like the conversation was over.

Mark just stood there for a moment longer, processing the oddity of it all, before muttering something under his breath and walking away.

—

iMessage — 1:40pm

Lando Norris Mark Webber is very concerned Am I supposed to be jealous of this Oscar bloke 

The reply came almost instantly.

Amelia He has perfect apex management Do you think if I go and talk to him he’ll let me critique him

Lando Norris PLEASE go and critique the baby driver. I’m sure he’ll love that

He shoved his phone back in his pocket, still grinning. 

Oscar Piastri, whether he knew it or not, had just gained the most intense silent sponsor in all of Formula 1.

— 

Oscar had just unclipped his helmet when he heard someone clear their throat behind him.

He turned, still half in his overalls, hair damp with sweat, and found himself face-to-face with a vaguely familiar woman who was wearing a white skirt, a T-Shirt with a lion and the number 33 on it, and sneakers that looked like they had a smudge of orange marker on the side. She also had a clipboard tucked under one arm, dark sunglasses pushed up into her hair, and an unreadable expression fixed on her face.

"Uh—hi?" he offered, polite and cautious.

"You're Oscar Piastri," she said, more like a statement than a question.

He blinked. “Yeah…?”

She nodded once, then added, "You braked too late into Turn 4. Could’ve gained three tenths if you’d taken a wider entry and stayed tighter on exit. But your apex work in Sector 3 was perfect."

Oscar stared at her. “I—thanks?”

Amelia tilted her head slightly. “You’re consistent. Calm under pressure. Don’t overcorrect. You keep your steering inputs clean, which is rare for a driver at this level.”

“…Okay.”

“And you’re doing that in a car that under-rotates on entry. That’s even more impressive.”

Oscar looked around as if someone might confirm whether this was real, if anyone else was seeing this happen. “Are you… scouting me or something? My manager—”

“No,” she said flatly. 

“Oh.” He said. There was a pause. “Right,” he said again, more awkward now. “Cool.”

Amelia squinted at him. “Have you spoken to your engineers about your differential settings? You’re losing too much on cold tyres, especially first lap out of the pits.”

Oscar rubbed the back of his neck. “I—I guess I could mention that. I mean, I didn’t think—"

“You should.” She told him. 

Another pause. “…Who are you, exactly?” He asked on a wince. 

She smiled at him. “Amelia Brown. I work with Max Verstappen.”

Oscar’s eyes went comically wide. “Oh. Oh. I knew I recognised you.”

She nodded, glanced at her clipboard. “You’re fast.” 

Oscar opened his mouth. Closed it again. Then said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She shrugged. And with that, she turned on her heel and walked off toward the Red Bull garages, clipboard swinging at her side.

Oscar stood there for another full thirty seconds before one of his engineers passed him and said, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I just— yeah. Hey, can who should I talk to about my differential settings?” 

— 

Oscar was adjusting the straps of his shoes when someone nudged his elbow.

He looked up and nearly choked on his own spit.

“Hey,” Lando Norris said, all cheeky grin and casual posture. “You Oscar?”

Oscar scrambled to stand properly, knocking into the side of the pit wall in the process. “Yeah! Uh—yeah. I mean—yeah, I’m Oscar. Piastri. You’re—uh. Obviously.”

Lando chuckled. “Relax, mate. Just wanted to say good luck in the feature. Great win yesterday.”

“Thanks,” Oscar managed, ears already starting to go pink. “It’s… really cool to meet you.”

Lando grinned wider. “Appreciate it. My girlfriend’s actually the big fan.”

Oscar blinked. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Lando said, folding his arms. “She’s a bit obsessed with you.”

Oscar’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “Uh… what?”

Lando held back a laugh. “Not like that. Jesus. No, look, Amelia. That’s my girlfriend.” 

Oscar’s brain stalled for a full second. “…Oh. I knew that, I think.”

“Yeah,” Lando nodded. “Look, she’s mostly with Max on race weekends, but if you spot her lingering around your garage, don’t freak out. She’s just… a bit fixated at the minute. It’ll pass.”

Oscar straightened a little, finally finding his footing. “I’m not freaked out. I mean—it’s kind of nice, actually. Having someone that smart in my corner.”

Lando’s smile softened. “Helpful, ain’t it?”

Oscar nodded.

“Shame she’s Max’s on race weekends,” Lando added dryly, nudging Oscar with his elbow. “But she’s mine the rest of the time, so I win.”

Oscar laughed, a little awkward but genuine. “Tell her thanks for the advice, by the way. Make some adjustments and I’ve already noticed a difference.”

“I will,” Lando said, already turning to leave. “Don’t let her scare you too much.”

“No promises,” Oscar muttered under his breath.

— 

Lando sat on the edge of the halo, half in his car, helmet perched on the shelf behind him. He was tapping one foot, not even aware he was doing it, gaze flicking back and forth between the screens in front of him.

Then he looked up; felt her before he saw her.

Amelia ducked in under the divider flap like she’d done a hundred times. One of the engineers gave her a small nod of hello, and no one moved to stop her. 

Lando stood up automatically.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just reached up, smoothing a wrinkle in the sleeve of his fireproofs, adjusting the zip at his collar. The kind of quiet, grounding touch that could settle a world spinning too fast.

Then, softly, “I love you. Do well. Be safe.”

He leaned down, and she kissed him; gentle and steady and just long enough to make his knees threaten to go out from under him.

When they pulled apart, Lando’s grin was crooked and dazed. “Love you.”

“I know,” she said, brushing her thumb across his jaw.

—

The Red Bull garage was settling into that uniquely pre-race stillness; that suspended hum of controlled chaos. Final checks. Monitors flickering. Tyre blankets off. Nothing wasted, not a second nor a movement.

Max sat low in the cockpit of the RB16B, suit zipped, gloves halfway on, helmet resting beside him. His eyes were locked forward, watching but not really seeing the telemetry screen across from him.

GP crouched at his side, tablet balanced against his knee. “Steering feedback still alright after FP3?”

“Yeah,” Max said, barely blinking. “No pull on the straights anymore.”

“Rear end?”

“Still twitchy through ten,” Max replied. “It’s subtle, but it’s there. I’m having to correct.”

GP nodded, tapping the screen. “We can tweak the diff map slightly, smooth it out mid-corner.”

Max didn’t answer immediately, just flexed his fingers inside the glove.

Footsteps approached, steady and unhurried.

Amelia.

She didn’t need to say anything; Max’s head turned the second she appeared at the edge of the garage. She had a MV33 jacket thrown loosely over her shoulders, a data sheet in one hand, iPad in the other. Her hair was pulled back in a messy clip, sunglasses on her head despite the garage shadows, and ear defenders around her neck. 

“Steering sorted?” she asked, skipping hello.

Max nodded. “Almost. GP’s dialling it in.”

GP gave her a glance over his tablet. “You here to give me more setup notes?”

“No,” she said dryly, flipping her iPad around and showing Max a highlighted map of sector times. “You’re a tenth down in sector two. Get that under control.”

Max took the tablet from her, scanning. “Shit. I can sort that, yeah.”

“I know you can. You shouldn’t be struggling on that part of the track in the first place.”

GP snorted. Max handed it back with a smirk.

Amelia took a step closer, arms folded now, eyes flicking over Max’s face. She tilted her head. “You nervous?”

He looked at her for a moment, like he wanted to say no. Then he just nodded once. “A little.”

Amelia didn’t flinch. “Good. You should be. You’re about to start a season-long war with a seven-time world champion.”

GP side-eyed her. “Amelia.” He warned quietly. 

She ignored him, eyes firmly on Max. “Just remember, you have the car. You have the talent. Just put it all together.” 

He glanced up at her then. Her expression hadn’t shifted; calm, focused, familiar. Grounding.

GP looked between them and stood up, giving them space. “I’ll give you two a minute. Don’t let him spiral,” he added, aiming that at Amelia.

“I’m the one who built the spiral,” she muttered.

Max breathed out a quiet laugh.

Then Amelia broke the silence. “I’ll be at pit wall with GP during the race. Nothing else I can do with the car until afterwards anyway. Don’t fuck it up, trust the strategy.”

“I’ll try.”

As she turned to walk out, Max called after her. “Amelia?”

She glanced back.

“If I can’t—”

“You can,” she cut in, with the blunt certainty of someone who refused to consider any other possibility.

Max blinked once. Then nodded. 

GP returned with the headset. “You alright now?”

Max exhaled, fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “Yeah.”

—

The lights went out, and the grid thundered into motion. 

Amelia flinched slightly at the roar. Twenty cars launched toward Turn 1, and already her eyes were scanning; Max on pole, Lando P9. A clean start. Good. Clean was all she could ever ask for.

Max’s start was near-perfect; no wheel-spin, held the lead into the first corner. But Lewis was there. Always there. Breathing down his neck like more of an inevitability than a challenge.

Her stomach flipped.

Lap 5. Max radioed about rear grip. She already knew. She could see it in his lines, a little hesitation through Turn 10, just a touch of overcorrection. She scribbled something on her iPad, handed it off to GP without a word, let him relay the information to Max.

On the screen, she watched Lando pick off Charles. Nice. Brave. She smiled softly.

Lap 13. Bottas boxed. Mercedes going aggressive. Amelia tapped her fingers against her thigh.

Lap 14. “Box, Max. Box now.”

The pit stop was clean. Not the fastest, but smooth. Max rejoined behind Hamilton. The chase began.

Lap 28. She was quiet now, arms crossed. Watching Lewis manage his tyres like some kind of magician, Max clawing back the delta. 

Lap 31. Lando passed Daniel. Amelia’s stomach swooped with pride. Forgotten, he’d worried. As if. 

Lap 38. GP’s voice came in sharp over the comms; “Purple Sector Two, Max. Good job.”

Amelia didn’t smile. Not yet. She was holding her breath now.

Lap 45. Hamilton dove in. The final phase began. Max had the advantage. But not for long.

Lap 53. Two laps to go.

Max took the lead with a stunning overtake around the outside of Turn 4. Amelia’s heart leapt. 

But he ran wide. Track limits. The order came like a whisper, a curse; “Give it back.” 

She closed her eyes for a moment. “Fuck,” she whispered.

Lap 56. Final lap. Hamilton led. Max was there, nearly pushing him through every corner, but it wasn’t enough.

The flag waved.

Hamilton won.

Max finished P2.

Lando P4 — a breath away from the podium. 

GP exhaled beside her, already offering reassurances. "It's only round one. We'll get them next time."

She nodded. She believed it. But still.

Still.

— 

Amelia found him on the balcony of their shared hotel room, one leg propped on the low wall, still in a McLaren team hoodie, curls damp from a rushed shower. He looked up when she slid the door open.

“Hey baby,” he said, soft and tired.

Amelia didn’t say anything at first. She just walked over, reached for his hand, and tugged him gently toward her.

He didn’t resist. Just leaned into her, let her wrap her arms around his waist and press her face into his chest.

“P4,” she mumbled.

He laughed quietly. “I know.”

“You were amazing.”

He let out a long breath, arms looping around her back. “Felt good. Car was sharp today. We had more in it, maybe, but... yeah. I’m happy.”

Amelia leaned back just enough to look up at him. “You should be. You outdrove your teammate, held your own against the Ferraris.”

Lando grinned at her. “You gonna make me a trophy?”

She frowned. “No. Why would I do that? You didn’t win.”

He snorted, kissed her forehead. “Yeah. Good thing I’m patient.”

“You are,” she agreed. “That’s why you’re doing so well.”

They stood like that for a moment, wrapped in the hush of midnight Bahrain, the warm breeze brushing past them. Her hand found the edge of his hoodie, fingers sliding underneath to touch warm skin.

“You looked good today,” he said softly. “On the pit wall, working hard.”

She nodded. “I really feel like I’ve found my place there.”

“And Max?” He asked. 

She paused. “He was… good. Disappointed. But he’s focused. It’ll come.”

Lando hummed, then pulled her closer, swaying them gently. “Chances of me winning before he does this year?”

Amelia looked up at him, amused. “Slim to none, unfortunately.”

“I know,” he grinned. “But it’d make you smile, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes. And then I’d be crucified for sitting on Max’s pit wall and smiling at another drivers win.” She told him. 

He leaned in and kissed her, slow and warm and sweet. When they finally pulled apart, Amelia cupped his cheek.

“I’m so proud of you,” she said.

His eyes crinkled. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Completely.”

He brushed his nose against hers. “Cool. So… we celebrating with cake or sex?”

Amelia blinked. “Both?”

Lando laughed, pulling her back inside. “You’re perfect.”

— 

Following the first race of the season, Amelia got sick.

It started slowly, just a scratch in her throat, a little bit more fatigue than usual, but by the second day back in the UK, it hit her like a truck.

Fever. Shakes. Headache. Nausea. The works.

She tried to power through it, of course. She was Amelia. She didn’t do sick days. But when she nearly passed out standing in front of the mirror brushing her teeth, Lando had carried her back to bed, tucked the covers up around her chin, and handed her a glass of water with a stern but incredibly gentle, “You’re not moving for the rest of the day, okay?”

It was awful for her.

And somehow, somehow, it was worse for Lando.

