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vroomvro0mferrari · 6 months ago

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LN4 | Win & Woo

Summary: Congratulating Lando after his first race win is a lot more difficult than you expected. When you finally get the chance to, he reacts differently than you anticipated.

Lando Norris x best friend!Reader

WC: 3.1K

Warnings: Cursing, making out

Masterlist

You’re watching from the garage as Lando drives around the track. You keep your eyes on the screen in front of you as you bite your nails. You don’t think you’ve ever been this nervous before. Lando has been leading the race for over twenty laps now, and it’s only a few more until he wins – his first win. Your heart is beating out of your chest as your eyes are locked on Max’s gap to Lando, not even paying attention to everything else that’s happening on track. You’re grinning widely, barely keeping in your excitement, when you see the number get larger at every glance. You’re trying to calm yourself down, to not get too excited too early because you know from earlier experiences that everything can go wrong in one split second, even on the last laps, but there’s no rain today.

You hear the commentators speaking in the background as you stare at the TV. Every time they say something about how this might be Lando’s first win, your heart skips a beat, mentally scolding them not to jinx this wonderful opportunity. Your focused gaze on the screen doesn’t falter as Lando starts his last lap. No matter what happens around you, your eyes are pointed that way. You’re fumbling with your fingers and nibbling on your lip anxiously as you watch Lando turn through the last corners, a smile slowly making its way on your face.

Next thing you know, you’re screaming, jumping and cheering as Lando crosses the checkered flag first. You’re smiling so big that your cheeks hurt as you hug Max and cheer with the team. You quickly congratulate the team before rushing to the parc fermé, hoping to congratulate Lando before he’s whisked away for the podium.

It’s busy – what else did you expect? You can barely work your way through the crowd, but you try anyway, pushing people aside to see your best friend. You can’t see him yet, but you hear the cheers of people as he appears on the big screens nearby. You watch how he’s congratulated by his competitors, as Fernando and Carlos come over to hug him and how Lando takes a sprint to the team awaiting him. He’s got a big smile on his face, a blissed-out look, when he jumps over the fence into the team who’s ready to catch him.

You’re close enough to see him on top of the crowd of orange, but he can’t see you. That doesn’t mean he’s not trying to, tough. The second he got out of the car, he was searching for you, and that’s what he does as soon as he’s got both his feet on the ground again. But before he can properly look around, Zak has found him, and then Andrea, and in no time he’s led away from where you’re standing. It’s useless for you to fight your way to the front when he’s already gone. So you change your course, quickly move back, and rush to the podium.

You search your way through the seemingly maze-like paddock as you hurry to make it to the podium in time. You can hear the drivers talk about their race over the speakers that are everywhere while you walk and you can hear Lando laughing in the background, but you don’t let it distract you; you’re on a mission.

When you get to the podium, you’re once again pushing through the crowd in search of a place in front, somewhere Lando can see you. Thankfully, Zak spots you and helps you out, pulling you to stand in front of him where Lando’ll be able to find you. Although Lando hasn’t told him, Zak has caught wind of his secret crush and knows that he’ll probably be searching for you in the crowd of orange.

You cheer and clap politely when Charles and Max walk to their respective podium steps, but you watch with tears in your eyes and pride welling up inside you when Lando runs onto the stage. You clap and cheer as loudly as you can, staring up at him on the highest step. You can see his eyes flitting around in search of you while he pumps his fist through the air. His face lights up with happiness as soon as he finally spots you in the crowd. He winks with a big grin, and your smile grows even more in response. You can’t feel anything but delight at his achievement – the goal he’d been trying to reach ever since he stepped foot into his first kart, his life-long dream. The tears of joy are rolling down your face; you’ve never been so proud.

He smiles at you from his spot that’s much too far away and sticks up his thumb as if he’s asking you if you’re okay. You laugh at the motion and nod your head. Of course, you’re okay, you’re more than okay, you’re elated.

You admire Lando in his essence. He looks so pretty up there, face turned towards the sun with his eyes closed, soaking in his victory. He wipes under his eyes, and while some might question whether it's sweat or tears he’s wiping away, you know it’s the latter.

You cheer when the anthem ends, and then again when he throws the trophy up, nearly gasping in shock when you see it flying through the air. It would be such a Lando thing to break his first P1 trophy, but he catches it in time and places it securely on the ground, although it’s not necessarily safe there either.

You can’t seem to take your eyes off him, not when Andrea’s handed his trophy, or when Max gets his. And when Charles receives his prize, your gaze is still focused on Lando. But then again, he’s staring at you too. Your eye contact is so intense that Lando doesn’t see the champagne coming. Absolutely shocked at the cold beverage that’s sprayed on his face. And even if he had seen it coming, he would’ve had no time to react to how fast Max and Charles were targeting him.

