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hurtblossom · 1 month ago

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Crush ln4

Pairing : Lando Norris x Female!Reader

Summary : Quadrant has a new videographer

Warnings : Angst, quite long, bad english, Lando being clueless (as always)

(Y/N) couldn’t believe she was here—working for Quadrant, his brand. When she’d gotten the offer, she had hesitated for a moment, unsure if being this close to Lando Norris would be a good idea. She’d been a fan of his for years, following his career from his early F1 days, her admiration growing with every race and every glimpse of his playful, goofy personality online. Somewhere along the way, admiration had turned into something more—a quiet, unspoken crush she’d never dreamed of acting on.

But when the opportunity to join Quadrant as a videographer came up, she couldn’t resist. It was a chance to work with an incredible team, hone her skills, and, well, maybe get to know Lando a little better. Not that he’d notice her, she thought wryly. Lando Norris didn’t seem like the type to look twice at someone like her.

Her first day on set, she was practically buzzing with nerves. Max had introduced her to the team, and everyone had been friendly, welcoming her into the fold. But Lando? He hadn’t even glanced her way. Too busy cracking jokes with Max and Ria, his energy filling the room like a spotlight she could never step into.

Still, she stayed in the background, focusing on her work, capturing the chaos of the group with her camera. That was her job, after all—to be invisible, to let the team shine while she stayed behind the lens. She told herself it was better this way. No awkward introductions, no chance to embarrass herself. But even as she worked, she couldn’t help stealing glances at him, her heart skipping every time he laughed or flashed that signature grin.

The shoot that day was arcade basketball, and the Quadrant crew was in rare form—teasing, shouting, and turning everything into a competition. Lando was at the center of it all, of course, trash-talking Max one second and tossing a ball wildly off-target the next. (Y/N) stayed behind her camera, quietly capturing every moment, trying not to let her smile show too much.

It wasn’t until halfway through the shoot that Lando finally noticed her.

“Who’s that?” he asked loudly, pointing at her mid-throw. The basketball clattered off the rim as the rest of the group burst into laughter.

Max rolled his eyes. “She’s been here all day, mate. That’s (Y/N). She’s our new videographer.”

“New videographer?” Lando repeated, his brow furrowing. He walked over, tossing the ball to the side. “And no one told me?”

“I assumed you’d notice,” Max shot back with a grin.

Lando ignored him, stopping in front of her with an apologetic smile. “Hi. Sorry about that. I’m Lando. Welcome to Quadrant.”

She swallowed hard, clutching the camera like a lifeline. Up close, he was even more magnetic, his warm eyes and easy smile making her heart race. “Hi. I’m (Y/N),” she managed, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

“You’ve been filming this whole time?” he asked, tilting his head. “Wow, I didn’t even notice. That’s impressive.”

She blushed, ducking her head. “That’s kind of the goal.”

Lando chuckled. “Fair enough. Well, glad to have you. Hope you’re ready for this lot—they’re a handful.”

“She’s already handling it better than you would,” Ria teased, earning another round of laughter.

(Y/N) smiled, relaxing slightly as the group’s banter filled the room again. But as Lando walked back to his game, she couldn’t help feeling the way her cheeks burned, her mind replaying the brief moment they’d shared.

The rest of the shoot went smoothly, but (Y/N) found it increasingly hard to concentrate with Lando in her peripheral vision. Every joke he cracked, every time he glanced her way, she felt her heart skip a beat. She knew she was being ridiculous—he was just being friendly, just doing his job. But still, she couldn’t shake the tiny flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was something more.

After the shoot, as the team started packing up, Lando approached her again. “Hey, (Y/N),” he said casually, hands in his pockets. “Thanks for today. You did great.”

“Thanks,” she replied, smiling up at him. “You guys made it easy. You’re all… pretty entertaining.”

He grinned. “Entertaining, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

She laughed softly, feeling a bit bolder. “Well, I’ve seen worse basketball skills, if that helps.”

Lando gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Wow. First day and already roasting me. I like it.”

Her cheeks warmed, but she smiled back, her nerves melting under his playful energy. For a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the room, the rest of the team fading into the background. But then Max called out, breaking the moment, and Lando gave her a quick nod before heading off, leaving her heart racing.

In the weeks that followed, (Y/N) settled into her role, quickly becoming an integral part of the team. She captured every wild moment, every inside joke, and every ridiculous stunt with precision, earning praise from everyone—including Lando. But the more time she spent around him, the harder it became to ignore her feelings.

He was just so… him. Funny, charming, effortlessly confident. She found herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t control, her quiet admiration growing with every shared laugh and fleeting glance.

But she kept her feelings hidden, afraid of what might happen if he found out. To him, she was just the camera girl, part of the team but always on the edges. And she told herself that was enough, even as her heart ached for more.

One evening, after a long day of filming, the team had dispersed, leaving just her and Lando in the studio. She was reviewing footage on her laptop when he wandered over, leaning against the table beside her.

“Got anything good?” he asked, peering at the screen.

She smiled, tilting the laptop so he could see. “Plenty of missed shots and bad jokes. Pretty standard.”

He laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “That’s Quadrant for you.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the footage play. But then Lando turned to her, his expression softer than usual. “You’ve been doing an amazing job, you know. I don’t think we’ve said that enough.”

Her heart fluttered at his words. “Thanks, Lando. That means a lot.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. “You’re really good at this, (Y/N). And… I’m glad you’re here.”

The sincerity in his voice took her by surprise, and she felt her cheeks warm under his gaze. She wanted to say something, to tell him how much his words meant, but the lump in her throat stopped her.

Instead, she smiled, her voice soft. “Thanks. I’m glad to be here.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, the air between them thick with unspoken words. But just as quickly as the moment had come, it passed, and Lando leaned back, flashing her a grin. “Alright, I’ll let you get back to it. Don’t make me look too bad in the edits, yeah?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “No promises.”

As he walked away, her heart swelled with both happiness and longing. She knew she couldn’t let herself hope for more—not yet. But for now, she was content to stay behind the lens, capturing every moment, every laugh, every smile, knowing that even if he didn’t see her the way she saw him, at least she could be a part of his world.

Weeks had passed since (Y/N) had joined Quadrant, and every day felt like a mix of joy and heartbreak. Working alongside Lando was everything she’d dreamed of—he was kind, funny, and always made her feel like a part of the team. But the more time she spent with him, the more her crush deepened, and with it, the painful realization that he didn’t see her that way.

Still, she told herself it didn’t matter. Being close to him, even as just a colleague, was enough. Or at least, that’s what she kept repeating.

The team was gearing up for another shoot, and (Y/N) was already busy setting up the cameras and mics. Lando was running late, as usual, and the rest of the group was milling around, chatting and joking. When Lando finally arrived, he wasn’t alone.

“Guys, this is Magui,” he announced, stepping into the room with a confident grin. The girl beside him was striking—beautiful, with long, wavy hair and a radiant smile that seemed to light up the room. “She’s joining us for today’s video.”

(Y/N)’s heart sank the moment she saw them. Magui was clearly close to Lando; the way he stood next to her, the ease of their laughter, the little glances they exchanged—it was painfully obvious.

Max raised an eyebrow. “New guest star, huh? Fancy.”

Magui laughed, her voice warm and melodic. “I’m just here to make sure Lando doesn’t embarrass himself too much.”

“Good luck with that,” Ria quipped, earning a round of laughter.

(Y/N) forced a smile, keeping her head down as she fiddled with her equipment. Her chest felt tight, but she told herself it was nothing. Lando was free to bring whoever he wanted into the group—it wasn’t like she had any claim on him. But as she watched them banter, the way Lando’s face lit up every time Magui said something, the ache in her heart grew.