He hovered. Kept her topped up with expensive coffee and water, made a heroic effort in the kitchen (which resulted in some aggressively average tinned soup, but it was warm and made with love), and sat with her on the sofa, leaning back against her, giving her the exact amount of deep pressure that she needed since she felt so out of sorts.

He ran cool cloths over her forehead, whispered soft reassurances when her fever spiked in the middle of the night, and called his mum every few hours for advice on what more he could do to help her feel better. 

Now, on day three, she was finally stable enough to sit upright without swaying. The lights were low, the flat was quiet, and she was curled into Lando’s side on the couch, her face smushed against his bare chest as Pretty Woman played softly on the TV in front of them.

He was scrolling on his phone with one hand and the other was moving up and down her thigh absently. She snuffled a little, still congested and gross, and pushed herself impossibly closer to his warmth. 

Safe. Comfortable. At peace. 

— 

Max showed up mid-afternoon on the Thursday. 

“Did you rob a pharmacy?” Amelia croaked from the couch, her voice still rough with congestion as she blinked blearily over the edge of her blanket.

He dropped the bag on the coffee table with a dramatic thud. “Maybe.”

Inside was everything she could possibly need; throat lozenges, vitamin C gummies, a fresh box of tissues, eucalyptus balm, electrolyte drinks, chocolate buttons (“for morale,” he’d muttered), and even a miniature hot water bottle shaped like a bear.

Amelia stared at it all. “Did the girlfriend that you’re still lying to help you with this?”

“No,” Max said quickly. “Okay yes. But I picked the bear.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re weird.”

“So are you,” he shot back, tugging off his jacket and flopping unceremoniously onto the living room floor. “Now come on. We’ve got work to do.”

That was how they ended up there, Max stretched out on Lando’s living room rug with his laptop open, Amelia curled up under a blanket beside him with tissues stuffed up her sleeve like someone’s grandma, hunched over notes and telemetry data.

They worked in a familiar rhythm; Amelia with her sharp, observant critiques and Max with his quiet nods, letting her voice guide the direction. She sounded like hell, sniffly and hoarse and congested, but her mind was still as razor-sharp as ever, and Max didn’t miss the way she caught every subtle shift in his sector times, every inconsistency in brake response.

“You’re annoyingly good at this,” he muttered, glancing sideways at her.

She shrugged, wiping her nose. “I know.”

They kept at it until the sun dipped low in the sky and the flat was soaked in golden light. Max had just asked about tyre degradation when Amelia stopped responding.

He turned to look, and there she was—head tipped against the arm of the couch, blanket pulled up to her chin, tissues still clutched in one hand. Out cold, mouth slightly open, cheeks flushed with fever.

Max sighed softly, closing the laptop with a quiet snap. “Stubborn zusje,” he muttered, a fond smile tugging at his mouth as he stood.

The front door clicked open a second later.

Lando stepped in, looking wrecked from a day of intense training, hoodie clinging damply to his shoulders. He paused when he saw Max still there, eyebrows drawing together. “What’s going on?”

Max jerked his chin toward Amelia. “She insisted on coming back to work. I told her she was still sick. She told me she wasn’t. So I drove here instead of dragging her to Milton Keynes.” He gave a small laugh. “She made it three hours. Then passed out mid-sentence.”

Lando dropped his gym bag with a quiet thud and crossed to the couch. He crouched beside Amelia, fingers gently brushing sweat-dampened hair away from her forehead. His voice softened. “Jesus. She really doesn’t know how to stop, does she?”

“Her only flaw,” Max said, grabbing his own bag. “Take care of her, yeah? I need her sharp again by Imola.”

Lando adjusted the blanket up around her shoulders, gaze never leaving her face. “Yeah. Of course. Thanks for watching out for her, man.”

Max gave a short, understanding nod and let himself out with a parting, “Later.”

Lando waited a beat, listening to the quiet, before slipping his arms under Amelia’s knees and shoulders. She stirred the moment she was lifted, letting out a tiny groan and curling instinctively into his chest.

“You’re home?” she murmured, voice rough and small.

“Yeah, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “And now we’re going to bed. Proper bed.”

She hummed, already half-asleep, nuzzling into his neck. “Still feel like shit. But I love you.”

He chuckled, arms tightening around her. “Love you too. Can’t believe you actually wanted to drive to Milton fucking Keynes like this.”

“Would’ve been fine,” she mumbled, stubborn as ever.

And then, right on cue, she dissolved into a coughing fit that tore through her chest and effectively killed her argument.

Lando didn’t even try to hide the grin. “Yeah. Super convincing, babe.”

She sniffled, still curled against him. “Shut up.”

— 

It was sometime past midnight. The lights were low, the sheets tangled around their legs, and the soft hum of the street barely made it through the slightly open window.

Amelia lay on her side, head tucked into the crook of Lando’s shoulder, one arm draped lazily across his stomach. He was warm beneath her, skin soft and comforting, his voice a quiet murmur above her head.

“…and then Jon made me do this set of banded sprints that absolutely murdered my quads,” he was saying, his fingers absently tracing lazy circles along the bare skin of her arm. “Swear I almost fell flat on my face in the gym. And then we had the simulator session, but I kept getting distracted ‘cause the brakes were feeling off, like they were biting too soon.”

She didn’t say anything, just listened, eyelids heavy but not quite ready to let go of the moment. There was something in the way he spoke, like he didn’t even realise how animated his hands got when he was into something. Like he didn’t know his voice softened a little when he said her name, even in passing. Like he didn’t realise how easy it was to love him.

“Baby?” he asked quietly, glancing down when she didn’t answer.

She blinked up at him, smiling sleepily. “I’m listening, Lan. Promise.” 

— 

Imola 

Teams were setting up, media outlets milling around, and the familiar hum of power tools being tested echoed through the paddock. Amelia wandered a little ahead of Lando, distracted by the sight of a familiar dog trotting toward her through the crowd.

“Roscoe!” She grinned, crouching just in time to be enthusiastically tackled by the massive bulldog. His tail thumped against her legs as she scratched behind his ears.

“Hey, kid,” came a low, warm voice from above her.

She looked up, and there was Lewis, hands tucked into his Mercedes jacket, sunglasses perched atop his head, watching her with a soft but unmistakably distant look.

She rose slowly, brushing fur off her trousers. “Hi. I like his new collar. It’s so cute,” she said lightly.

Lewis glanced down at Roscoe, then nodded. “Yeah. He’s missed you.”

There was a moment of quiet, just slightly too long. The smile dropped from Amelia’s face.

She tilted her head. “Are you okay?”

Lewis blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You’re being weird,” she said flatly.

Lando caught up, hovering behind her. “Baby…” he said gently, tone a soft warning.

She looked back at him, frowning. “He is!”

Lando’s jaw jumped at the slight tremble in her tone, his gaze moving back to Lewis, a dark warning on his face. 

Lewis’ gaze was steady but guarded. “I can’t help it, Amelia. You’re working with Max now, yeah?” His eyes flicked to her, searching, almost like he was trying to measure her response. “And that… that does change things. You, working with my biggest rival.”

Amelia shook her head, the confusion and frustration beginning to bubble up inside her. “I’m just doing my job.” Her voice cracked a little, an undercurrent of hysteria creeping in. “I don’t want things to get weird between us. Please, don’t make it weird.”

Lando’s voice cut through softly from behind her. ��Amelia…” he murmured, a note of concern threading through his tone. He knew how much Lewis meant to her, knew how much this was tearing her up, but it was only inevitable, wasn’t it?

Amelia didn’t turn to look at him, her focus solely on Lewis now, her pulse racing. “I’ve always looked up to you,” she continued, a little more frantic. “And you have always been so nice to me. I don't want to lose you in my life just because I'm working for Max. Nothing’s changed except that I’ve got a job to do now.”

Lewis sighed, his eyes flickering with uncertainty as he took in her words. He glanced away for a moment, processing everything before settling his gaze on her. “It’s just hard, kid,” he admitted, quieter now. “Seeing you with him, knowing what that means for me, for my team…”

“I’m not picking sides,” she snapped a little more forcefully than she intended, the frustration now bubbling over. “I’m not picking anyone. I’m picking myself. I always have. And that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, Lewis.”

There was a long, heavy pause as the tension hung thick in the air, with only the soft panting of Roscoe breaking the silence. Lewis seemed to deflate, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, kid,” he said finally, his voice softer. “I get it. I’ll get over it. I just… selfishly wish you’d chosen Mercedes, that’s all.”

“Okay,” she said, her voice steadier now. 

As Amelia bent down to give Roscoe one last scratch behind the ears.

“Hey, zusje,” Max called, strolling to to them in his usual Red Bull jacket and skinny jeans. “I’ve been looking for you. GP’s waiting on us,” he told her. 

Amelia huffed softly, brushing down her skirt. “Alright, I’ll see you guys later,” she turned to Lando, leaned in to kiss him, feeling his hand squeeze hers lightly in response.

“See you soon, baby,” Lando murmured, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before his attention shifted to Max, who was already gesturing for her to follow him.

Amelia turned to Lewis, her expression softening just a touch as she gave him a small wave. “Take care, okay?”

Lewis looked back at her, his eyes still carrying a trace of the tension that had been there before, but his voice was more measured this time. “Yeah, you too, kid.”

But just as she was about to turn away, she caught the faintest flicker of something in Lewis’ expression; a mix of caution, hesitation, and maybe a hint of something else — she hated that she couldn’t tell.

Max, noticing the look from behind her, turned his head sharply. His gaze locked with Lewis’ for a moment, something unspoken passing between them, a brief and subtle challenge.

Lewis didn’t flinch but held Max’s gaze, the tension hanging in the air like a low hum before Max spoke up, his voice casual but his body language firm.

“Let’s go, Amelia,” Max said, his hand gently guiding her away from the pair of them.

As they started walking, Lando took a deep breath, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched them leave. “Christ. Good luck with that, mate,” he muttered under his breath. 

Lewis, still standing in the same spot, let out a long sigh, the edge of his frustration softened but still there. “Yeah, thanks,” he replied, his voice low as he looked after the pair of them. 

— 

Lando and Amelia had found a quiet spot in the paddock, away from the bustling journalists and photographers. It was early afternoon, the Italian sun still high, but the relentless rush of the morning had started to wind down.

They sat together at one of the outdoor tables, with the faint sounds of conversations and laughter filling the air. Amelia took a bite of her sandwich, eyes scanning the surroundings lazily. The day had been full of interviews, photos, and the usual whirlwind of the F1 circus, but now she could finally give herself a moment to relax.

Lando sat across from her, munching on his lunch, eyes flickering between his phone and Amelia. After a moment, he looked up, a playful grin on his face.

“You know,” he started, a teasing edge in his voice, “you’ve got a rating on WAGFASH for today’s outfit.”

Amelia raised an eyebrow. “What’s the rating?”

“Nine,” he said, smugly.

She glanced down at her outfit; a white, low-waisted rara skirt paired with a baby tee emblazoned with an Italian flag and her little orange gem belly button piercing. “Huh. Not bad.” She said, slightly proud of herself. “I should comment and say thank you.”

But as she rifled through her handbag, her expression turned into one of mild panic. “Oh. Oh no.”

“What is it?” Lando asked, eyebrows raised.

“I’ve lost my iPad!” she exclaimed, voice rising slightly.

— 

WhatsApp Groupchat — 2021 F1 Grid

Lando N. Ok who has it?

Esteban O. Not me, mate.

Pierre G. Haven’t seen it!

George R. Yeah mate, not seen it today, sorry.

Mick S. You told me to just leave it if I saw it.

Lando N. You fucking what? Are you serious? Where did you see it?

Mick S. I gave it to the Alpine kid!

Lando N. What fucking Alpine kid?

Mick S. Pastry?

Lando N. Oh thank god. You’re lucky, Schumacher. She likes him.

George R. There’s an Alpine driver called Pastry? LMAO

Lando N. Piastri.

George R. Not as fun.

NEXT CHAPTER

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Florida is One Hell of a Drug - [Part 2]

♥ prev | next

♥ series masterlist | main masterlist

♥ pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

♥ chapter two synopsis: lando hard launched his status as a girl dad, throwing all the fans into a loop. hopefully this visit to the miami gp will bring you closer two together as co-parents

♥ smau + written - fc: girls on pinterest + madison beer for paparazzi pics - none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing and suggestive jokes !!!

♥ a/n: I'm literally honored that y'all have been enjoying this series. sorry it took me so long to write this part/chapter!

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lilyzneimer 🤍

comments are limited

alexandra_saintmleux she's so cute 🥺

logansargeant I'll take a babysitting shift 🙋‍♂️

oscarpiastri I'm the favorite uncle piss off

logansargeant chill damn

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Things between you and Lando were still pretty awkward. After all, if someone asked the two of you the night you hooked up where you’d be in a year, a flight to Miami with your newborn baby would not be your answer. You didn’t trust him very much yet, but who could blame you? You expected him to do everything in his power to stay away from you and Camila. But here he was, flying the two of you out to watch him race. Lando really wanted to prove to you that he was all in. That he wasn’t going to take off running the minute things got hard for you two as co-parents. 

You were extremely grateful that Oscar and Lily were on the same jet as you. This made the atmosphere not too uncomfortable. Lily was rocking Camila in her arms as her and Oscar talked a little about Mark Webber. You debated whether you should jump into their conversation after having an extensive f1 research night with your best friend the day before, but you decided to just sit in silence.

