#max is the only happiness I get out of watching the stupid races

[ildiavoloro55o]

You see this man?

Yeah. Him.

He is the only one that keeps me happy and sane during race weekends. Everyone else either gives me heart attack or makes me stressed out or makes me want to commit arson.

[bunnys-kisses]

viva las vegas

max verstappen - team principal au

tags: smut/pwp, team principal au, tp!max, driver!reader, age gap (20s/40s), massages, vaginal fingering, intimacy & affection, doggy style

a/n: happy las vegas gp weekend!

max remembered vegas not-so kindly. or rather he remembered the hangovers of las vegas not-so kindly. it was where things heated up depending on a driver's standing. for many years max simply smiled and waved through another race, he always kept a heavy margin between him and other drivers in the points department.

plus he had to give it to the americans, they really knew how to make their races quite the spectacle. and las vegas was no different than miami at the start of the season and austin only a little while earlier. even now as a team principal, he enjoyed the occasional cigarette on a balcony of a hotel room. except this year his head was flooded with less technical information and more the sight of his beloved star driver.

you.

you huffed with your arms crossed after media day. you wore a pout so prettily, it was real princess behavior. and where you were standing right now, you were on your rightful throne at the top of the leader board.

"i don't get why we have to do these last three races. i have this in the bag, i am over a hundred points ahead of the next driver." you pointed in a general direction as you complained to your boss, "this is stupid, give me the wdc and we can all go home."

you were tired. of course you were, he was tired too. the entire team was tired. hell, everyone from top to bottom was tired.

max put his hands on his hips. he tilted his head to the side and exhaled, "treasure." he was a little sympathetic. he remembered being ragged by mid-october, the fact you were only falling apart at the last few races was impressive, "i know, it feels like the victory is being dragged on. that we are just wasting time." he reached out for you and cupped your face with such affection, "but, think about how much you could make that margin grow.' he had both hands on your face. you were in private so he could be a little closer.

you looked up at him with such sad eyes, "it feels anti-climatic."

max smiled, "that's the price you pay you when you're just leagues ahead of them. if you don't race for the points this weekend. then race for home, race for your family... and race for me." his smile grew, "i want to watch the shock on mclaren's face when they see what they missed out on." he chuckled lightly, "the offers you would get from everyone."

you said, "don't think i'm trying to leave verstappen racing." you pouted a little more.

max felt something tug in his chest but he kept his smile, it was endearing to hear those words. that you weren't going to up and leave him. even if your contract was three years, teams had lawyers to the teeth that could easily wrangle you into their grasp. but you had no interest in that. he kissed your forehead, "how about you come to my hotel room tonight, i'll help you relax. make the weekend a little more fun."

it wasn't burdensome to go to max's room. it was often right beside yours. even if the rest of the team were on the other side of the floor. you nodded and let max kiss you in the privacy of the little corner you found yourself in.

max watched you walk through his hotel room, in nothing but an over-sized garishly pink dolly parton shirt. you were bent over at the bar fridge to take a healthy shot of gin and let the shiver run through you. he chuckled into his drink and said, "let's get you a glass for that, treasure." before he got up from the couch, "oh better yet, let's take it easy on the alcohol. you're driving tomorrow." then crossed the room to take the bottle from your hand. he dipped his nose into the back of your neck and said, "how about we find other ways to relax tonight. something that won't kill you come morning"

you looked over at him and frowned, "i could not race tomorrow and i'd still win it all" and leaned into max's touch as he took you by the chin. you turned to look at him fully and crossed your arms.

"i know, being on top does get boring. but why don't i help. after all, that is my job." he held you in his arms and admired you the way someone would admire a beautiful piece of art. you were inclined to melt into his touch. uncrossed your arms and hugged him when your head against his chest.

"i wish there was more a chase for this victory." you huffed. the perfect driver, the perfect car, the perfect team and the perfect boss. it was all to easy.

he chuckled and kissed you, "please, don't get hung up on that. think about what it would mean to have a woman have such a clear victory." he held you, "no splitting hairs with your victory. think about what you could do." he smiled at you.

you held onto the front of his t-shirt and sighed, "i know, i know. first woman and all, but... i wish there was more of a fight."

max smiled, he knew the feeling well as he tenderly held you. he kissed your forehead lovingly before he said, "why don't we forget about that. and no more alcohol." then led you to the grand bedroom of the room. he sat on the bed and admired you.

in the over sized shirt and cotton panties. nothing special, but max ate up every last bit of it. the idea that he got the see you like this. he knew that men thirsted over you. fans that couldn't get it through their head that you'd never be with them.

you were just voted the more eligible bachelor(ette) of formula one. max got a kick out of seeing that when he read in on the way to the track. single, huh? that was news to him. not while you were tangled up in max's love like a spiderweb.

"do you want it off, sir?" you asked as you played with the hem. he had to admit, but up close, he sort of liked the t-shirt. the pink looked good on you. but he liked what was under it even more. men could thirst all they want, but none of them could have you.

not while max was still breathing. he pressed his face up against your middle, he sighed, "yeah, take it off. i want to see everything." everything that belongs to me. the unspoken words. he helped you get the shirt off.

he admired your body, dressed in cotton panties and a sports bra with thick straps. he licked his lips as he went back to kissing your stomach before you ended up on the bed next to him. you helped him out of his clothes just as he did for you. his lips found your heated skin and you arched your back a little at the feeling. it excited you.

"please, sir." you said as his large hands roamed your body, it left you feeling excited all over and touched you. you felt like heaven under his palms you moaned into another heated kiss and let him touch you as he so desired.

"you're perfect for me." he said as he kissed your neck, "perfect in ways i can't even put words to. you remind me of such beauty that it would be a crime for me to deny myself your warmth." he looked at you with those blue eyes, they read so much as he held you tightly, "that's why i want you to win, win, win. when they doubted you, i never did. and i'll continue to never doubt you. i want them to wipe those grins off their faces and see what you are a threat on the track."

you felt your heart flutter as you said, "oh max." before you pulled him into another hot kiss. when he pulled away, he got you onto your back and admired the strength in your back. he licked his lips and you could feel his hot gaze.

"quite the beauty." he said softly before he started to put those strong hands to work. you moaned into the covers and arched your back when he rubbed the skin. he groaned a little bit, his cock twitched at full attention as he massaged your body, "but you need to relax. i know, i want you at your best. but you can't be so wound up. it'll only make you a worse driver." he leaned into your and whispered in your ears, "i know you want to defeat them, make them whimper." his voice hot against your ear.

you whined, "please, max. sir!" you arched your back a little bit, or at least tried to. but he kept you pinned to the bed and continued to rub at your skin.

"i'd do anything to make you win." he said quietly, "i know you're my champion." he moved down your back and you whimpered when he hit spots that made your eyes roll back a little. you looked cute squirming like that. under him beautifully.'

you gasped when he eventually slipped two fingers inside of your soaked pussy and thrusted them slowly as he held you by the small of your back onto the bed. you gasped and arched your back with sexual want as he fingered you. you buried your face into the covers and whined, "max!"

it was music to his ears, he loved it. he loved you. you didn't know how many rules max had to bend for you. he was painfully committed to you, he adored you in ways that he could never say with words. you whined a little bit as he fingered you and he felt the heat in his belly as he played with your pussy.

"there we go. nice and relaxed, perfect for the upcoming race. i know you'll be a good girl for me. right? you'll race perfectly and then we'll come back to this hotel room with more points under your belt and i'll fuck you right up against the window. let all of las vegas see their weekend's star." his voice was filthy, tinged with a heated want. his cock was painfully hard.

he fingered you for a little while long before he pulled out the digits and licked the wetness off of them. but you weren't going to go without for long, not on max's watch. soon he was behind you, with your hips raised as he sank his cock into you.

the future champion felt good around his cock, beautiful in a way that he could taste it on the tip of his tongue. you felt like heaven as he started to rock his hips against you.

he knew you were the best, you were always the best. almost a perfect season, except for a few hiccups here and there. but, those were all ironed out. now he had big hopes for your future racing. racing with his team. he wanted to see you in the lion logo for years to come. and when your eventual retirement came, you'd be working alongside him as his wife. even carrying his last name couldn't keep you away from the track and max would be a fool to force you away from it (except for maybe nine months). he continued to move against you, he watched your ass bounce from his movements as he fucked you.

"shit, max." you whined. you wanted to win so badly, you wanted to be the world champion. you wanted to stick it in the faces of those who doubted you. other drivers, other teams, even your own father. who would have preferred you married a driver rather than be on. but max saw the future in your eyes, you'd be the world champion. and you believed in max. even when he was fucking you with a feverish pace that left you seeing stars and panting into the covers.

max kissed your back as he moved against you. he felt the heat through his body as he worked his cock inside of you. he felt the swell of affection towards you, he felt the heat course through his body. he needed you deeply, he needed you in ways that he never needed another.

"you're insatiable." you sighed as you felt yourself get fucked further into the bed. you gasped a little deeper into the covers as the two of you moved together. you felt the hammering in your chest.

"you feel amazing. i can't help myself." max groaned as he battered your sweet pussy with an insatiable want. he couldn't help himself, that was the god's honest truth. he yearned for you in deeper ways, he wanted to be connected to you in every way he could.

"please, max. i can't get enough of this. you feel so good, you know how to make me good." you groaned through the heat through your body. you pleasure coursed through your body, this was amazing. it was always amazing to be with him. especially when max combed his fingers through your hair and he continued to move against you with a heated want.

"you feel amazing in return, beautiful. my treasure. something i got out of the rough, shined you to your full potential." he hissed through a tense jaw as he continued to fuck you. you moved against him quickly and it made him gasp for more.

max licked his dry lips. the pleasure coursed through his body, it was a throb in his head as he thrusted up against you. he tensed up for a moment when he felt the heat only grow in his core. he really couldn't help himself. he knew that this wasn't exactly the sanest thing to do, fuck a his driver. but when a figure like yours and a winning streak that left him hot and bothered. it would a crime not to claim you as his. you wore his hickies under your collar and his logo over your heart. you were undeniable. you made racing fun for him.

he kissed you back once more, his pace started to stagger. the heat continued to fuel his body. he could hear your heated pants as you felt close to your orgasm. he held onto you tightly and fucked you through a powerful climax.

"i don't want anyone else." you panted in the heat of pleasure. you tensed up for a moment before you relaxed, your hands curled in the sheets as you muttered curses under your breath in your mother tongue.

max continued his heavy thrusts and came inside of you. he slowed his pace to a stop and kissed your back. he whispered sweet nothings against you before he pulled out slowly. you both laid out beside one another and he pulled you into his grasp.

he kissed your heated cheeks and sighed contently against your skin, "there, ready for the weekend?" he asked.

you pulled away to look at his flushed expression. blissed out from sexual heat, you gave him a small smile as you said, "well, if you keep the orgasms coming. i'll be more than happy to widen the points gap." then yelped when he got you onto your back. his heavy kisses soon trailed down heated skin.

you decided right then and there that you got very lucky in vegas.

-

a few weeks later in abu dhabi, you hoisted your final trophy of the season over your head. you were damn near tears as you claimed another victory. like you did in las vegas, then qatar and finally abu dhabi. max felt tears in his eyes as if he was winning the victory too.

you became the best, just like max promised. his driver, his star, his champion.... his future wife. <3

[fangirl-dot-com]

🧡❤️Dating Your Enemy's Sibling

*part of the reverse trope series*

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!Reader Genre: Fluff/Humor/SMAU Summary: How to get under your enemy/rival's skin? Charles answer was to start dating his younger sister. But now, he's glad he found love along the way. He only had to tell Max about the relationship when you won a race. That's won't be any time soon though . . . right?

*in honor of Lando's first win - here's this next installment of Reverse Tropes! I know that Max and Charles really aren't enemies. Maybe I should have done like a Pierre and Esteban thing, but I don't write for them. So here we go and please enjoy!*

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen. 

Predestined rivals, written in the stars, invisible string, yada-yada-yada. 

Putting it simply, Charles had an apt for pissing Max off and vice-versa. The world thought they would kill each other in karting, especially after the 2012 incident. The population sighed in relief when Max was taken from F3 and put in a Formula 1 car, while Charles took a bit longer. 

And then Charles made it to Formula 1 in 2018. However, he was put in a HAAS, a car that was not really made to play with the other cars in the front of the pack. The earth was saved yet another year. 

Well, until 2019 when Charles suddenly became the “It Boy” for the Prancing Horse. Meaning, that he could finally go back to terrorizing the grid and Max. But with terrorizing the grid came loads of trouble and hatred. 

And more pissing off your rival. 

Charles seethed on the podium as he listened to the Dutch national anthem and watched Max point to the stupid “H” on his race suit. He held in a scoff. At least the Ferrari logo was much better looking than that. 

It wasn’t fair. He had the racing line and Max pushed him off. If his mind wandered, it would go back to a certain kart race back in 2012 where he pulled the same move. But that didn’t count because the race has already finished. Charles would have rather been disqualified instead of having to go through the torture of being up on the podium in second. 

First loser as they call it. 

The Monegasque driver held no happiness in his body as Max started spraying his winner’s champagne. Charles just picked up his bottle and drank it. 

Still wasn’t as sweet as victory champagne would be. 

He deliberately separated himself from Max as they stood for a picture. The visible gap made it much more hilarious for everyone around them. 

When the festivities finished, he hightailed it out of there, just wanting to avoid the Dutchman presence. Charles sighed loudly as he walked back to the garage, definitely not in the mood to talk to anyone. 

“Charlie!

The Monegasque stopped in his tracks, annoyance almost wracking his entire being. Can people just let him wallow in defeat? He straightened his shoulders and turned around, PR smile plastered on his face. However, the very fake smile turned into a real one when he noticed that you were almost jogging to catch up with him. 

Y/n Verstappen. 

You had always been a part of his childhood. Where Max was, you were one step behind him, following him in your small racing overalls. He remembered how little you always seemed compared to your brother. But size didn’t matter on the karting course. 

Most of the time, the two boys found themselves trying to shake you off and others were behind your kart, picking up the dirt that you sent their way. And that’s why Charles put your name down as recommendations for his Prema seat after he won the championship in 2017. Because of him, you were able to graduate to Formula 2 and were on the track to make a debut in Formula 1 in the coming years. 

“Hey Y/n,” Charles said softly, still not in the mood to really talk to anyone. But for you, he’d always make an exception. And he was supposed to fly back with you and Max, something he was still dreading. 

You look at the Monegasque with sympathy. Charles wasn’t able to find any type of pity in your blue eyes (that matched Max’s). 

Your brows furrowed as to talked to him. “What Max did wasn’t the right way to race. But Formula 1 is getting more and more competitive.” 

The man, er boy, wanted to huff. He did not need this conversation from you. He almost turned around, but the next few sentences stopped him from making any motions. 

“Charlie, you’ve always found ways to beat him. If he wants to play like this, then you just have to give him a taste of his medicine, get under his skin. Do what you always do and somehow get around him.” 

He cocked his head, before his eyes lit up. 

Get under his skin.

You watched as Charles’s eyes filled up with some light, making the green in them really shine. You could almost see ideas concocting in his head.

Charles went to say something, but was interrupted by his team principle. He swerved to respond before he turned back to you. There was a glint in his eyes that you really couldn’t put a finger on. 

His took a deep breath before asking, “Do you want to maybe get dinner with me?” 

Your eyes widened. Sure, the Monegasque was very attractive, but those were not the words that you were expecting to come out of his mouth. 

Oh. 

Now you got it. 

Your facial expressions melted a bit, eyes pointed toward the ground as you kicked at it. Your arms crossed as you huffed. 

“Using me for gain over my brother wasn’t what I was meaning Charles. I was thinking more like unfollow him on social media while we’re on the plane or something.” 

The harsh “Ch” that began his name had him wincing. Like your brother, you had a small lisp which normally softened the two consonants to the point where his name sounded like it was supposed to be. And what was “Charles?” You rarely ever called him that, choosing to pick the more boyish nickname. 

Although, your idea about Instagram wasn’t a bad one. 

Charles looked a bit guilty as he scratched the back of his head. He honestly was endeared by you and your determination to never give up. He found you, well, cute. You were still 19, younger than him by a bit more than three years. 

But if you were cute back in 2012 hanging on to Max’s wet overalls after the puddle, and you were cute now trying to console him instead of celebrating your brother’s victory, you would still be cute in the following years. 

He sighed, knowing that he had to leave soon or he was going to get an earful from Sebastian for being late to yet another meeting. The Ferrari driver stepped forward a bit, getting closer to you. He looked down at his helmet before looking back to your eyes. 

“When I win and when I beat your brother, then can I take you out to dinner?” 

You mulled over the question in your head. 

If he beat Max before you went out with him, then that meant that he was actually genuine and wasn’t using it to his gain. You also smirked, knowing that indeed it would piss Max off whenever he found out. Your position as an annoying younger sister would still be intact and possibly stronger. 

You held out your hand, which Charles took in an instant. 

“Deal Leclerc.” 

“Deal Verstappen.” 

When Charles took the top step in Spa, pride filled his chest when he noticed Max’s glare at him. He had beaten the Dutchman at his home race. Albeit, it was a DNF for Max, but a win either way.  He swayed back and forth as his national anthem played and then sang quietly along with the Italian anthem. Deep in his heart, he knew the true weight of the win. 

For Anthoine. 

He knew somewhere he made his French friend proud. Just like Jules. And Just like Papa.

Charles watched down below as you looked like you could hardly keep a smirk off your face. And it was bad too as you stood next to Max, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there below Charles. 

The Monegasque raised his eyebrows when you locked eyes. You just hoped that Max wouldn’t catch on that he was staring right at you. Thankfully, you were right next to a Ferrari manager, so Max could guess that Charles was looking at him. 

When the winner finally got ready, you were waiting outside his garage. 

“Hi,” you whispered, putting your phone away. Charles didn’t verbally respond, but he wrapped his arms around you. You melted in his arms, still smelling a bit of the champagne in his hair. 

He looked down at you. 

“Are you ready for dinner?” 

Your eyes held a playful glint. “I hope you chose a good restaurant Leclerc.” 

He scoffed, keeping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you turned to leave. “Only the best Verstappen.” 

The dinner went really well, but you weren’t expecting it to be a continual thing. 

And then Charles won in Monza the next week, and he once again asked you to dinner. And once again, the Monegasque set expectations higher than you every imagined. You were saddened when Charles wasn’t able to win any more races while your brother seemed to get better and better each race. 

You could only giggle while you watched them still avoid each other in Singapore. 

But, the dinners turned into texting, and texting turned to other dates, and dates turned into dating, and dating turned into a relationship, and the relationship turned into an almost five year commitment that you or Charles weren’t planning to end soon. 

The relationship saw your brother become a world champion in 2021, Charles becoming a world champion in 2022, and you joining the grid as a rookie for McLaren after a disastrous attempt for an Alpine seat.

Charles had been furious and Max had almost found out about the relationship. The two of you were still scared that Max might hold some coldness for the past. But when he called Charles “Charlie,” the special nickname that you had for him, you thought that it might be a good idea to tell him. 

“But mon ange, he will run me off the track if he finds out,” Charles whined into your stomach as you played with his hair before the Miami Grand Prix. 

You rolled your eyes and tugged at the strands. “No he won’t. You have to worry about your teammate doing that to you instead.” 

Another whine left Charles making you giggle. 

“At least you’re starting on the front row. I have to start P5! Oscar has been making fun of me all weekend.” 

The Aussie had been such a God send for you during your rookie season. The elder by a few months had taken you under his wing. The two of you had been so close to a win last year, and with the upgrades this weekend, you were sure that you or him would start on the front row. 

And then you had to be hit during the sprint, which didn’t help the mechanics in the hours before the race quali. That in turn made your car feel weird and P5 was the best you could do. Maybe Charles was secretly transferring his unluckiness into you. 

The Monegasque turned his head to look you in the eyes. You smiled as you leaned down to kiss the top of his head. 

“We’ll tell him when I win a race. How about that?” 