The video shoot was a nightmare for (Y/N). Not because of technical issues—everything went smoothly on that front—but because every moment felt like a knife twisting in her chest. Lando and Magui were front and center, their chemistry undeniable as they joked and competed with the rest of the team. Magui fit in effortlessly, her charisma matching Lando’s energy in a way that made it impossible to look away.

“Magui, you’ve got to beat him at this,” Max called out during one of the challenges, handing her the controller.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Magui said, her eyes sparkling. “I’ve got this.”

Lando laughed, leaning closer to her. “You think you can beat me? Good luck.”

Watching them, (Y/N) felt like an outsider. She stayed behind the camera, filming their interactions, capturing the moments that everyone else would find entertaining—but for her, it was torture. She couldn’t stop herself from wondering what it would be like if she were the one standing next to him, sharing those laughs, being the one to catch his attention.

When the shoot finally wrapped up, (Y/N) was the first to start packing up her gear. She wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, before anyone noticed the strain on her face.

But as she was putting away the last of her equipment, Lando approached her, his usual grin in place. “Hey, (Y/N), thanks for today. You made us all look good as always.”

She forced a smile, avoiding his gaze. “Just doing my job.”

He tilted his head, studying her for a moment. “You okay? You’ve been quiet today.”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, her voice clipped. “Just tired.”

Lando frowned, clearly not convinced, but before he could press further, Magui called out to him from across the room. “Lando! Come on, we’re heading out!”

He glanced back at (Y/N), hesitating for a moment before nodding. “Alright. See you later?”

“Yeah,” she said softly, watching as he walked away, his attention already back on Magui.

As the door closed behind them, (Y/N) sank into her chair, her hands trembling slightly. She told herself it was silly to feel this way, that she was just reading too much into things. But the truth was undeniable: she had fallen for Lando, and watching him with someone else felt like her heart was breaking in slow motion.

That night, (Y/N) sat in her small apartment, staring at the footage she’d captured earlier. She watched as Lando and Magui laughed, the way he looked at her with an ease and warmth that he’d never shown (Y/N). Her chest ached as she replayed the clips, over and over, the reality of the situation sinking in.

Lando didn’t see her. Not the way she wanted him to. To him, she was just the camera girl, the one who stayed in the background, capturing the moments that made him shine. And while she was proud of her work, proud to be a part of the team, she couldn’t help but feel invisible.

The next day, the Quadrant group chat was buzzing with messages about the next video, everyone chiming in with ideas and suggestions. Lando sent a message saying he wanted to bring Magui back for another shoot, and the rest of the team seemed thrilled.

(Y/N) stared at the screen, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She wanted to be happy for him, to support him the way she always had. But the thought of watching them together again, of filming moments that felt like they were cutting her open from the inside, was almost too much to bear.

Before she could overthink it, she typed out a quick message: “I’m feeling under the weather. Might need to sit this one out.”

Lando responded almost immediately. “That’s okay! Rest up. We’ll handle it.”

His words were kind, but they only made her feel worse. She wanted him to notice, to ask her what was wrong, to care. But he didn’t. And that, more than anything, told her what she needed to know.

As she set her phone down, tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. She’d known from the start that her crush on Lando was one-sided, but seeing it play out so clearly, so painfully, made it impossible to ignore.

For now, all she could do was step back, focus on her work, and remind herself that sometimes, even when you care deeply about someone, the best thing you can do is let them go.

~~~

(Y/N) took the next few days off, staying away from the group chat and ignoring messages from the team. She needed space—not just from Lando, but from the whole world of Quadrant that revolved around him. She threw herself into editing past footage, focusing on the technical details to distract herself from the pain still lodged in her chest.

But avoiding Lando was harder than she thought. Every video she edited, every laugh and playful insult she clipped together, reminded her of him. Of the warmth he brought into every room, of the little sparks of kindness he’d shown her when she thought, for just a moment, that he might see her as more than the girl behind the camera.

Two Weeks Later

(Y/N) was back on set, quietly filming another chaotic Quadrant shoot. Magui was there again, her presence bright and cheerful as always. She was every bit as perfect as (Y/N) had remembered—funny, confident, and effortlessly charming. And Lando? He seemed happier than ever, his energy electric whenever Magui was around.

(Y/N) did her best to stay in the background, focusing on her work and keeping her distance. But it didn’t take long for Lando to notice.

“Hey, (Y/N),” he called out during a break, jogging over to her as the others grabbed drinks. “You okay? You’ve been really quiet lately.”

She forced a smile, adjusting her camera to avoid looking at him directly. “I’m fine. Just busy.”

“Busy?” he repeated, frowning slightly. “You’ve barely said a word to anyone. Did I do something wrong?”

Her heart twisted at the concern in his voice. Of course, Lando would think it was about him, but not for the reason he’d assume. She shook her head quickly. “No, you didn’t do anything. I’ve just… had a lot on my mind.”

Lando studied her, his brows furrowing. “Are you sure? Because if there’s something bothering you, you can tell me.”

The sincerity in his tone made her throat tighten. She wanted to tell him—wanted to say everything she’d been holding back. But as she looked at him, his eyes filled with concern, she knew she couldn’t. He wasn’t hers to confide in. He never had been.

“I’m fine, Lando,” she said softly. “Really.”

He hesitated, clearly unconvinced, but before he could press further, Magui called out to him, waving him over. He glanced back at (Y/N), looking like he wanted to say more, but then turned and jogged toward Magui, his smile lighting up as he joined her.

(Y/N) watched them from behind the camera, the ache in her chest spreading like wildfire. She felt silly, pathetic even, for letting this affect her so much. But no matter how hard she tried to push it down, the pain refused to fade.

Later That Evening

The shoot had wrapped, and (Y/N) stayed behind to pack up her equipment while the others headed out for dinner. She’d made an excuse about needing to finish editing, though in truth, she just couldn’t bear to sit across from Lando and Magui, pretending everything was fine.

The studio was quiet, the only sound the hum of her laptop as she loaded the footage from the day. She tried to focus, but her mind kept drifting, the weight of everything she felt pressing down on her.

“Still here?”

The voice startled her, and she turned to see Lando standing in the doorway, his hoodie pulled up, his hair slightly messy from the day. He looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“I thought you were going to dinner with the others,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugged, stepping inside. “I was, but… I wanted to check on you first.”

She swallowed hard, looking down at her laptop. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that,” he said, leaning against the table beside her. “But I don’t believe you.”

His words made her chest tighten, and she felt the tears she’d been holding back threatening to spill. She shook her head, trying to keep her voice steady. “It’s nothing, Lando. Really. I’m just… tired.”

“(Y/N),” he said softly, his tone gentle but insistent. “Talk to me. Please.”

She looked up at him then, meeting his gaze, and for a moment, she considered telling him everything. But the thought of his reaction—of the awkwardness, the pity, the possibility of losing what little connection they had—stopped her.

“It’s not something you need to worry about,” she said instead, her voice cracking slightly. “Just… let it go.”

He didn’t move, his eyes searching hers, and for a moment, she thought he might push further. But then he nodded, stepping back. “Okay,” he said quietly. “But if you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

She watched as he left, the door closing softly behind him. And as the silence settled over her once again, the tears finally fell, her heart breaking under the weight of everything she couldn’t say.

A Week Later

The next video shoot was another big one, with the entire team involved, including Magui. (Y/N) tried to focus on her work, but it was harder than ever, especially with Lando and Magui’s playful chemistry on full display.

During a break, (Y/N) stepped outside for some air, her chest feeling tight. She leaned against the wall, closing her eyes and trying to steady her breathing.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Her eyes snapped open to see Lando standing a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, his expression serious.

“I haven’t—”

“You have,” he interrupted gently, stepping closer. “And I don’t know why, but it’s been driving me crazy.”

She looked away, her heart pounding. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Stop saying that,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “You’re not fine, (Y/N). I can see it. And if it’s something I did—”

“It’s not you,” she blurted out, cutting him off.

He frowned, confused. “Then what is it?”

She hesitated, the words on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t bring herself to say them. Instead, she shook her head, forcing a weak smile. “It’s nothing, Lando. Forget it.”

He stared at her for a long moment, his frustration clear. But before he could say anything else, Max called out for him from inside, breaking the moment.

Lando sighed, glancing toward the door. “This isn’t over,” he said softly before walking away.

As she watched him go, (Y/N) felt the weight of her unspoken feelings pressing down on her once again. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep this up, but one thing was clear: something had to change—whether it was her feelings for Lando or her place in his world.

And as the door closed behind him, she realized that letting go of Lando might be the hardest thing she’d ever have to do.