You caught Lando staring at you and let out a sigh. This was going to be a long flight.

-

He scanned the keycard to a nice suite in the same hotel the grid was staying in.

"This will be your room," he said, wandering inside. "Don't worry about where Camila will sleep, the hotel provided a crib."

"Thank you," you said genuinely. He was trying to be thoughtful.

"If you need anything, you have my number." Lando said before leaving the room.

You sat on the edge of your bed and pulled out your phone to check your notifications.

They already found you? And they thought you were a wag? Damn the paparazzi is quick.

liked by user2, user7, and 3,493 more

user6 I found y/n’s instagram before it went private. How is she so gorgeous?

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user8 I’m obsessed with herrrr

user12 she’s so aesthetic

user4 new favorite wag

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-Race Day-

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The last 20 laps of the race were driving you absolutely insane. You watched closely as Lando started to pull away from Max second by second. Your leg was shaking and you wondered why this was so nerve racking.

19 laps left. 18 laps left. 15 laps left. 10 laps left. 5 laps left.

1 lap left.

The crowd and garage erupted with cheers as Lando crossed the line in P1. You heard him screaming on the radio and couldn't help but smile. Lando Norris, the father of your daughter, is now a Formula 1 race winner.

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mclarenracingf1 P1 BOYSS

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user6 LANDO’S A GIRL DAD 😭

user8 his gf is so pretty

user10 SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

user5 babe wake up Lando just hard launched his status as girl dad

user7 HE'S NOT THE STEP DAD HE'S THE DAD THAT STEPPED UPP

user3 @/user7 PREACH

user2 never change, mclaren admin

user1 screaming, crying, throwing up

user9 lets go lando, lando is ok

user11 lets go lando, he is here to stay!!!

user4 he has a daughter 🥺

user12 my heart belongs to the dads of the grid

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-Post Race Driver Reactions-

“Lando, great race. How does it feel to not only get your first win but have your daughter and partner here with you?" 

“Oh uhm, she’s not my partner.” he pressed his lips together. “But, yeah it feels great. It’s been a long time coming but we finally got the win. I hope I made my daughter and the fans proud today.”

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liked by logansargeant, landonorris, lilyzneimer, and 493,559 more

yourusername logan got me a bouquet 🥰 oh also oscar got camila some stuff too

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logansargeant @/oscarpiastri look who's the favorite uncle now

user7 please 😭

user4 the girls are fightinggg

user3 she made her account public again yay <3

user9 ok but that's so cute :(

user8 loscar as uncles >>>

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You and Lando walked through the sliding doors of the 5 star hotel you were staying at.

"Some of the other drivers and I are gonna go out tonight if you'd like to come? I'm sure they wouldn't mind." he rubbed the back of his neck.

You nodded towards Camila who was in your arms as a silent "I have to take care of her."

He pulled his phone out quickly, “I’m sure I can find someone who can-”

“No, it's ok. Go enjoy yourself.” you said, shaking your head and pushing his phone back down. “Not too much, though. Don’t want you ending up with another unplanned kid.”  

The comment took Lando aback but drew a laugh out of him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Congrats on your win.” you smiled, walking back to your room.

-

Later that night you laid down in your hotel room bed, scrolling through your feed. Dozens of pictures and videos of Lando popped up. Camila made a squealing noise in the portable crib beside you.

"I know, right?" you said to her with a laugh.

You stared at one picture that he looked particularly good in. You couldn't pretend like he wasn't attractive.

"Alright," you sighed, and placed your phone down. "Goodnight, mija." you leaned over, kissed her forehead, and switched off the bedside lamp.

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[nathaslosthershit]

Tiny Notes (OP81)

Summary: Oscar was dying, sitting in his first business meeting after signing with Mclaren. Luckily, a pretty girl his age sat right next to him, and she was certainly not in the mood to pay attention to the meeting.

A/n: I think this is one of my most favorite things I’ve written- it was originally the start to my Franco fic (coming tomorrow) but early on I got the idea to change it to Oscar and went from there. Hope you all enjoy 🫶

Neither Oscar nor the eldest Webber daughter wanted to be at the meeting. Actually Miss. Webber herself would argue that there was no reason for her to be there as she didn’t have an official role at Mclaren. But when her grown adult father pouted like a little kid when she said she’d rather eat her own eyes than sit through a 2 hour long meeting with him just because he ‘wants to spend some time with his first mini me’, she stupidly gave in. Now, as she yawned for the 5th time in the past… god, 6 minutes, she could see her dad wearing a shit eating grin while watching her die of boredom. 

Even as a father, Mark Webber could be such an asshole. 

Oscar didn’t know why he was at this meeting. He knew he had to be there, he had just signed a contract to join Mclaren for the upcoming season, but he didn’t know why they needed him there, especially since he couldn’t understand half the words these businessmen were talking about. Assets? Net Loss? He was just here to drive cars.

Maybe he would have figured out the significance of the meeting, if there hadn’t been a beautiful girl his age sitting right next to him. He had already gotten used to the idea that the Mark Webber was his manager, who currently sat across from him, but now he was expected to pay attention when he was next to an attractive girl?

The meeting might have been boring, but Oscar couldn't say his first day at Mclaren hadn’t been memorable. 

“Isn’t that right, Oscar?” The man standing in the front of the room talking asked. Oscar just looked around, hoping he wan’t the Oscar they were talking to, but when everyone stared at him expectantly, he knew he was fucked. 

“I’m sorry, I didn-”

“It is alright,” The businessman laughed, “I was just saying we were honored to sign a new driver for our second seat, and that he seems very promising, isn’t that right?”

“Oh! Yes, I am good.” Everyone laughed at that, but Oscar hadn’t meant it as a joke. He hadn’t meant it in a egotistical way, he was just being nice by agreeing with the man speaking. 

Luckily, the meeting moved on and Oscar could slouch in his chair and try to disappear and die from embarrassment. 

He thought he was out of the clear, that everyone had forgotten about him and he wouldn’t need to speak for the rest of the… hour and a half. This meeting was brutal.

That was until someone nudged Oscar’s leg and he looked up from his hands in his lap to see the girl next to him had pushed the notebook in front of her over.

Have you been paying attention?

Oscar panicked, he hadn’t meant to make his inattention that obvious.

Instead of picking up the pen, he looked at her and nodded his head, hoping his face was calm and convincing her he had been listening

She was not fooled.

She knew who Oscar was, even before he had been introduced. They hadn’t met formally, her dad didn’t want them to meet after she made a joke about how grateful she is to see that Formula 1 has a ‘hot new boy toy’. She was obviously kidding, or at least she tried to convince her dad that she was. 

It's okay, I’m not either, she wrote again, pushing the pen towards him hoping he would reply and give her something to do while this meeting dragged on. 

I don’t know what they are talking about, Oscar replied, regretting it immediately, not wanting to come across as an idiot to her.

She laughed and Oscar felt his heart flutter at the sound. 

She was in the middle of replying that she didn’t know any of it either, when her dad waved his hand at them, grabbing both the young adults’ attention. 

‘At least act like you care, and stop writing to each other!’ he mouthed to them.

Oscar gulped and began to sweat a little, but the girl next to him just rolled her eyes and made an indecent gesture. She’s got guts, he had to give her that. 

But Mark didn’t do anything but try to conceal his laughter, somehow he wasn’t mad at the girl for disrespecting him. 

She began to pick up the pen when Oscar grabbed her hand to stop her, mouthing ‘he said we can’t’

He didn’t want his manager getting mad at him. 

Meanwhile Mark Webber’s eldest daughter loved to annoy her dad, but she knew he loved it too.

“He didn’t say anything about tic-tac-toe” she whispered softly into Oscar’s ear, giving him goosebumps and sending a chill down his spine. That shouldn’t have affected him as much as it did.

Get a grip, Piastri.

So they played tic-tac-toe, and other stupid games to pass the time, until it was finally the moment they were all dismissed from the meeting. 

Both the young adults actually groaned when they realized the meeting was over. 

Oscar didn’t get time to say anything to the girl as his teammate, Lando Norris, came up to have a quick chat. He liked Lando, he really did, but his timing was terrible.

Luckily, the brit could see Oscar was anxious to leave, and he could see who was making him anxious.

“Ohhhhhh, interesting choice, Piastri. Out of everyone you set your eyes on her? Good luck with that, mate.” Lando laughed as he patted Oscar on the back.

What the hell did he mean by that?

She had been waiting for her dad to grab something from his office, but she was also kind of possibly waiting for Oscar to come out of the room. When she looked over and saw Lando was the reason he was being held up, she scoffed.

Leave it to Norris to cockblock her. 

She turned around, not wanting to get caught staring, and impatiently tapped her foot as she waited for her dad to come back. No sooner than she saw him walking as slowly as he could down the hallway, which he was doing because he saw how impatient she was, she got a tap on her shoulder. 

“I just- wanted to say thanks for keeping me sane during the meeting.” Oscar said. “Oh uh, I’m Oscar, I'll be driving for the team next year.” He said awkwardly as he stuck his hand out.

Was it rude to imply she didn’t know who he was, or rude to assume she did?

“I know who you are, Oscar.” She laughed, shaking his hand. “I probably know more about you than 99% of that room.”

That confused him. “Can I at least get your name the-”

“Oscar, what was rule number one when I became your manager?” Mark Webber said, scaring the two of them as he snuck up behind the girl.

Shit, “Uh, don’t bring up Multi 21,” he replied, realizing he had just broken that rule by bringing it up. 

The girl giggled at that, and Oscar felt his heart stop. He also felt a blush creep on his face, one that Mark too saw and by his frown, Oscar could tell he disapproved.

“No- well yes, but the other big rule.”

“If I meet any of you or other racing drivers’ daughters, I am not allowed to flirt or befriend or speak or look or breathe near any of them.” Oscar didn’t understand why that needed to be a rule but he thought fighting Mark on it wouldn’t go well. 

“Damn, two rules broken on your first day, Piastri?” The girl laughed.

“What?” Was all he replied. Then he connected the dots. The glares and looks shared between the girl and Mark, her being able to flip him off and him not getting offended by it, the fact they walked in together.

Mark and his eldest daughter could see as Oscar reached his conclusion.

“Fuck I’m- I didn’t know that- Well you see-” There was no getting out of this.

Thankfully, Mark just laughed, “it’s alright buddy, just never speak to her ever again.” Oscar shuddered at the way his manager’s expression grew darker at the end of his sentence.

The two Webbers walked away from the young driver, arguing or joking with each other, Oscar couldn’t tell, when a paper slipped out of the girl’s hand. 

Oscar picked it up and went to tell her she had dropped it, when he saw what was written on it.

Don’t listen to him, he is an overprotective ass ;)

How had she known ahead of time that her Dad would disapprove? Before he could question it further, he flipped the note to see her number was written on the back. 

Thank god he was forced to be at that useless meeting.

[sturniolohouse]

Scavenger Hunt - M.S

dad!matt x reader blurb - chris is the last in the house to find out about reader’s pregnancy.

"Alright both of you, close your eyes and hold your hands out," I announce, pointing to Nick and Chris who sit on the couch.

Matt sits next to them, his leg bouncing slightly with nerves. Our eyes meet, and he gives me a reassuring smile, though I can see he's just as anxious as I am.

Chris scrunches his face and looks between Matt and I, "What's going on?" He asks, clearly suspicious.

I see Nick hiding his knowing grin, pressing his lips in a line.

"Kid, just close your fucking eyes," Matt snaps, smacking Chris' shoulder which he immediately retialites with his own shove.

"Chris, c'mon," Nick says trying to keep the peace and I let out a breath. Chris rolls his eyes before closing his eyes and Nick plays along shutting his eyes with him.

"Are we getting a puppy?" Chris blurts out as I grab the envelopes from the counter.

I walk over to them, my heart pounding a little faster.

Holding two envelopes in my hands, I pause in front of the couch, glancing at Matt again, who gives me a small nod of encouragement.

"I have a big ask," I sigh deeply, looking to Nick sitting at the kitchen table.

I twist open the fresh pickle jar I made Matt pick up today. The smell of the brine hits me instantly, making my mouth water. I spear one with a fork before I take a bite, savoring the sour crunch.

Nick glances up from his laptop, peeking over his glasses as I lean against the kitchen counter, munching thoughtfully.

“No, you and Matt cannot move into my room,” he says flatly, before looking back to his laptop screen.

I roll my eyes and shake my head, finishing off my pickle before grabbing another spear.

"Chris can't know that you know," I finally say, feeling guilty.

Nick raises an eyebrow, closing his laptop halfway, clearly intrigued by the conversation shift. "Why not?"

"You know how he is," I sigh, gesturing vaguely.

"Yes, I'm very aware how he is, he's my brother… who’s an idiot." Nick says dryly, raising an eyebrow as he leans back in his chair.

"I just don't want him to get upset that he was the last to know,"

"If he gets upset that I knew before him, he needs to grow up." He rolls his eyes and I sigh.

"Nick," My tone is firm but pleading. "C'mon, just act surprised. I feel terrible, it's been weeks and we haven't told him yet,"

It's been a little over a month since I found out I was pregnant. Matt and I wanted to wait until I was closer to my second trimester to tell anyone, including Chris.