Charles knew that you were just unlucky as he was when it came to winning a race. Last year,  you had been close in Spa, but a rouge rainstorm saw you spinning out on the second to last lap. Austin you had pole, but Max fought you on into turn one, making you go wide. You never saw your brother after the first lap as you fell down the grid. Charles held you each night as you cried. 

The red-clad-driver sat up and held your head in his hands. “You’ll win soon enough. Maybe not this weekend because I don’t have any time to prepare.” 

You laughed and just brought him in to a kiss. There was literally no way you could win this weekend. Beating Max Verstappen with pole from P5 on a track that he had a 100% win rate at? 

Impossible.

Charles thought he was going to cry as he crossed the line in P3. From you winning or having to tell your bother that he defiled his baby sister, he didn’t know. 

What he did know was that he was going to get out of his car and congratulate you immediately. What were the odds that you won on the anniversary of the stupid inchident, the first time that Charles had ever seen you with Max. 

(And yes, he did remember the anniversary but didn’t want to bring it up.) 

You, however, were frozen in your car. You took some deep breaths as you took the steering wheel off, stood up a bit, bent to put it back on, and straightened, holding your pointer finger up. Your fists clenched as you raised them, automatically hearing the crowds roar when you waved. 

A tug on your sleeve brought you down into Max’s arms. You were a bit disappointed that it wasn’t Charles, but that would be too obvious. 

“YOU DID IT!” Max yelled in your ear, well, your helmet as you hadn’t taken the neon thing off yet. 

You really didn’t want people to see the tear stains on your face. But right now, you’d just stay in the protection of your brother’s arms. When he let go of you, he lifted your visor, twin eyes meeting yours. 

“You did such an amaz-”

“I’m dating Charles.” 

Blink. 

Blink. 

Blink. 

You took the moment of a frozen Max to turn to your team. You looked over your shoulder to see that the Dutchman was still stuck in his place as you got farther and farther away. You grimaced, knowing what was to come if Max and Charles met at any time when you weren’t there. 

An arm around your shoulders brought you out of your head. The light blue caught your eyes, signaling that it was Charles. He patted your shoulders, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible. You did feel a bit of pressure move your helmet, so he must have quickly smushed his face into the black swirls. A helmet kiss if you would guess. 

You wanted to turn around to warn him of the imminent danger that was waiting for him in the form of Max Verstappen, but you were led away before you could. 

Your fears immediately went away though when your eyes finally landed on your team. Helmet thrown to the ground, you made the decision to throw yourself at them as well. Your laughs could be heard as your mechanics lifted you higher as everyone seemed to want to congratulate you for their first win since Monza 2021, which you weren’t even on the team then. 

When Charles stepped into the cooldown room, he could feel the awkwardness. It also didn’t help that Max was glaring at him from the corner. Charles was a bit worried. He thought that Max was fine with him now after they had both sort of mended their weird friendship during 2023. 

He turned to you as you walked in, all sweaty. 

Charles still thought you looked very pretty. 

“Eyes off Leclerc.” 

Charles froze in his place and looked between the siblings. He looked at you, then Max, then you, and then Max again. You winced, not looking him in the eyes. Realization flooded his body and he thought for a moment he was going to pass out.  

“Mon Dieu.” 

“We will be talking after this,” Max pointed, drinking from his water bottle, not taking his eyes off Charles. 

When you were called to the little Jeeps, you quickly got into the bright pink Barbie-esque looking one, still buzzing from your win. Even if the two men behind you had put a damper on it. 

Charles’s eyes only fixed on one of the cars, not even seeing the third one behind the second. He climbed right in, eyes closed as he sat down. However, his eyes shot open when the car tilted and a thigh was touching his. He gulped rather loudly, refusing to look to his right. 

This was Vegas all over again. 

Max kept his voice low. “When did it start?” 

“2019. After Austria.” 

“Why?” 

“I wanted to get to know her more.” 

“What was the reason Charles?” 

The Monegasque sighed as he ran his hand over his face. “I was angry at you and wanted to get back at you somehow.” 

He knew he was about to be punched on live television, but he continued hoping for redemption. 

“But, I knew that was wrong. We didn’t even go out until Spa. And then again in Monza. And then it just happened.” 

He turned to look directly at Max, knowing that he only had a few more moments before they had to go out onto the podium. 

“Max I love your sister. I have the ring and everything. We’ve been happy for 5 years and have made it work. Please, she’s really all the good I have left. I would throw everything away for her. And-”

Max’s laughs stopped him from continuing. The Dutchman slapped a hand on Charles’s thigh, making him wince a bit. 

The Red Bull driver’s eyes were crinkled with a smile as they pulled up to the parking spot. 

“Just keep her happy, or I will run you off the track.” 

“Y/n! I told you he’d threaten me!” 

“Max!” 

“Oh come on I did not!” 

y/nverstappen4 has posted

y/nverstappen4 WE DID IT! P1 BABAYYYYYYY 🏆

nothing beats a podium with me on the top step surrounded by my boys 💙🧡❤️

liked by mclaren, team_quadrant, charles_leclerc, and 2,903,940 others

queeny/n LETS ACTUALLY GOOOOOOOOO

mclaren that's our girl 🧡 well deserved

lecstappenshipper this is basically a hard launch

y/nhaswins such a beautiful race y/n!!!!

charles_leclerc so so proud of you mon ange 🧡❤️ *liked by y/nverstappen4*

charles_leclerc celebrations tonight? 😈

y/nverstappen4 but of course

maxverstappen1 I know where you sleep leclerc 🙂

y/nverstappen4 DRINKS ON MAX TONIGHT

oscarpiastri YEAAHHHHHHH 🍾

maxverstappen1 what?

charles_leclerc thank you max ☺️

maxverstappen1 I NEVER AGREED TO THIS

oscarpiastri mega job mate 👊

y/nverstappen4 ossieeeeeee 👊 don't worry, you'll be up there soon! just gotta wrap your car in bubble wrap to protect it from evil ferrari 😠😤

charles_leclerc ☹️

y/nverstappen4 NOT YOU CHARLIE - THE OTHER ONE (LEWIS HURRY UP)

lewishamilton you don't think I'm trying 🤨

mcy/n she's so funny what the heck?? 😂

chefy/n we said - LET HER COOK

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[imaginaryf1shots]

His Sister | Lewis Hamilton

WC: 4.6K

Lewis Hamilton X Verstappen!Reader

Max Verstappen X reader!Sister

Summery: You have always been there for your brother, giving up everything for him, so when you decide to date his rival, what will he do.

Warnings: age gap(age not specified) mention of abuse, Jos Verstappen is an a-hole, Max is also an ass, bad childhood, bad father, cursing, alusion to smut but no actual smut

AN: this had me in tears at some parts, I was going, why did he do this 😭 as if I didn't write it, lol

Hope you all enjoy

Masterlist

Lewis Masterlist

Part 2

Growing up, Verstappen wasn’t easy. Growing up with Jos Verstappen as your guardian and the one that has custody is hard. Being the oldest, Verstappen is damn near impossible. Could you have chosen to live with your mother? Yes, but that would’ve left Max alone with Jos, something you weren’t about to do. Admittedly you were young yourself, but even at a young age you knew that if Max was left with Jos alone it wouldn’t turn out good for your brother, you’ve always been motherly and have so much love in you that you just shared it with those around you and your siblings got the most of it. It made perfect sense to you as a young girl to leave your life with your mother and sister and go with your brother and father.

At one point you were the one Karting, you loved cars and karting since you were young, with both parents into motorsport it was hard not to, and even Jos couldn’t deny how good you were, but alas you’re a female and there’s no way you’d make it all the way to F1, something that Jos loves to remind you of. That’s the reason he stopped you from going once Max started winning in karting, and he wanted to focus on his child, who would achieve all his personal dreams and make it into F1. Maybe it’s your love for the sport that made it easier but you enjoyed every time you went to a track and watched the karts race, you dreaded after the races though, to Jos anything but first is a failure. On days like that, you’d follow your father and stand in his way, he’d shout at you and push you around, and you’d take it all in all in the hope that by the time he reached Max he wouldn’t be angry, or at least you’d take the blunt end of his anger. That didn’t always happen and on those days you’d just stay with your brother holding his hand, walking with him home in the cold, in the rain and in the heat of the sun, never letting him go through a punishment alone and never letting him go through your punishments.

It was all in the hope that Max would reach F1 one day, and he did, he’s in Formula 1 now, he’s been there since he was 17, he skipped so many steps and jumped into Formula 1, he went from Toro Rosso to RedBull in a record time and he was racing with legends and world champions before you had time to comprehend it. All whilst you watched him from the garage, as a family member and a part of his team, never missing a race. Driving him around when he didn’t have his driver’s licence, hugging him after each win and DNF, picking up the pieces after a scolding from Jos and tearing up when he got his first win. Always smiling and happy for him no matter what.

You’d think now that you’re all older, the talk from your father wouldn’t affect you, that you’d get used to his words, and they won’t affect you. But he’s your dad. It never gets easy.

So here you are standing at the back of the garage you’re both watching the screen, when the camera cuts to you, you smile a bit before it cuts off back to the race, with one pull you’re away from prying eyes of people in the garage. Only the few people at the back could see you.

“What?” You ask your dad with a frown. His grip on your bicep is like iron. You hold in a wince and look him in the eye.

”What was that?” He whisper shouted, you looked at him confused. “Don’t give me that stupid look. How many times have I told you, I don’t like that look.”

”I’m just confused, I don’t know what you mean.” You explain yourself and try to act normal, all while knowing it’s about to get worse, he’s in a mood, Max’s race hasn’t been going like he’d like, he’s currently in second with Checo in first, something bad in your dad’s books.

”Don’t play stupid, I know what you’re playing at.” Jos squeezes more, and you’re bound to have a bruise by tomorrow morning.

“I’m literally doing nothing.” You move trying to pull your arm out of his grip, and he lets go of you but leans down in your face.

”I saw that look you gave the camera, don’t ruin your brother’s image.” You close your eyes and bite your lip, and it takes you a few seconds before you neutralise your expression into blankness. “Don’t look like a slut, it could affect the sponsors.”

”But I wasn’t.” You mutter, but he just scoffs.

”Don’t. Play. Games. With. Me.” With each word through his fretted teeth, he poked/pushed you with his finger at your shoulder, having you move back every time.

”I’m not.” You insist. Thankfully, before he can reply, someone clears their throat, making you both look to the side to see Hemlut standing there. He doesn’t look amused.

”Keep your family affairs out of the garage, please.” Was all he said before he turned to look at the screen. It takes everything in you not to roll your eyes, giving your dad one last look you turn and go watch the race from a different spot in the garage as far away from him as you could get.

Max ended up winning the race, with Lewis second and Charles third. So all was good in the end, your brother won the race, your dad was back in his happy mode, and your day was ruined. You rushed with the crowd to congratulate Max on his win. Your brother comes to you for a hug. You kiss his cheek as you always do and pat his back.

”Congratulations Maxie.”

”Thanks.” He gives you a big smile before he’s rushed to get weighed, you look at Ferrari as they congratulate Charles, the sea of red eye catching, looking around you don’t see any Mercedes dressed personal in the vicinity. Your eyes then fell to the 7 times world champion, he’s sitting on the floor looking tired, his eyes swept over the teams looking for his own. You feel bad for him. His family must not be here today, and his team didn’t bother to show up for him.

Later that day, you found yourself pulled to a club to celebrate another Max win, you’re usually up for the celebration, but after what happened at the garage, you weren’t feeling up to it. However, you can never say no to Max when he asks you to do something all nice and loving, so that’s how you ended up here. In a random club, with a lot of Formula 1 workers from all teams and FIA, they’re all having the times of their lives as if they’re not rivals and hate each other, every other day of the week. You’ve sat down the moment you walked in and haven’t moved, drinks coming to you, but you’ve only been sipping light ones, not wanting to get drunk and deal with a headache in the morning.

An hour in, you head to the bar to order water or a soda, not in the mood to drink more. With a sigh, you lean on the bar and wait for the bartender to make his way to you, looking bored out of your life.

”You don’t look like you’re having fun.” Someone says, coming up to stand beside you, the accent familiar, but you couldn't pinpoint why before you turn and your eyes fall on a pair of brown eyes.

”Not really.” You say and shrug, turning so you’re both facing each other. “I mean you’re the first person to come up to talk to me in the last hour or something.”

”I don’t believe that, a beautiful woman like you.” Lewis gives you a small smile, and you chuckle, playfully rolling your eyes.

“I know, right, and here I dressed up, only for it not to work.” You say a tone of amusement lanced into your words, liking this banter going back and forth.

”I wouldn’t say it’s not working.” Lewis says and looks you up and down, you blush under his gaze but the smile doesn’t drop from your lips, the bartender comes up to you right then and asks you for your order, you ask for a glass of water and a soda, before he turns to Lewis who doesn’t ask for a drink. “You’re not drinking?”

”I had a couple of drinks, but I don’t feel like getting drunk.” You tell him, and he hums, you lean closer as if you’re going to say a secret. “Between you and me, I didn’t want to be here anyways.”

”Me neither, why are you here?” Lewis asks, you look around the club, and your eyes fall onto your brother having the time of his life with his friends.

”Because my brother wanted me to come.” You say not looking away from Max, who was smiling and enjoying himself, it brings a smile to your face seeing him carefree. Your favourite type of Max.

”You’re Max’s sister.” At Lewis’ words, you realise he didn’t know who you were, your head snaps to look at him and give him the smallest of smiles, a defeated look hiding behind your eyes. As if you’re expecting the worst.

”Yeah, is that a problem?” You ask him already knowing what he’ll say. Your brother is his biggest rival. There’s history between them, and it’s not all rainbows and sunshine. Just because they have respect for each other doesn’t mean they love the other.

”No, you’re not Max.” This did surprise you, and it showed on your face, Lewis winked, and you shook your head. “Do you want to head out of here?”

”Sure.” With that, you and Lewis turn and head out. Everyone’s too drunk or too occupied to see your retreating figures.

Let’s just say that you enjoyed your night, Lewis isn’t just good at racing. He did convince you to stay the night after everything was said and done, with his eyes half lidded and you both breathing hard it was the easiest yes you’ve ever said.

You woke up alone with the shower going in the background, feeling lazy. You sat up in bed and looked out the window. The view from his room was beautiful. You’re so lost in thought you don’t realise when the water stopped running or when Lewis came in the room. He stood there looking at you, your back bare for him to see, your hair messy, the sun coming from the windows making you glow. Lewis, dressed in only his boxers, moves to the bed and slots himself behind you, his bare chest meeting your back as his arms sneak around your waist, pulling you back. You lean into his chest and take a deep breath, content with the moment. Lewis’ lips find their home where your neck meets your shoulder, placing soft feather-like kisses up and down the exposed skin, you move your head to the side giving him more room to do as he wants.

”Lewis.” You moan suddenly breathless, Lewis moves his hands up your arms lightly before you wince in pain, making him stop all movements and pull away from you. You freeze and close your eyes instantly, knowing why you were in pain.

”What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Lewis asks, feeling guilt for causing you pain. You shake your head no and sigh, still not looking at him.

”No, no, it’s not you.” Lewis looks at where his hands were and he sees the bruise on your bicep, his mind goes to last night and he thinks over his actions, did he hold your bicep, maybe squeezed a bit too hard. It definitely looks like hand marks. You stand up still naked and snatch Lewis’s shirt from the night before from the floor where you threw it and slip it on. The oversized shirt falls mid thigh, and the short sleeves come down to your elbows covering your bruise.

”Who the fuck did this to you?” Lewis follows you off the bed, you turn to look at him crossing your arms protectively, suddenly feeling self conscious, you refuse to meet his eyes and clear your throat but no words came out of your mouth. “y/n, just tell me what happened?”

”It’s nothing. He didn’t mean to.” You mutter and shake your head, your hair falling into your face.

“Who? Who did it?” Lewis pleaded with you and you closed your eyes and bit your lip to stop the tears, it wasn’t a secret how rough your father is especially in the RedBull garage but no one outside a few observant people(which don’t include Max) know how rough he is with you.

”My dad, but he was just angry. He’s not like that, not anymore.” You mumble the last part, but Lewis heard it loud and clear, and just like yesterday, he surprises you. Lewis pulls you in for a hug, his tattooed arms just pulling you close, and he holds you. He just holds you.

”Bloody hell, love, I’m sorry.” Lewis says in your hair, and you raise your head to look at him, but still staying in his hold.

”You have absolutely no reason to be sorry.” You tell him and your hands move up to his face, lightly touching his cheek, your eyes taking him in. “I don’t really care.”

“It still doesn’t make it right. You shouldn’t go through something like this.” Lewis says, and you shrug.

”Life isn’t really fair.” He felt that there’s more behind those words. You didn’t just mean what happened the day before. There’s more pain in your voice, in your past, and to him, it looked like no one took the time to talk to you about them to help you through those pains. Lewis finds himself wondering why, he’s known you for less than 24 hours and all he wants to do is get to know you, uncover all your secrets, help you where you need help, support you where you need support.

”Well, if you let me, I think I can make it a little more fair.” Lewis says, deciding that this isn’t the last time he’ll spend time with you. He pulls back and goes to his bedside table where his phone rests.

”What are you talking about?” You ask him confused.

”Give me your number, I’m taking you out next time we’re both free.” Lewis says and hands you his phone. You slowly take it and look up at him with wide eyes.

”You want to go out with me? like on a date?” You wanted to make sure you understood him correctly.

”I do.”

“Even though you know I come with baggage.” You want to make sure he understands it won’t be easy.

”I don’t think it’s baggage, but even if it was, I don’t care.” Lewis gives you one of his smiles that make you weak in your knees, and you don’t think twice and type in your number. Lewis instantly calls you, and your phone rings before he ends the call. “Now you also have my number, and if you ever need something, or someone or a place to just call me.”

”Thank you.”

”I haven’t done anything yet, love.”

”Oh you’ve already done a lot.” Most people would act as if nothing happened and they saw nothing, most wouldn’t want to go out with you knowing there’s a lot in your past that needs solving, most wouldn’t go out with their rival’s sister, but most aren’t Lewis Hamilton, and you’re glad he’s not like the most.

You and Lewis start texting, getting to know each other. You see a side to the Mercedes driver you’ve never seen before. He’s so easy to talk to. You feel like whatever you tell him is a secret he’ll take to the grave. In the couple weeks since you’ve started talking you’ve been more open with him than anyone else, not just about your past and growing up with Jos but about your feelings. He never judges and gives the best advice. He’s been supportive and understanding to a point you’ve asked yourself how he is real.

You asked him to keep your budding friendship (turing relationship) a secret and he agreed 100% with you, it’ll cause a lot of trouble when and if it comes out, and you’re not ready for that. And for the first time in forever you don’t spend your free time between races where Max is, you fly to wherever Lewis is, and so for a month you both find that time to get to know the other in a way that you’ve never done before, and you find yourself being Lewis’s girlfriend and it makes you the happiest thinking about it. He’s made you happier, and those closest to you have noticed you’re more smiley and happy those days.

Sneaking around like children, not two adults was part of the fun, but it also made it harder for you.

”What are you smiling at?” Kelly asks, leaning closer to you. You close your phone in an instant to the amusement of your brother’s girlfriend. Max was in a meeting or doing something for media, so you and Kelly were having lunch in the paddock.

“Nothing.” You say, and your face flushes red, making her laugh.

”Come on, I can tell you’re texting someone.” Kelly laughs and nudges you. You roll your eyes and take a sip from your drink. “Who is he?”

”Nonone.”

”So there’s someone.” Kelly raises her eyebrows, and you sigh and nod your head. Yes, Kelly squeals and looks like she’s ready for a gossip session.

“Kelly, you’re not getting more out of me.” You tell the female, and she pouts.

”Why? Even Max is wondering who you’re texting all the time.” Kelly is confused, and rightfully so, you’re very open with her and Max. Not the type to keep something like this a secret. Or so they thought, but how can they be 100% sure when you haven’t been with anyone for years or even shown interest in anyone.

”That’s why I can’t tell you.”

”What? you can trust me, I won’t tell him if you don't want to.” Kelly felt offended that you didn’t trust her to keep a secret. She’s close to you. Anyone close to Max is close to you. His friends are your friends.