He’s wiping his face, this time not because of tears (or sweat), but to get the slightly burning alcohol out of his eyes. His hands are slippery when he shakes the big bottle of champagne before slamming it. He can’t see that well right now, but that doesn’t mean he can’t aim well. He grins when he hears you squeak at the cold fluid, even though he doesn’t see your reaction with his head turned away.

Your eyes follow Lando’s every move as he wipes the champagne from his face and takes a sip before spraying the bottle again. You can’t help but admire him like this. He looks so happy up there, smiling in joy while he and his colleagues cover each other in champagne. His beaming smile and damp hair, which is curling more than ever, make him look so beautiful, too. You know you shouldn’t be thinking like this – he’s your best friend, but you can’t help it when he looks so pretty up there.

After he has his picture taken, he makes eye contact with you again. He nods his face towards the side, eyebrows raised, silently asking you to meet up with him and you nod in response. Quickly leaving the podium and making your way to the motorhome, you feel Lando’s eyes pricking your back. He feels so lucky, so incredibly lucky, to have you here with him. He can’t believe that you chose to fly out here for him, that you care about him so much that you’d fly around the world just to watch him work. He’s overjoyed to have you here with him to celebrate his first Formula 1 win; to have his best friends here, although he secretly wishes you were more than that.

Lando finishes his duties as quickly as possible, rushing through all the polite talks with the team members, celebrities and competitors so he can go to you. He gets antsier every time someone stops him on his way to his driver’s room, and when Zak stops him to have an extensive talk about his amazing performance, and how much he deserved it, he’s had enough.

“Sorry, Zak, but can we do this later? Y/N’s waiting in my driver’s room and I really want to celebrate with her right now. I haven’t been able to talk to her yet, and-”

Zak grins while Lando rants. He knows there’s more than friendship between you and Lando, and Lando’s current behaviour is only proving him right.

“Of course, Lan. Enjoy the moment!” He says grinning, patting Lando on the back before pushing him in the right direction.

Lando thanks him before rushing off. Now that he’s finally out of the grasp of the needy people at the podium, he’s basically running through the paddock to get to you as quickly as possible. Completely overheating from the Miami sun, he unzips his race suit before entering the garage. He shakes hands with the team members he comes across, accepting their congratulations with a hasty smile, and hugs Oscar when he runs into him but doesn’t pay them much attention otherwise.

Lando doesn’t even take a moment to calm his mind before rushing into his driver’s room. You squeal in surprise when the door smashes into the wall, and Lando lifts you up into the air before you can catch a look at him. He squeezes you tightly to him as he twirls the both of you, your arms wrapped around his neck so you don’t fall.

You giggle at the feeling of his face pressed into your neck as he slowly settles you onto the floor. Not wanting to let go of Lando yet, you slide one hand over his back as the other combs through his hair while you stay close. The champagne covering his curls makes your hand sticky, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You can smell the sweet alcohol on him as he leans his head on your shoulder and sighs.

The big smile on your face refuses to fade as you whisper, “You won”. You can feel Lando’s cheeks pressing against your shoulder as a smile takes place on his face. Running a hand through his hair once more, you feel the happy tears rolling down your face again. You move your hands away from Lando so you can wipe your face as you sniffle. Lando’s head lifts as soon as he feels the weight of your hands disappear. Holding your waist and gazing into your eyes, he asks, “Are you crying?” with a teasing smile on his face.

You punch his shoulder and roll your eyes, “Shut up!”

You wipe under your eyes again before sighing, “I’m just so proud of you,” you say, arms hanging limply at your sides.

Lando stares at you intensely, his silly smile still on his face. His gaze is so penetrating that you nearly feel the need to look away. Lando is oblivious to how piercing his eye contact is, only focused on the thoughts that are racing through his mind. No person would cry at the achievements of their best friend, right? Max wouldn’t be crying right now, that’s for sure. Does that mean that maybe you see him as more than a friend? He certainly hopes so. Lando can feel the adrenaline running through his body as he looks at you, it’s pushing him to do things he’s not sure will work out well. He doesn’t want to ruin your friendship, but he wants to kiss you more.

Lando smiles at you, wiping your cheeks clean while he watches you. His hand rests on the side of your face while the other slides down to your hip, where he pulls you in close. He banishes all the thoughts from his head and kisses you with full conviction, with no hesitation (or thoughts) in his brain as he lets his body take over.

His lips move against yours aggressively while his hands grapple to pull you closer. He grips your hip tightly and uses it as leverage to press your body against his while his other hand moves from your cheek to the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. The feeling is heavenly, something he has wanted to feel for so long. It feels so right to kiss you, and to feel your body against his.