Which has been difficult considering we all live in the same space and this was the biggest secret Matt ever had to keep from his brother.

But we knew it was safer to wait a bit.

Nick leans forward, his expression softening as he realizes how much this is weighing on me. "Alright, alright. If it makes you feel better, I’ll play dumb. I’ll put on my best Oscar-worthy performance, I promise."

"Okay, keep your eyes closed," I say as I gently place the envelopes in their hands. "No peeking yet."

I hand them their designated envelopes, Nick’s marked with the number 1 and Chris’s with the number 2.

Nick lets out an exaggerated squeal as he clutches his envelope. I stifle a laugh at his act, while Matt rolls his eyes, shaking his head with a playful smirk.

"Open them," I finally say, and Chris immediately starts tearing into his envelope.

"Wait, wait—sorry! Nick, read yours first. They're numbered for a reason," I reach out, stopping Chris mid-rip.

He groans impatiently, leaning back while Nick shushes him with a grin, rubbing his shoulder.

"Relax," He says before opening his envelope carefully and reading it aloud.

“‘Hi Nick and Chris. Welcome to your scavenger hunt! Find the five clues to uncover the surprise... Your first clue is in plain sight, in the hands of the person to your right.’"

Nick turns to Chris, still grinning. “That's you, Chris. Go ahead,"

Chris’s eyes light up, and he doesn’t waste any time. Tearing his envelope open and quickly scanning it over before reading it out loud.

"'Clue number two is being kept warm and toasty... check the spot where you'd grab something cozy.'"

Chris’s wide eyes scan the room momentarily before landing on the basket of throw blankets. He glances at Matt for confirmation, but Matt just shrugs, keeping his face neutral.

"Something cozy..." he mutters to himself before he jumps up and makes a beeline for the blankets.

He digs through the folded blankets, shaking some of them out until he finds the third envelope nestled inside.

“I found it!” he yells, waving it around. “Bro, I'm killing this already. Nick, get on my level.”

"Kid's just too good at this," Matt says dryly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

"You better fold those back up when you're done," Nick warns, giving Chris a disapproving look.

He waves him off, "Nick, shut the fuck up," He rips open the envelope.

“‘To find the next clue, head to Nick’s keep. Near the gumball machine is where you should peek.’” He giggles as he reads it out loud.

“W rhyming. Nick, I'm so winning this," He says as he bolts up the stairs to get the next clue.

Nick rolls his eyes and shakes his head as Chris screams that he found the next clue, followed by his heavy footsteps as he barrels back down the stairs.

“Here, Nick, you can read this one,” Chris says excitedly, practically shoving the envelope into Nick’s hands, rubbing his own hands together in anticipation.

Nick clears his throat, "Feeling thirsty? Here's your tip: Check beside Chris's favorite sip."

"PEPSI!" Chris yells, sprinting for the kitchen, and I jump as he rushes past me, nearly knocking me over.

Nick stands, reaching to steady me and we both laugh at Chris’s excitement.

"Dude, be fucking careful," Matt sits up, his eyes wide with concern.

I assure him that I’m fine as Chris ignores him, yanking open the fridge and rummaging through the Pepsi cans.

“'Don’t stop now, don’t cease your strive. Your fifth clue is where you take late-night drives.'”

“Matt, toss me your keys,” Chris nods towards Matt, wiggling his fingers but Matt tells him that the car is already unlocked.

Chris darts to the steps leading to the garage before peeking his head back. “Nick, c'mon. Why am I doing this by myself?”

I nudge Nick and he rolls his eyes before getting up to follow Chris to the garage.

“Slow down, motherfucker.” Nick calls out as Chris runs ahead of him.

“How about you hurry the fuck up, goof.” Chris retorts.

Matt and I laugh at their muffled bickering as they get further away from us. Once we can't hear them anymore I let out a breath and sit on the couch.

“I might puke, I’m so nervous,” I admit quietly to Matt, who pulls me closer, wrapping his arm around me and kissing the top of my head.

“Me too. But I think it’s working. He has no clue,” he whispers back, giving me a reassuring squeeze.

We see Chris before we see Nick following slightly behind him when they return from the car.

Chris places his hands on his hips, catching his breath, and impatiently looks toward Nick, who’s carrying the fifth envelope.

"Hurry up!" Chris bounces on his heels while Nick shoots him a warning look.

Nick opens the envelope and reads aloud, “‘You've found the final clue, but there's one more stop! Your surprise waits with Mr. Wrinkleton sitting atop.'” He flashes a teasing look at Matt who just shrugs.

"Best guard dog ever," Matt quips with a smirk.

"Go ahead," I urge, getting up from the couch and gently nudging them toward the hallway leading to Matt's room.

Matt follows close behind me, so we can both see the reaction we've been anxiously waiting for.

Nick pushes the door open but Chris rushes past him, immediately spotting the white box on Matt's bed with the stuffed dog sitting on top.

Rubbing his hands together, Chris grins. "S’gotta be tickets to Disney."

He brushes Mr. Wrinkleton aside and grabs the box, giving it a playful shake like a kid on Christmas, trying to guess what’s inside.

He looks to Nick for permission who gives him a soft nod, his own excitement starting to show.

Chris then looks to Matt and I, who are barely keeping it together, both shaking with nerves.

I’ve resorted to locking my shaky hands behind my back while Matt stares intensely at the box in Chris’s grip, nervously gnawing on his nails.

"You guys are starting to freak me out... Why are you all looking at me like that?" Chris asks, his suspicion growing as he holds the closed box close to his chest.

"Chris, just open it," Nick says impatiently, trying and failing to hide his grin.

He hesitates for a second, glancing between all of us again before he finally sits on the edge of the bed, lifting the lid.

He halts immediately, his head snapping up towards me, then Matt, then back to the box. His eyes are wide and slightly vacant as shock washes over him.

Inside the box lays a folded onesie that says,

'I ❤️ my Uncles'.

"This is a fucking prank." He says with certainty, "Nick, are you in on this or something?" Nick covers his mouth his hands, trying to hide his shit eating grin.

"No, you guys gotta be fully fucking with us, because there's no way." Chris says, pushing the box to the side as if it will explode.

"Dude, it's not a prank. Just take everything out," Matt laughs nervously, but Chris sits there, mouth slightly agape, stunned and unmoving.

Nick takes it upon himself to lift the onesie up to reveal the sonogram photo underneath. Chris' wide eyes follow the photo before he looks to us again, pale as a ghost as realization settles in.

"Swear on your life this isn't a prank," he says, his voice wavering as he tries to hold it together.

"Chris, we swear. She's due in February," Matt steps forward, placing a hand on his shoulder and rubbing softly. Chris looks at me, his blue eyes welling up with tears.

He lets out a shaky breath, burying his head in his hands as his shoulders start to tremble. Matt and I immediately sit on either side of him—Matt wrapping an arm around him, while I rub his back.

I catch Nick pulling out his phone to capture the moment.

"Alright, buddy," Matt chuckles softly, his voice also thick with emotion, while I find myself tearing up with Chris.

After a moment, Chris lifts his head, turning to Matt. "You guys are having a fucking kid?" He says in sheer disbelief as he shifts his gaze to me.

He looks between my eyes, "You're pregnant?" His voice breaks.

"Yeah," I nod, emotion welling up as I manage a quiet smile.

He instantly goes in for a bone crushing hug and I wheeze at the impact, but return the tight embrace.

I rub his back and watch Matt's expression, his smile is wobbling as he attempts to hold back his tears.

"Easy, dude...how about your own brother getting a hug?" Matt speaks up jokingly and Nick snorts.

"Hey, she's the one doing all the work here, growing my nephew," Chris says, pulling back.

"Or niece." Nick and I chime in at the same time.

"Well, yeah. Niece or nephew." Chris corrects himself with a shrug. "M'putting money on a boy, though," He slaps Matt's back and brings him for a tight hug next.

Matt chuckles, his voice strained from the force of Chris' embrace. "We'll see, buddy," he says, patting Chris gently on the back.

Chris pulls back slightly, still absorbing the news as he looks between us, his thoughts clearly spinning. Suddenly, his eyes narrow, and they dart toward Nick, suspicion creeping back into his expression.

"Wait... Nick, why aren't you freaking the fuck out?"

Nick freezes, his eyes widening, caught off guard for a split second before he answers.

"I am! Are you kidding me? I'm so shocked, I'm… beyond shocked. I have no words." His voice cracks slightly, but he tries to play it off, though the faint grin tugging at his lips gives him away.

Chris's jaw drops, and he points accusingly at Nick. "You are actually the worst liar, dude. You knew! You knew this whole time!"

Nick throws up his hands defensively. "Okay, hey, whoa! I was sworn to secrecy."

Chris stands up and spins around dramatically looking between Matt and I.

"He knew?!" His voice strains, eyes nearly bulging out of his head. I sigh in defeat and stand quickly, grabbing a hold of his arm to calm him down.

"Chris, relax. He only knew because he was here when I found out. You and Matt were in Chicago."

"Dude, we wanted to tell you," Matt adds, "but we also wanted to wait until we were sure everything was happening. A lot can go wrong in the first few months." Matt explains and Chris seems to soften but he turns back to Nick.

"Fuck you," He pouts, pointing to Nick, though a smile threatens to break through when Nick scoffs at him.

"Oh, grow up, motherfucker. At least you got the fun way of finding out. I found out in the middle of tragedy," Nick crosses his arms, and I nod along.

"Yeah, finding out in real time was lowkey traumatic... I was going through it," I'm able to say a bit lightheartedly now, but I still feel Nick sneak over to rub my back comfortingly.

"Let me see the thing," Chris motions to Matt, eager to see the sonogram taken just yesterday at the 12-week scan.

The baby is significantly bigger and much easier to spot.

Matt hands over the sonogram, and Chris stares at the image in awe. "I can't believe this... you're not even showing." He glances down at my stomach briefly.

I shrug, "No, not yet... I just feel kinda bloated." I feel Matt tug on my belt loop, silently telling me to sit on his lap. I oblige, settling into his arms as he rests his chin on my shoulder.

Chris continues staring at the picture, his brow furrowing in realization. "Wait… do Mom and Dad know? Or Justin?"

Matt shakes his head, keeping his chin on my shoulder. "Not yet. We're gonna tell them when we go to Boston in a couple of weeks."

"This is fucking nuts. You guys are are nuts," Chris takes a seat back on the bed, still processing everything. Nick returns with a donut in hand before plopping down into Matt's streaming chair.

"Yeah, believe us when we say we didn't plan this." Matt laughs with a bit of flushed face.

"You dirty dogs," Chris mutters under his breath, shaking his head.

"Chris." Nick says with wide eyes, slight amusement in them.

"Not apologizing for that. You guys are sick," Chris confirms, looking between Matt and me and I place my hands over my face to hide the heat rising in my cheeks.

"Okay, okay, enough. Chris, I'm sorry you were the last of us to find out. It was really hard keeping it from you," Matt says, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"We have a proposition, though. Well—actually, for the both of you," Matt adds, glancing at Nick.

"We went to the doctor yesterday for our scan, and we did the blood test to determine the sex of the baby... so we were wondering if you guys—"

"Yes! Yes, whatever you're about to say– yes." Chris blurts out, practically bouncing in excitement.

"Chris, let her finish," Nick scolds, though he's smiling.

"They want us to throw the gender reveal party," Chris interrupts again, this time with a knowing grin.

Matt and I exchange a glance, laughing softly. "Yeah, something like that," I say, amused.

"We thought it would be fun if you both planned the reveal together," Matt explains, "But something lowkey, alright? No big party. Probably just the four of us, maybe a couple friends... and no explosives or forest fires..."

"But those are the best kind..." Nick says, sounding playfully defeated.

“Dude, c’mon, I’m being for real.” Matt gives him a pointed look, though a smile still sneaks through.

“Our neighbors already hate us enough," I remind them, thinking of all the noise complaints we receive weekly.

Matt groans, pressing his forehead against my shoulder. “You guys are gonna get us evicted.”

"Fine, fine. Lowkey it is, but we're going to find a way to make it special...this is the first baby," Nick says softly and I feel Matt squeeze my hip.

“Don’t worry you guys, Nick and I have it under control,” Chris wraps an arm around Nick before stealing his donut.

“I trust you guys,” I say confidently, turning to Matt, who still looks a little weary. “Right, Matt?” I nudge him gently. He hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering between Nick and Chris, but eventually gives a small nod.

“Sorry Matt, you’ve already relinquished full creative control to Chris and I,” Nick tells him with mock sympathy.

Matt mutters under his breath, rubbing his eyes and I cover my mouth to hide my giggle as he buries his face in my back.

“I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I?”

[cainrising]

Yeah, well, I think I've said it before, you know. People sometimes of course forget a little bit, like last year it was his second year, now of course he's in his third year and he's very solid, you know, very calm in his approach, and I like that, and I think it shows also on track, you know. He delivers when he has to deliver, barely makes any mistakes, and that's what you need to do when you want to fight for a championship, and of course also with Mark by his side, you know, he's helping him a lot, I think, and it's great, you know. People learn from their own careers, and that's of course what I have with my dad, and Mark is trying to also advise I think Oscar in that, and then of course Oscar has to do the job. At the end of the day, he's using his talent, and that's great to see.

max about oscar, saudi arabia post-race press conference 2025

[lokideservesahug]

Happy "Family"

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-Pairing: Mark Webber x fem!reader, Oscar Piastri x Webber family (platonic)

Warnings: Nothing, this is just cute fluff.