”I wouldn't do that to you, if he found out you knew and didn’t tell him he’ll get mad.” You explain to her, wanting her to understand where you’re coming from.

”No he wouldn't.” Kelly replies, and you give her a look making her sigh, Max is protective, and no one is good enough for you in his eyes. “Okay maybe he will be, but who could you be dating for you to be so sure he’ll get mad, anyways.”

“I love you, Kells, but I can’t tell you.” You both sat in silence for a bit, Kelly was thinking of any possible men you might’ve come across the last month, she started crossing some out of the list she made in her mind that you wouldn’t like, before her eyes went wide.

”It’s a driver!” She shouts, and a few eyes snapped to look at you both. You choke on your drink and cough a few times. “Sorry.”

”What the fuck Kelly, you want to tell the whole world?” You whisper shout and she looks apologetically muttering sorry.

”It’s a driver then.” She whispered and you reluctantly nod, who knew this lunch would cause you so much. “I’m not going to push you for more… yet.”

”Well thank god for that.” You mutter, but know that she’ll look and analyse every single interaction you have with any driver. Kelly went over the 19 drivers, crossing out those in a relationship. Nico, Kevin, Valtteri, Daniel, Checo, Carlos, Pierre, Alex, Esteban, Charles, Oscar, and George are all in a relationship. That narrows it down, but it’s still a bit, but a few are still single. Fernando, Lewis, Lance, Zhou, Lando, Yuki and Logan that left her with 7 drivers that are single, and you’re at the age that dating someone older would raise a few eyebrows and so would dating some of the younger drivers, but it wouldn’t be totally out of the box. Lance is the one closest to you in age, but she doesn’t think he’s your type.

After the Austin Grand Prix, Lewis makes it to your room, and a few teams booked their rooms at the same hotel, something that you’ve come to appreciate. Your room isn’t as big as Lewis’s but it just happened that he made it to your room, the brit, and you decided to chill and have a lazy night. The TV was on, but you both weren’t focused on it, each having a glass of Almave in hand, the non alcoholic drink your new favourite and it looked like you’d never run out of it.

You just finished telling Lewis about something that happened when you were younger and still karting, telling him about all the drama that happened then and how silly it is. His arm was on the back of the sofa beides your head, your legs over his lap, and his other hand was on your thigh rubbing softly at the skin visible from your bunched up shorts.

”Why did you stop karting?” Lewis asked, your smile from laughing wasn’t all gone yet, but it did falter a bit. You suck in your lips and run your tongue over them.

”My dad said that there’s no place for women in motorsport and that Max will carry the family name in Formula 1.” You shrug, your head dropping a little. The hand besides your head moves to your face making you raise your head and look at him, Lewis felt bad for you but he tried not to be obvious about it, he knew you wouldn't want him to.

“I know for a fact then if you continued, you’d be kicking all out asses on track.” Lewis said softly, and you gave him a tight-lipped smile.

”You haven’t even seen me karting.” You tell him softly and find that your breath hits his face from how close you’ve gotten.

”Next time we meet up, we’ll do that.” Lewis said and gave your thigh a squeeze. You hum and lean closer, your lips meeting his. His lips were warm and soft, his hand moving from your cheek to the back of your head. And as always, his lips made a spark ignite inside you and left you warm and fuzzy. Soft sighs left your lips as your lips moved, Lewis’s hand moved up your thigh and over your butt, tugging you so you’d move with him until you’re standing him. You pull back just a little, your breath mingling with his, his eyes looking at you and making you fall in love with him.

”Lewis.” Just the way you said his name left him breathless and needy, he pulled you down for your lips to meet again.

You’re both disturbed when Lewis’s phone rings, you move from on top of him and he reaches over to get his phone, seeing the caller ID he gives you an apologetic look and answers the phone. You sigh sadly, feeling a bit irritated to be interrupted, but Lewis is a busy man, and she understands this.

“I’m sorry, love, but I have to go.” Lewis leans over to kiss your head before hastily gathering his things. “It’s an emergency meeting, I’ll text you when I’m done and come back.”

”Okay, I’ll wait for you.” You say and lay back on the sofa taking out your phone to scroll through the TV is still going. Around half an hour later, your door is opened, making you raise your head and frown when you see Max walking in.

”How did you get in?”

”I have a card.” Max shows you the door card that had your room number on it.

”Why?” You ask him confused. He also relieved that he hadn’t come in when Lewis was still here.

”You’ve been losing yours a lot lately, so I thought to just ask for one.” Max shrugged as if it’s normal, he sat down in the chair by your legs so you could look at him, you rolled your eyes at his words, not needing to ask how the front desk gave it to him. You haven’t been losing your cards. You’ve been asking for an extra one to give to Lewis.

“What’s that?” Max asks, and you don’t bother looking up from your phone.

”What’s what?”

“That.” You sigh and sit up, looking to where your brother is pointing, your heart drops. Lewis forgot his watch, and it’s laying there on the side table that had a lamp on it, and it’s so very obvious not yours. The IWC Big Pilot’s Watch Perpetual Calendar ‘Lewis Hamilton’ Edition IW503002 is a beauty, but no way can it be yours. You curse Lewis in your mind for taking it off when he first came in. You open your mouth and close it a couple of times, trying to find words to say but coming up empty. “I’ve seen this before.”

”I don’t think so.” You say nervously, chuckling. Max frowns in thought as he tries to remember where he had seen the watch before.

”No I’ve seen it, I remember the red.” Max mumbles, and the moment he remembers you can tell, his face says it all. “L-Lewis? That’s who you’ve been seeing behind my back.”

”Max-“

”No you had your chance to tell me, but you didn’t.” Max stands up, and you follow suit. His voice is angry and irritated, a bit of betrayal in there as well. “How could you date Lewis and not tell me how could you even date him, I can’t believe you’d do something like this!”

”I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d get angry, and I didn’t want you to be angry.” You try to explain to him your reason, but he’s having none of that.

”Because I’m calm now.” Max says sarcastically.

”Max, this is why I didn’t tell you.” Your hands move in frustration, one of your legs shake in anxiety, and you whisper. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

”What is there to understand? You’re sleeping with my rival.” Max shouts, it breaks you. Max may have this image as the villain in public but he’s not like that with you, he’s always been nice and loving, you’re the best thing about his childhood, the warm hug he had, the person he relayed on, the person that could always make him smile. Seeing the look in his eyes makes tears gather in yours. “y/n, I can’t believe you. After everything you’re just, what? Selling yourself to Lewis-“

”Max.”

”-Do you have any idea-“

”Max.”

”-how this can affect my image-“

”Max, please.”

”-I thought I could count on you not to do something like this-“

”I didn’t.”

”-Dad was right.”

”Wh-what?” This just breaks you in two, completely shatters you.

”He said that you’re an attention who-“

”Okay enough.” You say and raise your hands in the air to stop him, tears leaving your eyes freely. “Please leave, I can’t hear you anymore, I can’t.”

Max fights the need to say sorry and hug you. He’s too in his emotions, and he’s too stubborn and hardheaded to say anything.

”Just leave, please.” Max turns and leaves your room. The quality time he wanted to spend with you is ruined. The moment the door closes, he feels like his relationship with you is forever changed. It cracked, and he curses himself for being so careless with his words.

Part 2

[fastandcarlos]

My Worst Nightmare : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

Your eyes went wide as you watched it all unfold.

Your heart beat faster than it ever had done before.

The feeling of your hand gripping his arm made Max jump beside you as you watched Lando’s front wheel clip against the front wheel of Charles. As soon as the incident happened you saw an aggression in Lando that you had never seen before, biting your bottom lip as he edges closer and closer to Charles’ car, almost inviting himself to get into some sort of incident against the other driver.

“What’s he playing at?” Max hissed next to you, eyes rolling at what he was seeing from his best friend.

“It’s like he wants to go crashing into the barriers,” you murmured, shaking your head in disbelief.

You could picture Lando getting frustrated in his car, eyes rolling, mouth tutting.

But he was the reason that he almost crashed out of the race. The only person responsible for any potential accident was Lando. The man who promised you every single race that he’d drive safe and that things would be okay.

Max’s eyes stay on you for a few moments as you carry on watching the race. He knows you worry and fret, but he could see frustration in you too. Frustration that your boyfriend was willing to crash so dangerously just because his front wheel got clipped, something you’d seen happen so easily in races plenty of times.

You hoped that would be enough to make him stop.

Lando kept on pushing though, every opportunity he tested the water, keen to try and scrape through whenever even a millimetre presented itself. You struggled to watch after a while, terrified that you’d ultimately end up watching your boyfriend get seriously hurt.

You’d never felt so relieved when the race was finished, watching Lando drive back into the garage in fifth. When he climbed out the car he expected to see you ready to enter his open arms, but instead you remained rather standoffish with him, shooting him a glare.

“Well done,” you told him, your face flat, taking him by surprise.

“Try and be happy for me, yeah?”

“Sorry,” you coldly sighed, “can’t help it.”

Lando walks across and presses a kiss against your cheek before being pulled back to get weighed. He wanted to play dumb, but Lando knew just from the tone of your voice why you were upset with him, and truthfully, he understood why.

He kept looking at you as he finished off race proceedings, hoping for something from you. A couple of times you offered him a weak smile, but other than that you remained with Max, struggling to listen to Lando try and make excuses in the media pen for his erratic driving. Eventually Lando headed off to grab his things, leaving you and Max alone.

Max poked your side to get your attention, “try not to be too hard on him tonight.”

“But he was being stupid Max.”

“I know, but I can tell he regrets it.”

A sign came from you, “what was he thinking?”

“Probably just adrenaline,” Max tried to defend, “maybe he saw something there that we missed.”

The ride home was pretty silent between the two of you, Lando tried to make small talk but you were still unimpressed. You headed back to your hotel room, Lando following just behind to give you enough space. As soon as the door shut and you were all alone, he finally cleared his throat.

He waited for you to sit down, throwing himself down beside you before you could protest.

“You might as well say what you want to say.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Lando chuckled, “I already knew that.”

You shot a glare across at him.

Lando’s attempts to lighten the mood fell flat as you silently scolded him. The tight corners and near misses were part of the job, but what happened today took all of that to the extreme.

“I wasn’t going to crash,” Lando told you, reading your mind and figuring what you were thinking.

“How do you know that?”

“We’re professionals,” he reminded you.

Your eyes rolled as he tried to brush off what you were saying, trying his best to reassure you in his own Lando way.

After a few moments Lando shuffled across the sofa, resting his hand against your thigh. “Maybe things were a little too close for comfort today.”

“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all day,” you hummed, “being a pro doesn’t mean being stupid.”

“I’m sorry if I made you worry about me.”

“I thought you were going to crash,” you sighed.

“I didn’t though.”

“My point is though, you could have,” you reminded him, keeping your voice firm. “That would be my worst nightmare Lando.”

Your admission took him by surprise, his eyes soften as he looks at you. The hand that was on your thigh moved to intertwine in with your own, Lando moved even closer towards you, nudging against your side. He could hear the hurt in your voice, terrified that your worst nightmare would end up coming true.

Lando squeezes gently against your hand, whispering your name. “Perhaps I let my frustrations get the better of me today, I should’ve been more careful and not risked anything dangerous happening.”

“I don’t ever want a repeat of Vegas Lan.”

“Me too, I don’t ever set out to do anything like that,” he assured you.

You nodded in reply to him. “I don’t know what I’d do if something ever did happen.”

“Hey, let’s not think about that.”

You went to speak but your voice faltered as Lando pulled you into his side. Luckily for you, Lando knew exactly what you were trying to say to him.

“I promise that I won’t do it again,” he whispered.

A smile of relief appears on Lando’s face as the corners of your mouth slowly turn up into a smile of your own. “I hate you for scaring me like that today,” you jokingly told him.

Lando’s head shook as you hit against his chest, trying your best to sound serious through the few giggles that escaped.

“You love me really,” Lando whispered, pressing a kiss against the side of your head.

You hummed back at him, “I do, that’s why I’d hate to ever see you get hurt.”

Lando cups against the side of your face, bringing you towards him for a gentle kiss as if to remind you one more time, he really was alright.

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[gguk-n]

Last Straw (Lando Norris x Reader)

Thank you for the 400 followers. I love Lando but I felt like a bit of angst was needed.

Part 1 of Fading Shadow

Summary- Lando has been in a relationship for quite some time, most people didn't know that. Finally, the world finds out about Lando's girlfriend, he seems to forget about her.

Warning- Lando is a bit of an ass and the reader is a bit of a doormat

{Reader's POV}

Lando won the second race of his career and the season at Zandvoort, Max's home race. I was over the moon watching Lando cross the finish line. He was so happy to have won another race, finally. As he got out of the car he ran to his parents; after the greeting and congratulations, he walked away to be interviewed. I was stood there, dumb founded as Lando left without even acknowledging my existence; I could hear people whispering as Lando walked away

When we got back to the hotel, "Lan, do you wanna go out to celebrate?" I asked looking at him as he got ready for a shower. "Oh, Y/N, I made plans with the others; none of their girlfriends are coming. It'd be weird" he stated. "Oh, yeah, obviously. Well, I hope you have fun. I'll be here waiting for you" I said trying to give him a smile but I felt tears well up. Lando left soon after, while I was sat in the hotel scrolling through twitter when I saw something I wish I hadn't. I couldn't stop myself from reading through the tweets.

I could already imagine my friends screaming at me for staying after everything. It had always been like this, it always felt like Lando was too embarrassed to be seen with me. We started dating a year and a half back but we met 2 years back, when I was on a vacation with my friends. He was the best guy, or so I thought. We exchanged numbers and stayed in contact until he asked me out. It was straight out of a movie, the whole nine yards. But he wouldn't let me tell my friends, "baby come on, why do you wanna tell everyone and ruin the fun just yet. I like the thrill, isn't it fun trying to act like there's nothing between us" he said as he pushed me on my back on the sofa while his lips trailed the exposed skin on my torso; honestly I'd lose any train of thought once his lips were on my skin. Though I accidentally let it slip one day, they had been trying to get me to go on a blind date. So, I told them I was dating Lando Norris. They were so excited and wanted to meet him.

When Lando found out about that, he was furious and didn't speak to me for days. "HOW COULD YOU TELL THEM? AFTER ALL THE TIMES I TOLD YOU NOT TO....ARE YOU STUPID?" he shouted. "Lan, it was an honest mistake. They kept trying to set me up on a blind date and I didn't wanna go, obviously since I have you. Please, I'm sorry. I won't do anything stupid again. Please just join me for lunch on Sunday. I'm really sorry" I cried. "Then you should've gone on that stupid date" he spat as he walked away. I should've known then. It was only after I begged and pleaded that Lando agreed to meet my friends. He never let me forget how he did me a favour by agreeing to meet my friends. "baby, you know how much I love you right" he asked. "yeah" I replied as he intertwined his fingers with mine. "I can't share you with others. I get so jealous. You're mine and only mine. And that's why I can't have you meet my friends" he said as he started sucking on my neck.That's why I didn't bring up the fact that I hadn't met his friends since we'd known each other for a year and dating for half of it. We barely even went out on dates; we'd always have in home dates since he was a celebrity and didn't like the paps. He would always say that he enjoyed the normalcy and the feeling of being a regular guy with me. "Baby, do you really wanna go out, where we would be spotted and then people say stuff about us. Don't you like being home, wear whatever you want. I can touch you however I want. Come on, why do you wanna ruin something so perfect" he hummed against my lips as his fingers pushed my underwear aside. I was so naive and thought that he was such a romantic guy.

It a little before our 1 year anniversary when I started asking him to take me along to the races since I wanted to be there to support him in person. "Lan, I really wanna be there for your races. I wanna see my boyfriend being cool at what he does." I whined. "You already do see me on the teli, it's practically the same" he said. "Please Lan" I begged. "Baby, I love you I truly do and I wanna show you off to the world but you know how the fans can get, they ruined my last relationship and I can't lose you. I love you too much" he said making me blush. I believed him like the idiot that I was. I believed every lie that left his pretty lips even when he would say that all those pictures of him on twitter with girls were edited and that he would never do that to me. I believed him.

I don't know how much I begged to be at a race and when I got to go to the first race of my life with him as his girlfriend and of the season; I was ecstatic. I made sure to be dressed well so as to not embarrass Lando and made sure to be a little controlled in my movements even though I was super excited to be there since I loved Formula One. All the other drivers were pretty shocked to meet me and even more so when they found out we'd been dating. They were all very kind and so were their girlfriends. I thought we'd be the best of friends and I'd have someone to hang out with while my boyfriend raced. Oh how stupid I was, they never even told me that Lando cheated on me or that their boyfriends knew and they never told me. I had an inkling that Lando was cheating on me; I saw it with my own eyes on the night before my birthday; the day of the Miami GP and he was celebrating with everyone and I saw him kissing a girl. No one saw me because I left immediately and cried myself to sleep. I hated myself for never confronting Lando; I brushed it off thinking that if I tried harder Lando would be back to himself, the Lando I know. But the Lando I knew was a facade and never existed. Lando had only been playing with my heart, it seems.

Did I tell you? He forgot our anniversary and said he would make it up to me. Which I do not believe he has. "Fuck baby, I'm sorry" he whispered as he wiped away my tears. "You know how busy I've been with the season starting and stuff. You'll forgive me right? I'll make it up to you, promise." he said while I nodded along to him. My friends hated his guts, but I was the one covering for him. When they asked why we weren't public; I said I wanted to be private. When they asked about Lando's multiple infidelities I would lie to their face and say that everything was a lie and a ploy to ruin his reputation; that's what I knew then and believed. I would see them face palm themselves mentally, now that I thought about it.

I guess being embarrassed by the man you love, multiple times, publicly can fuck you up. Because right now, I couldn't even cry anymore. I couldn't believe the other girls wouldn't even reply to my texts on the group chat; they added me to. This was humiliating. I was done with that asshole and I wasn't about to let him walk all over me anymore.

I wiped away the tears that were streaming down my face. I got dressed and decided to show up at the same bar he was at. When I entered, I saw him, dancing and drinking with others. I saw the other drivers with their girlfriends; I couldn't help but laugh bitterly. I walked up to the bar and sat down and started ordering the most expensive drinks they had. "Bad day?" The bartend asked. "Horrible, my boyfriend's been cheating on me" I chuckled. "I'm sorry." he looked apologetic. "You have nothing to apologise for. Just add the tab of every drink I put down my throat to that guy in the white shirt" I said directing his eyes to Lando. "Lando Norris?" he asked. "Yeah" I said and started to drink. I was sure Lando saw, I could feel it. I felt multiple eyes. I felt my phone buzz multiple time; I wasn't sure if it was some one who cared about me or those assholes since I didn't want to check my phone.

After a good hour of just drowning my feelings in alcohol, I stumbled my way out of the bar. I had made the decision to move out of that hotel room to another hotel and stay there before I flew back to get all my stuff. Lando would be too hammered to realise I was gone. I woke up the next morning with a major hangover but I knew what I wanted. I flew back to our his home in Monaco and took all my stuff; thankfully not a lot and left with a note on the table saying 'We are done'. I left any and everything he gave me, which wasn't a lot when you think about how I was dating a millionaire. I blocked Lando's number while I waited for my flight back home, can't believe I gave so much up for this man boy. I will be putting myself first finally.

{Lando's POV}

I saw her, but I wasn't sure if it was really Y/N so I texted her but no reply. Apparently, she was at the bar we were at but she didn't approach me or us. Everyone saw her, I thought she didn't see us but I found out she knew I was there since she billed everything she had to me; which was a lot of alcohol, almost enough to cover half the amount I spent on the group. I knew I was fucked. I had no idea how I was gonna explain myself to her. I tried texting her but no reply. I think she blocked me and when I saw twitter I saw Y/N had posted a story but I couldn't see it either; guess she blocked me on there too.

I flew back as soon as I was able to, to find the house empty and a note on the table saying we're done. I guess I deserved that after the shit I pulled; well at least it's not as messy as I expected it to be.

[viennakarma]

Everything I Wanted II.