He’s completely lost in his passion and adoration for you as he kisses you. Meanwhile, you’re in shock. You didn’t expect Lando to kiss you, especially not as fervently as he did. Your surprise left you frozen, completely unmoving, apart from Lando’s hands pulling you nearer. The firmness of your body doesn’t mean the kiss is unwanted, though. In fact, you’re just about to pull Lando closer when he realises your unresponsiveness. His mind switches back on and races faster than his car a moment ago. Fuck – you don’t want this. You’re too polite to stop him, but you don’t want this. He just screwed everything up. Once it dawns on him, he pushes you away so fast you think you’ll have a whiplash.

Your hands are still up in the air where they were about to touch Lando’s chest as you stare at him in shock. He runs his hands across his face in frustration at his fuck-up as he avoids your gaze. He turns away from you, so you can only see his back, his very muscled back, as he sighs and mumbles to himself.

He turns around to face you. You can see the guilt in his eyes when he tries to explain, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that”

You stay quiet as you process Lando’s confession. Why is he apologising?

He sighs once more at your silence, running his hand over his face, again. He looks up at you through his lashes but doesn’t say anything. You’re about to respond when he continues, “No, fuck it. I’m not sorry. I love you.”

“Lando,” you tell him, breathlessly. You step closer to him and smooth your hands over his shoulders and towards his chest, “kiss me?”

You don’t have to say that twice. Lando grabs your waist as his lips meet yours in another rough kiss while your hands shoot up to hold his face. He pushes you up against the door as he nibbles on your lip. You moan softly at the feeling of Lando’s body against you, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You can taste the champagne on his tongue when you kiss him back just as passionately.

Your hands find their respective place in Lando’s hair again and you pull on the curls softly, earning a quiet groan in reward. The sound gets you hot, and it doesn’t help when Lando lets his hands wander over your body. He squeezes your ass gently before hoisting you up and you immediately wrap your legs around him in reflex.

Lando leaves you panting when he moves his kisses from your mouth to your jaw. He manages to pull another moan from you when he sucks on the skin behind your ear. Softly biting before soothingly licking the soft skin, most definitely leaving a mark behind. But that’s exactly his goal, his plan even, as he sucks love bites along your neck. And as much as you love the feeling and don’t want to think about anything but Lando in this moment, the thoughts of leaving the paddock later with the race winner, and the amount of paparazzi that’ll want a picture of him, penetrate your mind. So, you push Lando away from your skin.

“Lan,” you gasp, “we should stop.”

It takes a few seconds for Lando to get his mind back into the right headspace, a headspace in which not every thought is obsessed with you. He stares at you with hazy eyes, and you stare back. Dear God, it’s hard not to kiss him again when he looks like this, with his hair wet from the champagne and messy from your hands and his lips swollen and red from your heated kiss. You nearly let out another moan at the sight, but bite your lip to prevent it.

“Baby, don’t bite your lip if you don’t want me to kiss you,” Lando says hoarsely.

“Sorry.”

You’re both panting while you stare at each other. Neither of you is sure how to continue now. Lando admitted he loves you, should you say it back now? You do love him, but maybe you should wait until he says something. Does this mean you’re dating now? Is he your boyfriend, or do you have to ask first? It’s so unnecessarily confusing and complicated.

“I love you,” you finally admit.

Lando smiles at the confession, “You do, huh?” He says cockily.

You punch his shoulder again, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like… I don’t know. You’re all smug about it, but you said you loved me first, so I win.”

He laughs at your response, “Sure baby, you win.”

You smile at him, “So, does this mean you’re my boyfriend now?”

Lando has a big grin on his face now while he stares at you adoringly, “Yes, if you want me to be,” he says sweetly.

“I want you to be,” you murmur, fiddling with the strands of hair that are falling into his face.

“Good, because I want you to be my girlfriend,” he responds, pulling your chin up.

You smile a big grin at his admission.

“So, now that that’s settled, can I kiss my girlfriend?” Lando asks with a cheeky smile, to which you merely nod in response.

Lando pulls you closer by your chin, gently placing his lips back on yours. This time, you can feel him smile against your lips while he kisses you softly and lovingly. Nevertheless, the kiss is passionate and lustful. How could it be anything other than that when this was the best day of his life. He just won his first Formula 1 race and got the girl. There's absolutely nothing that could ruin this perfect day, he's sure of it.

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norris55s · 10 months ago

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a little party never killed nobody - lando norris

best friend(?) party girl reader x lando norris social media au

a/n: idk this is a brain dump of the feminine urge to party with lando in atrocious ways! this will include obscene amounts implied and photographed alcohol consumption so if ur uncomfy with that, i’d skip this one! fc is alix earle!