Notes: Right this request is 2 whole races late and I am so so sorry. But better late then never😅 (I'm so sorry)!

Summary: How do the Webber family react to their favourite adopted member's shenanigans in Monaco? Well let's see...

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

(The photos in higher quality):

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Yourusername

Yourusername: A midly stressful weekend from start to finish. I think and Mark and I have developed a large amount of great hairs with the amount of stress (especially with that contact) but in the end it was all worth it when

@ oscarpiastri got Second place. We are incredibly proud, all of us🧡

P.S. I had to include a photo of both of Oscar's adoptive dads sharing an interaction!

Liked by Aussiegrit, Oscarpiastri and 409,765 others

View all 4,678 comments

Oscarpiatri: Thank you all for the support and thanks to the little gremlins for being so amazing yet again🧡

↳ Yourusername: Well done Oscar we are so happy for you (and see you tonight at dinner)

↳User1: They are getting dinner to celebrate?!?!?🥺

↳Yourusername: We were going to get dinner regardless but we can now use at as an excuse to celebrate (and let someone babysit the kids)

↳User2: #justiceforbabywebbers

User3: This is the sweetest thing ever. I need The Piasebber family more than I need air atp

↳User4: FR. Like they are the sweetest most supportive group ever

User5: Welcome back celebratory Y/N captions

↳User6: It's been a long time since we have seen those

↳User7:🤨

↳User8: Because Mark retired ages ago!😅🥲 (he deserved a championship😔)

Aussiegrit: Well done Oscar, what a great performance today

↳Oscarpiastri: Thank you Mark (also I'm afraid to ask Y/N but what is the dress code for tonight)

↳Aussiegrit: Any time🧡 (Smart casual for the resteraunt, and I get your fear)

↳Yourusername: Do you guys remember that this is my comment section so I can see what you typed...right🤨

↳Aussiegrit:Nothing to see here darling x

User9: THE CHARLES AND MARK PHOTO

↳User10: That had me giggling bro

Charlesleclerc: Well done Oscar 🤍

↳Oscarpiastri: Thank you parent #2

↳Charlesleclerc:Who is parent Number 1?

↳Aussiegrit: Im sorry to break out to you mate, but Oscar has a clear best parent!

↳Oscarpiastri: Yeah. It's Y/N

↳Aussiegrit: Oi!

↳Yourusername: Sorry darling, and sorry Charles (and well done on your home win)! But Osc said it best...

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Thank you for reading and sorry for hoe delayed this is.

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @thatgirlmj

[formula-nyoom]

Grid Dads

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

Sequel to Grid Kids

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

Oscar

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t let them pass you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ‘Don’t let them pass.’

Oscar could do that.

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

The lights went on again

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

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

Still in P1.

‘Don’t let them pass.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t let them pass.”

 “And what did you do?”

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

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

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

Logan

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

Logan breathed.

“IT’S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO!”

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

“Box Box.” 

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

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

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

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

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

He managed two overtakes before a collision happened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s do some overtaking.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Verstappen .08 seconds ahead. Push.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Logan actually had a chance at winning this race.

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

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

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

Oscar hits the gas.

Logan hits it faster.

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

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

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

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

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

 “Last Lap. Bring it home Logan.”

But reality sets in.

He just needs to make it past the finish line.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yea, he’s a Formula One race winner. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now, Logan felt like he was flying.

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

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

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

(Y/N)

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

 “Off to go racing, honey bee?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[tinyhrry]

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puppy love @mcqweens

it started with an appendix @pucksandpower

mrs smooth operator @imnameimswrld

funny wife, happy life @eccentricwritingbaby

hungry eyes @ham1lton

secret love @sunny44

dream life @pandagas

his lucky charm @lewisvinga

mr big @monzabee

my bfs bf @lewisvinga

detectives

flower power @nouvellevqgue

soft launch? @sharlsworld

supernatural @afterglowsainz

always n forever @55szn

exs or not @visacardteamloverrr

Pierre Gasly

mon dieu @lewisvinga

obsessed @dannyricsmirrorball

F1 Grid

drunk text @ham1lton

wrapped around her finger @natailiatulls07

lullaby of doubts @theyluvkarolina

mclaren mclovin @csainzoperator

injury @mirohlayo

baby sainz @amirasainz

[fernandopiastri28]

tags: f2 alpine oscar x mark webber's daughter, all pics from pinterest

warnings: blood, partial self inflicted pain, bad father-daughter relationship, angst angst angst in this chapter + fluff at the end

Anyone but webber - Oscar Piastri

Rule 8: Don’t bleed for someone who never bandaged your wounds.

The next morning begins painfully with an eardrum-crushing ringtone blaring far too close to her head. Her whole body aches, her head fuzzy and vision splodgy as she opens her eyes to light bleeding through the curtains. Her phone buzzes itself off her bedside table, now vibrating against the floor—just out of reach when her arm hangs down the side off the bed. 

It forces her to try and wake up somewhat, properly get out of bed and answer whoever is ringing her at this obscene hour of the morning. She squints at the caller ID, reaching around aimlessly for her glasses simply because her contacts are too far away right now. 

Luckily for her though, Siri decides to read out and announce the message. 

Incoming call from Mark (Dad)

Oh. 

She rubs her face—maybe slightly too rough and nearly certain to leave weird dry-red marks, and swipes to answer the call. She puts her phone to her ear, finally finding her glasses to shove onto her face. “Hello?” Her voice is gravelly from sleep, barely a croak.

“Did I wake you?” Straight from the get go there is no sort of greeting, no apologiosing for waking her up at barely six in the morning, absolutely fuck all.

“Yeah.” She forces herself upright and coughs into her fist, clearly her throat. Someone, or maybe more, is talking right next to Mark about as loud as they possibly can. Every second word they say gets caught by Mark’s microphone, slipping in and out of their conversation. “Do you need something?”

She knows the answer to that already, Mark wouldn’t be calling if he didn’t.

Cutting across his staticky voice is the sound of papers being rustled, “Uh, yeah. I need you to go up to my office and grab the orange folder ontop of my printer, scan each page, and email them to me.” He pauses for a moment, a few actually. Part of her is hopeful for him to add a ‘Please’, or a ‘If you can’ onto the end, but that’s like expecting him to start speaking Russian.

It’s not gonna happen.

“Or do you need me to ask Oscar to come over and do it instead?”

Objectively, that’s much better than her getting a half assed attempt of him showing her any sense of manners. If he organises Oscar to come over to help with the folder situation, then if somehow he finds out that Oscar was here while he was away, they’ll have an excuse for it.

“Yeah, I think that would be a good idea.” She chews at the corner of her nails, standing up to start getting ready for her day, and date most importantly, even though she’s got hours until Oscar arrives. “I can text him, I think I have his number.”

Think, does—what’s the difference anyways?

“Great.” Luckily he doesn’t question why she would have his number, given that they have near to no sense of a relationship whatsoever beyond speaking a few words to eachother when she’s caught off guard that he just happens to be at her house. 

Well, Mark’s never been particularly observant or inquisitive when it comes to anything involving her. “Can you text him sometime soon? It’s quite urgent.” 

She places her phone on the edge of her bathroom sink, leaning over said sink to struggle with putting in her contacts, “Uh huh, yeah, will do.” Her voice is strained, her concentration far more on her morning routine then helping her dad with sending photos. “If that’s all, I’ve got to go get ready for today. Talk soon,” 

Just as she’s about to hang up, her dad manages to get in three words sideways, “Alright, love you.” 

She’s already pressed end call before those last two words properly set in. 

Love you.

She can’t remember the last time she heard that from him. It doesn’t sound right coming out of his mouth, said in his voice. Maybe it more so feels like it should be directed towards someone else—Oscar, obviously comes to mind first. Her two fingers feel heavy on her cracked phone screen, now lingering over the lower half of her lockscreen instead of the red cross during a call. 

The grim taste of bile flods her mouth, a tight clench in her stomach accompanying it. She can’t even hear two simple, ordinary words, that most kids hear from their parents multiple times a day without wanting to emptying her stomach of anything possibly left in it. 

Part of her struggles to even attempt to just accept those words and move on. Take them how they are and keep going on with her day. She can’t, no amount of convincing herself that her relationship with Mark just is how it is helps feel better. Love you—how dare he. How dare he unravel all of the work she’s put in over these past weeks, months even.

Years, if she’s honest.

She blinks her contacts in, the stupid saline solution momentarily blinding her before allowing her to see everything too clearly. She immediately considers taking them out again and tossing them in the bin, forcing herself into a word where everything is just slightly blurry—-where colours bleed into eachother, forms mould into unrecognisable shapes, and absolutely nothing makes sense.

Her father makes no sense anyways, maybe it would feel more normal if everything was that confusing. 

She swallows down the bile rising in her throat, pressing the back of her hand to her lips as if that’ll stop the queasiness from spilling out. She grabs her toothbrush, slightly too aggressively that it sends the ceramic cup it rests in flying to the floor, smashing as it collides with the porcelain. 

“Fuck,” Tears of frustration pour down her cheeks as she kneels down, scooping up the pieces. She holds the sharp and jagged edged pieces tightly in her hands. She hates this feeling of a lack of control over her feelings, when she can’t hold it all in and just be brave. 

 It’s stupid—she knows it’s stupid—but there’s no escaping the feeling that Mark’s words weren’t really meant for her. He’s never been the type to throw around affection, atleast not when it’s directed toward her. She can’t remember a compliment he’s given her, a time he’s told her he’s proud of her, when he’s shown a genuine interest in her or anything she’s doing. She sees Oscar get all of that and more though, he gets every bit of affection from her dad that she’s spend her whole life chasing.

At first, she thought he was just closed off. Her mum left the house one day and never returned. As far as she knew, her mother never looked back, not for her or for her dad. At that point in time, she was too young to fully comprehend what had really happened. She was three at the time, and had always been a ‘daddy’s girl’ more than she’d ever been so connected to her mother.

So when her mum left, she was too young to even feel too sad about it. Mark on the other hand lost his girlfriend, the mother of his child. He was only 24 when she was born, and he was at the very beginning of his F1 career. When her mum left, he became her sole care taker, and there was no way he’d be able to take care of a toddler full time at tha point when he had to be travelling most weekends to go racing.

As a result, she spent the majority of her childhood living with friends and family of her dad, knowing her father solely from interviews on the tv screen and the few times he could manage to come back and visit. Her earliest memories of him are distant, fragmented—moments snatched in between races or fleeting phone calls filled with too much static and not enough warmth. 

It was everything to her nonetheless. She never had an overwhelming interest in cartoons or any type of kids shows, more often opting for rewatching the same 3 minute interview over and over, wrapped up in a princess blanket on the couch trying to reach out for him. 

Even when he came home, he was different then he was in the home videos she’d watch from years before she could properly understand what was ever going on. She just knew that unlike in those grainy homevideos of their family of three—there were no bedtime stories, no trips to the park, no beach trips. Just a man who showed up, exhausted, distracted, and buried in paperwork or phone calls. 

That’s not to say he was always switched off. When he would return home after a flight into Australia, if it was night, he would come into her room and tuck her in, leave her with a kiss on the forehead, regardless if she was asleep or not. Sometimes, she would intentionally stay up all night when she knew he’d be back in a few hours, just to be awake and see him for those brief few seconds he’d come into her room for.

Each time he’d be home for was fleeting and not even on the cusp of enough time. Before she could even begin to feel like her dad was home again, he’d leave again and she’d find herself back at someone else’s house, some other relative’s care. 

It was the only life she’d ever known, to be fair, and she knew of nothing other than it. She loved her dad, she loved watching him go racing. She loved talking about her dad in show and tell when she’d bring in an old helmet of his or a trophy. He was her greatest pride and joy, all she could ever dream to be.

Once she was old enough to understand why her dad was so distant unlike all the other dads of her friends at school, she formed a belief—a belief that as soon as he retired from F1, he’d be her dad again. A father first, a racecar driver second. 

At twelve years old, she finally got her wish. He announced his retirement from formula one to the world in 2013, and she found out at the same time as the rest of the world did. He came straight home to Australia the night of the Brazilian Grand Prix—the final race of his career—-and despite it being past one am when she heard the front door open and shut, she was still awake.

Her door opened and so did her eyes—-only very slightly though, maintaining a squint so it looked like she was aalseep. She didn’t want to get in trouble for staying up hours past her bedtime. She waited for the kiss, for him to tuck the corners of her sheets so tight into her bedframe that she’d have to use all the force of her arms to squirm out of, for him to whisper goodnight to her—-but it never came.

He just stood in her doorframe, his figure outlined by the dim hallway light behind him. He waited for about a minute at most, not making a noise except for the slight hum of his breathing, then he shut the door, leaving her room back in complete darkness. 

That signalled the end of her dad, and the beginning of Mark. 