LESTAPPEN X READER (PART 2)

Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

Word count: 8.9k

Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, angst, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read

Relationships: Lestappen x Reader

Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader

Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader

Notes: this is full of motorsport categories inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. This chapter is very angsty and none of it is an attack at the drivers nor their fans and personalities, please.

I know I KNOW, this got out of hand, AGAIN. I promise next part (and hopefully last) is more focused on the romance, and the happy ending reader deserves.

Find me on Twitter!

-

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

-

You spent Christmas with your mom, sharing a lot of presents and watching a bunch of stupid Christmas movies. New Year’s was now a tradition to spend with the Raikkonen Family, joined with the closest friends for a little get together. It was a good opportunity to reconnect with Kimi’s kids who missed you a lot during the season.

Charles never contacted you during winter break, which you were sure was the best after that mistake. You hated each other too much and the only thing that could come out of that was toxicity from the both of you. You refused to even acknowledge what had happened and its implications, that wouldn’t and couldn’t mean anything.

During the pre-season testing in Bahrain, you and Charles were back to whatever your relationship was before that one lapse in judgment months before.

Nobody noticed anything.

One day, Fernando pulled you aside for a little chat. You two sat side by side on big moving boxes, sipping on energy drinks.

“There’s something I have been wanting to talk to you about since last year,” he started, seemingly pensive, distant.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, yeah. Remember after we first met when you asked me if I had advice for you regarding your career?” Fernando said, and you remembered.

Right after you had gotten close, you asked him for advice, you always did, especially about racing. But one day, you were chatting about his career, and you asked if had any lessons you should never forget. He had laughed joking about read all your contracts then asking if you were calling him old, but he said if he ever had any advice, he would tell you.

“Yes, have you got my answer yet?”

“Sí, Nena,” he paused, looking deep into your eyes, “enjoy.”

You frowned and he saw the confusion on your face.

“I see much of my younger self in you, you know? The same passion, this fiery desire to win, your goal for the championship, to conquer the world…” Fernando paused, looking up to the clear sky, the sunset coming around, “And I did. But I wish I had enjoyed it more. I should’ve gone to parties, I should’ve visited the countries we went to and tried the food, I should’ve made more friends, I should’ve had more lovers… I was so focused on winning, on getting my hands on that trophy of champion of the world, that I missed out on a lot.”

You felt your eyes tear up, and you wiped it before the tears came down. Putting your hand on his shoulder, you smiled at him.

“It’s such an honor race with you. And an even greater honor to have you as a friend, Nano” you whispered to him, you two laughed as his eyes watered too, and slapping his shoulder you laughed, “don’t make me cry, you old softie!”

You took his advice to your heart.

You went to the parties, you met new people, and that’s how after two entire seasons, you managed to befriend Lando, your teammate. You two had to open your hearts a little bit and meet in the middle. Which proved to be great, the whole team loved the change in your dynamic. You still weren’t besties, but you were close colleagues, and that was great. Everyone noticed the change and it reflected on how you started racing as a team instead of individually.

The car was even better than the year before, and the first race of the season you got a promising win.

That win, Lando’s pestering, and Fernando’s advice was how you ended up in a party after the Bahrain GP. Wearing a skimpy mini dress and 5 tequila shots deep, swaying your hips to the sound of Rihanna. You were dancing and singing with Lando and a few of his friends, loudly screaming the lyrics.

When it was way too hot for you, you grabbed a water bottle and beelined your way out of the crowded dance floor. You found a corner of the VIP section where the AC seemed to be working better, and as you stumbled inside the small space, you ran chest first into someone.

“Sorry,” you said, taking a step back and pressing your back against the cold wall.

“Enjoying your win?” Your head snapped up as you recognised Max’s voice. You had run into him.

Lando had mentioned inviting Max to the party, he had gotten a P2 in the race but you doubted he would go to a party he knew you would attend. You were obviously wrong.

“You know I am,” the victory was so good that nothing could ruin your mood.

“Well, then enjoy it. I’m coming for the win, again.” He warned you but his voice was devoid of anything, just sounded like he was casually telling you about the weather. But you knew that he was implying his championship the year before, rubbing it in your face.

“Don’t be so confident, Max,” you finished your water, smirking at him, “Enjoy the view of my rear!”

You flipped your hair, feeling his eyes on you the whole walk back to the dance floor.

And yet-

Somehow-

You ended up back at that small corner, dancing with your body pressed between Verstappen’s and the wall, his hand holding your jaw firmly, you rolled your hips against him, feeling the way his body responded to yours.

“We can’t-” he said to you, still, his eyes hadn’t left your lips, like he was so oh so tempted.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed. Sober you would never do that, but then, that was a problem for later. Checking to see if anyone was looking at you, you hooked a finger around his waistband and pulled him towards the bathroom.

As soon as the two of you were inside, you locked the door and Max pressed your back against the door, latching his lips to yours in a very desperate open mouthed kiss. You hugged his shoulders, opening your lips to him, his hands went down your sides and he grabbed your ass, pulling you into him. But that wasn’t enough, so he held your thighs and pulled up, carrying you. You locked your legs around his waist, and he stopped the kiss to walk, sitting you on the marble side of the sink, still between your legs, forcing his bulge against your panties, and eliciting a moan from you.

He took a half step back to hike your dress up, palming your cunt over your panties feeling the dampness of it, he tried to press his hand under your panties, but the lacy fabric didn’t leave much space, so he simply tore the bottom of them, exposing you to him. He just ran a finger over your slit, collecting your wetness for a brief moment before pushing a finger into you. Max watched your face with concentration, studying your body’s responses. Your hips shaking at the movement of his finger, and when the second one joined, you got louder. He curled his fingers up, his thumb pressing your clit, and you had to use both hands to hold onto him, your head lolling back against the mirror.

“Take it and shut the fuck up,” he grunted between clenched teeth.

He was pressing your insides so good, the slick sound of his fingers going in and out, his heavy breathing, the loud music outside and his laser focused fingers had you coming against his fingers in minutes. When he noticed you close, cunt spasming against his fingers, he pressed the other hand against your mouth, covering your moans when your toes curled and you orgasmed on his hand.

Max barely let you recover as he opened his jeans and stroked himself twice before pushing his cock into you in one swift move, making you gasp at the sudden intrusion.

“That’s what you wanted, right? Fucking teasing me all night,” He pushed particularly hard, hitting your g-spot, making you see stars, “you’re a fucking menace, y’know that? Fucking insufferable,” then his words became a mumbling of something dutch you couldn’t quite catch anymore with the way his hips snapped against yours, taking all your focus away and turning you into a mess of moaning.

Max fucked like he raced, focused and relentless, brutal. He hugged you with one arm around your waist to keep you in place and the other held you face, tilting your head so he could kiss you, or whatever that mess of saliva, tongues and teeth was. Your orgasm crashed through you unexpectedly, and you only hugged him tighter, pressing your face against his chest, biting into his skin through the fabric of his T-shirt to silence yourself, your teeth sinking into him was enough to send him also over the edge, coming with moans against your ear.

That night, you went home with shaking legs and an incoming headache, as Max left with the scraps of your panties in his pocket and your lipstick stain on his shirt, above his chest.

It was the seventh race of the year, Monaco, and you absolutely hated that specific track since your years of F2. During your two first years in F1 you had awful experiences, the rookie year you DNF and the year prior you had barely managed a P7. You were trying to keep your head up, be hopeful that you could at least try for top 5.

But since you couldn’t catch a fucking break, an old video of your teenage years resurfaced.

You were walking to your first round of interviews when Amanda, your PR manager, started walking by your side.

“There’s something. An old video of a karting competition resurfaced, where Max and Charles pretty much call you stupid,” Amanda was always direct, you could give it to her.

“Let me see the video” you asked, offering your hand for her phone.

“We don’t have time, but everyone will ask you about it. I need you to be the bigger person and act like it isn’t important, yes? They will try to taunt you and get a bad reaction from you, I need you to dismiss everything they throw at you. Agreed?”

You sighed. You knew the stuff from your teens were pretty bad, you rarely badmouthed Max or Charles, but they always felt threatened by you, so there were lots of instances they attacked you. Honestly, you just didn’t want to come out of this victimized. So as you entered the first round of interviews, you decided you were going to downplay anything they asked you.

“Y/N, have you seen the footage of you, Max and Charles from your teenage years that resurfaced recently?”

“No, uh, I haven’t.”

Someone pushed an iPad in your hands because of course, they wanted a live reaction from you. You pressed play, reading the subtitles someone put on the video. It was an amateur recording like a post race interview made by another teenage guy. First as Max walked out of the track, the guy asked what he thought of your win.

“It was luck, she’s not bright enough to think of a strategy,” Max said, walking away, clearly pissed having lost to you.

There was a cut and the camera was turned on again when Charles walked toward the guy asking the question. He repeated exactly the same question he had asked Max.

“Y/N, I don’t worry about her long term. She’s not going very far in this sport anyway,” Charles shrugged, seemingly unbothered.

As the video cut again, it showed your face, you remembered when that was. You were 14, and your dad had dropped you a few months earlier, so you were working your ass off balancing school, work and karting.

“Hey, Y/N. What do you think of your result today?”

“Uh, I tried a new strategy I learned earlier this week, thankfully it worked in my favor,” teen-You dried your forehead with your coat’s sleeve.

“What are your plans for this competition?”

“Well, I hope to be good enough to get into F4 next year, and work my way up into Formula 1,” you smiled softly and walked away after a quick bye.

The video ended and you still spent a few seconds staring at the black screen of the iPad. This interview didn’t come to your mind in more than a decade, but it was nice seeing how you made your 14-year-old dream come true.

“So, what do you say?” The reporter extended his mic to you.

“I guess I proved them wrong, right?” You giggled a little, “don’t take it to heart, really. We were all hormonal teenagers, I’m sure if someone digs, they will find a video of me saying the same stuff about them,” you shrugged, despite that being a lie, sounded dismissive enough.

“So it doesn’t upset you?” The reporter insisted, and you knew he wanted a scandal you weren’t willing to give.

“Of course not. I’ve always known my worth, and I’m P1 in the driver’s championship as of right now. So I don’t really care.”

The interviewers soon let the video go, when they realized you didn’t care about it. You weren’t sure if anyone would also approach Charles or Max with questions about the same video, but you couldn’t care less, you wanted to avoid drama for the time being so you could focus on the championship instead of this bullshit.

On the morning of qualifying, you were in your room, trying to meditate and clear your mind, when a knock interrupted you.

“Guys, I asked for twenty minutes so I could-” you stop yourself when you realize it isn’t anyone from your team, but it’s Max and Charles, “what are you doing here?”

“We came to apologize about the video,” Max started.

“Did your PR teams send you here?” You looked around, trying to catch a camera or even a phone recording.

“No uh, we realized we were very immature with you, and this video is just proof of how silly that was,” Charles sighed, seemingly embarrassed.

“You don’t need to apologize, I mean- the two of you really had it out for me, you called me dumb a lot,” you pointed to Max, then Charles, “and you called me ugly countless times. I don’t know why it would make any difference now.”

You were just so used to being defensive, to protect yourself from hatred you found it hard to believe them, to give them a chance to apologize because you couldn’t believe it to be genuine.

“Even if you don’t take it, or believe it, I would like to apologize for that behavior. I was just a stupid kid.” Max looked deep into your eyes, which could’ve made you uncomfortable if he didn’t seem so honest.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. It was too idiotic to be like that to you, growing up. You were just a kid too.” Charles added.

You understood where that apology came from, it was stupid and embarrassing for all three of you this teenage rivalry when you all were barely mid racers back in the day. Sighing, you looked around, dropping your façade for a second, allowing yourself to display the same honesty they showed you.

It was hard and required some sort of deprogramming because you could only see them as rivals, like your dad had whispered in your brain so many times before, like their actions towards you had cemented dad’s words. They had said things that were on your mind for so long, that had made you defensive and deflective.

“Look, don’t worry about it. Whatever happened back then, it’s water under the bridge,” You shifted on your feet. As they started walking away, you added “this doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

They only nodded before leaving. Your routine went back to the same, and as the next scandal went on, people forgot about the silly video, but a very specific part of the fans started shipping you and both your rivals.

The rivalry never died down though.

Then, out of nowhere, Sebastian pulled you and Lewis aside to a conversation. Then he told you that he was going to retire by the end of the season. It was the first time the two of them saw you cry, and Sebastian hugged you tight, shushing your crying softly.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, petting your head.

“No, don’t apologize,” you let him go, drying your face, “I have listened to you talking countless times about how you missed the kids. Don’t apologize for choosing to be a great dad. I know Hanna and the kiddos will be ecstatic.”

“You two are my closest friends here, that’s why I wanted to tell you first, before my announcement.”

“Thank you, Seb,” you said, eyes still watering, “I’m going to miss having you around.”

“Thank you for telling us beforehand,” Lewis said, also visibly emotional.

The season was writing itself to be just as close as the year prior, but now you were slightly better at keeping the lead most.

That is until Zandvoort. This GP was always a nightmare to you, because it was full of Max’s fans, and they absolutely hated you for being his rival. You had been booed when you were on the podium the year before, so now, you and Amanda decided it was best to keep your head down during the whole week. Not out of shame, but more of a matter of safety, you didn’t know how far the crowd could go in antagonizing you. When you were booed the other year, Max had said it was part of the sport and dismissed the conversation.

The morning of free practice, you went into the paddock very low-key and kept to yourself. You arrived with a little cup of coffee and got mentally ready for a hostile environment the whole weekend. That, until you spotted a small group of people dressed with your color and wearing your number, waving wildly to you.

In a spur of the moment decision, you went there, getting close to the barrier to sign a few caps and take a few selfies. In retrospect, you knew you shouldn’t have done that, especially with only two bodyguards accompanying you.

You were finishing chatting with your fans when you felt something heavy hit the side of your head and the impact made you stumble backwards, you were confused as you heard the screams and felt one of the bodyguards pull you back, as the other jumped the barrier and started running. You patted your temple and something wet and sticky was dripping down the side of your face. You stared at the small group of fans who were looking at you horrified. Staring at the hand, you saw the red staining your fingers, and as the bodyguard kept pulling you away to somewhere safer, the thing flowed even more and  got into your left eye.

You wondered if it was blood as you touched your temple but felt nothing, not a gash nor small cut. You covered your left eye as it started to sting from what you supposed smelt like paint.

“Hey, hey, what happened? You’re bleeding!” Max jogged up to you.

“Not blood, just paint” you muttered, trying to use your coat to clean your face.

“Someone threw a paint ball at her,” the bodyguard said.

“Fuck, it’s burning!” You exclaimed, feeling tears in your left eye.

“Come here, the RB hospitality is close,” Max said, holding your wrist, he stopped shortly pointing to your bodyguard, “and you, sort this and find the person who did it.”

You let yourself be taken by Max into the RB territory, the burning so annoying that you rather take whatever solution he was thinking of. He held your waist and placed you sitting on a sink, and then you felt water streaming down your face.

“Stay still,” Max commanded, holding a hose over your head, pouring water down your face, “now blink slowly, let the water wash it,” his voice soft as you did what he told you to. Slowly but surely, it washed the paint away, relieving your left eye from the stinging. Max held the hose up and held your chin, tilting your head up so he could check your eye, still letting the water stream down your face.

You took a few minutes, breathing and regulating your heartbeat from that scare, trying to come back to normal and understand fully what was going on. From what you gathered, you were chatting with fans when someone else came and threw something with paint at you.

“How does it feel?” 

“It’s better, already stopped burning,” you told him, feeling your heart miss a beat at the close proximity you found yourself to him. You were sitting on a sink, Max standing between your legs pretty much like you two had done months before for entirely different reasons.

“Open your eye, let me see,” he asked, and you tried to blink it open, “can you see?”

“It’s a little blurry but I believe it will get better,” you explained, and he didn’t let go of your chin. Suddenly, he covered your right eye with the other hand, leaving you only with your left eye sight.

“How many fingers am I putting up?” He showed it to your left eye. The vision was a bit blurry but you still could make out the shapes very clearly.

“Four, Max. It’s just a little bit blurry, probably will get better in a few minutes” you sounded annoyed, you tried to move but he pressed a hand against your waist, keeping you in place.

“Now, what happened?” He asked finally. You ignored the proximity, and the hand still on your body.

“We’re in Zandvoort, that’s what happened,” you shrugged, really annoyed about it.

“What do you mean?” He was visibly confused. You scoffed because you knew it wasn’t something he didn’t know, since the year before he has dismissed the importance of how hostile people were to you.

“We’re massively surrounded by your fans, Max.”

“I don’t understand.”

“They hate me because you hate me, and they think because you hate me they’re justified in their hostility towards me,” You explained, with a sigh, you pushed away from Max, “this GP has been like this for me ever since Rookie year.”

“I don’t hate you,” he said, brows furrowed.

“You do. And they do too,” you pointed down at the paint that had also stained your shirt as proof.

“I don’t,” he insisted and you rolled your eyes, jumping off the sink, but he didn’t give you space, which made you stand chest to chest with him, “I promise.”

You stared at him, breathless. That wasn’t part of the game you played, being kind, sounding worried and making promises. None of that was part of this whole rivalry. Pushing his chest, you tried getting away but he caged you against the sink, body flush against yours.

“Do you believe me?” He asked and your eyes fell to his lips, and you allowed yourself to remember the desperate and chaotic kisses you had shared in a dimly lit bathroom, “I don’t support any of this behavior.”

You heard voices and steps approaching, which made you finally push him away, walking towards the door. Whatever little magic had been happening between those walls was undone the moment you remembered none of that would’ve happened if he had politely put a stop to it earlier.

“It’s part of the sport and I have to deal with it, right?” You returned the very same words he had said about you when you were booed by the crowd the year prior.

As you opened the door, you were faced with Sebastian. He stopped, taking you in and then pulling you in a hug.

“Are you ok? We just heard what happened!” He murmured, guiding you out of the bathroom. He held your shoulders and looked at your face, checking how your left eye was still a little red, “we should take you to see a doctor, come on.”

Lewis soon arrived at the entrance of the RBR station, he warned about the reporters crowding outside, waiting for a glimpse of you after the attack. The British man gave you a Mercedes coat so you put it over your head and avoid the cameras waiting outside. With the bodyguards and both Lewis and Sebastian leading you away, you ended up at the medical center, and after a quick examination, the doctor gave you eye drops to put throughout the day.

Your Principal suggested you sit the FP1 out, letting the reserve driver take your place while you recovered. By the middle of FP1, your eyesight was 100% and you went to get ready for FP2. The whole day you felt like everyone was being extra careful, tiptoeing around you. You hated feeling like you were being pitied, so when the inevitable round of interviews came, you knew what you had to do.

“We heard about your incident earlier today, how are you feeling about it?” Someone asked.

“I’m pretty upset, to be honest. Formula 1 is a sport loved around the whole world, and the paddock overall is supposed to be a safe place not only for the fans, but also the workers and drivers. What happened today is unacceptable and could’ve been much worse. I’m voicing my dissatisfaction and I intend to, through legal means, take this complaint to the FIA.”

Later that night, as you laid awake on your bed, scrolling through the repercussions of the day, you stopped when you saw a snippet of Max's interview.

“What happened today was dangerous and unacceptable, I don’t support this behavior and I stand with Y/N,” that was all he said, but Max usually was a man of few words, always knowing when it was enough.

You knew he should’ve voiced that much earlier in your career, specifically after the booing the year before, but still- He also could have opted to not say anything at all, and he didn’t.

Amanda also sent you the news that the fan who had attacked you was found and banned for life from Formula 1.

After calling Sebastian, you managed to get ahold of Max’s phone number and texted him a simple message.

Thank you. Twice. - Lioness

The text went to read almost immediately, and the three dots appeared from his side of the screen. You wait, and wait, and wait. And then the dots disappeared, and an answer never came.

After a solid P2 that weekend in Zandvoort, you went home for the summer break. You and your mom had planned to go to Monaco for a little while since you were planning on buying a place there. From there, you and your mom would go all around the French Riviera to enjoy the sea and spend a few days in a spa resort. Then, you would go back home and relax before going to Ibiza for a weekend to meet Lando and his friends to enjoy some partying.