--------------------------------- Australia

landonorris

landonorris: straya points and the official inaugural party host, y/nusername

y/nusername

y/nusername: gday mate 🇦🇺🦘

danielricciardo: Never underestimating you again, the hangover on that plane was miserable

georgerussell63: I told you she’s a bloody party animal

y/nusername: that was pretty tame ngl

oscarpiastri: I was right, not joining was a better idea

y/nusername: u just hate fun

landonorris: feels like the season finally started

y/nusername: bring it on

daniel3.jpg

daniel3.jpg: Melbourne introduced me to the Y/N and Lando party world

--------------------------------- Japan

landonorris

landonorris: podiums make me so happy i start singing

y/nusername: i feel like you’re better at karaoke than at racing

landonorris: changing careers fr

yukitsunoda0511: Please don’t

y/nusername

y/nusername: jpop is awesome 🇯🇵

yukitsunoda0511: you're welcome

y/nusername: yuki san you are my idol

--------------------------------- Miami

y/nusername

y/nusername: in miami, bitch 🇺🇸

landonorris: not like my podium mattered or anything

y/nusername: baby girl i bought you your champagne bottles at the club as a congratulatory gift

maxfewtrell: She's right baby girl

landonorris

landonorris: good timessss lfg miami

oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri: Miami was extremely good to us!

y/nusername: when will u let me throw u a party pookie

oscarpiastri: I think the wise answer is never

y/nusername: but it’s FUN and you should celebrate your podiums!

georgerussell63: Do not trust her, you will have a week long hangover

y/nusername: it’s been a YEAR let it go 😭

--------------------------------- Monaco

y/nusername

y/nusername: my best friend is a formula 1 grand prix winner and i’ve never been drunker (or happier). i fucking love monaco 🇲🇨

landonorris: 🧡

carlossainz55: I think I’m still drunk 🥶

maxverstappen1: same

oscarpiastri: same

landonorris

landonorris: last weekend dump. it was a dream come true (and i’m still drunk too)

y/nusername: now that we got your win out of the way, charles_leclerc monaco win when

charles_leclerc: I'm trying

y/nusername has posted her stories

--------------------------------- Spain

lando.jpg

lando.jpg: great weekend, could get used to winning and partying with them

y/nusername: vamos!

carlossainz55: 😛

y/nusername

y/nusername: bailando (bye-lando?)💃🏽 🇪🇸

landonorris: u couldn't have picked a better photo

y/nusername: i was barely able to walk, no

carlossainz55: Looking good!

y/nusername: i'm inclined to believe you're saying you look good, to which i would agree

landonorris: what

y/nusername has added to her stories

--------------------------------- UK

landonorris

landonorris: home gp win. it doesn’t get better than this.

y/nusername: i love you so much winner!!!!!! (fuck u for that photo!!!!!)

lewishamilton: Huge congratuations!

y/nusername: good times innit 🇬🇧

georgerussell63: I will never, ever be bullied into going out with you ever again

y/nusername: ...as i said, good times innit

landonorris: how come george and fernando get that picture and i look like a kpop idol

y/nusername: cause ur my baby girl fr

landonorris: what

fernandoalonso: Too old for this craziness, but thanks again!

y/nusername: what do you mean you were the life of the party!!!

y/nusername has added to her stories

--------------------------------- Netherlands

y/nusername

y/nusername: you think i’m crazy? you should meet maxverstappen1 three jägerbombs in. 🇳🇱

maxverstappen1: Let me tell you that you on five jägerbombs was worse, but you wouldn't remember.

landonorris: she’s like that without the alcohol too

y/nusername: wow okay drag me!

y/nusername has added to her stories

--------------------------------- Mexico

y/nusername: viva el tequila y viva méxico 🇲🇽

sergioperez: Respect!

y/nusername: i promise i don't down tequila like water all the time, i can also appreciate the flavor!

landonorris: she's lying

patriciooward: Can I join you next time?

y/nusername: you can join me any time!

patriciooward: Tonight any good?

landonorris: once again what

patriciooward has added to his stories

--------------------------------- Brazil

y/nusername: eu te amo 🇧🇷

carlossainz55: 😍

patriciooward: 🔥

landonorris: i am once again asking... what?

--------------------------------- Las Vegas

y/nusername: i girlbossed too close to the sun this time but a drunk fake wedding doesn't represent us as people 🇺🇸

user65: you are absolutely kidding THEY DID NOT GET MARRIED

oscarpiastri: Oh Jesus Christ pick up the phone

carlossainz55: Thanks for the invite!

maxverstappen1: That's a way to make controversy

user24: fuck a las vegas win, lando finally bagged the girl

user43: lando to carlos and pato: fuck around and find out

landonorris has added to his stories

--------------------------------- Abu Dhabi

y/nusername: season is over but we’ll be back (no accidental weddings this time) 🇦🇪

landonorris: could you stop posting on ig and come say what you want to eat

user52: cant you see the man loves you why did you unmarry him and say you're not marrying him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

oscarpiastri: Don't make promises you cant keep

user 75: HELLO?

user 19: OSCAR?