And even eight years on, she still feels cold when she thinks about that night. She thinks about trying to tuck herself in as tightly as he always did, but not managing to make it stay, and she remembers pressing the mouth of her favoueite teddy bear to her forehead—a brown bear wearing a blue racesuit, fittingly called Dad—to mimic her return night kiss.

She also remembers crying until the sun came back up, and going downstairs in the following morning to see the door of her dad’s office shut and locked, basically flaunting a ‘do not disturb under any circumstances’ sign. She knew better to go against that, knew that even though she was a kid who just wanted to see her dad—-she knew to be a rule listener, rules were more important then want. 

Those barriers never broke down, only putting more distance between them. She’d waited for the end of 2013 like it was going to be the year her world would forever change. She imagined retirement would bring them closer together, mend any strange drift that him racing around the world would’ve caused. She pictured breakfast together—plates of freshly made pancakes, stacked tall, sopping with maple syrup, and oozing melted chocolate—going on bike rides as the sun warms up the horizon, singing along to radio in the car ride to school, trips to the beach when the weather was warm enough and the waves were strong enough to surf.

Instead, she made pancakes out of a bottled mix—almost always burnt or undercooked. She taught herself to ride a bike, far later than other kids, embarrassingly. She’d clean up her cuts when she’d fall off her training-wheel-less bike, wincing at the burn of antiseptic out of the medicine cabinet. She’d hum along to whatever songs she had saved on her iPhone 4 on the walk to school, and once she was confident enough in her ability, while she bike ride to school. 

There weren’t any beach near enough for her to get to by herself at the age of twelve without an adult bringing her, so she decided she would buy a beach house once she was old enough and spend near to every day either swimming, surfing, or making sand castles.

The first time she can remember him sitting down to talk to her, or at least saying something of actual substance beyond something meaningless and tossed out without a second thought, was him sitting down across from her at the dinner table, and immediately saying he would be racing in WEC the following year. 

She didn’t know what WEC was, she didn’t really care to know anyways. She knew it meant he was going to be gone again, just when she thought she had him back for good this time around. 

“Okay.” She’d looked down at her plate, piled with sausages and roast vegetables, both getting cold from how long she’d been waiting for him to join her for dinner. 

Neither of them said anything more that night, and she didn’t wait for him to give her a hug goodnight—he didn’t deserve it, just like he’d decided she didn’t deserve to be tucked in anymore.

Even then, it wasn’t until years later when she’d found out that he’d actually signed the contract with Porsche in Endurance racing all the way back in june that she truly ever let herself feel the pain of the betrayal that night. He was never retiring, never actually coming back for her—he would always love racing more than he’d ever love his own daughter.

She still feels like that little kid, crying in her bed back in 2013 over not getting a kiss. This time, it’s over getting a ‘love you’. Two opposite sides of a coin—a kid not getting the same display of affection they do, and a nineteen year old getting once when she hasn’t in years. Even though she’d felt so betrayed and alienated even back then, she’d never stopped trying to gain his approval. She was always convinced that maybe if she just tried hard enough, if she could do everything right, if she was perfect, then he’d notice her. He’d finally see her, finally be proud. 

She thought that after so many years, she would’ve outgrown it—left behind that little girl who just waited for the day her favourite person in the world felt the same about her.

“Fuck!” It’s the only word that’s managed to leave her mouth since she ended the call. It’s the only word that can begin to come close to how she’s feeling, but even then, it hardly does. She wants to scream, to throw the rest of the broken pieces across the room and watch them shatter even further. Instead, her hands clench tighter, her skin punctured by the rough corners of ceramic. 

Blood trickles down her palms, mixing with the tears that have long dripped down onto the smashed glass. Oscar would think she’s pathetic of he saw her right now, at least she wishes he would. In reality, she knows that Oscar would clean up the mess of the broken cup and then gently sit her down on the edge of her bed instead of having her crouched over in her bathroom. He’d clean up the bloody tears and the cuts—bandaging her hands up so gently. He’d hold her close, wipe away her tears while he says all the right things to make her feel even just the slightest bit better.

She wishes Oscar could just stop being so perfect for a second, wishes he could have a single flaw that she could pick on and belittle him for, make her dad see that Oscar isn’t as amazing as he seems to be.

But he is, and so she can’t even blame her dad for picking Oscar over her—she would too.  

The thought of Oscar is what gets her off the floor in the end. She deposits of the shattered cup and washes her hand clean, still wincing like she did on all those failed attempts of riding a bike. She brushes her teeth, she dries her hands off so the bandages will stay on, and she gets dressed for the day. Her hands shake slightly while she does her makeup, and her bottom lip quivers as she spreads a layer of lipgloss across it. 

But she holds it together. Two words aren’t worth crying over. She’s not that little girl anymore. She’s her own person, she’s more then just Mark’s daughter. She has her own life, her own world that’s separate from her father—sort of. She has Oscar who she loves, regardless of his involvement in racing. She has dreams to travel the world, to get that beach house, to swim every day. She has plans to go to university next year and to finally get out of the house that’s caused her so much heartbreak. 

She can’t grow in the same environment that once destroyed her.

The time on her phone hits 8:50, and she looks her reflection in the eyes. She’s not a little girl. She’s not that little girl. She’s never going to be that little girl again. Until she forces a smile, and it’s the same one she’s had her whole life. 

When the doorbell rings, she takes one last look at herself in the mirror, dragging her fingers through her hair one last time, making sure it lays over her shoulders nicely. Even though the girl staring back at her is completely shattered inside, her exterior is near perfection—her foundation covers the redness of her face, any lingering tears look just like the areas where she applied highlighter, her bitten and swollen lips just look plump with the addition of lipgloss. The bandages on her hands are neat and completely hide the cuts.

If she just keeps herself together a little longer, maybe no one will notice any cracks beneath her surface.

With a deep breath, she heads downstairs and to the front door. After a few moments of gathering up the strength to face someone in her current state—even when its her boyfriend who she loves more than anything—she opens the door. Oscar stands there, a white t-shirt and pair of pale blue jeans. His hair is awfully messy, clearly having had nothing done to it whatsoever. His eyes light up when he sees her, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “Hi, Osc”

“Hey, baby,” Her face cracks into a smile at the nickname, some of the awful tension finally loosening up. Luckily for her, he doesn’t seem to notice the way her hands are trembling or how glossy and red her eyes are—he’s as normal and warm as he always is.

“Breakfast?” He gestures outside, stepping aside for her. She gives him a small nod, stuffing her phone into the pocket of her darker wash jeans. “Hey, we matched,” He grins at her, getting a giggle out of her. He looks accomplished by that, just getting a small laugh out of his girlfriend. 

She hopes Oscar never feels at all like she feels right now, how she’s felt her whole life. Oscar deserves a life of pure and complete happiness, she believes that genuinely. “We did indeed,” She slips her fingers into intertwine with his. He shuts the door behind her, guiding her towards a cafe he’d found online that’s only a ten minute walk away. 

On the walk to the café, Oscar shoots off on a story from back in Monza about one of the team’s mechanics spilling a coffee on his race suit—an iced coffee luckily. Oscar right by her side paired with the bright sun, a pleasantly warm current temperature and the promise of croissants and doughnuts, she finds it hard to even be upset anymore.

They get a table for two outside, enough in the shade that there’s no painful glare as they try to look at eachother. The service is quick, their table quickly covered with a hot chocolate, a caramel latte, and far too many pastries and baked goods for only two people. Regardless, they dig in straight away, trading drinks and food every so often.

Time flies past them, their drinks grow cold and more food arrives to their table. She tears off a bit of a cinnamon roll and pops it into her mouth just as Oscar starts to talk. “I was thinking,” Oscar says. “Maybe we could drive down to the beach this weekend. Weather forecast is good, waves shouldn’t be too bad.”

The beach—the final, unfulfilled dream from the checklist. Back at twelve, she could manage to everything on her own that she wanted to do with her dad instead. She learned how to make pancakes, even if they were far from perfect. She rode bikes, though it took longer than it should have and resulted in a few too many grazed palms and scabbed knees. She sang along to the radio, filled the silence on her solitary walks instead of in the car. 

But the beach was always out of reach. She had no way to get there on her own, so she would just rely on the impossible hope that her dad would finally look up from his busy life and take her there, just like she’d always imagined they would every weekend. 

It’s not that she’s never been to a beach, of course. There were trips with friends or school excursions, moments that almost scratched the itch, but never quite hit the mark. The dream she had as a kid wasn’t just about the location—it was about being seen, being cared for, about sharing that simple and tender joy with someone who mattered. There was a kind of magic in the way she pictured it back then, in her childish daydreams: her and her dad running toward the water, splashing through the surf, him laughing in a way he never did at home.

The ‘someone’ who matters didn’t matter whether that was with her dad or just on her own. All she knew was that it couldn’t be someone else, either the two of them, or just her.

But with Oscar, everything is different. She doesn’t know how to put it into words, how to describe that Oscar isn’t like any other guy, how he’s just about the most importnant thing in the world to her.

Even the fact that without even knowing the weight behind it, he just offered that to her. Casually. Without hesitation. Without her needing to ask, or worse, beg. He doesn’t make it a whole big thing, doesn’t put her in the position of feeling guilty for wanting something simple, something that for once isn’t a compromise. 

“Yeah,” she smiles wide, nodding excitedly. Her voice is still soft though, probably incredibly adoring. “The beach sounds great.” Oscar smiles, content that he came up with an idea that she’s so taken with. To him, it’s no big deal, it’s just the beach. But to her, it is. It’s huge, it’s the final piece of her jigsaw. 

She can already imagine it so vividly—the two of them driving down the coast, windows down with the salty breeze whipping through her hair. She can feel the sun hot on her skin, hear the soft rush of the waves as they crash against the shore, can smell the heavy salt of the sea. 

It’s going to be the best weekend of her life, even better than she imagined it would be back when she was twelve.

y/n.webber

liked by lilymhe, zhouguanyu and 2,879 others

y/n.webber best kinda pick me up

user32 where's the top from?

-> y/n.webber na-kd!!

-> user32 thank u omg!

user17 those pastries omggg

-> y/n.webber they were literally to die for, so good 😙🤌

user21 i need a hair tut frrr

y/n.priv (private account)

liked by l.sarge, osc.priv, and 1 other

y/n.priv seen better days

l.sarge oscar cambailsm

-> osc.priv what word is that

-> l.sarge eating your own kind

-> geo.6arge3 pastry on pastry crime

-> l.sarge ????? who r u

-> l.sarge omg its george sorry im a big fan lol

bsf/n love u baby <3 take care of yourself :(

-> y/n.priv miss u sm </3

osc.priv ❤️🥰

last chapter, next chapter

oooofff, rough chapter. honestly, motivation has been nonexistent recently but honestly, writing this chapter felt so easy and enjoyable, it that makes any sense 🥲

anyways, fun beach times in the next chapter + more oscar centric, i promiseeee:)

taglist: @prettiest-at-the-party, @forza-charles, @sltwins, @sweetwh0re, @lucktales, @ellen3101, @nxlx96, @notantou, @cloud-55, @wisestarfishbouquet, @zupercoolgirl

[mirrorball-leclerc]

karma - part eleven

series masterlist

mark webber you people weren't being serious about the marriage thing were you?

oscar piastri-leclerc why? jealous? mark webber you are spending way too much time with aurora aurora button excuse me? he was this way when we found him oscar piastri-leclerc FOUND ME?! I'M NOT A STRAY DOG AURORA! aurora button i don't know where they found you

natalia leclerc wedding preparations are going great mark, thanks for asking

kimi raïkkönen who's getting married?

max verstappen fernando and santiago kimi raïkkönen oh, i didn't know they were in love. oh congrats 🌈 logan sargeant-leclerc i don't know if i should laugh...

liam lawson wait, so that wasn't a joke?

yuki tsunoda-leclerc no liam, that wasn't a joke

oscar piastri-leclerc WHEN DID YUKI BECOME A LECLERC?! natalia leclerc we adopted him last week. he brings me delicious food. logan sargeant-leclerc damn, he stole your mum and your grid mum

fernando alonso i would look radiant in a dress would i not?

santiago ruiz the second best bride out there amor fernando alonso WHO THE FUCK IS THE FIRST? santiago ruiz i'm sorry my love, but my daughter fernando alonso well you're not wrong natalia leclerc i'm crying

ben santos-ruiz can't wait until mom is calling dad about this.

mark webber yes, where is your wife in all of this? santiago ruiz fuck if i know and it's ex-wife, we're divorced

daniel ricciardo wedding of the century. do i get to be best man?

jenson button fuck off we all know that's going to me

ollie bearman-leclerc do i get to be flower boy?

pato o'ward-leclerc you're ring BEARer ollie bearman-leclerc that was a horrible pun aurora button i thought it was great ollie bearman-leclerc oh my god, you're so right, it's the best pun ever jenson button what the fuck is this? liam lawson isn't it obvious?

aurora button i'm flower girl right, with kimi?

jenson button since when are you friends with kimi antonelli? aurora button even since our super top secret mission against ferrari logan sargeant-leclerc oh my god what the fuck did you do? ollie bearman-leclerc the less you know the better. aurora button the less likely you are to end up being sued over what we did

lewis hamilton what the fuck did i miss?