~~~

The decision didn’t come easily, but (Y/N) knew it was the right one. Every day with Quadrant had become a painful reminder of what she couldn’t have, of the unspoken feelings she carried for Lando and the unshakable knowledge that he didn’t feel the same. Watching him with Magui, seeing how naturally she fit into his world, was more than (Y/N) could handle. It was time to step back, to take care of herself before the weight of it all consumed her.

Reading his words brought tears to her eyes. She’d grown to love the team, their chaotic energy, and even the endless teasing. It wasn’t their fault she’d fallen for someone who didn’t see her the way she saw him. Still, she felt a pang of guilt as she hit send on her final reply.

~~~

She didn’t tell Lando directly. She wasn’t sure how, or if he’d even care. Max said he’d inform the team, and that felt like enough. Packing up her gear and stepping away from the studio for the last time was bittersweet. She lingered in the quiet space, memories of laughter and camaraderie playing in her mind.

As she locked the door behind her, she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when Lando found out she was gone. Would he even notice? The thought lingered as she drove home, a mixture of sadness and relief washing over her.

Two Days Later

The first message came from Ria.

Ria: “What’s this about you leaving? Are you okay? Let me know if you need to talk.”

Then Max.

Max: “Hope you’re doing alright. The studio’s not the same without you.”

She responded to each of them, assuring them she was fine, that she just needed time. But the message she was dreading never came. Lando didn’t reach out—not a text, not a call. The silence was deafening, confirming what she’d feared all along: he didn’t notice. Or worse, he didn’t care.

Weeks Passed

(Y/N) threw herself into freelance work, taking on projects that let her focus on her craft without the emotional baggage that came with Quadrant. Slowly, the ache in her chest began to fade. She stopped checking their YouTube channel obsessively, stopped scrolling through photos of Lando and Magui together. She convinced herself that she was moving on.

But one evening, as she was editing late into the night, her phone buzzed with an unexpected notification.

Lando Norris: Hey. Can we talk?

Her heart skipped a beat, her fingers frozen over her keyboard. She stared at the message, a flood of emotions rushing in. She wanted to ignore it, to pretend she hadn’t seen it, but her curiosity—and the tiny flicker of hope she couldn’t extinguish—got the better of her.

(Y/N): Sure. What’s up?

The reply came almost instantly.

Lando: Are you free to meet? I’d rather do this in person.

Her stomach churned with nerves, but she agreed, setting a time and place for the next day. She spent the night replaying every possibility in her mind, trying to prepare herself for whatever he wanted to say.

~~~

They met at a quiet café, tucked away from the usual chaos of their lives. Lando was already there when she arrived, his hat pulled low, his expression uncharacteristically serious. He stood as she approached, offering her a small, hesitant smile.

“Hey,” he said softly, gesturing to the seat across from him. “Thanks for coming.”

She nodded, sitting down and folding her hands in her lap. “What’s this about, Lando?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Max told me you left.”

Her throat tightened, but she kept her voice steady. “I needed some time.”

“Why?” he asked, leaning forward, his gaze searching hers. “Did something happen? Was it… me?”

The vulnerability in his voice caught her off guard. She hesitated, unsure how to respond. “It wasn’t you, Lando. Not entirely.”

His brows furrowed. “Then what? You were such a big part of the team, (Y/N). I… I miss having you around.”

Her heart ached at his words, but she forced herself to stay grounded. “It’s complicated.”

“Then explain it to me,” he pressed, his voice soft but insistent. “Because I feel like I missed something, and I don’t want to keep missing it.”

She met his gaze, the weight of everything she’d held back pressing down on her. Taking a deep breath, she finally spoke.

“I liked you, Lando,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I liked you more than I should have, and it made things… hard. Watching you with Magui, being part of the team but always on the outside—it hurt. So I left, because I couldn’t keep doing that to myself.”

His eyes widened, surprise flickering across his face. For a moment, he said nothing, and she braced herself for the rejection she knew was coming.

“I had no idea,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought… I thought you just didn’t want to get close.”

She shook her head, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I couldn’t get close, Lando. Not when you didn’t see me the way I saw you.”

He leaned back, running a hand over his face. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. And Magui… she’s just a friend. I never realized how it must have looked.”

She blinked, his words taking a moment to register. “Just a friend?”

He nodded, his expression earnest. “I didn’t… I don’t feel that way about her. I didn’t even know you felt this way about me.”

Silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken possibilities. Lando reached across the table, his hand brushing hers lightly.

“Is it too late to fix this?” he asked softly.

(Y/N) looked at him, her heart torn between hope and fear. She didn’t know the answer, but for the first time in weeks, she felt the faintest spark of possibility. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late to rewrite their story.

please comment and let me know what you thought of the story

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formulawolff · 3 months ago

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nothing else matters — m.v.

pairing: max verstappen x wag!reader

word count: (idek tbh)

warnings: mentions of menstrual cycle, reader is on her period, some cursing, max being tender, bf mode to the max (i think i’m hilarious), tooth-rotting fluff

a/n -> i’m on my period (for the second time this month!) and im miserable rn. (+ fried) so i apologize if this is terrible (i typed it on my phone) i just wanted to write something self-indulgent af.

euphoria radiates off of him, the energy so contagious it brings an entire crew to their feet.

his cheeks are flushed, tinged a rosy hue from the rush of it all. his eyes are bright, shining as the team surrounds him, jostling him back and forth. you can hear his laughter, the way it rings so wonderfully in your ears as they shout his name.

“max! max! max! max! max!”

“all right, all right,” he catches his breath, “let’s not get too excited. it’s only pole.”

“only pole?” you find yourself scoffing as another familiar voice fills the air, “max, this is huge for us!”

“well the race isn’t won yet,” the corners of your lips twitch, a smile forming as max clears his throat, “we can celebrate when we finally win a fucking race.”

christian horner exhales, the remark from max clearly striking a chord, “well, i can’t disagree with you there. all right everyone, let’s get to it. we have a lot to do before the race tomorrow if we want to remind everyone of who we are.”

you remain in the corner of the space, arms folded across your chest as the crew disperses. you take in the way max’s jaw clenches as people flurry around, his gaze brimmed with desperation.

he was looking for someone.

and that someone was you.

however, you don’t move a muscle, sitting as still as possible. another ripple of pain courses through you, yet you clamp down on your tongue. the cramping sensation originates from your lower abdomen, this wave far worse than the last.

hanging your head, tears well up in your eyes. the cramps started just this morning, right around nine. now, the austin sun was dipping below the horizon, promising of dusk.

your hands ball up, squeezing into fists as the pain intensifies. the adrenaline from qualifying was wearing off, and fuck, was it wearing off quicker than you expected.

“hey,” there’s a figure in front of you, his voice soft as he kneels, “baby, what’s going on? do i need to get a medi—“

“no,” you hiss, “i’m fine.”