#f1 #f1 au #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris au #lando norris smau #lando norris fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic

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ln4bub · 11 months ago

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Public sex with oscar, other people getting off on it without them knowing or like them getting caught or maybe even oscar cuming in yn secretly in front of everyone, just anything voyeur with oscar please 😭

People would never ever guess the things that you and Oscar got up to behind closed doors, and even sometimes open ones. Oscar always got off on the idea of people seeing what he does to you, showing them how well he knows your body. They never question it when his driver’s room door is conveniently left unlocked whilst you celebrate his race, or when he licks his fingers after his hand comes up from below the table at dinner.

Sure they notice how affectionate he is, kissing your cheek and wrapping his arms around you from behind. But they’ve never heard the filthy words he whispers to you about how easy it would be to lift up your little skirt and stuff you full. Or so you thought.

Lando is the first to notice, given the amount of time he spends around you both. He notices the way Oscar often has a hand on you, leaning in too often to whisper something discreetly in your ear. It was at dinner that the truth first came together. Oscar’s hand had been under the table for a while, him eating his dessert with just one hand. You however, hadn’t eaten an ounce of yours. When Lando looked over to you he noticed how flushed you were, how your eyelids fluttered and how your lips seemed more tempting you than the dessert.

His eyes trailed over you, following them down to where Oscar’s hand seemingly rested on your legs. From his vantage point he could see the way Oscar’s arm was flexing rhythmically, his hand moving ever so slightly. His eyes widened as he realised what his shy teammate was doing. He won’t lie and say the thought didn’t have him straining against his jeans slightly, especially when he spotted how calmly Oscar was watching him. Oscar winked at his teammate, a finger coming to his lips in a shh-ing motion. Lando swallowed dryly, nodding as he continued to glance all night, especially when Oscar licked his fingers clean.

Oscar had continued his public acts, often finding himself two fingers deep inside you as you struggled to stay quiet. But he loved the busy clubs, when the drivers booked a VIP booth and no one paid any attention to anything other than alcohol. After the end of his first season in Formula One he was itching to celebrate, aching to get you alone. Once Oscar realised this was unlikely to happen, he’s formed a plan. A plan that culminated in this moment, you on his lap in a club, whilst some other occupants of the grid watched on.

Lando again had been the first to notice, your cheeks flushing at Oscar’s words. “Imagine being stuffed full in this club, nobody would know how deep I am inside you baby.” He cooed in your ear, large hands sliding up and down your exposed legs. It took George and Fernando arriving with more shots for you to agree, firm in your decision that everyone else was preoccupied.

You wriggled in Oscar’s lap, finding a comfortable position that didn’t look too suspicious. You hovered over him as he slipped his member out of his jeans. He bit back a groan as you slid yourself down, your warm walls encasing him. “So fucking tight aren’t you?” He whispered in your ear, “Such a slut for me.” You whimper lightly, burying your head in his neck as you start a subtle grinding motion against him.

“That’s it, use me where anyone could see you. Do you like that idea?” Oscar coos, “That anyone here could look over and see how needy and desperate you are.” His hands squeeze your hips as he rolls you against him, groaning in your ear at the feeling if you wrapped around him. Oscar’s grateful for the booming music, grateful that no-one can hear you moaning for him. You hear Oscar chuckle lightly from your position, looking up at him in confusion. “Don’t stop sweetheart, but we have a small audience.” Oscar tells you, your heart stopping at his words.

He smirks at the way your walls clench around him before beckoning the audience member over. You hear someone sit next to the pair of you behind the table, Oscar greeting him with a nod. “Took you a while to notice this time mate.” Oscar says, your ears barely picking up the scoff of your new admirer.

“Keeping her hidden that’s why Oscar, you know I like to see her face. See what you do to her.” Lando’s voice causes a flush to overtake you, your hips grinding harder against Oscar. He groans once more, head tilting back at the feeling of you on top of him. “Oh she’s getting you good this time isn’t she?” Lando laughs, licking his lips as he watches you move.

“You have no idea,” Oscar smirks, “She’s an angel.” He tells his teammate. You whine into his neck as Oscar’s hand wraps in your hair. He tugs lightly, your face emerging from its hiding spot. “I want you to look at Lando baby, he likes your pretty little face.” Oscar mutters, stroking your cheek gently as he grinds his cock into you. Once you make eye contact with Lando your pace increases, joined now by Oscar’s thumb on your clit. Your moan of his name catches the attention of another driver, the warmth of his body emanating from behind you.