mark webber finally someone with some common sense around here. tell them they're being stupid. lewis hamilton well that depends, what are they planning on doing? santiago ruiz fernando and i are getting married to mess with the sainz family lewis hamilton can i be best man? santiago ruiz if you agree this isn't a stupid idea and it's one of our best yet, then yes, you can be my best man. lewis hamilton deal, this isn't a stupid idea. mark webber WHAT THE FUCK?

ben santos-ruiz all of you are lacking several brain cells

george russell why did i just get a wedding invite via email to a wedding between natalia's dad and fernando?

lando norris i got one too

alex albon so did i, can someone please explain to me what the fuck is happening right now?

pierre gasly charles, what the fuck are you guys doing?

charles leclerc why do you think i'm planning something? they're in love calmar, let them get married max verstappen yeah pierre, let them be happy together. i didn’t take you for a homophobe pierre. pierre gasly do not start that shit back up again verstappen, the rumors just stopped.

esteban ocon i wasn't aware fernando also liked men

lance stroll just look at the tension he's had with jenson and mark

lando norris have those two always been here?

daniel ricciardo i'm also here, for the record

logan sargeant-leclerc does he not know that this is the unofficial grid group chat?

oscar piastri-leclerc mate, i don't think he's realized it.

george russell WILL SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON WITH NATALIA'S DAD AND FERNANDO?

lewis hamilton fernando and santiago are getting married to piss off the sainz family. liam lawson which i thought that they were joking about but turns out they're being very much serious about it.

yuki tsunoda-leclerc i think it's a fantastic idea!

oscar piastri-leclerc stop coming for my title of favorite child yuki! logan sargeant-leclerc we all know leo is favorite followed by ollie. yuki tsunoda-leclerc i stole your mum and now i'm stealing your grid mum charles leclerc i feel like i should do something about this but i'm helping my wife plan a wedding

lance stroll DO I GET TO BE A GROOMSMEN??

max verstappen ask nando lance stroll HE SAID YES!

daniel ricciardo seb just texted me saying he's officiating the wedding.

lando norris you people are going too far for the bit

max verstappen don't you dare tell carlos or i'll take you out next race

lando norris my lips are sealed.

oscar piastri-leclerc don't worry, i'll have aurora threaten him

logan sargeant-leclerc just heard lando's girly scream

pierre gasly you people are afraid of a pipsqueak?

alex albon say what you will but aurora is a small ball of fury much like yuki logan sargeant-leclerc she's terrifying mate yuki tsunoda-leclerc i like her, she gets me

natalia_leclerc, francesca.cgomes, and aurorabutton added new stories

aurora has not let go of leo since we got here, now he wants my ice cream...how do i tell him no? everything is so tiny and adorable 🥺 i will never again agree to go out with both kika and nat, this is the third 'errand' we've ran today because of our super top secret mission.

liam lawson genuine question, what gender are baby leclercs going to be?

natalia ruiz there's a bet going on that it's going to be girls but i'm like 83% certain that it's going to be a girl and a boy. yuki tsunoda-leclerc who are we to argue with momma leclerc? natalia ruiz yuki, you might just be my favorite person today

max verstappen damn yuki really is coming for that favorite child title

natalia ruiz i don't have a favorite child but if i did it would be whoever brought me more stroopwafels right now

ollie bearman I'M ON MY WAY! oscar piastri-leclerc OLLIE STOP IT! I'M ON MY WAY!

pato o'ward-leclerc if you see me in max's apartment, no you didn't.

max verstappen HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET INTO MY APARTMENT? pato o'ward-leclerc penelope let me in, after kelly said it was okay

aurora button jokes on you guys, i broke into lando's apartment, it's much closer

jenson button SINCE WHEN ARE YOU A LECLERC? aurora button my plan is to marry into the family. i still don't know how i'm going to achieve that. maybe i'll marry ollie or logan

logan sargeant-leclerc no thanks, you can marry ollie.

logan sargeant-leclerc he just let out an unholy screech

fernando alonso oh i get it now mark webber there was something to get from that?

lewis hamilton when's the wedding?

natalia ruiz this sunday, clear your schedules

ben santos-ruiz at what point have we gone too far for the bit?

santiago ruiz not yet

sebastian vettel just got ordained, this is going to be great!!

mark webber this is going to be a disaster

alex albon WHY MUST I BE FORSAKEN?! WHY MUST I SUFFER?! WHY DO I HAVE TO BE THEIR NEXT VICTIM?! WHY DO BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO GOOD PEOPLE?

max verstappen what the fuck is wrong with him

aurora button have you seen the announcement? on the f1 twitter page?

max verstappen twitter doesn't exist anymore aurora it's x now

aurora button i refuse to call it fucking x

logan sargeant-leclerc all my homies hate the sainz family

charles leclerc why does this group even exist?

aurora button because we all hate the sainz family, duh?

natalia leclerc you okay logan?

logan sargeant-leclerc it's not like james it a secret that he was looking for my replacement

alex albon LOGAN! ARE YOU OKAY?!

logan sargeant-leclerc i could be better but it helps that i'm staying with osc

alex albon MAX, YOUR ASS BETTER RETIRE! I WANT THAT RED BULL SEAT! I'LL BE SECOND DRIVER AGAIN!

charles leclerc i'll take alex as a teammate

ollie bearman-leclerc damn, guess i'll die or something. charles leclerc in the sense that you still need time to mature at haas before you drive at red bull aurora button sure, just say you hate him or something. charles leclerc this is why you tripped this morning

mick schumacher spending an awful lot of time with the leclercs aren't you aurora?

aurora button shut the fuck up, focus on alex's mental breakdown

alex albon IT'S JUST UNFAIR! THERE'S NO FUCKIGN WAY THIS IS HAPPENING TO ME!

alex albon why do bad things happen to good people? i've never done anything wrong

natalia leclerc that's a lie, you dared me to jump off the roof into the pool and i broke my leg alex albon and somehow it's my fault that you didn't stick the landing?

max verstappen 🫵🤣

oscar piastri-leclerc at least he won't me terrorize us and will be at the back of the grid

pato o'ward-leclerc rip ollie bearman, he's going to get killed by carlos sainz ollie bearman-leclerc WHAT THE FUCK WHY? logan sargeant-leclerc you're a leclerc lovechild. man am i happy to be gone for once

ollie bearman-leclerc i hope everyone's pillow is warm on both sides

aurora button damn what he say fuck me for ollie bearman-leclerc except for you of course

max verstappen back to our regularly scheduled clownery i see

aurora button fuck you ollie bearman-leclerc fuck you

alex albon I'M SUFFERING! DOES ANYONE KNOW ANY MERCENARIES?? OR PAID ASSASSINS?

mick schumacher alex, mate, let it go, you're fucked alex albon I'LL LITERALLY KILL MYSELF BEFORE I HAVE TO DRIVE ALONGSIDE THAT MAN AS MY TEAMMATE! HE'S GOING TO KILL ME!!

natalia leclerc this family is a fucking nightmare...

alex albon YOU'RE LITERALLY PLANNING A WEDDING BETWEEN FERNANDO AND YOUR DAD TO PISS OFF THE SAINZ FAMILY!! charles leclerc IT'S A GENIUS PLAN ALEXANDER!! alex albon I'VE BEEN CURSED AND YOU'RE FUCKING LAUGHING? max verstappen pretty much, yeah

alex albon fuck you guys, i'll go complain to george or lily instead.

natalia leclerc remind me to pay lily and george for dealing with you instead of us alex albon FUCK OFF!

liked by natalia_leclerc, fernandoalo_oficial, olliebearman and others

marvelgossip well marvel nerds, we've got some new hot gossip this week, starring none other than the lovely santiago ruiz who will be playing reed richards aka mr. fantastic, in the new fantastic four adaptation. while arriving on the set of marvel’s fantastic four, mr. ruiz, was seen wearing a ring on his ring finger that wasn't there before. could this be a plot detail or is mr. ruiz perhaps married to someone unknown? 

tagged: santiagoruiz

view all comments

user1 JOEL MILLER I SWEAR TO THOR IF YOU SECRETLY GOT MARRIED-

user2 this is probably just another plot point guys because if santiago ruiz, one of the hottest names in hollywood got married, we'd for sure know about it.

user3 you people call yourselves marvel nerds but you don't know that canonically reed richards is married to sue storm, of course he's wearing a fucking ring user4 i only watched the movies with jessica alba and chris evans and even i know this shit

user5 guys it's cool, he's married to me, no need to worry about it

user6 boring, old news, santiago got married like a week ago

user7 HE'S MARRIED? TO FUCKING WHO?? user6 he's married to fernando alonso?? a 2x spanish formula 1 world champion, i fear this is old news user7 OLD NEWS TO FUCKING WHO? THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I'M HEARING ABOUT IT??

fernandoalo_oficial oh when will my husband return from war

user8 this man has 7.3 million instagram followers and he's thirsting over santiago ruiz on a marvel gossip page fernandoalo_oficial have you seen him?

estebanocon wedding of the century folks, wedding of the century

olliebearman wedding was in spain, i ended up in portugal with kimi and aurora

oscarpiastri i'm convinced you three would've ended up in the harbor had the wedding been in monaco aurorabutton you don't know shit, this was a decision we made while sober

user9 i've never been so confused in my life and i take ap chemistry

marvelgossip there's never been this many verified pages on my account, holy shit

natalia_leclerc that's papa right there

marvelgossip natalia, is your father married to fernando alonso? natalia_leclerc yes, my dad did in fact marry fernando alonso charles_leclerc it was the highlight of my year and i won monaco and found out my wife is pregnant

jensonbutton guess i just lost my husband

user10 are you talking about fernando or santiago? jensonbutton yes

user11 millions of fangirls around the world just let out the ugliest scream of pain

user12 forget the fangirls the f1 drivers, who are known to love santiago ruiz just let out the ugliest screams ever alex_albon they get me, i waited years to marry santiago ruiz and white man did it in 3 weeks landonorris truly mourning the loss of single santiago ruiz and i guess fernando too but mostly for santiago

liked by pierregasly, sukiwaterhouse, santiagoruiz and others

natalia_leclerc helped put together a top secret wedding in two weeks with a some help, what did you guys do? 

tagged: santiagoruiz, fernandoalo_oficial, charles_leclerc, francesca.cgomes, aurorabutton

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mrsamclaflin thanks for the invite, it was very fun!

natalia_leclerc thank you for stopping by on such short notice sam mrsamclaflin of course, call me for any other super top secret wedding and i'll be there.

user13 wait, so this wasn't a joke?

liamlawson30 that's what i thought the entire time fernandoalo_oficial you were there when i proposed, much to my displeasure user14 these two beefing even off track will never not be funny to me

yukitsunoda0511 abuelo looking great in that picture!

user15 when the hell did yuki become a leclerc? yukitsunoda0511 when i became the only one mom knew who could cook a good meal oscarpiastri i can cook too yuki logansargeant mate, i hate to tell you this, but no, you can't

lewishamilton i couldn't tell this wedding was pulled together in a few weeks

francesca.cgomes that's such a huge compliment coming from you pierregasly i complimented you guys too? aurorabutton but is your name sir lewis hamilton? do you have 7 world titles? do you sing the words, "i like to play the doctor, operation?" user16 that song will haunt lewis for the rest of his life

olliebearman shoutout to my super great ring bear skills

aurorabutton ring bearER kimi.antonelli that joke wasn't funny the first 300 times olliebearman the flower girl who tripped doesn't get to speak kimi.antonelli GABRIEL TRIPPED ME? gabrielbortoleto_ i should've been flower girl not you or aurora aurorabutton stay pressed fernando's 2nd favorite child gabrielbortoleto WHO THE HELL IS THE FIRST? aurorabutton me bitch

user17 summer break so crazy a marvel actor and an f1 driver just got married

user18 don't forget the f1 announcement user19 thoughts and prayers to alex albon, he's going to need them ♥︎ liked by charles_leclerc, natalia_leclerc, aurorabutton and others

aurorabutton i think we outdid ourselves with this one

francesca.cgomes it almost makes up for the stress we caused you? aurorabutton not a fuckign chance, you two owe me big time natalia_leclerc but i'm pregnant? aurorabutton once you're no longer pregnant then

fernandoalo_oficial is this, my hija?

natalia_leclerc papa?? bensantos_ruiz i refuse to call this man dad santiagoruiz that's not very nice benjamin fernandoalo_oficial aurora said to put, "who's your daddy now bitch?"

user20 i hope santiago knows that by marrying fernando he just became a stepfather to all of fernando's grid children.

sukiwaterhouse santiago made a jaw-dropping groom and i guess fernando's there too ♥︎ liked by landonorris, georgerussell63, liamlawson and others

user21 not all the drivers in the likes of that comment

user22 i can't be the only one confused on the fernando alonso and santiago ruiz dating timeline, right?

user23 when the hell did they start dating is my first question? user24 how long have they been together is my second question? user25 so many questions and so little answers

jenson button WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU TWO IDIOTS?!

jenson button AURORA KATHERINE BUTTON WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?

jenson button AND SOMEONE ADD KIMI!

natalia leclerc added kimi antonelli

kimi antonelli i didn't do it!

jenson button WHERE ARE THEY?!

kimi antonelli hiding at lewis' apartment aurora button SNITCHES END UP IN DITCHES KIMI!