Everything went according to plan, but one day when you came back home after the trip to the French Riviera, you found your mom passed out on the living room floor.

You called an ambulance, quickly taking her into the hospital. Everything was a blur, the tests and scans, your mom still unconscious on a hospital bed, and the results. The results that pulled the floor from under your feet.

Your brain couldn’t fully compute what was said. Cancer Stage 4. Surgery. Palliative care.

The world was muted around you as you sat on a chair in the waiting room, hands shaking when you tried to understand what was happening. You somehow ended up calling the one other person you trust.

“Y/N? What happened?”

“I don’t understand- she just- she just passed out and I thought- but- but they said- palliative care” you try to come up with words.

“Talk to me. Are you sick?” Kimi’s voice is so focused and a little soothing.

“It’s mom”

“Send your location, I’m going there,” that’s all he said.

Waiting for Kimi gave you some sense of purpose, because it’s Kimi. He could fix anything. He fixed your life when you were 14, he can do it again. He would get there and find a way to help. Your mind got so clouded when the word cancer was thrown in the conversation, that you probably missed the part about treatments and- and surgery and stuff.

In your mother’s room there was a comfortable couch where you tried to settle to sleep, but you only spent countless hours awake. You hoped to see the doctor again to try and get him to explain everything for a second time.

You wished you were smart and quick, but no, you just sat there holding onto the hope that Kimi had a way to fix this.

Kimi arrived early the next morning, knocking on the door before entering. You stood up, hugging him tight.

“What happened?”

“It’s pancreatic cancer, they said. We need to see more about surgery and- and treatments.”

You and Kimi found the doctor, who explained again, and in that moment you finally understood what he meant the first time around. She was in a late stage of pancreatic cancer, which was usually a very difficult illness to find before it is too late, due to the placement of the organ in the body and late symptoms. The only options were either to try a very risky surgery and chemo so she could extend her life for around 8 months to a year. Or she could go home to live her last few months the way she wanted.

You begged and cried and bribed and offered every single solution your brain could muster to try and save her. Kimi held you when you fell to the floor, sobbing.

When your mom woke up and you and Kimi told her the diagnosis, she cried too, sobbing in your arms as you tried to hold it together for her sake. It took a couple of days for her to choose to go home. The two of you spent the last days of summer break traveling around the world a bit more, visiting temples and statues, and seeing nature and everything good the world had to offer, going to places motorsport hadn’t taken you to.

Your mom went to every race week from there on, even when she felt especially weak, even when you had to hire a full time medical team for her. 

Your focus on the season was solely on the moment between entering the car and leaving the car. You still managed to race like you’ve done before, calm and controlled, with the help of your engineers and team, you still could put the car where you wanted it, paving your way for a solid world championship that year. It was like your brain was seeing racing as the one thing in your life you had full control over, so sometimes you even felt like you and the car were one.

You didn’t tell anyone about her. Though every driver noticed how distant you were, even Charles and Max and the ones that weren’t very close to you noticed how you were only fulfilling your obligations and leaving, you weren’t even celebrating your wins, leaving the fastest you could after a race.

The Singapore GP was tough for you, having to leave your mom home alone with the medical staff and a couple of friends from her book club, since she wasn’t strong enough to travel anymore. Your attention was failing all throughout media day and free practices. Qualifying was shit compared to your performance the rest of the season.

In Q3 you did a reasonable sector 1 and 2 but you messed up sector 3 completely. It was a complete accident when you got in the way of a Ferrari when he was doing his fast lap, and you ended up messing his qualy too. Jace let you know it was none other than Charles Leclerc, who was setting the pace for a pole position. Out of 19 drivers, you had to ruin his lap. In the end, Max got pole, Charles qualified P3 and you qualified P5.

You went through the motions during the post qualifying press. You were about to leave after debriefing, when Charles Leclerc found you on the way to the parking lot. You pulled your coat tighter around yourself protectively as he walked up to you. You were hoping to escape his fury at least until after the race the next day. Before he could even get a word in, you started.

“Look, I know I messed up your pole. I know you won’t believe me, but it wasn’t intentional. I really thought there was no one doing fast laps on the track, I thought everyone was either still doing out laps or in the pits, so when you-”

“Calm down, breathe,” he interrupted you, “I’m not here to fight.”

“No?” You frowned, confused with the kindness in his eyes.

“We know you’re going through something, and I’m sure I’m the last person you want to hear this from, but you’re not alone. And you should really consider talking with someone on the grid. They’re all- we’re all worried about you.”

The words felt alien coming from his mouth, but the gentleness was so comforting you felt a lump in your throat.

“Why do you think I’m not ok?” You muttered trying to sound confident, but your voice failed, betraying you.

“You’re skinny and you look sleep deprived for a few weeks now,” Charles said directly.

“Damn, thanks.”

“I don’t mean it like that, you know it,” he paused, putting both hands on his pockets, “have you been eating?” Your lack of response made him press further, “have you eaten today?”

You pressed your lips together, not wanting to answer that.

“Let’s go, I’ll drive you to the hotel, we’ll stop on the way to grab some food,” Charles gestured to his car, a few meters away. You stood there, shocked as he started walking away, then he stopped looking over his shoulder, “come on, I don’t have all the time in the world.”

As you sat in his Ferrari, Charles put music on and you didn’t do much talking, but it was tranquil. He called the restaurant to order take out on the way, and 30 minutes later he dropped you off at the hotel with a bag full of food.

“Thank you, Charles.” You whispered before leaving the car.

You ate the food while on a video call with your mom.

You recovered well during the race, finishing P2, behind Max and ahead of Charles.

Your mom passed away a few days after the Japanese Grand Prix, the one you had won and dedicated it to her from the top step of the podium, even if she wasn’t there, just watching from home. You went home and stayed with her, holding her hands and hugging her as much as you could.

Some part of you knew she was somehow fighting, because she had promised you the year before she would be there when you became world champion. You could see she was hoping to make it to the end of the season, but you also knew she wouldn’t, and you rather she didn’t have to endure any more pain just for your sake.

“You don’t need to fight anymore, ma,” you whispered before she went to sleep, “you raised a strong woman, too. I will see you on the other side, ok? You can rest now, I love you.”

“I’m so proud of you, honey. I love you to the moon and back.”

You made it through her small funeral, following what she had written down before passing. An intimate funeral, full of flowers and a toast to her life. You cried the whole time, with Kimi and Minttu taking turns at comforting you as they could. Coming back to an empty home smelling of cleaning products made you almost lose your mind, and the sight of you in such despair was enough for Kimi to convince you to stay with them until you had to travel for the next race, in almost seven days.

The days passed in a crying blur, you let part of your team know about your mom’s passing. Only Amanda, Jace and your Principal. Jace tried to convince you to take a break and not go to the next race in Austin, but you quickly shut it off. Not only because racing was the one thing keeping you sane amidst the chaos, but because you were so close to the championship, and  it was still close competition with Max and Charles, so you couldn’t afford to lose a race and the points that could come with it.

You had to honor your mom in some way.

That’s how you ended up on a plane to Austin with Kimi and Amanda. You knew Kimi had convinced you to let him go because he was sure you’d have a mental breakdown anytime along the weekend, but deep down you appreciated the company. Arriving there, Jace was the first to hug you and whisper his condolences, as well as your TP too.

You survived the entire weekend without breaking down crying in public, but that was your worst race in a few months, the first time out of a podium since Spa. You ended up P5, which luckily wasn’t too bad because Max finished P4 which you were grateful for as he was the one who was P2 in the driver’s championship close behind you.

After that week, you packed your stuff and moved to the new condo in Monaco you had bought during summer break. Despite loving your mom to pieces, you couldn’t manage to live alone in the house you bought for her a couple of years before, it was lonely and it hit you with overwhelming waves of sadness all the time. You distracted yourself a lot with buying furniture and decorations for the new place, and discovering Monte Carlo in a whole new way. The one comfort in all that, was knowing your mom wasn’t suffering anymore.

Then you went straight to Mexico for the next Grand Prix, this time, Kimi left you because he had to come home to Minttu and the kids. Amanda had been such a support for you, that you knew you had to give her something special for the holidays, out of gratitude.

Everything was going as expected until the press conference. You were there with Charles, Max, Sebastian and Lando. You suspected they were putting you always in the same group as Max and Charles because, as the season nearing the end, only three races left, they were your close competition.

While someone asked something of Charles, you were whispering with Sebastian, chatting about Mexican foods you wanted to try after the race. Then, something bizarre happened, and phones started to ping all around the room, between reporters, cameras and everyone else started checking their phones. It seemed like something out of a black mirror nightmare.

You reached for your phone but then remembered you left it to charge in your room.

“This question is for Y/N,” a reporter asked, reading something from his phone, “there’s a new article that just came out saying your mom passed away a couple of weeks ago, is that true?”

Your blood ran cold, and every sound felt like it was muted inside the room. Wide eyed, you searched for Amanda, who was somewhere on the opposite side of the room, and when you found her, she was pale. Then, there was a cacophony of voices and cameras and questions, that made you suddenly overwhelmed.

Swallowing, trying to reassess, you found Sebastian already standing, holding your shoulders. Looking around you noticed how the other three drivers had stood up, making some sort of shield around you, protecting you from the cameras and reporters swarming around. 

“We can go, ok? Come on,” Sebastian was saying when Amanda caught up to you, leaning beside Sebastian.

“We can leave, right now,” she said, holding your hand.

Still a little confused, you nodded and let them both guide you back to your room.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Sebastian hugged you, running his hands on your back for comfort.

“How- how did they find out?” You ask Amanda.

“An article came out, I’m not sure. Someone was probably digging into your life, but don’t worry, I put the team on it already.”

“How do- how we diffuse this? How do we proceed? We need to address this, right?” You started blabbering, trying to wrap your head around everything.

“That was very disrespectful of them to ask like that!” Sebastian exclaimed, making you two jolt.

“We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with. Do you want me to release a note asking for privacy?” Amanda suggested.

“Can I write something and then run it by you?” You asked, she only nodded.

After a moment, both Amanda and Seb left you alone as you typed a note on your phone. You rewrote and deleted a few times before settling on something heartfelt and respectful but also, calling out the invasion of privacy.

My mom passed away a few days ago after battling with cancer for the past few months.

She had requested of me to keep it a secret until after the season was over, so I could mourn her without the weight of racing over my shoulders. 

But obviously someone went digging and disrespected not only one of her last wishes but also disrespected my grief and my right to privacy. I love my mom but I’ll not be answering any more questions about her illness or death, please respect me and respect her memory.

All the love, Y/N

Nobody asked anything over the weekend, but again, it felt like everyone was tiptoeing around you. As soon as you first saw Nano the next day, he held you tight for almost a minute whispering his condolences, and it made you almost cry again. Lewis also spared you a hug, saying if you ever needed anything, to contact him.

You survived that weekend, and decided to go straight to Brazil for the next GP instead of going back to Monaco. In São Paulo you mostly slept your worries and fears away. You had promised yourself to try and focus on the season only, to make your dream come true, to fulfill your mom’s promise in some way.

With Ferrari’s bad strategy in Mexico, they had ruined Charles’ chance at the championship. Now your only competition was Max and the Red Bull rocketship.

You rewatched the race a couple of times as you usually did, to try and catch any mistakes you or your team may have made, to fix it for the next one. But also to try and notice any weaknesses of your rivals, if it was something you could use in your own favor.

You noticed right away in the FP1 that your car wasn’t adhering to the track, you were losing balance and needed more force than usual to keep yourself in place. By FP2, you managed to control your car better, but that caused your tyres to wear off way more quickly.

Quali was one of the shittiest you’ve ever done in your career, taking you out in Q2 for the first time that year, placing you for a start at P12.

“Listen, we’ll do better tomorrow, ok?” Jace told you as soon as you entered the garage, seeing Max still out with a shot at pole position.

“Give me a few minutes to unwind, please,” you asked, dropping your helmet, balaclava and gloves at a nearby table.

You went straight to your room, searching for your phone. Immediately calling Kimi, you waited for him to pick up.

“I watched it,” he said first and foremost.

“If I do bad in the race tomorrow, and Max does well, then I’m gonna lose the championship, Kimi,” saying that out loud made you shiver in horror, “FUCK!” You screamed, kicking a chair.

“First of all, even if you did bad tomorrow, you’d still have a chance to fight for the championship in Abu Dhabi. You know that,” Kimi warned you as if he was scolding a little kid, “second of all, I never taught you this loser mindset. You’ll have to find a way to work around the problems in your car tomorrow.”

“Shit, I’m so fucked! How? How could I even-”

“Remember when I first met you? Your kart was with almost this same problem, yeah? Remember you got P2? You went ahead and fixed it. That’s what I need you to do tomorrow, don’t focus on what you can’t do, only focus on what you can do.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“No trying. Do it.”

After spending the entire night crafting plan A, B, C and Z with you strategists and engineers, you barely got any sleep, but you forced yourself to rest. In the morning, you went to the track early to meet with your team again, to run your strategies one more time, when you had an idea. You’d still follow the plans you had carefully crafted with the team, but you decided to make a Plan Star, as you had called. Interlagos didn’t have any safety car in the last two years, so it was dangerous to fully count on one. But your plan star consisted in the case of a safety car in this one specific window of laps, you’d go to the pits for hards, counting on everyone else being on old softs or mediums at that specific point in the race. But for it to work, you had to be the first of the front field to go in.

As the lights went out and you accelerated, you got already three positions up, landing in P9, and luckily, the points zone. Jace was worried in your ears, talking about the car and the tyres management. With controlled calm and Kimi’s voice in your head, you managed a few more positions in the first 14 laps, landing P7. You lost a bit of time there, since Nando was P6 and everyone knew how tough it always is to overtake him. But you eventually managed to get the position. Unfortunately, it was the moment you had to go to your first pitstop. Due to the problems in your car wearing off your tyres, you would have to go for a two-stop, which ended up costing you three positions again. But you were patient and you were rewarded when the other cars had to pit, which gave you back the four places you had lost.

The race you went on and you barely moved up or down from your P5, but you managed to concentrate.

Jace, on the other hand was sounding more and more worried about your second pit stop, about the difficulty in get closer to P4, about the P6 trying to enter DRS zone behind you, with your tyres wearing off, with the-

“Jace, I love you but please shut the fuck up, I know what to do,” you were praying for a miracle when suddenly, there was a yellow flag, and the safety car went out during the perfect window of laps, “fuck, Jace, this is plan star.”

“Copy,” he paused, his voice sounding secure, “Box, box.”

You changed into hards, no one else went to the pits, and the race restarted after three more laps. The safety car had closed the gap between you and the P4, which made you overtake him easily.

Jace was still keeping quiet to help your concentration, he only interrupted to warn you about overheating your tyres, and your velocity per lap compared to the next position. You started overtaking like a madwoman as much as your tyres allowed.

“That’s P1, Lioness,” Jace told you.

“Copy that.” You said with your voice shaken.

As you managed your P1, you went back to be aware of your surroundings, seeing a Red Bull right behind you, trying to overtake but you managed to hold position.

When you took the checkered flag, you sighed with relief, Kimi was right.

“Congratulations, Y/N! That’s a brilliant, brilliant win!” Jace’s voice was sounding shaken too.

“You’re crying, Jace?” You laughed softly.

“It’s an honor to tell you that you, Y/N Y/L/N, are a Formula 1 world champion!” Jace shouts, and behind him you can hear more people screaming.

“What? Jace you’re fucking with me!”

“No, Lioness, you’re the 2022 champion of the world!”

“But- but how? There’s one race left? And Max was right behind me!”

“No, Verstappen DNFed during that one yellow flag. Behind you was Perez.”

You made the calculations quickly in your head. Max was P2 in the championship, but this DNF meant no points, and even if he managed to win the last race in Abu Dhabi, he wouldn’t be able to equal you in points. So-

“OH MY GOD, oh my god!” You screamed your lungs out, feeling the tears streaming down into your balaclava, “Fuck yes! I’m Formula 1 World Champion! Thank you, thank you so much guys! Jace, holy shit, I’m the champion!”

“You’re the champion!” Jace confirmed.

You felt joy in a way you hadn’t felt in a long, long time, as you stopped your car on the number one spot. Still a little dizzy from the thrill, you left the car, going straight to your team, heavily waiting for you. They all hugged you, hitting your helmet, saying congratulations and everything. You took a moment to hug Jace and Amanda, who had been of great support throughout the year.

After getting weighted and being congratulated by the other two on the podium, Perez and Hamilton, the latter hugging you tight as he took you off the floor, you drank water as you waited for the post race interview with Nico Rosberg.

You were giddy, barely holding yourself together with how happy you were feeling, how you wanted to hold the trophy, how grateful you were and more importantly, how you felt a great weight being lifted off your shoulders.

“Y/N, congratulations on becoming a World Champion! I have to say, as a girl dad, it is great to see you become the first woman ever to win this title. How do you feel? What do you want to say?” Nico offered, with a kind smile.

“To be honest, I can barely contain myself. It’s such an honor to be here and be the world champion. I look at the past and see my younger self who never thought would make it to Formula 1. It’s such a dream come true, after this year’s hardships, I’m glad to achieve the greatest dream of them all!” You said, kinda quickly, rambling as you tried to put into words all the emotions mixed with the happiness, “I’m sorry, I know I’m taking up all your time, I just want to dedicated this win, and this championship to three people who saved my life: Kimi, thank you for being the salvation of my career when we first met; And my mom, who’s not here anymore, thank you for being the light in my darkest days. And lastly, I want to thank myself for working my ass off and never giving up.”

You muttered a thank you as Nico only laughed at your rambling. Before you moved to the cooldown, you grabbed the mic back again.

“May I add one last thing?” You asked for Nico, who only nodded, pointing to the camera again, “This is to my father: I made it, you asshole.”

You wanted to send the middle finger too, but you knew you couldn’t because of the FIA’s guidelines, and you were already risking a penalty for cursing on live TV. In the cooldown room, you sat beside Lewis, watching a few highlights of the race on the screen. It showed a couple of your overtakes.

“Damn, you overtook like crazy,” Lewis muttered, seemingly amazed.

“I pulled a Lewis Hamilton in Interlagos last year,” you joked, and he laughed.

That podium felt like the culmination of everything you had worked for your whole life, felt like recovering your love for the sport for what it was, for the fast cars and the adrenaline. Being on that podium in Brazil as a World Champion shifted something inside you forever. During your anthem, you laughed, and when you got the trophy, you cried, pointing the trophy to the sunny sky with a silent prayer to your mom. You barely noticed, but you felt the champagne raining on you, and opened your arms to shower in it. Putting the trophy down, you splashed the other bottle, laughing and wetting everyone that was close to you, Lewis, Checo, Jace, who had gone up representing the team.

When the celebration ended, you stayed behind a little more, watching the crowd from the podium, and they started chanting. It took you a few seconds to realize they were chanting your name.

You raised your trophy at them, and they cheered even louder. Then you pointed it to the sky again.

“Look, ma, I made it” you whispered to yourself, feeling the tears streaming down your face.

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[lightsoutletsgo]

I’m such an angst girly omg how about lando’s phone not working and reader gets sad he’s not replying or answering her calls for a few days🤨

pairing: lando norris x reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, allusions to a panic attack, reader is v emotional, lando is an idiot ahhhh tysm for sending this in! It was fun to write but ofc I had to make it fluffy to end bc I didn't wanna make myself too sad happy reading! love mimi 🤍

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ — — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ — — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ — — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Long distance relationships were hard, you knew that before you’d even started dating Lando. You’d heard all of the stories before but like the many innocent others who had yet to experience their partner being on the other side of the world, you were determined that everything would be okay. 

Now, as you thought back to how naive you’d been, you scoffed, how could you have thought it would be so simple? If you weren’t battling with time zones, you were battling to find free time, and if you found free time, it was never quiet and peaceful and it never lasted more than a few minutes. You knew you should have been satisfied with those snatched moments you did get, but you missed your boyfriend. 