“Roped Lando into your little kink too have you?”

The American accent of Logan fills your ears, a soft smile spreading over your lips at the familiar audience member. “It’s hot isn’t it Lando? The way she’d do anything for him. You should see them behind closed doors, absolutely filthy.” Logan muses, hand resting on your hip as he helps you move over his best friend.

“You really should come watch Lando, she loves the extra pair of eyes.” Oscar tells his teammate, “You think she’s dirty now? Wait ‘til you see her on all fours with my dick in her mouth. It’s art.” You can’t help but moan at his words, squirming at the way the three men discuss you. It’s when Lando smiles at the thought of watching you both in private, nodding at Oscar’s proposal, that you tumble over the edge.

Your legs quake and your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. Your walls clench around Oscar as he bites his lip, stifling the loud moan threatening to spill out. You attempt to hide your face once more but Lando holds your head still, studying your face as you cum for his teammate. Oscar grinds into you deeper, the rhythmic clenching driving him to his own orgasm. He shoots his load inside you, whimpering in sensitivity as Logan continues to move your hips.

The pair of you come down with heavy breaths and flushed cheeks, before eventually leaving the club. Trailed by Logan and Lando for a night you’ll never forget.

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yourgothiccqueen · 7 months ago

Text

LN4 - “Formula One Sucks”

Summary: A grumpy reader meets her match.

Parings : Lando Norris x Female Reader

Warnings: none except swearing - fluff and silliness!

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

Masterlist

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“I think just don’t give a shit about it!”

“That’s because you’re a boring cow!”

Y/N sat crossed legged on the grass outside her tent, sun beating down on her face as she half heartedly sipped on a capri sun. Spending the night lying on the floor had left her aching and exhausted, and she feared spending the day watching ‘cars go round in circles’ would truly tip her over the edge.

“I just don’t get why I had to come.” Y/N groaned. “You know loads of other people.”

“None of whom were free at short notice on a Sunday!” Y/N’s friend Annie exclaimed.

Y/N groaned dramatically. She was already hating the fact that she was going to be spending the day trying to shelter from the heat whilst pushing her way through crowds of obsessive fans.

“It’s the three things I hate the most - cars, people and outside.”

“Oh shush, you had to come because you’re such a joyous, positive influence in my life who I knew would jump at the opportunity!” Annie said, sarcastically. “Now stop being so bloody miserable.”

Y/N scowled and playfully swatted Annie on the leg.

“You’re a bitch, you know that?”

“I know. Now drink your capri sun and cheer the fuck up.”

—————————————————————-

By 12pm Y/N had not, in fact, cheered the fuck up. She was truly finished with the world of formula one. So far she had queued for the loo, listened to some very loud music and spent an extortionate amount of money on a relatively small (and cold) hot dog.

Annie had long disappeared, claiming to have spotted some guy called ‘Fernando’ before rushing off into the crowd with a squeal, promising to meet Y/N at their seats later on.

It was beginning to get all too much for little Y/N L/N (😉) as she made her way throughout the bustle of people, eager to finally find someplace quiet to eat.

Eventually she found herself going through a set of doors (which definitely did not say staff only) as she found herself a quiet corner.

“Perfect.”

Before she could even take a bite, she heard a cough from behind her.

“Ermmm, what are you doing?”

Turning around, Y/N found herself faced with a relatively young man, wearing an orange cap with curls of brown peeking out the bottom. He looked strangely familiar, but Y/N couldn’t put her finger on it, and quite frankly she was too hangry to care.

“I’m eating my hot dog.”

The man smirked and let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

Y/N shrugged and said “ask stupid questions, get stupid answers” before taking a bite.

The man raised an eyebrow slightly, intrigued by the passive aggressive woman in front of him, who seemingly didn’t know who he was.

“Are you here for the race? Or do you work here?” He questioned.

“I’m here for the race. Are you?”

The curly haired man smirked slightly, letting out a little laugh.

“Yeah, I suppose you could say that.”

Y/N crammed another bite of hot dog into her mouth “Well, enjoy. It’s all a load of crap if you ask me though.”

A look of intrigue on his face, he asked “what makes you say that?”

“It’s just boring!” Y/N exclaimed. “Car goes zoom, someone wins, hurrah - so bloody what?! What’s the point?”

The man looked back at her, a look of mild bewilderment and irration written across his face.

“Well yeah, the car is one aspect of it, sure. But it’s the drivers that bring that passion, that excitement every week. They’re the ones who shake things up and keep things fresh. They’re the ones who make it worth watching.” The man let out a small cough. “I mean, that’s my opinion anyway.”