“come on,” hands envelop yours, “follow me.”

you want to protest, yet he’s already helping you to your feet, wrapping an arm around your waist. you instinctively lean into him, grateful for his touch. a few members of the crew pause from their work, murmuring among themselves. you shrink a little, shame burning within as max practically allows you to lean against him.

fuck, was this utterly embarrassing.

oh, how the rumors were going to fly.

max verstappen’s girlfriend was so drunk at qualifying that he had to practically carry her out.

what. a. headline.

the walk from the garage to the motorhome is a blur.

before you know it, max has you in bed, prompting you to lay down. you obey, pulling the cover over you as he follows, bringing you in against his chest.

he hasn’t showered yet, and you pick up traces of his cologne mixed with perspiration. his hair is a haphazard mess, ruffled from the gear and his cap. his clothes cling to his body, more than likely from the sweat and heat of the suit.

lips graze your temple, fingers tenderly massaging your scalp.

“what’s going on?”

“nothing,” you shrug, “i’m okay.”

“bullshit,” he tuts. fingers grasp your chin, forcing you to look upward, “what. is. going. on?”

“i started my period,” your lower lip trembles, “and i’ve been dealing with cramps all day.”

“and you didn’t say anything?” concern dances in his intense gaze, “baby, there are medical staff on site who would be happy to provide you with anything you need. i’m sure asking for a couple of pain relievers wouldn’t have been an issue. you’ve been suffering like this all day?”

“it wasn’t a big deal,” you retort, warmth flooding your cheeks as tears overflow, “i wasn’t suffering. it’s just my period. i was fi—“

“don’t say that shit,” he cuts in, “when i saw you, you looked miserable. absolutely fucking miserable. you were nearly curled up in the fetal position in that chair.”

“maybe i just didn’t want to draw any attention to myself,” you mutter, burying your head into the crook of his neck, “i didn’t want to seem like i was high maintenance.”

“baby,” a chuckle rumbles in his chest, “asking someone for some medication or somewhere to lay down is not high maintenance.”

tears splatter against his shirt, your eyes squeezing shut, “now i just feel fucking worse because i took you away from you job. you’re going to get into some shit with the fia and it’s my fault.”

“listen to me,” his arms pull you in even tighter, his mouth planting gentle kisses along your forehead, “are you listening to me?”

“yes,” you nod, sniffling, “i’m listening.”

“when it comes to you, nothing else matters. you are my only priority. ensuring that you’re safe and sound comes first. taking care of you is what’s important to me. i would much rather make sure you’re feeling better than attend a press conference. i’ll deal with the repercussions in the morning.”

“are you sure?” your voice shakes, threatening to crescendo into a sob.

“yes,” he murmurs, “i’m sure. i love you.”

“i love you,” the words are a strangled cry, the fabric now soaked as the tears spill, “i love you so much, max.”

“i love you more,” heated hands find your back, kneading, “what do you need from me baby? say it and it’s yours.”

“i just want you.”

a laugh bubbles up in his throat, “you can have me, but you’re going to get a hot shower. then we’re going to go to hospitality to get you some food. after that, you can have me as much as you want. deal?”

“deal,” you shake your head, “can we get something sweet too?”

“we’ll get all the sweet things,” the words are tender, just what you needed to hear, “and we can pick you up a stuffy from the airport on our way home. we can even look for a trinket or two. the ones i know you like, the sonny angels or calico critters. how does that sound?”

“that sounds perfect,” the tears have ceased, a sense of relief rippling within max, “i would love that, max. thank you for being the best boyfriend ever.”

at that, he can’t help but melt a little at the sincerity laced within your tone, “of course, baby. anything for you. i can’t bear the thought of you in pain or uncomfortable. i’ll do anything to help you feel better.”

“even if it interferes with your job?”

“even if i have to pull out of the race tomorrow.”

“you’re ridiculous,” a light giggle fills the space, max’s lips forming a wide grin, “you wouldn’t do that.”

oh but for you, max verstappen would.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #mv33 #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #mv1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #mv33 rb #mv1 x reader

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take2me5to9hell9 · 2 months ago

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It's giving

#charles leclerc #max verstappen #lestappen #formula 1 #ferrari #red bull racing #Max's balls racing #Wag of the year award goes to charles leclerc #pawns be pawning

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fastandcarlos · 6 months ago

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Padel Queen : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: when max suggests couples padel with george and carmen, he worries about how good you'll be, little does he know though what a master of padel you are

“Are you sure that this is a good idea?” Max asked you one final time as you took the racket that he offered out of his hands. “It’s not too late for us to say no,” he reminded you, anxious eyes watching as you stood yourself up.

You looked the part, but playing the part? You weren’t too sure. When Carmen and George invited you for a game of padel you were keen to find out more about the game that Max seemed to love so much, but now that you were there, your confidence had diminished.

The noise of rackets hitting the ball continually made you jump as you put your trainers on, the speed that some of the balls were struck made you flinch in fear, and the groans of effort that echoed left you questioning how athletic you really were.

“I’ve got this!” You cheered, nudging against Max’s side, refusing to let him see just how nervous you were.

The two of you walked onto the court, picking the side you’d serve from whilst George and Carmen finished getting themselves ready. Max walked across and picked up one of the balls, taking you to the baseline at the back of the court.

“I’m going to teach you how to serve so you’re an expert in the game,” he informed you, turning you so that you were facing the right way.

You allowed Max to guide you, listening closely to his instructions, copying his movements whenever he demonstrated, constantly reminding you that he was an expert of padel.

The first time you served, you just managed to get the ball over the net, watching it bounce dejectedly on the other side of the court.

“How was that?” You grinned, spinning to face Max, his expression not matching your own. “What? What did I do wrong?”

Max scratched nervously over the top of his head, feeling his heart break as he saw how excited you were before him. “Well…you got it over the net, that’s a start.”

You could tell Max was trying to be kind as he went to fetch the ball, handing it back to you again. You stood sideways, like he said, body facing where you wanted to aim, like he said, arm holding the ball out, like he said. But Max wasn’t happy yet. The feeling of a figure right behind you made your body tense up as Max held his hands over both of yours.

“Let’s do it together,” he whispered, getting you to throw the ball up, swinging the racket back. You let Max guide you as the racket hit the ball, watching it go over the net with plenty more power the second time around. “And make sure you follow through with your swing too.”

The two of you practised a few more times before George and Carmen stepped onto the court. Max jogged over to you as you got yourself ready, draping his arm across your shoulders.

“We can beat these two easily,” he joked, trying his best to lighten your mood and fill you with confidence, “serve like I taught you and we’ll be just fine.”

You nodded in reply as George shouted for you to hurry up, taking your positions on the court. Whilst you and Carmen both stood relaxed, George and Max both looked up for the battle, determined to beat each other and earn themselves bragging rights.

George passed the ball to Carmen to start your game off, with Max easily reaching the serve and returning the ball. You found yourself a little lost on the court as Max raced around, almost forgetting as if you were there most of the time. After a bit of back and forth, mostly between the boys, Max lobbed the ball just over Carmen’s head giving you the point.

“That was perfect,” Max cheered as he turned around to approach you, offering his fist for you to fist bump.

You couldn’t help but admire the sudden competitiveness that appeared in Max, it didn’t matter if he was in a car, on the court, or just getting into the car with you, he wanted to be first no matter what.

“It’s your turn to serve now,” Max told you, placing the ball on your racket, “just remember what I told you and you’ll be just fine.”

You took the ball as Max offered you a reassuring smile, turning your body so that you were facing George. You could be forgiven for thinking he was a professional with how he stood, leaving you intimidated opposite him.

You remembered Max’s words as you swung the racket back, throwing the ball up into the air. You took a deep breath before swinging the racket forwards, watching on as the ball flew across the net, leaving a dumfounded George swinging and missing to return your serve.

“What the-“

“Babe! Where did that come from?”

George was frozen to the spot, feeling Carmen’s eyes on him. Meanwhile, Max ran over to you, wrapping his arms around your frame and twirling you around in the air.