ollie bearman-leclerc your middle name is katherine?

max verstappen that's information you should know about your wife before you marry her ollie bearman-leclerc YOU'RE NOT HELPING VERSTAPPEN!

logan sargeant-leclerc well she did say she was going to become a leclerc one way or another

liam lawson wow, one leclerc got married in vegas and the other got married drunk in portugal yuki tsunoda-leclerc don't forget one got married for the bit

lewis hamilton don't leave blood all over my apartment jenson

ollie bearman-leclerc IS THAT HIM POUNDING ON THE DOOR?!

aurora button IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! WE WERE DRUNK!

ollie bearman-leclerc I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE! LEWIS DON'T LET HIM IN!

natalia leclerc what the hell is going on?

kimi antonelli ollie and aurora accidentally got married in portugal and now jenson's going to most likely kill ollie. oscar piastri-leclerc does this mean i get to be the favorite child now?

daniel ricciardo what the hell did i fucking miss?

liam lawson so fucking much dude

yuki tsunoda-leclerc jenson's probably killing ollie as we speak

lewis hamilton the fuckers barricaded themselves in my room with roscoe

ollie bearman-leclerc I HAVE SO MUCH LIVE FOR! I JUST GOT AN F1 SEAT! I GOT MARRIED?!

jenson button YOU'RE NOT FUCKIGN HELPING BEARMAN! I'M GOING TO FILET YOU!

aurora button man, where the hell is mick to talk some sense into me when i fucking need it?

kimi raïkkönen jenson, don't you dare touch a hair on his head or i will have one of my drivers run you over

max verstappen and think about it like this, they may be married but they still haven't consummated the marriage

ollie bearman-leclerc IT'S LIKE YOU FUCKING WANT ME DEAD OR SOMETHING? jenson button WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN BEARMAN?!

aurora button he's pounding on the door and roscoe's barking again

ollie bearman-leclerc WE DIDN'T CONSUMMATE THE MARRIAGE! WE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW WE WERE MARRIED UNTIL KIMI SENT US A PICTURE OF THE DOCUMENT!

ben santos-ruiz this isn't the middle ages. we don't need to consummate a marriage

aurora button now my dad is arguing with lewis on the pros and cons of pissing off kimi by killing my husband

jenson button STOP CALLING HIM THAT! aurora button legally he is my husband? jenson button legally i can kill both of you aurora button legally mom would kill you for killing me and her son-in-law who she hasn't even met

charles leclerc jenson, please don't kill my son

ollie bearman-leclerc THAT'S IT? THAT'S ALL YOU'RE GOING TO SAY? natalia leclerc he's painting the nursery, he's very busy ollie

ollie bearman-leclerc SOMEONE ELSE IS POUNDING ON THE DOOR!!

ollie bearman-leclerc oh it's seb, thank god oscar piastri-leclerc this is better than any show i could ever watch sebastian vettel ollie, please come out now, jenson is restrained. we need to talk about this.

liam lawson man don't take away my favorite reality show

aurora button i'll let you know how it goes liam

pato o'ward-leclerc what in the everliving fuck did i fucking miss?

¡taglist!

@vroomvroommuppett // @charlesgirl16 // @someoneintheworld // @evans-dejong // @minmira95 // @d3kstar // @lollie0024 // @magicalspit // @rockyhayzkid // @weekendlusting // @ironspdy // @namgification // @moonyzsworld // @emilyval // @lorenakaspersen // @spilled-coffee-cup // @butterfly-lover // @blushmimi // @lovely-blackinnon // @six-call // @bingewatche // @vroomvroom95 // @lesliiieeeee // @fletchingarcher // @casperlikej // @minmira95 // @nichmeddar // @chezmardybum // @nikfigueiredo // @buckybarnessweetheart // @scuderiadevils // @bellalilo // @sargeantdumbass // @seesaw-it // @evie-119 // @doodlehunz // @dark-night-sky-99 // @si1ver06 // @blupblupfish // @delululeclerc @hinamesgigantica // @lilsiz // @meadhbhcavanagh // @nitiii // @lillysbigwilly // @theimaginehotspot // @woozarts // @sid-is-gr8 // @carlossainzapologist //

¡not taggable!

@janeholt3 // @iconicbookstore // @Fall-bambi // @leanneg97 // @asparklysoul // @gemnetjournal // @mgmoore // @itscrzy // @alymeddar // @raavadakedavra // @solidalibi // @bi-bitch-bi // @a-beaverhausen // @landonorizzz // @ScarlettWidow3000 // @krishasworld // @myloveforfandom-blog // @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir //

click here to be added to the karma taglist

¡leclerc-s speaks! 𝜗𝜚 yeah, i have no excuses for this. i was sleep deprived when i started writing this and just continued it after. and yes, the faceclaim for natalia’s father is pedro pascal, but that’s because i love him. 𝜗𝜚 anyway, happy new year!! note: this will transfer over in the mastermind fic but it will be more in depth.

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

[landorris]

popular | lando norris x fem! reader

summary; who says instagram models don’t know a thing about f1?

fc; darianka sanchez

warnings; english is not my first language, this is my firts ever smau

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

yourusername

liked by friendsuser, danielricciardo and others

yourusername: back in ny for a bit ⭐️💋

user1: she’s so mother

frienduser: come home i miss you😕😕

yourusername: ik i miss you too, it’s just for this week 😖💞

user2: who is she and why is daniel in her likes?

user3: she’s an instagram model from australia, oscar and her have been following each other for years now but we don’t know if they’re friends

user4: isn’t she a bit young for danny?

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lando norris phone

your phone

lando norris had followed you on instagram

you followed lando norris on instagram

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, lando norris and others

yourusername: finally home

user1: you’re so coquette coded

user2: lacy

user3: not lando joining

user4: lando norris what are you doing here?

user5: idk what they see in her

landonorris: you like bows?! i also like bows what a coincidence

yourusername: ahah so cool norriz

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danielricciardo

liked by yourusername, landonorris and others

danielricciardo: home race was alright 🦘

tagged: yourusername

yourusername: i’m so cool😎

danielricciardo: i got payed to post that photo

yourusername: all i see is lies👩🏽‍🦯

user1: MOTHER IN THE PADDOCK

user2: i want a win

user3: what is she doing here?

user4: i hate when f1 teams just invite this instagram models who know nothing about f1 instead of inviting people who actually like it

user5: right?! she probably doesn’t even know how many drivers are in f1

landonorris: good race mate🙂

danielricciardo: you two lando, wonder why🤭

user6: what is this supposed to mean?

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yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, frienduser and others

yourusername: damn i wish my dad taught me more about f1 🫤

tagged: aussiegrit

aussiegrit: damn you should’ve spent more time in the paddock with me

yourusername: yeah, it’s not like i went to ALL of your races

danielricciardo: now everyone knows im besties with your dad

yourusername: no you’re not

aussiegrit: come to dinner tonight daniel

danielricciardo: see!! i’m going mark 😁

user1: now i understand why is she so beautiful

user2: this explains a lot about her relationship with daniel

user3: OH SHE ATE THIS

landonorris: 😦

yourusername: what?

landonorris: text!

yourusername: kay

user4: not lando discovering with us😭😭

user5: she gagged that girl in daniel’s post

user6: i want your dad 🤭

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your phone

yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and others

yourusername: last few days at home before japan

danielricciardo: you’re coming to japan?

yourusername: yeah! i got invited

danielricciardo: and why am i only hearing about this now?

yourusername: i only got the invite today

danielricciardo: he’s cooking 🧑🏽‍🍳

user1: who is stealing my gf?

user2: is it lando

user3: guys hear me out i think it’s lando

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lando.jpg

liked by yourusername, aussiegrit and others

lando.jpg: japan🇯🇵⭐️

user1: are they……soft launching?

danielricciardo: i wonder who it is on the second picture

user2: still don’t like her

user3: they think we don’t know 😂

user4: ladies we lost him

user5: he posted her, man is in love

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yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and others

yourusername: i think i like japan

danielricciardo: i knew you would change your mind

user1: can he fight?

aussiegrit: have fun kiddo!

yourusername: i love you dad💞

user2: yeah it’s definitely her

user3: are they dating ?

landonorris: i think i really really like japan too

user4: never beating the norriz allegations

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[makis-eyebrows]

Request: <33

Save The Last Dance

With Lando being so busy, he forgets one of the most important days of his daughter’s life.

It Was Supposed to Be Perfect.

Y/n had been planning her Sweet 16 with her dad, Lando Norris, for almost six months. Every little detail — the fairy lights, the playlist, even the chocolate fountain — they had picked out together.

But more importantly, they were supposed to do their thing.

Every year, since she turned five, they had a Daddy-Daughter Dance on her birthday. No matter where he was — Monaco, Miami, Melbourne — he would fly back just to spin her around under the stars.

Tonight was supposed to be no different.

Except it was.

Y/n sat at her table, her perfectly done-up hair beginning to wilt from the waiting, her soft pink dress crumpling beneath her as she curled into herself.

The party buzzed around her — friends laughing, balloons popping, cameras flashing — but all she could feel was the massive, aching emptiness.

Her mom, standing across the room, kept glancing at her phone, a tight, worried frown forming.

Another half-hour passed.

The DJ cued the special song she and her dad had picked. Her heart dropped into her stomach.

Still no Lando.

Something inside her cracked.

Face burning with betrayal, anger, and sadness all tangled up, Y/n grabbed her bag, slipped out the side door, and ordered an Uber. Her phone buzzed nonstop — friends, her mom, even the DJ — but she ignored them all.

She didn’t even say goodbye.

Back at Home

Y/n slammed the door behind her, tore off her heels, and sobbed into her pillow.

At the venue, her mom stood with her phone to her ear, furious.

She finally got through.

Call with Lando:

Mom: "Pick up your phone, Lando."

Lando (panicked): "What? What’s wrong?"

Mom: "You forgot her birthday. YOU FORGOT HER BIRTHDAY."

Lando: "WHAT? NO— wait, wait, what time is it?"

Mom: "It’s past 9 PM. She left her own party. Alone."

Silence.

Heavy, gut-wrenching silence.

Then the line went dead — Lando already moving.

Texts (Group Chat: F1 Idiots)

Lando:

I messed up. I missed Y/n’s Sweet 16. She’s heartbroken. What do I do.

Smooth Operator🌶:

Mate... you’re gonna have to move mountains.

Prince Of Monaco:

Big grand gesture. Flowers. Apology. Tears. Beg.

GOATed Hamilton:

Don't just say sorry. SHOW her you’re sorry. Make a memory she won’t forget.

Os🏎:

Build a time machine.

Lando:

NOT HELPING OSCAR.

Mr. Saterday:

Seriously. You need to make her feel like the most important person in the world right now.

Lando:

Ok. Ok. I’ve got an idea. Pray for me.

At Home – Late Night

Y/n sat on her bed, still in her dress, tear tracks marking her cheeks.

Then she heard it — music.

Soft, familiar, coming from outside.

Curious and still angry, she opened her window.

And there he was.

Lando Norris, standing in their backyard, fairy lights strung up everywhere, holding a giant speaker playing their song, and a hand-painted cardboard sign that read:

"I’m sorry I missed the first dance.

Can I have the last one?"

Her breath hitched.

She hesitated.

Her heart fought her mind.

But when she saw his eyes — red-rimmed, glassy, desperate — she couldn’t stay mad.

Slipping out the door, barefoot and trembling, Y/n padded across the grass.

Without a word, Lando opened his arms.

And she ran into them.

"I'm sorry, Y/n," he whispered into her hair, voice cracking. "I'm so, so sorry, bunny. You didn't deserve that. You deserve everything."

Tears spilled down her cheeks again — but this time, they were different. Softer. Healing.

"I thought you forgot about me," she mumbled.

"Never. Not even for a second." He pulled back, wiping her tears with the sleeve of his hoodie. "I messed up. But I'm going to spend every day making sure you know how much you mean to me."

He bowed dramatically, making her giggle despite herself. "May I have this dance?"

With a small, tearful laugh, Y/n nodded.

Under the fairy lights, barefoot in the grass, Lando and Y/n swayed slowly to their song — late, messy, imperfect — but maybe even more meaningful than if everything had gone to plan.

And as the night wrapped around them, it was clear:

They had saved the most important dance after all.

I tried my best chat. I enjoyed making it, though. Hopefully, you will enjoy it, pookie.

Don't have much to say other than I was trustworthy enough to be mod in an F1 group that yall should totally join, eventually.

I tried my best chat. I enjoyed making it though. Hopefully you will enjoy it pookie.

Don't have much to say other than I was trustworthy enough to be mod in an F1 group that yall should totally join, eventually.

That's Gang Gang out!!!!♡

[redsnowdrop]

Max about Oscar: "I've said it before, people sometimes forget a little bit- last year was his second year, now third- and he's very solid, very calm in his approach, and I like that. It shows on track. He delivers when he has to deliver, barely makes any mistakes.. And that's what you need to do when you want to fight for a championship."

"I also think, with Mark by his side, he's helping him a lot.. People learn from their own careers, and that's what I had with my dad, and Mark is also trying to advise Oscar in that. And then ofcourse, Oscar has to do the job at the end of the day, he's using his talent. And that's great to see."

-> F1 Masterlist <-