“Hmm. So which driver should I look out for today then?” Y/N queried.

The curly haired man shot her a questionable look.

“Don’t you know the names of any of the drivers?”

Y/N shrugged “I know Lewis Hamilton.”

He let out a laugh and another smirk again “well, that’s a start I suppose.”

Y/N was getting sick of this man smirking at her. But then again, it was a very nice smirk. And he did seem like a very nice man.

“So, what are you doing here if you hate formula one?” The man queried, arms folded against his chest.

“My friend’s a big fan, and her boyfriend who was was meant to be coming has got the flu.” Y/N sighed. “As much as I hate being here, I’d feel even shitter if she came on her own.”

The man let out a small smile “Well, that’s nice of you to do that for your friend.”

He suddenly glanced down at Y/N’s lips, and appeared to take a step closer.

Was this mysterious, attractive stranger about to kiss her?

His thumb reached up to her chin and she couldn’t help but look up into his eyes.

God he had beautiful eyes.

She felt his thumb touch her skin with the gentlest of touches, and her eyes fluttered shut.

He smelt *heavenly*. What aftershave was he wearing?

“Sorry, you had some ketchup on your chin.” He let out a soft giggle.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open, and she felt herself return to reality.

“Oh!”

The mystery man let out a giggle as his thumb brushed against her chin - “all gone.”

She laughed. “Thank you. It’s not everyday a stranger wipes ketchup off your face. Did we just get to second base?”

The man let out a laugh (it’s a very nice laugh).

“Sure. I’ll count it if you do.”

An urgent shout sounded from a door behind them.

“I’ve got to go. It was nice chatting to you though.” The man stated. “And to answer your question, look out for Lando Norris today. I’ve heard he’s one to watch!”

“Will do.” Y/N called, still slightly stunned from the interaction.

A few moments passed before a security clad gentlemen rounded the corner.

“Oi, you shouldn’t be back here! Get back out the front!”

“Relax - I’ve finished my hot dog, I’m going!”

———————————————————

The rest of the afternoon was a blur, as Y/N sat close to Annie, eyes fixated on a certain McLaren as he reached his final lap of the race.

“And Lando Norris has finished in P2!”

Cheers erupted from around Y/N and she found herself joining it. Turned out that ‘cars, and people and outside’ could be pretty exciting - who knew?!

“Fuck yeah!” Annie shouted, jumping up and down.

The McLaren driver removed his helmet before waving up to the crowds, a grin plastered on his face.

Y/N’s own grin left her face.

“Oh shit. That’s the guy I met earlier!”

“What?” Annie exclaimed. “You met Lando Norris?”

“Yes! Is he a big deal?” Y/N stated, panic rising.

Annie glanced around them, signalling to the cheering crowds - “Duh! What did you say to him?”

Y/N gulped - “I shoved a hot dog in my mouth and told him formula one is crap.”

Annie stared. No words left her mouth.

Y/N could feel her face turning red. “I then proceeded to ask him if he was going to the race.”

A quick, sharp laugh left Annie’s mouth, before she fell into floods of hysterics.

“Holy shit! What is wrong with you?!”

Y/N could feel herself cringing.

“Oh god, I don’t know! Lots apparently!”

She glanced down to Lando again, to find him smirking up at her. He winked, before turning back towards his team.

“Oh my god, I’m never going outside again.” Y/N cringed. “This is all your fault!”

“My fault?” Annie laughed. “I didn’t tell an F1 driver that his sport is crap!”

Before Y/N could respond, she felt a tap on her shoulder. A uniformed worker pressed a piece of paper into her hand.

“I’ve been asked to give this to you.” The woman smiled, before walking away.

“What is it?” Annie questioned, eyeing the paper.

Y/N unwrapped it, finding quickly scrawled words,

Hello Grumpy,

I hope the race was enough to change your mind about formula one. Here’s my number if you ever fancy a hot dog or a debate over ‘cars going zoom’.

LN xx

“What. The. Fuck.” Annie’s eyes widened.

Y/N grinned.

“Maybe I do like F1 after all!”

#lando norris #landonorris #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #lando Norris x reader #lando norris one shot #lando Norris oneshot #lando Norris imagine #lando Norris fanfic #FYP #lando Norris x female reader #f1 imagine #lando Norris x you #f1 smut #lando Norris fluff

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youkissedareaderinthedark · 1 year ago

Text

Coraline

Synopsis: Y/n’s childhood and history with her parents has always stayed a secret, and she likes it that way. Until a journalist reveals the truth, and everything seems to come crashing down at once.

young female driver reader x 2023 F1 grid

A/N: a few things for this fic: reader will be 20 years old, had driven for alpha tauri since the beginning of 2022, the 2022 is the same as the 2023 grid, and please look at the trigger warning below.