You missed him even more when he got another podium and you weren’t there to celebrate with him. You’d stayed up until stupid o’clock to watch the race live and you’d cheered and jumped as your boyfriend performed overtake after overtake to move up the grid to claim second place. You knew that once he had done his post-race interviews and meetings he would call you. You sighed as once more Lando’s contact picture flashed up with ‘facetime unavailable’. You’d scheduled this call the night before but he was only a few minutes late. You shook your head as you took a deep breath, he was probably just finishing up in meetings. Half an hour went by and your stomach twisted with worry as you still hadn’t heard from him. You checked your phone but there were no new notifications - not from him at least anyway. 

You curled up on the couch, noticing Lando’s hoodie still resting over the arm of the couch. Pulling it towards you, you nuzzled your face into it and inhaled, the smell of his cologne washing over you. You felt tears well up in your eyes. No matter how busy or tired he was, he had never once missed your call. You grew angry, not with Lando, never with Lando, but just at the situation. 

You huffed and grabbed your phone once more, deciding to doom scroll through instagram until Lando finally called. You noticed that a few people had posted new stories and so you pressed on the first one, absentmindedly tapping your screen until you paused, sitting up quickly as you realised the story you were looking at was Max Fewtrell’s. He’d posted a video in the club at a post-race party. You normally wouldn’t have batted an eyelid, but you could have sworn in the back corner of the dimly-lit club video was a figure that looked suspiciously like Lando. Going back to the start of his story and scrolling through again you realised it was Lando, wearing the black shirt you’d given him for his birthday the previous year. 

Turns out you could be mad at Lando. Something uncomfortable and hot flashed in your stomach as nausea hit you. Anger curled its way up your spine and through your chest, tightening around your lungs and making it hard to breathe. He was out at a club? And that’s why he hadn’t called you? You growled and glared at your screen, thumbs jabbing into the keyboard as you furiously typed a message to Max. He was online, you noted, as you hit ‘send’ and waited for him to read it. You barely had to wait five minutes before Max was apologising profusely and sending you a long paragraph about how he was sure Lando had texted you and would be letting him know straight away. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, throwing your phone down on the couch next to you with a ‘hmmph’. You sat in silence for a while, your emotions slowly welling up as tears gathered on your lash line. Was this how your relationship was going to end? Long nights alone while Lando partied it up on the other side of the world? Surrounded by scores of choices of pretty women and an endless supply of alcohol? You couldn’t help the way you sobbed as you grabbed his hoodie once more, desperately trying to catch your breath. You were crying so hard you almost didn’t hear the way your phone vibrated on the cushion. You gasped for air as you picked it up and turned it over, Max’s name flashing on the screen. You snatched your phone up and pressed the green button to accept, not even registering that it was a facetime call and he was going to see you crying.

You inhaled sharply as it was Lando’s worried face that appeared on the screen, he looked panicked and you could hear the music thumping in the background although slightly muffled. Despite the fluorescent lights he was standing under, he still looked good, “Baby? Oh my god…” He took in your tear stained cheeks and the way your eyes were red. He noted your sniffling noises and the way your bottom lip trembled, “Love I’m so so sorry!” You let out a laugh and rolled your eyes, trying to not let him see the next wave of tears that were threatening to fall, “Sure.” He sighed, “Honey, I promise you, I didn't mean it. I did text you! I didn’t realise it didn’t go through because I was in the post-race meeting!” “I wanted to celebrate your win with you!” Lando gently shushed you as he saw your chest heave, your breathing quickening once more, “Baby, baby, shh sh sh it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m right here.” He looked off screen for a moment to a person you assumed to be Max before the music got louder again and then quiet, as if Max had left Lando alone. You followed along with his breathing as he over exaggerated for you to copy.

“Love I promise you it was just an accident okay? I texted you to ask if you were ready to call but when there was no reply I assumed you’d fallen asleep so then I texted you to ask if you could be at the airport for 4am…” He winced, “I decided to fly home early and have a few days with you before the next race.” You melted back against the couch, hugging his hoodie to your chest as you tucked your knees up under your chin and rested your phone there, “4am?” You sniffled with a giggle, “Is that my hoodie?” He said, doing his best to distract you and you let out a proper giggle this time, “Lando! 4am is so early!” He laughed, relieved to see you feeling better, “I figured we could go for a super early breakfast and then go home and fall asleep together, in our bed, in our apartment which is my favourite place to be, with my love. Your bottom lip wobbled once more, “You promise?” He nodded to assure you, “I promise.” You inhaled deeply and let out an exhale with a sigh, “I can’t wait to see you,” your thumb gently rubbed across his cheek even through the screen. “I can’t wait to see you either love, can’t wait to be home”

[lcriedlastnight]

Accidentally saying I love you with Lando

tysm for your request anon, i appreciate it so much! p.s lando deserved that win today. max verstappen i am inside your walls.

tw: fem!reader, short and sweet, swears, lmk if there's anything you want me to add.

w/c: 1k

you and were a newer thing. you weren't new new, but new enough that you have not said those three little words to each other yet. you knew you loved lando since the third date, when even though he didn't like seafood, literally couldn't even stand being near the stuff, he took you to a sushi restaurant because you had never tried sushi and you wanted to give it a go. turns out you didn't like it either.

there had been a few times where you had almost let the words slip out your mouth but you had managed to bite your tongue at the last second. you would tell him when you were ready and when the time felt right.

lando was currently in spain for the spanish grand prix and this one was difficult. it was only the first race out of the three in the triple header and yet here you were, laying in yours and lando's shared bed, on facetime to him, close to tears. just seeing his face made you miss him more.

"come on honey, don't cry. don't do this to me. i don't want to watch you cry." lando frowns from his own hotel bed, the sheets too white compared to his usual ones. the bed too empty without you. you were usually really good with the distance but this was your first triple header with lando. there were double headers but even with those you made it to the last race so it was even less time. this time around you can't even go to one.

you sniffle as you try to stop your tears. you wipe your eyes with the sleeves of lando's jumper. "i know. i'm sorry. it's not your fault. i just miss you a lot tonight, lan." you express.

you can see lando nodding along with your words as you speak, you know it's not easy on him either. you sigh.

"okay. sorry. we can talk about something else now." you try your best to shake off the sadness. you can always cry when lando hangs up the phone.

"don't apologise, my sweet girl. i know it's hard, i'll try speak to you as much as i can. and i know i'll be busy but i'm back in monaco for the next three tuesdays." lando tried to find a positive in all of this. it was difficult.

you nod, with a hum taking his word into account. "not gonna let go of you for the full night on the tuesdays." you insist with such determination it makes lando's heart melt.

"is that a threat or a promise?" he asks, cheekily. that stupid smirk on his face as he tries his best to make you laugh. it works, not because it's funny but because his smirk always made you laugh.

"promise." you say through giggles. lando laughs along with you until he checks the time on the top of his phone. he sighs as it reads two am.

"m' gonna have to go now, honey. it's gettin' a little late." lando frowns like the words actually hurt him physically to say. you frown too but you understand so you don't put up any fight.

"g'night lan. speak to you tomorrow. i'm not working so call whenever you can i'll keep my day free for you." you bid him goodnight and send him a kiss through the phone screen. lando smiles at your cute gesture.

"night, honey. i'll call you whenever i can. i love you." it is quick but you catch it. lando blows you a kiss then ends the call. you didn't get a chance to say anything back. you don't think he even realises he said it. well he will now he's laying thinking about it. you think to yourself as you settle down on lando's side of the bed and fall asleep.

it's not until he returns home that it's spoken about. you are happy he loves you too and you are even happier that you didn't say it first. you were scared that if you said it first and lando didn't feel the same then he would break up with you. you let your mind carry you away sometimes.

you wait on the couch in your living room for lando to come in. you hear his key in the lock and the rolling of the wheels on his suitcase through the doorway. it makes you giddy but instead of leaping off the couch you stay where you are. lando notices you there and makes his way to you. he doesn't give you time to think before he is wrapping you up in a hug.

your head resting in the crook of his neck as he picks you up in the hug. you laugh at his strength. when your giggles die down thats when you hear him. he's mutter a quiet stream of "i love you"'s into your ear. this is when the tears spring to your eyes again. you pull his head out of your neck to really look at him.

"i love you too. you didn't let me say it back last time." you try to slip the joke in but lando doesn't laugh. no, he just springs forward, lips locking with yours in the sweetest kiss you've had yet from the brit. he pulls away put sends a quick few pecks to your lips, because he can never get enough of you.

you both spend the rest of the day repeating those words to each other like you have just found out what they mean. lando literally feels the need to shout them to everyone he see's in the airport as you wave him goodbye the next again.

while lando is on the flight with no internet he spends his free time typing the words 'i love you' out individually, over and over again then sending it to you just before he lands so that when he does actually land and you get the message. you will be reminded that you are all he thinks about even when you aren't with him.

[saltylemontears]

try again || ln4

summary: you and lando meet after many years with lots to talk about... warnings: none? i think? a/n: my first lando fic got over 650 notes (INSANE), so here's another, longer, as a thank you!

you weren't a big fan of racing. in fact, you had no clue what it was really about, until your brother brought you here.

the paddock is loud, way too loud for your liking, and you don't really understand. you see people wearing merch, carrying around signs and cutouts with big smiles on their faces, and it's actually kind of cute.

your brother gets into a passionate conversation about a championship with a fellow fan and decides to completely ignore your existence. how typical of him. your eyes wander to the big screen on your left.

names and pictures flash before your eyes, but none of them sound familiar. max verstappen, charlec leclerc, oscar piastri, lando norris.

lando norris.

lando norris?

lando norris, your highschool sweetheart? no, that can't be. surely, it's just a guy with the same name. and the same face. and the same fucking curls. just a coincidence.

your thoughts begin to wander, and suddenly you're in highschool again, anxiously waiting for lando in the park, on your bench. but lando's not in sight. not a single trace of him, he didn't even text you that he's busy like he usually does. you left the park two hours later, tears streaming down your face, betrayal stinging inside your chest.

and it starts stinging again. your first ever love, your first ever heartbreak.

you never thought you'd feel like this on a random sunday in miami, and it's overwhelming, it's all too much and you need to go.

your brother turns back to you. "hey, where are you going?"

it feels stupid to tell him about lando and whatever feelings you're feeling right now, so you just sit back down. "nothing, nothing,"

you manage to zone out for a while, only coming back to your senses when the lights go out, the race starts and your brother screams in excitement.

the crowd goes insane every time a car passes them, making the whole place even louder, and to be completely honest, it's actually kinda fun to watch those cars go ridiculously fast.

as the race comes to an end, the fans get louder, specifically the ones dressed in orange and your brother stands up, cheering passionately.

"and lando norris wins the miami grand prix, for the first time in formula on-"

jesus christ. you just witnessed your first love win a fucking formula one race with your own eyes.

you watch the screen, seeing lando on the podium, looking so happy and relieved, and all of a sudden, you see the same kid you loved those years ago and it's way too much to fucking handle. you get up again.

"i'm gonna go pee," you tell your brother, attempting to leave as quietly as possible, making your way through the crowd.

hell, you don't even know where the toilets are. you just need to get out of there real quick.

and you run, you run until you don't know where you are, but you're standing next to a bunch of guys in orange, breathing heavily.

you feel tears streaming down your cheeks and you hide your face, trying to find a bathroom. those orange guys definitely have a bathroom there, right?

and now, you're completely lost, messy and lando norris is in front of your eyes, chatting with someone. you need to get out.

you wait for a while until everyone turns around and run out of there as quickly as you can and-

something taps on your shoulder, and when you turn around, it's him. you're not sure whether you should cry or laugh.

your eyes meet and it's awkward as hell, just like back in highschool.

"didn't think i'd see you again," he says quietly after a minute of just staring. his voice is a little wobbly.

"i wish you didn't," you reply softly, turning back around to make your way back, but he stops you again. he stays quiet.

"congratulations," you say when he doesn't reply, and you mean it. no bad feelings, just like your mum always told you. "you did well,"

lando's hand on your shoulder tightens and he bites his lip, as if he was trying to find the right words.

"i'm sorry." he eventually whispers, voice breaking in the middle, and your heart fucking breaks at the sight, as angry as you are. "i-i'm gonna explain, alright? i'll tell you everything, please,"

you nod in agreement. today just can't get crazier.

he gently leads you somewhere, and you feel your survival instinct kick in, but it's lando. it's always been him.

he closes the door behind you when you sit on the couch in his driver's room. your hands shake.

"go on then," you begin, "explain,"

he takes a deep breath. "listen, i didn't really have a choice. i had to leave, you know? to move up the ladder, and i dropped out, because i wanted to chase this dream," he says, eyes wandering over your face. "and then - then it started being more than a dream, and i left everyone behind, not just you, and i'm so fucking sorry,"

you tense. "you could've at least texted me,"

"and what was i supposed to text you? that i'm leaving the country to become a racing driver and that i'm gonna be living in monaco and flying around the world and might never see you again?"

"anything. you don't even know how i felt after you ditched me," you reply, bitterness coating the sentence.

"i didn't want to ditch you,"

"but you did, lando, and it fucking hurt!" you raise your voice a little, but it's shaky and unstable. lando reaches for your hand.

"i'm sorry, i really am," he whispers, "i thought about you every day, how you're doing, because i loved you. i loved you so fucking much, i wanted you to just forget my dumb ass,"

"i didn't forget," you say, hand brushing against his. "i thought you didn't want me anymore,"

the room goes silent and you can hear each other's breathing.

"i still love you. i never really stopped," you blurt out, not even realizing what you've just said until he pulls you into a much needed hug, whispering a "me too," in your ear.

you pull away, looking into his eyes. he smiles, and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

"you think we could try again?"

[theemporium]

This looks super fun!!!! Super creative and exciting ❤️

Oscar + Max

Green-Eyed Mojito

“This is your work place, leave the boyfriend at home next time."

i didn't quite know how to write oscar and max together, so i just did max!! sorry!! but thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

21. "This is your work place, leave the boyfriend at home next time."

.

He was trying not to be bitter.

Emphasis on trying. 

However, Max thought he was pretty justified in his annoyance when he had spent the better part of the last six months working his way into a friendship with you, only for a new employee to swoop in and steal you away and undo all the hard work Max had put into his ‘how to get your race engineer to fall in love with you in twelve months’ plan.

He had been so excited for the race weekend. The sport was coming off the summer break and he hadn’t had the chance to properly hang around you in a while, and he missed you. It was as simple as that. 

But it was a Thursday and he made a point of getting to the paddock earlier than usual just so he could have an excuse to grab some coffee with you—only to enter the Red Bull motorhome and find you already sitting at one of the tables, laughing away with some guy he had never seen before.

So yeah, maybe Max was a bit fucking bitter. Not that he was showing it at all. 

“Why do you look like you want to murder someone?” GP voiced from behind him, something quite like amusement written on his face. “Don’t tell me I have to deal with Mad Max this weekend.”

“Shut up,” Max bit back, rolling his eyes as he tried to ignore the way his stomach twisted at the sound of your laugh from the other side of the room. 

“Jesus Christ,” the older man grumbled before patting Max on the back. “Don’t do anything stupid.” 

Max resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course he wasn’t going to do anything stupid. He wasn’t seventeen anymore with no control over his emotional responses. He was an adult. He was an adult who was in control of how he felt and he didn’t need anyone to remind him otherwise. 

At least, he was until you got up from your seat, seeming to spot Max and smile as you made your way over. 

“Hey, when did you get in?” 

You were being sweet and polite and any other day, Max would have been jumping over the fucking motorhome, just happy that you were talking to him. Today, it seemed like the bitter jealousy won. 

“This is your workplace, you know,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “Leave the boyfriend at home next time.” 

You blinked in surprise. “The what?” 

“Your boyfriend or whoever that guy was,” he tried to play it off, looking away from your face in hopes you wouldn’t notice the way his cheeks were burning red. “We are here to race and win. Not flirting.” 

“So it doesn’t count when you flirt with me?” 

Max’s head snapped up. “I—”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you laughed, shaking your head in amusement as you watched the boy grow flustered under your gaze. “He’s a guy I knew from university who has just joined the team. I was being polite.” 

“Oh,” was all he could stupidly reply with.

“Plus, mechanics aren’t my type,” you added. “I prefer drivers.” 

“Oh,” he repeated, this time with a smile on his lips. 

“It’s a shame though,” you mused, already turning to head towards the garage to start your day. “The driver I like is really slow at catching onto my feelings, despite winning every race.” 

Max could only gape as he watched you walk away, the bitter jealousy quickly replaced with hope and excitement at the date he had been planning in his head since the day he met you.

.

[vivwritesfics]

I have a Rooster idea!!

Bradley x Redbull!Engineer gf

Rooster comes to an F1 race for the first time and is like in aw of similar machinery and seeing his girl work. But maybe she’s Max’s engineer so the two dudes have a stand off (little brother x boyfriend) while Kelly and Reader laugh at their stupidity.

I feel like Rooster would be with an the Newey apprentice

Hope you find this interesting ❤️❤️

-🐮

Moustache man? Hawaiian shirt? I'm obsessed

"Come. To. The. Grand Prix. Bradley."

She stood behind where he sat on the couch, wrapping her arms around him. She kissed his cheek as she waited for her husband to reply.

"Baby," he began, his hands on his thighs as she slipped her hand beneath his shirt, feeling his chest.

"Please," she tried. "Please, we can drive up there together and get a hotel and..." she trailed off and licked a stripe up his cheek.

That seemed to do it. His hand settled over her own and he nodded his head. "Fine," he said. "I'll come to the Vegas Grand Prix."

"Great!" She called, kissed his cheek and stood up. "Max is so excited to meet you."

That was in summer break. That was several months ago. Bradley had forgotten about it while she travelled the world's, going from Grand Prix to Grand Prix, and he worked, flying the Super Hornet.

She was home between the Brazilian Grand Prix and the Las Vegas Grand Prix. Bradley had missed her terribly. The minute she came home he had her in his arms.

On the Wednesday before the Grand Prix, she was packing their things into the Bronco. "Baby," Bradley called as he watched her take their bags (his she had packed) out of the front door. "What're you doing?"

"We're going Vegas, Bradley," she reminded him with a grin.

It all came back to him. They were heading out to Nevada for the Grand Prix. "I can't wait for you to meet Max," she said as Bradley took the keys to the Bronco from her.

Before she could climb into the car, he grabbed her and pulled her close. "I can't wait to see you in action," he said before he kissed her, his moustache tickling her lip. She loved it (and he wasn't allowed to shave).

The five, nearly six, hour drive to the Las Vegas Grand Prix was filled with music. It was Bradley's music, music she had grown to love since the beginning of their relationship.

They stopped for food halfway through the journey. It was getting darker as they finally arrived at the Las Vegas Grand Prix. The two settled in their hotel room.

They splurged, ordering room service so that they could spend their time in their room, enjoying each other.

The next day, they headed to the track for the first practice. Bradley insisted on his usual attire (trying to look tough in front of the drivers, no doubt), but she put a jumper in her bag anyway.

"C'mon," she said, kissing his moustache and leading him out of the hotel room.

The track was incredibly lively when they arrived. She held his hand through the paddock, leading him to the Red Bull garage. "Max and Checo have both been asking to meet you for so long," she said.

But they didn't find Max or Checo first. The first person they found was actually Kelly. "Kells!" She called, familiarity in her voice.

Kelly smiled and waved when she saw her. But then she saw Bradley walking behind her. (He had already put his jumper on over his hawaiian shirt). "Is this..." she began, gesturing to him.

She nodded her head. "Only took me three years to get him to a Grand Prix," she said through a grin.

Bradley was polite as he said hello to Kelly. The three of them conversed for a little while (with Kelly promising to look after Bradley while she and Max worked).

There was no time for Max to meet Bradley before he had to jump into the car and she was on the pit wall. All Bradley knew about the sport was what his wife had told him and Kelly was happy to answer whatever question he had.

He loved watching her on the pit wall, so concentrated as she gave Max the information he needed.

After FP1, Max climbed out of the car. He took a hot minute in his drivers room while she did what she needed to do.

When Max came out of his drivers room, he saw his girlfriend talking to this huge, muscular, moustached man. He had never seen him before, didn't realise it was his engineers husband. "Hey," he said, kissing Kelly and looking up at Bradley. "Can I help you?" He asked.