“Have you secretly been practising or something?” Max chuckled as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “that was one of the best serves that I’ve ever seen in a game of padel.”

You weren’t quite sure where it came from, and truthfully, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to hit a ball like that again, but feeling the excitement that radiated from Max made it all worth it. He couldn’t quite believe what he had seen, laughing away to himself in disbelief.

“Turns out I might be better at this than you,” you teased once Max put you down, “I guess you can just call me the padel queen.”

“You told me that she’d never played before,” George called out, letting the reality of what just happened sink in.

Max shrugged in reply, unable to help George. “I swear, I’ve never seen her play like that before. If you want to quit now, just say. I think we know who’s going to win this game now.”

George brushed his hand through his hair as Max took a hold of your hand, leading you back to your positions on court again. There was still a wave of surprise across the net from you as Max took the ball to serve this time.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do it?” You joked, feeling Max’s eyes land on you, the corners of his smile turning up.

“Hey, you might be good, but you’ve got nothing on me yet.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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norrisainz33 · 5 months ago

Text

Volley || OP81

☆ summary: in which oscar is obsessed with his olympic volleyball playing wife

☆ pairing: oscar piastri x olympic!reader

☆ fc & warnings: jordan thompson + pinterest & none

☆ requested: yes! thank you for the oscar and volleyball suggestion 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ⠀

oscarpiastri has made a post

liked by landonorris, mclarenf1, yourbff, ynpiastri, and 576,293 others

oscarpiastri: one last little trip before my gorgeous wife (god i love saying that) heads to paris! good luck champ 🧡

view all 453 comments

user1: when will it be my turn

user2: they’re the cutest newly weds i hate it (i love it)

landonorris: let’s gooooo mrs piastri!!!!

ynpiastri: thank you lan 🥹

nicolepiastri: i’m so proud of you y/n/n!

ynpiastri: love you mama p 🤍

ynpiastri: thank you for the best getaway. see you soon my love 🫶🏻

oscarpiastri: i’ll be waiting with open arms 🤍

ynpiastri has made a post

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, teamusa, yourbff, and 45,345 others

ynpiastri: reporting live from paris!!! ready for my first ever olympics with the best team i could ever ask for. let’s get it girls 💪🏻

view all 201 comments

user3: my god she’s gorgeous

user4: hit that ball!! or whatever it is you do in volleyball idk i love you and hope you win

lewishamilton: you got this 💪🏻

ynpiastri: thank you lew 🤍

user5: never watched volleyball before but you know darn well im tuning in for mrs piastri 🗣️

mclarenf1: sending love from the mtc

alexandrasaintmleux: good luck pretty girl

ynpiastri: says the prettiest girl

oscarpiastri: yes, that first picture is my phone background now! thank you!

ynpiastri: you’re so cute stop 🥹

landonorris: he’s telling the truth i saw it

texts between you and oscar

teamusa has made a post

liked by oscarpiastri, ynpiastri, yourbff, yourteammate1, yourteammate2, mclarenf1 and 89,567 others

teamusa: and just like that, our girls are headed to the next round! USA’s volleyball teams sweeps France to move onto the quarterfinals 💪🏻🇺🇸

view all 235 comments

user8: Y/N SPOTTING

ynpiastri: could not be more proud of this team 😭

user24: we could not be more proud of you y/n

yourbff: AND I AM SO PROUD OF YOU MS GIRL

logansargeant: ayooo let’s goooo!!

user12: logan being here is so important to me ok

user18: loscar crumbs 🥲

oscarpiastri: that’s my wife 🗣️

user22: we know buddy, no one’s tryna take her

oscarpiastri: absolutely incredible match! so proud of everyone on this team

user65: oscar supporting everyone not just his girl is so wholesome

user66: oscar is the politest cat, making sure he compliments everyone

user88: america 🇺🇸 🦅🇺🇸

user24: came for y/n, staying bc i know love volleyball

oscarpiastri has made a post

liked by yourbff, ynpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris, maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, and 756,021 others

oscarpiastri: it’s missing y/n o’clock so enjoy some photos from our honeymoon. the gold medal match is tomorrow so i expect you all to tune in!

view all 432 comments

user13: ty for reminding me i’m single

user14: mans is obsessed with his wife

landonorris: down bad o’clock i see

maxverstappen1: oh let him be! you’ll understand one day

oscarpiastri: what max said !!!

landonorris: okok i get it, i don’t know what it’s like to be a husband or whatever

ynpiastri: and when i say i miss you more?

oscarpiastri: brb hopping on a plane to paris

mclarenf1: oscar you have a race tomorrow

ynpiastri: pretty please admin

mclarenf1: who’s gonna drive the car then?

ynpiastri: zak!

mclarenf1: 🥹 be for real y/n/n

ynpiastri has added to their story

view story replies

oscarpiastri: how do you manage to always look so beautiful???

ynpiastri: osc 😭 you’re too sweet

oscarpiastri: never too sweet for you

landonorris: who’s your teammate 👀

ynpiastri: off limits norris

landonorris: you never let me have any fun y/n

ynpiastri: for good reason!!!

yourbff: you are glowing

user13: our favorite olympian fr

user22: i’ll be watching and screaming for mrs piastri like my life depends on it

oscarpiastri has made a post

liked by ynpiastri, logansargeant, mclarenf1, maxverstappen1, landonorris, yourbff, and 324,387 others

oscarpiastri: y/n “gold medalist” piastri. that’s it, that’s the post

view all 516 comments

user44: yayyayayyayayaay !!!!!!

carmenmundt: my favorite volleyball star

georgerussell63: mine too!

logansargeant: RAHHHH AMERICA 🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸 (did i do it right?)

ynpiastri: yes 🤍

user2: AHAHA LOGAN

user3: he’s one of us

user66: my mom won her first gold medal not long after my dad won his first grand prix 🥹 oh i love them

landonorris: DO YOU HEAR ME SCREAMING CROM HERE?!

ynpiastri: omg that was you?

user4: i love their friendship

mclarenf1: congratulations mrs piastri!!!

nicolepiastri: that’s our girl! what an incredible moment 🧡

user88: so proud so proud

oscarpiastri has made a post

liked by ynpiastri, yourbff, teamusa, lewishamilton, mclarenf1 and 876,355 others

oscarpiastri: my gold medal baby is home

view all 608 comments

user18: husband oscar content 😭

landonorris: thank goodness, i couldn’t handle you crying about missing her anymore

ynpiastri: u were crying abt missing me too you muppet

landonorris: your point?

ynpiastri: glad to be back with you my boy 🤍

oscarpiastri: glad you’re back but i’m already looking forward to the next olympics!! i love seeing my girl succeed

logansargeant: a bunch of simps 🤭

user19: if my partner doesn’t post me like this i don’t want it

user22: @.my partner take notes 🗣️

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ⠀

a/n: another installment of the olympic reader! as always thank you for reading 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ⠀

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menagerofmischief · 2 months ago

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Nugget Update (MV1)

sumary: y/n's always giddy after getting a nugget update, sure she loves her best boy, but it also has something to do with the cat sitter sending the updates

driver!reader x cat sitter!max verstappen -> habs incoming... series masterlist

cw: not fia approved words, a bit of lance hate (I don't actually hate him), mutual pinning, the grid teasing the reader, lot of appearances from the reader's cat, kissing, kinda mean!reader (to the grid)

wc: 4.1k

a/n: this is my first time writing in 2nd person so bear with me. also, I low key hate this and it may be shit. not proof read!

“Well aren’t you a ball of sunshine?” A voice called out, disturbing the peace - or the closest thing to peace you could have near a Formula 1 track.