The expression Max was wearing, he didn't look happy. He looked pissed. As soon as his engineer saw it, she ran over, linking her arm through Bradley's as she looked at her driver. "Max, I'd like you to meet my husband," she said.

The expression dropped from Max's face. "This is your husband?" He gestured up to Bradley, surprise written on his face.

Max didn't care how much bigger Bradley was, he'd go feral little brother modd if he had to. "How long have you been together?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest ad he stared up at Bradley, challenging him.

She went to answer, but Max shook his head at her.

Bradley could see what he was doing, could see it from a mile away. "Four wonderful years," he said and leaned down to kiss her.

But Max had another question. "What's her favourite colour?" He asked.

She couldn't help but laugh. "Max, its sweet you care, but cmon." She said

"Answer the question, Bradley, was it?"

She rolled her eyes. Max knew his name, she'd spoken about him enough. He was sinking lower. She looked behind him at Kelly, who rolled her eyes.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw, actually," Bradley responded with a sly grin. He answered Max's question about her favourite colour and kissed her. Bradley Bradshaw loved his wife, and he'd answer any questions any F1 driver sent his way to prove it.

[shoot-the-oneshot]

SOULMATE

Lando Norris x Reader F1 as romance tropes Masterlist

If anyone asked Lando always knew he was going to be an F1 driver. It was his dream, his destiny. Not the words imprinted on his arm.

“At least he’s an F1 driver” were the words that appeared on his 16th birthday. At first, he was ecstatic it was proof not only he had a soulmate but he achieved his dreams. It wasn’t until he’d been at McLaren for a few years the words almost haunted him seeing the other drivers meet theirs and he was still walking down the paddock alone, well almost.

“At least you’ll know immediately when you meet her, mine says “hello” that could be anyone!” His best friend Max spoke seeing the dark look in Landos eyes watching Alex and Lily.

Lando scoffed shaking it off “And she'll only care that I’m a driver not about me.” That was the problem the longer you took to meet the worse his thoughts got.

“You don’t know that, she might just think you’re stupid,” at his friends' words Lando turned to glare at him who held his hands in surrender, “You say stupid stuff sometimes”

“You’re not helping you know.” Anything else Lando wanted to say got cut off by a new visitor.

“How’s it going gents, wait Lando what’s with the murder face?” George spoke as he joined the two men, the black Mercedes race suit a stark contrast with the orange of Landos.

“Lando is pouting watching the happy couple over there.” Max's thumb jutting over his shoulder towards the Williams garage and the other British driver understood while Lando tried to look anywhere but the the man now looking at him with pity

George knew how he felt, he felt like half of himself before he met Carmen. “Carmen has a friend in town for the race Lewis and I were going to all go to dinner why don't you come along and get out of your head for a while”

“Appreciate the offer mate but I don't think being a fifth wheel sounds that fun.”

“Lewis had a last-minute meeting he can’t make it now, you should come so Y/n isn’t lonely” lies George spoke before he thought, Carmen would kill him for this.

“He would love to text him the time and place! See you later George.”

Max shoved his friend who was silently thinking of an excuse so he could go home and drown himself in his sorrows so he was ready to go for the race.

“I'm not going,” Lando spoke as soon as they were alone and started walking again towards McLaren hospitality and into his drivers' room

“No, you’re not going home to sulk this dinner will be good for you, get out and socialize.”

“I don't need to socialize I’m fine where I am” the driver huffed stuffing his clothes into his bag ignoring the look his friend was giving.

“You like George and food this seems like a win-win to me!” Max spoke trying to convince him “And maybe the friend is hot plus you need to get out of this funk it’s depressing now go home and shave that god-awful goate and make yourself presentable”

Ignoring in insult Lando swung his bag over his shoulder and caved.

“Fine I’ll go but only to get as drunk as I can on George's tab” and maybe his friends were right and an easy night out would soothe the ache in his chest.

“I am so glad you’re finally here I’ve only been begging to get you at a race for years!” Carmen exclaimed from her spot on your bed while you picked through your suitcase for something the wear.

“Well this might be my last chance to meet Lewis so I figured I'd take it.” You joked, flashing the 44 hat you brought for the race waving it like a flag as she rolled her eyes at your behavior.

“Better not wear that to the garage George might feel offended.” Carmen sang a smile on her face showing she didn’t mean it

“Listen I love George but just like with Toto Lewis is first in my heart George second.” You laughed dodging the pillow she flung at you.

“Alright come on George will be here soon we can wait downstairs.” Grabbing her bag you followed behind her making small talk as you both waited for the Mercedes to pull up

You fake gagged as George immediately jumped you to open your friends' door with a kiss. “Y/n always a pleasure good to see you again.” He said giving her a quick hug while opening the back door for her to get in the car. Returning the sentiment

“I wonder if they have any shawarma at the restaurant” your friend spoke you could hear the smile in her voice as she teased you obviously payback for your comment earlier.

“Oh wow, that joke still hasn’t gotten old.” You deadpanned making George look at the both of you in confusion not getting the inside joke of your soulmate's words.

Choosing to change the subject you felt excitement filling you the closer to your destination you got

“George I cannot thank you enough for setting this up it’s a dream come true I’ve been watching Lewis race for years!” You smiled while Carmen laughed

“She’s been geeking out over meeting Lewis” she spoke as her boyfriend’s shoulders stiffened.

“Well about that….Lewis had a meeting but don’t worry I already took care of it everything is fine and I promise I’ll introduce you tomorrow.” He rushed out white knuckling the steering wheel as you deflated, you were disappointed but it wasn’t his fault.

“Who’d you invite?” You asked before he could answer he was already parked, he turned in his seat looking back at you.

“We’ve been friends forever… I’m sure it will be fine” You would’ve had more confidence if he didn't pause and have such a nervous smile on his face

Lando who was leaned against the building next to the entrance he’s pretty sure he’s accidentally scared off a few couples from entering with his brooding. He glances up hearing a car pull up his back suddenly straightened as if he was struck by lightning when the back car door opened.

His feet moved faster than his brain as he rushed to hold a hand out helping you out of the car.

A soft smile slid across his face uncharacteristically for his recent mood, but before he could dwell on it he locked eyes with you.

Shyly taking the offered hand you got out of the car slightly shocked by the turn of events not having expected George's friend to behave like that.

“Hi, I’m Y/N nice to meet you.” You spoke looking into a pair of awestruck brown eyes. “Umm hello?”

“Lando!” George shouted when you looked around the group when the other Brit failed to respond in choice of staring

“Lando yeah I’m Lando hi.” The man rushed out then mentally kicked himself when you nodded with a smile that made his mind go black again as you walked ahead with Carmen.

“Mate, what was that?” George spoke staring at the fellow driver whose face was covered with his hands “I don't know….” He groaned.

When they entered the restaurant you and Carmen were already seated Lando ungracefully jumped to the empty seat in front of you as if someone else would take it. Huffing out a smirk when you looked up at the sudden noise.

“Y/n this is Lando he drives for McLaren we grew up karting together along with Alex,” at the mention of Alex, Lando recalled the scene from that morning at deflated back into his seat.

“Nice to meet you I haven’t met to many of the grid yet so I’m glad to have started small.” You smiled across the table, still slightly in a mood he just politely nodded back

“You went golfing with Lily a few months ago didn't you?” George asked hoping to spark Landos' interest which worked flawlessly as the man perked back up.

“You like golf? I played in a tournament with the PGA guys for Netflix”

Out of all the things he had to brag about the Netflix cup is what he chose, god, Max was right he does say stupid stuff sometimes.

“You must be pretty good.” If Lando wasn’t proud of his previous answer his next one wasn’t any better. “Oh yeah, practically just hole-in-ones.” He smiled ignoring the look from the other driver, who tried to subtly yank on his sleeve to get his attention away from the two women who were giggling at his poor attempts at impressing you.

“Anyone who’s played golf with you knows that a lie pull yourself together” George spoke his tone hushed “I’m trying I don't know what’s wrong.”

The two men straightened up as if their little conversation never happened and looked over the menus. Lando who was reading over every sentence trying to collect himself.

“What in the world what is chicken shar-sharwarma chicken shar warma.” Lando stutters out thinking it was surely a typo.

George slammed his menu down on the table and looked over at Lando with the most disappointment he had ever seen on his face.

“What did I just say to you!”

“I’m sorry it’s confusing!”

“Chicken shawarma Lando it is not hard if you can’t say it don't order it!” George barked any rebuttal Lando had gets cut off by Carmens' loud gasp. Making both men turn.

“Oh my god!”

“I know he's a muppet” George who thought she was baffled by his friend just waved it off and went to change the subject before you spoke

“At least he's an F1 driver” Lando froze at your words swearing he felt a tingle on his arm where those very words sat. “Oh my god!” Carmen squealed in excitement at what she was witnessing.

“Plus he's pretty.” You lightly spoke still in shock at finding your soulmate who whined “See why wasn’t that part on there.” Lando threw his hands in the air wishing that’s what he stared at for years.

“Wait you think I’m pretty?” He smirked snapping back into the personality he was known for. His question made a flush appear on your cheeks and Lando is sure he just fell in love harder at the sight.

“Can someone tell me what’s happening?” George demanded seeing his girlfriend tear up and you and Lando doing whatever it was you two were doing.

Lando still on a high leaned his arm on the table rolling his white button-down sleeve to his elbow revealing the words you spoke, not taking his eyes off you the entire time.

“That George, was me meeting my girl.”

The rest of the dinner passed by in a whirlwind, all you could remember was the feeling of meeting your soulmate you never thought you’d say this but you’re glad Lewis had a work obligation or you wouldn’t be walking down the paddock hand and hand with Lando a brand new McLaren hat on your head.

“I’m still upset you threw my hat across the room.” Your words did little to dim the smile on his face, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“I’m sorry love, would a first-place trophy make it better?” He boasted feeling as if he was on top of the world with you by his side.

“Oh big ambitions today, huh, feeling good?”

“With you here, babe I'll be unstoppable, and once I win you have to throw out that dreadful hat I’m the only British driver allowed in your heart now.” He declared, his hand sliding down your arm to grab yours. Pulling you to a stop outside his garage.

“There’s the happy couple!” A new voice shouted from the sea of papaya. Max ran out, making Lando roll his eyes and you smile. You spent the last two days glued to each other so you knew all about his best friend.

“Finally so nice to meet you thank you for showing up and fixing this muppet!”

“I wasn’t a muppet, you muppet!”

“It’s very nice to meet you as well Max.” You interrupted the two before they could get started on the back and forth. Landos attention switching as you spoke threw his arm over your shoulder, a smug expression on his face getting to show you off.

“I know what lover boys words were but what was yours?” Max ashed almost bouncing on his feet in excitement. Lando groans immediately holding his head in your neck.

Rubbing your hand through his curls knowing this was going to be rough on him, you showed Max your other arm. “Mate you wonder why I said she probably thought you were stupid!”

Lando felt your head nodding in agreement making his shoot up to pout at you. “I’m sorry but come on it wasn’t your best moment neither was spilling wine all over the table.”

“He spilled wine! Come tell me everything.” Max gasped, pulling you away from Lando lacing your arm with his leading you down the paddock. Leaving the driver to trail behind the two.

A year later.

A hand came into your view as the car door swung open revealing your fiancé.

“For old times sake huh?” you teased refusing to the time he nearly tripped over himself to get to your door the night you met. Lando fondly rolled his eyes. “You act like I don't always get the door for you.” He bowed exaggeratedly pulling the large glass door open leading to the restaurant.

“Like how you acted like you were a golf expert?” Lando's jaw drooped in mock offense before collecting himself pulling you closer to whisper in your ear.

“Got a hole-in-one with you though didn't I?” You giggled hitting his chest as you reached the table. Lando left to greet George while you sat with Carmen and caught up.

Eventually, the men joined you both again, you only noticed when your chair was dragged to your right until you were pressed against Landos side, who held a menu for you to share. You smiled at his determination to keep you close.

Squeezing your arm which you now knew as his ‘watch this’ motion he winked.

“I think I’ll have the chicken shaworma chicken shar warma!”

“Mate not again!” George groaned while Lando laughed in mirth. Looking around the restaurant hasn’t changed a bit since the last time you were here and yet your entire life had, you now travel with your best friend around the world, and most importantly, found your soulmate

Hey guys we are back! After a very long break i got inspired to write again and while this one isn’t the best the other parts of this series are some of my favorites I’ve written so go check them out here but i do hope you all liked it

<< Charles Leclerc as brothers best friend

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[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {3}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: You get a glimpse into the future with Charles and Lando as fathers. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fluff WC: 1.5k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four

You collapsed breathless on top of Charles and let your eyes fall shut as the heat inside the SUV soared. Steam fogged the windows and the sounds of your boyfriends panting filled the small space. 

Lando hummed as he sat back on his knees and watched his release, and Charles’, leak out from you. “Missed this pretty mess you make when we fill you up.”

“Putain, oui,” Charles agreed with a deeply satisfied chuckle. “Feels amazing.”

They were absolutely right, it did feel amazing - especially when it had been almost a week since you last had sex. It was almost a record, and not one you wanted to break anytime soon.

“We should head back,” you said despite wanting to stay exactly as you were. “We should also buy something so it actually looks like we went out.”

“Pretty sure your mum knows how much you hate shopping, and do you really want to risk being spotted?”

Lando made a fair point and you climbed off Charles so you could pull your panties back up and push your dress back down. Max’s plane would be tracked to the local airport so soon everyone would know where you were hiding. You would rather savour the peace and quiet before the paparazzi started to haunt you.

Once you got to Austin there would be no place to hide.

Sitting in the backyard of the pub, you watched the sun set over the countryside backdrop with bittersweet happiness. Luka was squealing with joy as Charles tossed him high into the air and Lando was sprawled on the grass with Lio and Mila clambering over him. It was like a little glimpse into the future you would have all too soon, but it still didn’t feel real. 

“What are you doing, hiding in the corner?” Max took a seat beside you on the bench and scanned the groups that had broken off from the crowd. You could smell the gin in his drink and took a sip of your lemonade as you longed for your usual drink. It didn’t help Lando had ordered you Sprite No Sugar, you weren’t even allowed that anymore.

“Just thinking.”

“I tried that once, but it didn’t work out well for me,” he joked, nudging you with his shoulder when he didn’t get a response. “What are you thinking about?”

You sighed and shifted to face him. “Were you scared you were going to mess up Penelope?”

“No,” he scoffed. 

“Right, because you are good at everything,” you nodded solemnly. “Stupid question.”

“No, it’s because I’m not her father, and I’m not trying to be her father because she already has one. So it is not the same.” Max looked to where Lando and Charles had moved onto dancing with the kids. It probably wasn’t quite dancing, but they were all hugging each other and gently swaying to the music. “You three are going to be fine. You’ve got the responsible parent, the fun one and the worrier.”

“I don’t really want to know who you think is who,” you chuckled, feeling a little better. But another thought had plagued you and there was only one person you could admit it to without fear of judgement. “This is going to sound terrible, but I wish she was a boy.”

Max’s brows shot up his face. “Why?”

You toyed with the condensation running down your glass, drawing little pictures as you spoke. “What if she wants to race? It’s in her blood but this industry is tough on girls, Max. I don’t want her going through the same bullshit I had to.”

“You’re worrying about something that is at least 15 years away, zusje. A lot can change in that time. Plus, she will have you, her fathers and a scary uncle who have been there to make sure she gets treated right.”

You looked across at the young man struggling to understand the horse-riding terms Flo was talking about. “Arthur’s not that scary.”

You laughed at the indignant sound Max made. “Okay, you’re right, you’re right. I don’t need to worry about that now. I just need to get through the rest of the season watching someone else race my car.”

“Checo’s contract is up next year, maybe Red Bull will beg you to come back?”

Your laughter caught the attention of your boyfriends and they smiled at the sound before making their way over. “Yeah, that ain’t happening, they can beg all they want - I would rather be seatless.”

Max turned serious. “They saw your data, you know, when you used my sim. It was the best time anyone has pulled from the car. It was impressive as hell.”

“Well if you want personal driving lessons I am happy to assist. I’ll even give you a family discount.”

Max snickered in amusement as the seats opposite the bench were taken. “Now that you are once again unemployed.”

“Don’t let her mother hear you say that,” Lando warned, only half joking. “She’s not unemployed.”

“Yeah,” you placed a hand on your stomach. “I have the best job in the world now as a human incubator. Me and Vick can be ladies of leisure together.”

“She prefers the term influencer,” Max corrected sarcastically.

“What’s the difference?” Charles asked.

“There isn’t any. Now will you come and dance?”

You accepted Lando’s hand and followed him to the outdoor lights that had been turned on.

“Nutty!” Mila called as she ambled towards you with grabby hands. 

“So close, sweetie,” you laughed as you dropped Lando’s hand to pick her up. “Aunty. Aunt-tee.”

“Nutty is kind of accurate,” Max teased as he walked past to where Kelly was talking with Vicky. He did pause for a second as he watched you spin around with Mila and blow a raspberry onto her neck making the toddler giggle. “Zusje, you’re gonna be fine.” 

You looked up over the top of her curls that were only a few shades lighter than Lando’s and found sincerity in your brother's eyes. “Thanks, Max.”

A pair of arms encircled you and Charles’ chin came to rest on your shoulder. “My dance partner has been stolen.”

Lando spun past with Penelope in his arms and you kissed Charles’ cheek. “Mila, look at Dodo, he thinks he’s a better dancer than us.”

She narrowed her eyes at her uncle dancing with the four year old and her brows furrowed before she squirmed to be put down. “Oops, I think someone is a little jealous,” Charles chuckled, pulling you into his arms while you watched with amusement as she made Lando pick her up too. “Should we save him?”

“Nah, he’ll need to learn how to deal with two females soon enough.” You placed your head on Charles’ shoulder and followed his lead, swaying gently to the music that probably demanded more energy.

“You seem happier,” he commented softly.

“It’s amazing what a little sex in a secluded forest can do for the soul.”

Charles laughed and kissed your forehead, his smile etched on your skin. “Chérie, what we did could hardly be called ‘little’ but even afterwards you still weren’t…I don’t know what the word is…you seem more like yourself.”

You smiled a little as he stumbled over the words. “I’m getting there.”

“I know you will.” He gave up the pretence of dancing and just held you as Lando extracted himself from the girls and they ran off to their mothers before making his way to join you. “We will make sure of it.”

Lando’s warm body pressed against your back and his arms wrapped around you to hold Charles’ hips. “So I was thinking of names…Tulip.”

“Um, no.”

“Hear me out, it’s kind if Dutch and it’s a flower which is pretty cool-”

“Non, mon cher, keep thinking.”

“Daisy?”

You shook your head and he groaned as he was shut down again. “Daphne?”

It was your turn to groan. “No more Bridgerton for you.”

“Clover?”

You paused and his grin widened. “I’m not opposed to that one, but keep brainstorming.”

“How about Juniper?”

“Daddy, where does my name come from?” you asked in a higher pitched voice as you wrinkled your nose.”Well mummy drank lots and lots of Gin one night and that is how you were made.”

“Oh, right,” Lando laughed awkwardly. “I forgot it’s in Gin.”

“It is a good thing we have time,” Charles hummed, holding you both tighter. “There’s no rush finding the perfect name.”

Lando conceded for the moment and fell silent, and you felt content to stay cocooned until your stomach rumbled louder than the music. Your warmth disappeared as they stepped away laughing. “Come on, love. Dinner should be ready.”

Click here for the next part.

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 8 - May the Odds be Ever in Your Favor

Guys, Max was never going to be her dad (that’s gonna be reserved for Christian lol). Everyone on the grid will be a brother figure, unless stated otherwise – like Fernando is leaning towards the wise grandpa rule and Lewis will be the cool dad (I have a funny story line to go with this idea). All that to say, Max and Kelly will look after her when she needs it most. I also switched the titles. On with the show, and don’t forget to comment if you want to be added to the tag list and or if it’s somehow not tagging you! Much love &lt;3  

Well, to Max’s dismay and according to google, you cannot adopt your 20 year old teammate that he had met hours earlier.. He had called Kelly early Thursday morning to whine. The more sensible part of his brain also knew that Christian wouldn’t let that happen either. And Kelly had to quickly remind him that he could still watch out for her. 