Your gaze snapped up, eyes narrowing as you took in the man standing on the entry of the RedBull garage. “Hello, Charles,” you replied, a teasing bite obviously heard in your voice as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know you wanted to experience what a successful garage looks like but I thought Ferrari had a better hold on you.”

Charles laughs, his eyes crinkling as his lips stretch into a smile. Teasing Charles was always a fun time but that’s all it was, just a bit of fun. It never stretched into something meaner, just two people showing affection by teasing each other.

Charles had been your very first real friend on the grid. The first to offer his hand with a smile and genuinely mean it. The first to congratulate you on a win after getting out of the car or the first to say that the next race would be better. Really, he was your best friend, but you would never tell him that or it would go to his head.

“Funny, very funny.” He said, his accent thick. His eyes slid around the motor home until finally meeting your own. “Lot of drivers are going out for drinks, came by to invite you.”

“I don’t Charles,” you started to say, going through your mental list of excuses, searching for the best one to use to avoid this social interaction.

“Oh come on!” He whined, rolling his eyes. He gave you a look that let you know you could stop thinking about an excuse because he wasn’t going to be buying it. “We won’t stay that long and it’s night race tomorrow so you don’t need to wake up at the crack of dawn.”

You pressed your lips together, the lip gloss previously applied making them slide against each other easily.

Charles kissed his teeth, nodding his head along. Fine, he’ll play the game. “Some of the WAG’s are coming as well.”

“Are you really trying to lure me out by promising female company?”

“Is it working?”

“Eh,” you shrugged your shoulders. “Will you pay my tab?”

Charles scoffed. “Pay your tab?” He asked, sounding as if you had asked him for his firstborn. “You’re filthy rich! You have a bigger salary than me!”

“Yeah, they do pay world champions a bit extra, comes with the title.” You replied, grinning at him, a wide teasing grin, your eyes twinkling.

“Fine whatever, I’ll pay your tab.” He said, raising his hands in surrender. “Now go take that suit off and shower, you look disgusting.”

“You look like a trash can threw you up!”

“It threw me up because it saw you!” Charles shouted back in response, his back already turned to you as he walked away, back to the Ferrari garage.

And that’s how you ended up in the bar, an hour later. Squished in the not too comfortable and definitely not meant to sit so many people, booth. With George’s girlfriend Carmen on your left, and Pierre’s girlfriend Kika on your right, and deep in conversation with both of them.

You feel your phone vibrate under your hand on the table, and the screen lights up, showing off your wallpaper, a picture of your beloved cat Nugget.

You tune off from the conversation the moment the message arrives, grabbing your phone and pulling it in towards you. Your face lights up, lips stretching into a smile as your eyes focus on the sender ID. Maxie.

Or rather Max. The very cute guy who was your cat sitter whenever you were out and about in the world, chasing the racing track.

With a quick move of your fingers, you swipe up, opening your phone and going into the message app. Fingers quickly tapping along the screen of your phone as you type out your reply.

With a smile you closed the messages app, pressing your fingers against the button on the side of your phone, watching the screen go black before setting it face down onto the table. As you looked back up, Lando’s amused yet teasing expression caught your eye.

You leaned forward against the table, pressing your hands to the wooden surface as you attempted to get a bit closer to the driver on the other side of the table. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh nothing,” he said with a laugh. “Just wondering who you’re texting, that’s all.” He intertwined his fingers, elbows pressed against the table and leaned forward as well. “You were all grumpy cat but then you get a message and suddenly you’re all smiles.”

“Grumpy cat?” You scoff, rolling your eyes at the McLaren driver. “I’m not a grumpy cat. And for the record, that was Nugget’s babysitter and he was sending me a picture of Nugget.”

Lando laughs, there’s a twinkle in his eyes that tells you he wants to say more but he holds himself back. “Can I see? I haven’t seen the orange gremlin in so long.”

“That’s very mean,” you say, opening your phone to show him the picture, that Max had sent you. “Nugget would never say that about you.”

“That’s because Nugget can’t speak.” He looks at the screen and his lips twist upward in a smirk. “Who’s Maxie?”

You breathe out through your nose, teeth digging into your bottom lip. When you speak your voice is sharp, it leaves no room for questioning things or an invite to ask more questions. “The cat sitter.”

“I’m sure that’s all he is.” Lando laughs when you show him your middle finger before settling back into your seat and returning to the previously abandoned conversation with the two WAG’s.

The race went pretty smoothly, as always. Starting from pole, keeping the lead the whole race and with a 20s gap to car in P2. Everything after that was pretty much a blur, the interviews, partying through the night with the grid and boarding the jet early in the morning.

The sun already started setting by the time you made it to Monaco. With a sigh you rummaged through your bag, blindly feeling around the stuff inside before your fingers finally wrapped around the keys.

Opening the apartment door you walked inside, gently laying down your suitcase as your eyes settled on the scene in your living room. Right there, laying on your couch, in deep sleep, and cuddling your cat is Max Verstappen.

His hair had fallen over his eyes and the position he’s in looks rather uncomfortable, you’re sure his body will be aching when he wakes up. His chest was raising and falling with each breath he took, little sighs slipping past his lips. Nugget was cuddled up to him, curled in a ball.

You looked at him for a few moments before starting to move around as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake him up.

Max had been cat sitting for you for a while now. Half of last season and now half of this one so almost a year. He was a sweet, kinda shy, mostly nerdy guy you ran into in a coffee shop and spilled his coffee. You offered to buy him a new one and he joined you for the coffee and you got to talking when he said he was looking for a job so you offered him to become your pet sitter.

At that point you really did need someone to look after your cat while you were gone, since you had broken up with your ex who usually took care of Nugget while you were away. And you couldn’t leave Nugget with your parents since your father was allergic to cats.

Now, your best friend who had been working in a different country had returned to Monaco and said she’d be more than happy to look after Nugget - but you wanted to keep Max around.

Already having grown used to coming home after a race weekend to find him there, just existing in your space.

Nugget’s whiskers twitch, his eyes opening and he pulls himself away from Max, stretches out and then trots over to you, rubbing his head against your leg affectionately while purring. He let out a happy, albeit a bit too loud, meow when you picked him up and on the other side of the room Max began stirring from his sleep.

He opened his eyes, a bit confused, and rubbed his knuckles against his eyes to wake up, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light filling up the room.

“You’re back,” he says, his voice is gentle, still sleepy and a bit quiet. His eyes meet yours and he offers you a sweet smile that has you immediately smiling back at him. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep, sorry about that.”

“Oh no, it’s no problem,” you reply, running your hand over Nugget’s fur as the cat lay happily in your arms. “You can use the guest bedroom if you’re tired, you know. The couch may be expensive but that doesn’t mean it’s comfortable for sleep.”

“I didn’t want to overstep,” Max said, pulling himself up into a sitting position. You approached the couch and sat down, the cat nestling in your lap and purring in content. Max smiled, reaching out his hand and petting Nugget.

“Nonsense Max, you’re not overstepping.” You cut him off, leaving no room for argument. You always told him to feel at ease in your apartment, that he was welcome to any food in the fridge and free to use the guest room as he pleased but even after all this time there was still a slight air of awkwardness backed up by the fear of going a bit too far.

Max’s eyes settled on you, your own focused on your cat so you didn’t notice him looking. He watched the way you cooed at Nugget, asking if he was a good boy while you were away and petting him gently, and his lips stretched into a small, careful smile.

He spoke before thinking. The words left his mouth before he even finished the thought inside of his head. “I watched the race,” he said, and your eyes instantly snapped up to meet his. He swallowed, already too deep to back down. “It - “ he licked his lips, trying to decide his next words, feeling like his tongue had tied itself up in a knot. “You were spectacular. It was lovely … simply lovely.”