Max seemed to finally agree at the thought of being one of the protective adults in her life. He knew that you had your manager, who you seemed to trust. But, that didn’t help much when you spoke of how lonely you were. He was going to make it his mission to get you to move to Monaco, where he could keep an eye on you. 

“Maybe Christian could adopt her,” he muttered, staring angrily at his coffee. What that cup did to offend him, he didn’t know. But what he did know, was that he’d see you again later that night. Another festival for him to attend to. He only wished that Formula 1 went back to racing, and not putting on shows that had a strict attendance policy. 

At least you would be there. There was a change in the schedule so that you could be with him, Checo, Daniel, and Yuki on whatever thing they were being put on for the night. The buzzing of his phone ended his staring contest with his cup. 

It was a text from you. 

Little Racer : 

max, i need your help 

what are you wearing tonight??? 

i have an idea, and I think it’s stupid but i want to do it 

Big Racer : 

If it’s you, I don’t think it’ll be stupid. 

Probably what I always wear. Jeans and whatever Red Bull top they give me. 

Little Racer : 

that’s so grandpa core of you maxie 

and what is this all proper grammar for texting lollll 

you are not beating the allegations you millennial 

Max’s brows furrowed. He was not a grandpa or a millennial. He just liked to use the normal setting on his phone with proper capitalization and end marks. He would just have to ask Charles or Lando to see if they agreed with you. They wouldn’t though…would they? Your next message had him actually dying. 

Little Racer : 

do you think that Christian will be mad if i come dressed like elvis?

he said i could but i don’t know… 

Big Racer : 

You wouldn’t dare. 

Little Racer : 

oh boy ladies and gents, he doesn’t know 

*looks into the camera like an episode on the office* 

Big Racer : 

Did you seriously type all of that? 

Don’t answer. 

20 bucks says you won’t. 

The three little dots danced on his screen as he waited for you to respond. 

Little Racer : 

just you wait maxie, just you wait 

You didn’t text him anything after that. Max could only call Christian to understand what just happened. He picked up after three rings. 

“Hello, Max.” 

“Hi Christian. First off, happy birthday.” 

“Thank you son. But I know you didn’t just call me to wish me a happy birthday. You could have told me that later tonight.” In the background, it sounded like a coffee machine was running. Max hoped he didn’t wake him up. 

“Well, Y/n just texted me about wearing, uh.” Max didn’t want to say it out loud, because now it sounded stupid. 

“An Elvis costume? Max, the kid called me last night to ask. Said she didn’t want to ruin an image for us if she showed up like that. But I told her that it would be fantastic idea. Poor kid sounded scared.” 

Max let out a low hum. He didn’t like the sound of that. You were in no position to worry about such a thing. If anyone was to ruin Red Bull’s image, it would be him. He had no filter and Christian often had to tell him to reign in his thoughts. 

Max spoke, “I think I’m going to see about her moving to Monaco. She mentioned she has a flat in Nice, but that’s far away from Milton Keynes, and not close enough to anyone. Christian, she has no one.” 

It took a while for Christian to reply. Max could just imagine the older man running his hand along his forehead. It was hard to think of someone so young to be so alone. 

“Yeah, I think that would be best for her. I’ll make sure she can afford it. Hell, it could even be a property that we buy just for her to stay in when we have breaks.” 

Max listened and nodded his head along. Now it would only be to convince you to move. But suddenly, he remembered his previous conversation with you. He smacked his hand on his head. 

“Is everything alright Max?” the Brit on the phone questioned. 

“I just lost 20 bucks.” 

You however, had no idea that this conversation was happening. All you knew was that you had the go ahead from Christian to wear your beloved Elvis costume. Would you make a fool of yourself? Maybe. 

But who cares. It’s Vegas. To your chagrin, Vito had told you that there would be no walk out, but there would be dramatic paddock entrances. He still promised that you would get your song. That’s all that mattered to you. 

While you waited for the night to begin, you roamed the hotel. Because you were bored, you actually did a lot. 

You started off with breakfast. You were sad that they didn’t have the machines that made Texas-shaped waffles, because that was only in Texas, but the pancakes would do. And because you’re trainer would kill you for not eating well, you took it upon yourself to have a yogurt with some fruit as a side. 

After letting the food settle, you went to the gym for that daily grind. It had been a while since you had been able to work out, but you needed to get back on track. You would be racing tomorrow and you needed to be at your best. You lifted some weights first, starting with the smaller ones as warm ups before you got to the bigger ones. The stretch bands were very useful as you squatted the weights. 

After you were done, you hopped on the treadmill. By using the lower speeds, you were able to practice your runway walk, as if you would ever be a model. But the speeds increased and you found yourself in a full sprint by the end of the run. Five miles wasn’t bad, and you knew you could have gone farther, but you wanted to take a quick dip in the pool before getting ready. 

The water was a nice cool down for your overheated skin. Running was not your first choice of exercise. You’d rather run out of money, than run in real life. It didn’t make sense, but it did. The chlorine in the water was making your hair gross, so you decided to get out so that you could take a shower. 

Like the kid you were, you had your outfit laid out the night before, as if you were going on a fieldtrip. 

You allowed to take your time in the shower. It wasn’t every day that you made your F1 debut. That had your bones chilled. Your Formula 1 debut. You. Putting your head under the stream, you rinsed out the hair mask that you put on. There would be no nervousness. You were born for this. 

The thought of Max’s texts earlier made you giggle. You were glad that he was so welcoming. You would be much more nervous if you had met the infamous Mad Max. But this was more cat-dad Max. Kind Max. 

You only hope that you won’t screw things up. 

You turned on your playlist as you started to actually get ready. You ordered room service so that you didn’t have to go somewhere to eat. The food was amazing, well, as amazing as hotel food could get. You curled your hair as the remnants of your skin care routine dried. You mumbled the words to a song as you stuck a French fry in your mouth.

Once your moisturizer and various oils and toners dried, you started on your more pronounced makeup look. You knew you were going to be photographed throughout the night, and you needed to look good. Looking at the window, you noticed that the sun was setting. That meant that it was time for you to get dressed, and Vito would be there to pick you up shortly. 

Your outfit consisted of a sparkly white crop top and some white pants. A red scarf topped the outfit off. 

You would be arriving right behind Max and in front of Checo. You were excited to see the two men again. Moreso, you were excited to earn 20 bucks. With sunglasses on your nose, you were ready to hit the Sin City. 

Vito could hardly contain his laughter when you got in the car. 

You raised an eyebrow, “What?” 

He shook his head as to somehow rid himself of his laughter. “Nothing kid.” 

“Well Christian said I could wear it. I’ll blend right in. And besides, I’m almost immediately changing into my race suit.” 

He nodded his head at your reasoning. You had pulled off crazier things before, so he didn’t know why he was surprised. Maybe it was because he thought that you might not want to in F1. But, on the inside he was happy that you weren’t losing your child-like nature. He never wanted to see that seeming innocence to leave. He knew that you weren’t totally innocent, but he never wanted to see you hurt to an extent that you quit being happy. That was his favorite thing about you. You seemed to care about what others thought of you, but you knew how to make yourself happy. And if wearing an Elvis costume to the paddock would make you happy, then he would protect your decision. 

You could see the flashing lights even before you got out of the car. American paparazzi were on another level. You knew that Red Bull were one of the last ones to show up, and that freaked you out. Almost every single driver was already on the other side of gate. Your nerves settled when you saw Max get out, and you wanted to follow him. But, you realized that this was what you were waiting for. 

The familiar sounds of 33 Max Verstappen (the original one) could be heard through the car doors. Max’s face morphed into one of almost disgust. You let out a giant laugh and rolled down your window before you knew what you were doing. 

“Max, I love the music. Very Mad Max-esque.” 

He quickly flipped you a loving middle finger as he scanned his card to be let into the paddock. Multiple Elvis impersonators gathered around him for a picture. You hadn’t noticed, however, that the moment you rolled your window down, all of the cameras and photographers were now pointed at you. 

You buzzed with energy when you heard Life is a Highway start to fill the air. 

On the other side of the paddock, Max had stopped to talk to Lando, Oscar, Carlos, and Charles. He also was waiting for you so that you could walk with him to the Red Bull hospitality. He glanced over to see if you were out of the car at least. 

“Nice entrance mate,” Lando clapped him on the shoulder. He rolled his eyes. He’s sure that you roped Christian in to play the song. 

“Well what did they play for you?” 

Lando deflated and muttered, “Let’s go Lando.” Carlos and Charles, along with Max, laughed at his demise. 

Charles suddenly looked over Max’s shoulder. At that moment, Carlos spoke up. 

“I didn’t know Checo was a Cars fan.” The drums and guitar seemed to be turned up to the highest setting. What. An. Entrance. 

Max had a glimmer in his eyes, “He’s not.” 

And suddenly, there you were. In your Elvis costume. And you were loving it. You waved at all the people around you, quickly becoming a crowd favorite. 

From his right, Charles hums and Lando’s jaw is dropped. 

“That’s the new rookie, correct?” Suddenly, George was with them, along with Alex. 

Max only chuckled. “Yep.” He popped the “p.” 

Charles spoke up, “She’s nice. I met her at Arthur’s birthday party, but didn’t speak to her much.” 

“You all will love her. Trust me,” Max said, eyes widened as you got crowded with the other Elvises. You smile could outshine a thousand suns. 

Your eyes quickly met his and you gave him a giant wave. He beckoned you to come over. You flashed a nervous look before it melted away, replaced with bravery. If there was a time to meet some of the grid, you really hadn’t wanted to be dressed as Elvis. 

Your steps were quick and you made it over in no time. Now, most drivers are tall, but look short next to George, being the giraffe that he is. However, you were another thing. 

You’d definitely be taller than Yuki by a couple of inches. But you stood closer to five-foot-six (167.64 cm.), almost 5 inches shorter than Max, and four inches shorter than the rest. 

You gave a shy wave as you spoke, “Hi, I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.” You suddenly remembered something. You turned to Max and held out your hand. 

The boys’ eyes widened as Max fished out his wallet and placed a bill in your outstretched hand. 

“Pleasure doing business with you sir.” You mocked a salute. 

Lando tsk-ed, “What did our Max loose a bet on?” 

“He said I wouldn’t come dressed like this. Little did he know, I’ve had this in my closet for years.” Lando couldn’t help but laugh at your revelation, and neither could Carlos and Charles. 

“Yeah, kid, you should have told me that Christian already gave you the go ahead.” 

“And where’s the fun in that?” You had a shit-eating smirk on your face. Lando was the first one to speak up. 

“How old are you? Max over here keeps calling you kid.” 

“I’m twenty.” 

It was an amazing recreation of that one tik-tok trend. I’m twenty, insert looks of disgust, uhg. Your heart dropped at their reactions. 

It was Carlos who surprised you. He quickly patted your head, “Aw, just a baby.” 

You looked at him in awestruck. You leaned over to Max and all but whispered, “Max?” 

“Yes kid?” he said in full voice. 

“He’s older than you right?” 

“Yes.” 

“Can I do the thing?” Max looked Carlos up and down before smiling. 

“Go right ahead.” The smile that you had was wiped off your face. You squared your shoulders and held out your hand. Carlos took it with a confused look. You gave him a firm handshake. 

“Thank you Mr. Sainz.” You swear he did a full body cringe. He was about to say something, but Christian had waved the two of you over, yelling something about time to get ready. 

You flashed a smile at the small group, “It was nice meeting you!” You all but bounced away as Max calmly walked by your side. 

“Did she just?” Lando looked to Carlos, who was frozen in his spot. He looked like someone had just told him that his car had blown up on the way here. 

He looked at his hands. “Mr.,” he gulped, “Sainz?” 

Oscar finally piped up. “Well, you are old.” Carlos looked close to a breakdown. 

Charles put a hand on his shoulder as he watched you and Max walk on the ramp. Max’s face was now stone-cold, yet yours still radiated so much warmth. “Come on mate. We got to go.” 

As they walked away, Carlos questioned, “I’m not old, am I?’ Charles could not, would not, should not, give him an answer. 

Lando and Oscar just looked at each other and then back at the disappearing duos. Laughter filled the air as they also began to walk to their respective hospitalities.

As you and Max got closer to the garage, you got a little quieter. 

“I don’t think they liked me very much. I knew the costume would be a bad idea.” The look of dejection was all over your face. Max looked over at you and huffed. 

“Kid, they just don’t know you yet. They’re also stressed about this race. No driver liked to drive on a track that was built in a month.” 

“You’re right.” 

“Kid, I’m always right.” You hit his shoulder. 

Christian was quick to get you, Checo, and Max all together for a couple of pictures. Since it was Christian’s birthday, there was cake and everything for a small celebration. After, the three of you were told to get into the racing suits for the opening celebration. 

You were with Mitch while you did so. 

“You’re telling me. That Kurt Cobain is going to perform. And I’m going to miss it! With John Legend!” Your eyes were wide as you zipped the suit up. 

“For the last time kid, you can meet them after.” You pouted as you tied your shoes. 

“Fine. But let me say, this is very Hunger Games of them. So Americanesque.” Mitch just let you talk. 

After you were ready, minus the helmet and all that, Mitch led you to the glass box. You turned to look at her. 

“Promise me that you’re not going to be dragged away to your death. This is so Katniss Everdeen coded and I cannot lose you like she lost Cinna.” Mitch was going to tell you off for worrying too much, but she could see through your eyes that you were trying to actually tell her that you were scared of the whole thing. No wonder you were rambling, you were just nervous. 

Mitch brought you into a hug and squeezed. You practically melted as you squeezed her back. Over your shoulder, Max was looking at the whole ordeal. He’ll give you a hug right before they went up. He knew how scary this world was. 

Mitch was given the signal that everything was about to start. You climbed into the box and some official closed the door. 

Mitch looked up at you, “May the odds be ever in your favor.” Your jaw dropped in appall as you were slowly being lifted. So she did know the movie! 

Max put a comforting hand on your shoulder as your face was suddenly hit with a breeze. All around you, people were cheering and lights were flashing. You suddenly wished you had brought your sunglasses with you. 

Max scoffed as he raised his hand to wave. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“This isn’t racing. We’re standing here, being observed, like a bunch of clowns.” 

“At least this won’t last long. We’ll be in the car soon Max.” You were right. If it meant anything, he would be back in the car soon, in his element. 

A beep let you three know that the machine would be going down in the next few moments. When the machine jolted down, you quickly stood up straight, hand behind your back, and put three fingers to your mouth. Your lips kissed your fingertips before you held the three fingers up. 

It was still loud as you did it, but the crowd died down as they watched you and mirrored your display. You watched in awe at the raised hands. 

The three of you lost sight of the crowds as the box was now back where it started. Max looked at you in bewilderment. 

“What was that?” 

You let out a large gasp. “You’ve never seen the Hunger Games?” You must have been loud because someone else gasped as well. Looking over, you were met with the sight of blond hair and striking blue eyes. 

“Max, you’ve never seen the Hunger Games?” Logan stomped over. 

“Dude I know. So not girl boss of him.” Max looked at the two of you in confusion. Girl? Boss? 

You and Logan were quickly swept into a conversation about American tendencies while Max just stood in between the both of you, looking like he’s in the middle of a midlife crisis. You and Logan were only pulled away when you needed to get into the car for free practice. 

As you left, you turned around and faced Logan, giving him a look of faux sympathy. “May the odds be ever in your favor.” 

“At least you didn’t volunteer,” Logan laughed as he turned away. 

 Max was still in the middle of his midlife crisis when Christian came to tell everyone that it was time to head to the garage. 

You felt your heart rate picking up as you got closer to the garage. You took a deep breath and exhaled. 

It was show time. 

Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @digitalizeduniqueness @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko @assholeinatrenchcoat @kagatinkita @glitterquadricorn @zyonsay @tsukishimawhore @treehouse-mouse @ashy-kit @agent-curt-mega @julesbabey @lydialawrence @stopeatread @claudia5912 @nichmeddar @blueberry64857959

[stupidasfuck]

Godlike Platonic!Grid x Reader

Summary: The reader defends the drivers in front of the reporters and calls them out on their behaviour towards the drivers.

A/N: english is not my first language and to be honest I don‘t know how I feel about this one but I hope you still enjoy it. Have fun reading <3

It‘s a Sunday and Lando, Max, Daniel and I find ourself in a post race interview. Everything would be fine if the reporters wouldn‘t harass Lando with questions about a mistake that caused him to DNF with only two rounds left in the race.

He, as always, beats himself up about his mistake and the reporters only make it worse. My mood at the beginning of the press conference was pretty good, I finished P2.

But hearing the reporters ask more or less the same stupid questions over and over again and seeing that Landos mood is getting worse and worse, my mood is getting worse too and I have no issue with showing it, an eye roll here a head shake there.

I am known for my attitude and to make my PR managers life a living hell. I always say what I think without thinking of the consequences. Which is mostly the truth. That wouldn‘t be a problem if humans wouldn‘t be so damn sensitive. At least that is what I always tell myself.

And this exact behaviour got me in this situation.

“Y/N, you seem pretty annoyed in the last few minutes. What is going on?“ One of the reporters asks curiously.

“Whats going on?“ I ask rhetorically. “Let me tell you what is going on.“ I can already hear my PR manager yell at me. “You guys are harassing Lando with the same stupid questions for the better part of the last ten minutes. That is what the fuck is going on my nerves. What is also getting on my nerves is that you all are acting like you know everything better and can do everything better than we do, which is bullshit because if you would, you would be sitting in these cars and not us. You are also acting like the mistakes we make are the god damn end of the world, they aren‘t. If you want races without any mistakes then you would have to replace every human in Formula 1 with robots. Because that is what we are humans.“ I say sternly. “A lot of people like to forget that. I know when we drive these cars at 250 Kilometers per hour we seem Godlike and with Godlike I mean flawless, perfect and infallible-“

“And with ‘we‘ she means her.“ Daniel interrupts me to try to light up the mood. I can‘t help but smirk lightly at that before I continue.

“- but we are not. Like I said we are. just. humans. We make mistakes, we are‘t infallible or perfect. And that is good because like my mother always said perfect is boring. And that is true, lets be honest if every race would go perfectly, without any mistakes nobody would watch it due to the fact that it would be boring. You guys need to except that and need to realise that it‘s okay when we make mistakes and to stop rub it in our god damn faces and to stop beating us up because of that, for being human. Believe me we do that enough without your stupid questions and assumptions. Well at least I do. So yeah I am annoyed because you idiots think you are allowed to talk down on us just because you think you know it better.“

I look back at the reporters to see most of them looking like a dear caught in headlight’s.

“Ah thank you. I am sure a lot of us will take note of that and be more respectful in the future.“ The reporter from earlier sais. “You better fucking do.“ I scoff.

There are a few more questions wich are more respectful this time. Most of the reporters seem pretty uncomfortable and happy when the time is up and they can leave.

The four of us were walking towards our garages when Lando speaks up “Thank you by the way.“ He sais smiling at me. “Oh don‘t be so arrogant Lan. Who said I did that for you? That was purely for my well being.“ I say smirking. The others just laugh. “No but lets be real they need to stop with this shit otherwise I am not gonna be that nice next time.“ Daniel rises his eyebrows at me. “Hey you know it could have been way worse.“ I ad when I see Daniels look.

“True.“ Max agrees.

“Yeah but still tank you. But I was wondering, do you writhe your speeches yourself or do you have someone that does that for you?“

“Oh yeah very funny Lando haha. You are just jealous.“ I say in fake annoyance and cross my armes over my chest.

“Oh come on you know I am messing with you.“ He wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side.

“Yeah what ever you idiot. I need a shower and real alcohol. I expect to see every one of you at the club later.“ I say and point a finger at each of them with a stern look.

“Of course we are gonna be there how could we say no to an invitation like that.“ Danny jokes.

“I mean it. If I don‘t see you, I will drag your asses to the club myself.“ I call after them walking towards my driver room.

Thats it i hope you like it <3