You let out a breath, the corners of your mouth twisting upwards and you gave him a thankful look. Max swore he could feel his heart beating in his throat, and felt his cheeks heat up. “Thank you,” you said, your voice gentle, holding a comforting tone. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. And it’s nice - knowing you watched.”

“It is?”

You bit your lip, teeth scraping against you bottom lip as you looked at him, your brain running faster than the Sauber (like it’s hard) as you tried to come up with a response. “It’s kind of comforting,” you finally said, after what felt like a small forever.

You hummed, looking down at your nails. “I was thinking about bringing Nugget with me to the next race. It’s been a while since he was in the paddock.”

“Oh,” Max said, an edge of confusion noticeable in the tone of his voice. “Does that mean that you don’t need me coming over next week?”

“Actually, I was hoping you would come with.” You say, before you can talk yourself out of making the proposition.

Max tilts his head to the side, kind of like a confused cat and you try your best not to giggle at the mental image. “I’m not sure I’m following.”

“If you wanted to attend the Grand Prix,” you tell him, running the edge of one of your nails along your skin. “Cuz’ I’m still gonna need someone to look after Nugget, and you do that in general so this would just be an added bonus of traveling.”

Max is silent for a few moments and you think he’ll decline. You wouldn't fully blame him if he did, you know what the pressure of the paddock can be like. You’re about to open your mouth, tell him that ‘never mind, it was a stupid idea anyway’ and put him out of the trouble of finding a polite way to decline when he finally speaks.

“I suppose, if you want me to then yeah, I’ll come along to watch Nugget.” He says, trying to ignore the nervous feeling building up in his chest when you smile at him, a wide happy smile that makes him instantly smile back.

“Great!” You said, the excitement evident in your voice. “Someone from the team will contact you in a while to arrange the tickets and leave the rest to me.” Max nods, he doesn’t trust himself to speak, not with the way his throat is closing up and it makes him feel like he can’t breathe.

“Look at you all giggly,” Charles teased, gently pushing your shoulder with his hand. He wiggled his eyebrows, a laugh slipping past his lips as you glared at him.

“Charles, why don’t you turn around and flash your pretty face to the crowd.” You said, rolling your eyes. You looked at the stadium full of people who were shouting out for their favorite drivers, waving banners and cheering happily. You smiled towards the stadium and lifted your hand up, waving your fingers to the public. “Give them a wave.”

“See, I always knew you thought I was pretty,” Charles replied, waving at the public. The two of you and the rest of the grid were in a wagon, going around the track for the drivers parade, so essentially you were stuck with him for at least five more minutes. “Now, do tell who’s got you smiling like that.”

“Is it Maxie?” Lando asked, the teasing tone evident in his voice. He pushed himself closer to you and Charles, inserting himself into the conversation.

“Didn’t your mom teach you not to eavesdrop?”

“No, no!” Charles said, shaking his head as he waved his hand dismissively as you, his full attention now focused on Lando. “Who’s Maxie?”

Lando smiled at him, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “The cat sitter,” he said in a sing-song kind of voice.

“The one you brought to your garage?” The Ferrari driver asked, his attention back on you. “The pretty one.”

“Hold up!” Lando almost shouted, raising his hands. “You brought him with you to the Grand Prix?!”

“I didn’t … well I did bring him.” You said with a sigh, there was no escaping this now. “But it’s not like that. He’s here to watch Nugget.”

“And for you to watch him - because boy that is one good arm candy.”

“Charles, your homosexual is showing,” you warned.

“But you’re not denying it,” Charles noted, giving you a smirk.

You rolled your eyes at him but finally gave in. “Yes, I’m not denying it.”

You stepped back into the motor home, your eyes immediately searching for Max and finally you found him talking to your lead engineer. As you approached the two you could start to hear their conversation and quickly realized they were talking about how the car worked and what went on behind the scenes at a Grand Prix. You found it cute that Max was interested in that.

His eyes met yours and his face lit up, the corners of his mouth twisting upwards into a smile. “You’re back!” He said, “After terrorizing everyone around and getting pets, Nugget decided to settle down for a nap. He’s in your driver's room.”

Max gave you a wink after saying that and you had to hold in a giggle. You excused yourself to go to your driver’s room, with Max following behind you. The first thing you noticed when you went inside was Nugget, curled up on the massage bed and sleeping without a care.

The next thing that grabbed your attention was a dozen pastries lined up on a small table next to the couch. They were all individually wrapped in tissues.

“Max,” you said, picking up one of the pastries and unwrapping it. “I really did mean only one pastry, you know?” You bit into the chocolate filled pastry, moaning at the taste of a treat you weren’t usually allowed to have when it was race week. “My trainer will strangle me if he sees.”

“I swear, no one saw anything.” Max said, shuffling over to the couch and sitting down. “I was sneakier than Nugget when he’s stealing my food.”

“Oh, now that’s a very serious claim.” You told him with a laugh, his own laugh echoing back. You picked up one of the wrapped pastries and offered it to him. “Take one, or five. There’s no way I’m eating it all.”

He takes the pastry you’re offering him, his fingers brushing against your own as he takes it from your hand, sending sparks of electricity down your spine. After a second of hesitation you sit down next to him, the two of you eating the treats in comfortable silence.

His thigh nudges against yours and you turn to face him, finding that he’s already looking at you. He smiles and you don’t hesitate to smile back.

The practices go great, P2 in FP1, P1 in FP2 and P1 in FP3.

The qualifying is where a slight setback shows up, with quali being ended early due to a crash and a red flag, putting you in P10 for the start of the race tomorrow.

Once the car had rolled back into the pits you wasted no time getting out, putting the steering wheel back into place before storming into your driver’s room.

You pulled your helmet off, fingers curling into the bottom of your balaclava as you pulled it off, throwing it next to your helmet before bringing your hands up to smooth down your hair.

“I’m not in the fucking mood, Pepe.” You said without turning around, assuming it was your race engineer coming to talk about the outcome of qualifying. “Fucking Lance and his fucking money made seat - if that little frog screws up another quali, I’ll be the one crashing him out.”

“I’m not Pepe,” the other person in the room says and you instantly turn around, your eyes wide as they meet Max’s blue ones. “And I’m certainly glad I’m not Lance.”

You looked him up and down, eyes trailing over his figure. You took notice of Nugged, cuddled up in his arms and looked at you curiously, and reached your hand out to pet the cat, a long breath slipping past your lips.

“Sorry,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “I didn’t really mean for you to hear that.”

Max barely heard what you were saying. Too distracted by the sight of you for his brain to properly register your words. Your skin was slightly glistening with sweat, an imprint from where your helmet and balaclava had dug into your skin still visible on your flushed cheeks. Your messy hair, and your chest raising and falling with each breath you took as you were still working on catching up your breath.

Max blinked, finally snapping out of his thoughts and focusing his attention back to what you were saying. “They should have let you finish the lap.”

“I agree but sadly that’s not how it works.”

Max nodded along, not really knowing what to say to that so he switched to the next topic. “I ran into your friend. He invited you, and me, out for drinks. I think it would be nice to go, you seem like you need a drink.”

“Yeah, I definitely do.” You replied, taking Nugget from his arms and into your own, stroking down the cat’s body. “Which friend?”

“Uh,” Max started, thinking of a way to describe the guy since he couldn’t remember his name. “Wears red, pretty, sounds French.”

You laughed, smiling at him. “That’s Charles. I hope you didn’t tell him he sounds French, he gets offended by that.”

“Then it’s great I kept it to myself.”

You laughed in reply, putting Nugget down to the floor, the cat immediately moving to a cozy corner and curling up into a ball on the floor, shutting his eyes. “The hotel is right next to the track, you can take Nugget back while I shower and then we can go - if you want to.”

“Sounds like a deal,” Max replied with a smile.

You showered and put on a clean set of clothes just in time to meet Max after he finished dropping Nugget back to the hotel, leaving him with toys, food and water. The two of you made your way to the bar to join the rest of the grid for a night out.

Some of the drivers were playing pool while their girlfriends were engrossed in a conversation so that left you and Max sitting together, sharing drinks and talking.

“I just …” you started, cracking your fingers. “I don’t know, this quali really messed up my mood and I was riding on such a high after the practices going well. It all feels shit now.”

“Maybe you just need more motivation for the race.” Max offered, drinking the rest of the liquor from his glass in one go.

“You have something in mind, Maxie?” You asked, the nickname slipping past your lips without a thought now that you’ve had a few drinks.

“How about a kiss if you get on the podium?” He said, his voice suggestive. Normally he never would have dared to say something like that but the alcohol courage really worked wonders.

Your eyes widened, clearly not expecting him to be so bold or to suggest that. He took your reaction as a bad sign, immediately straightening up as a wave of dread quickly sobered him up.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, the expression on his face shifting into a panicked one. “That was stupid. It was thoughtless. It was -”

“A great motivation,” you cut him off, putting a finger up against his lips to silence him. “It was a great motivation.”

His cheeks burned as his eyes met yours. He looked so vulnerable, his bright eyes impossibly wide. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“One more corner to go but you’re in the clear,” Pepe’s voice echoed over the radio. You blinked, your eyes focused on the track before you, the checkered flag already visible along with your team gathering in the front. “That’s P1, Y/n. Phenomenal drive today, you deserved it!”

“Thank you,” you said, your voice breathless as you moved your hands, going through the last corner and speeding towards the finish line. “Thank you, Pepe.” You repeated, swallowing your spit. “It was lovely, simply lovely.”

You put the car into P1, getting out and posing for a picture on top of your car. You could hear the shouts, the cheers, the celebration. You took off your helmet, ripping off your balaclava and putting them both into the car before turning around to face the team, eyes searching for a particular face.

Finally, you spotted Max. Standing besides your engineer, a proud expression on his face as he looked at you with a wide smile. You didn’t hesitate, feet moving before you could think and then you were in front of him, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down, smashing your lips into his.

The kiss was desperate, both of having waited long enough for it. He wrapped his arms around you, the best he could with the fence between you, kissing you back with need.

You finally pulled away when you felt your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, learning your forehead against his. Nothing else mattered, not the public, not the team, not the celebration. Only him, finally yours.

“Simply lovely, right?” You asked, your voice breathless.

“Simply lovely!” Max repeated back to you, before kissing you once again. And he really did mean it - everything was simply lovely.

tag list: @formula1-motogpfan @misty-inferno @thelemonque3n @marvel-hotchner @strangemaximoff @folkloresreputation @pippyth3hippy @adharacambridge @theseerbetweenus @sebastianstansblog @tellybearryyyy @six-call @grussellsprout @oikarma @justcharlotte @annimausi

i hope i tagged everyone who said they wanted to be on the tag list. hope you enjoyed this one and keep an eye out for the poll about the next part of the series <3

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vivwritesfics · 4 months ago

Text

Madly

Best friends to lovers. Angst

Thirteen year olds were dicks, and not very creative.

She stood there with her father, trying to listen to his words of encouragement. Second place is good! he tried to reassure her. First is worst.

It worked on her when she was a kid, worked when she was just a child getting into the world of karting. But she wasn't a kid now. She was a teenager, and she was angry for her loss.

Max smiled at her like he didn't just cost her the win. Asshole. She scowled at him and he frowned. But then it made sense in Max's mind. Her dad must have been berating her like his dad would have if he hadn't won.

He just wanted to be her friend, as simple as that. He sucked in a breath and approached. "Good drive today," he said and held his hand out towards her. But she was glaring down at his hand until he pulled it away.

She had nothing to say to him, the way she was looking at him with her arms folded over her chest made that clear.

"You guys know why she lost, right?" Came a new voice, a familiar voice that got on her every last nerve. She turned and glared at the boy who said it. "Because she's got no balls."

Her eyebrows went up. What the fuck, she mimed to Max.

The kid who had said it had finished fifth, not even standing on the little podium they had during karting. Two drivers finished between her and him, and the comment had her utterly thrown.

"She's got bigger balls than you," Max threw out.

The boys laughed as they walked away.

"Assface," she spat, hatred in her voice as she walked back over to her father.

***

The road to Formula One hadn't been easy. She wasn't there yet, side lined as a reserve driver for Red Bull. Still, she was in a better position than most.

She sat on Max's side of the garage, wearing her usual Red Bull shirt as he spoke to GP. There she waited for him, wearing her AlphaTauri hat (yes, the old AlphaTauri team hat).

Max glanced around, saw her sitting there, and strode over. "Hey, Big Balls," he said and she stuck her tongue out at him. He pulled her AlphaTauri hat from her head and replaced it with his own.

"Hey, Assface," she replied and stuck her tongue out at him. "You feel like letting me drive today?"

"Not a chance."

Her fist met his shoulder, but Max hardly felt it. His hand came to rest on her knee. "Your time will come, Balls," he said gently. A smile stretched across his freckled lip.

She'd been there by his side since he started in F1, driving in the Toro Rosso. It had been difficult to support him around her F3 schedule, but she made it work. His second year of racing in F1 she spent in F2. And his third.

In his fourth F1 season, he put her name forward to become the reserve driver. And now they spent every waking moment together, it seemed.

It came as no surprise when she let herself into Max's apartment in the middle of his stream. "Balls!" He shouted as he turned around, pulling the headset off of his head. "You're here!"

"I brought gin!" She shouted and took a seat behind him.

There was a good couple of minutes where Max forgot that he was on stream, too absorbed in her. Nobody could quite follow their conversation, almost like they were speaking their own little language.

When she disappeared into the kitchen to pour the both of them drinks, Max returned to his stream. He spoke into mic, answering the joking questions that were thrown his way. That was exactly how it went whenever she was on stream with him.

Leaning against him, she placed his drink down. "Where're we driving?" She asked as she sipped her drink and observed the screen.

And, suddenly, Max was climbing out of his seat. He placed his headset over her ears and took her drink from her hand. "Go on," he said and gestured for her to sit down.

That was how the night went. She and Max drank together, taking it slow until he logged off. But then they were falling onto the couch, giggling as they tried to find something to watch. It wasn't easy, the buttons on the remote getting confused.

***

Her head pounded.

She looked around, holding the blanket against her naked, cold body. The apartment she recognised, but it wasn't hers.

Fuck, she was in Max's apartment. Fuck, she was naked in his bed. Fuck, he was naked in his bed beside her.

She quickly climbed out of the bed, scrambling to pick her clothes up from the floor. What had happened after they fell onto the couch?

Max rolled over as she grabbed her top from the floor. She froze, waiting for him to stay asleep. But that was too good to be true. He just had to wake up.

His blue eyes opened, eyelashes fluttering. He groaned as he looked at her. "Balls?" He grumbled as he sat up. It took him a good minute to work out that, he too, was naked. He held the blanket tight around him as he looked at her. "Did we..."

She quickly pulled her shirt over her head. "I'll see you at the track," she mumbled and grabbed a hold of her bag.

"The race isn't until next weekend."

"I'll see you then, Max." With that, she disappeared out of the apartment.

Here's the thing, Max loved this girl. He knew it, knew just how madly he loved her. She made him laugh, made the freckle on his lip hurt as he laughed. But he loved every second of it.

He didn't remember the night before. But he woke up in the middle of the night, holding her naked body tight against him. He didn't notice then, was too tired to think it was anything weird, and quickly fell back asleep.

When she walked out of his Monaco apartment, he realised. He loved her madly, and he'd blown it. One night of too much gin and he'd blown it. He loved her madly, but there was no way she was going to love him back.

Here they were. Stuck. Spinning like a roll of tape.

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