Trigger Warning: This fic contains abusive parents, talks of eating disorders, neglecting a kid, verbally abusing a kid, signs of depression, and a lot of hurtful comments in general. This fic is not meant to idolize or romanticize having abusive parents or depression. If anyone finds anything particularly disturbing with this fic, do not hesitate to let me know and I will fix it.

tagged: @treehouse-mouse

2023 was supposed to be a good season for Alpha Tauri. The cars looked good, your driver pairing was solid, and the hopes were high for your junior Red Bull team. You could only laugh at the naivety of it now.

Most of the season was exceptional; you and Yuki Tsunoda brought in points almost every weekend, your team was seventh in the constructors championship, and overall, you were having a great time traveling around the world.

This was your second year in Formula 1, and now that you weren’t a rookie anymore, you could have more fun now that you knew what you were doing.

Some people just don’t like others being happy, though.

With less than 10 races left, you walked into the paddock for the Monza Grand Prix Thursday afternoon feeling optimistic. This was the second race after the summer break, and Alpha Tauri was expected to do well in Italy.

Your press officer, Ally, greeted you in your garage, and after saying hello to Yuki, you followed her out of the garage and into the media pen for a press conference.

You walk in to see Lewis, Carlos, Lando, and Fernando and talked quietly with them as the press in front of you get settled. “Everybody ready? All right, first question please” One of the directors asks, as a journalists speaks up.

“Lewis, you’ve witnessed the infamous ‘Monza Curse’ multiple times in your career, do you think the theory is true and will it strike again this year?”

“Um, no” Lewis chuckles. “I don’t believe in the curse, but it would be nice to see someone new finish first today, and if a curse is what it’s going to take, then yeah, why not”

The five of you laugh, not noticing the second journalist beginning to speak. “Y/n, what do you have to say about the recent article published regarding your past with your family?”

You instantly stop laughing, hoping you misheard the man.

“Sorry?”

There’s no way

“The article? That was recently published concerning your past with your parents, what do you have to say about it?” The journalist stared at you curiously while your mind blanked for an answer.

You had no idea what article he was talking about, but if it concerned your past with your ‘family’, you knew it wasn’t anything that should be published.

Suddenly there’s movement in the midst of the media pen, and your press officer emerges from the crowd. “Y/n, come with me” She pauses, seeing one of the directors nearing out of the corner of her eye.

“It’s urgent, I need her” You’d take any excuse to get away from the current situation, so after exchanging a look with Lewis, you follow the woman into the paddock towards your garage.

Once you were both in the safety of your drivers room, you turned on her. “What article is he talking about? What’s going on?” You said, voice heavy with concern.

Ally hesitated, looking uncomfortable, before answering. “This morning, an article published a story talking about you and your parents, and the-um, harsh history you have with them” She hands you her phone, said article already open.

“I think it’s better if you read it yourself” The bold letters blink up at you, clear and sullen.

“F1 DRIVERS UNCOVERED: THE REAL REASON WE DON’T SEE Y/N L/N’S PARENTS”

Your heart falls to your stomach and your hands start to shake as your eyes skim over the words of the most invading and overwhelming article you’ve ever read in your life. Whoever wrote this, wrote it in hopes of exposing every secret of your past, and further tangles the truth of an already over-complicated background.

The real reason your parents are never around you is a reason you hate talking about.

You first realized it when you were around ten years old, the way your parents never looked happy around each other, and always tense around other parents. The way they never said ‘I love you’ or kissed each other goodbye. It confused you, as these were the things you always saw your friend’s parents do, but you were too young to understand at the time, so you mainly ignored it.

It wasn’t until one night when you were eleven that you heard an argument erupting from your kitchen, one about money and divorces and you. The shouting continued for ages, until you heard one statement, loud and clear.

“Think about this, she’s getting good in those karting competitions of hers, and according to other parents she could go really far in this thing and get money from sponsorships and mentors. So let’s just give it a little time, make sure she gets better and gets paid, and the money will go to us and eventually she’ll leave to Formula- whatever and we won’t have to worry about her”

You put your pillow over your head, turned around, and went to sleep sobbing that night.

From then on, there was no ‘I love you’s’ or kisses goodbye even to you, and eventually, no happiness in your house. The ‘other parents’ were right, the older you got, the farther you looked to go in racing. Just before you turned 13, the three of you moved to a city in England so you could pursue karting further, and that’s when it all got worse.

You competed in countless competitions, and every race you won, the more criticism you got from your mom and dad. The second you stepped off the 1st place podium, your parents were waiting to comment on your driving and the techniques you should’ve used to win.

They never let you focus on anything but karting, letting you go nowhere but the track and to school, and made sure you were always looking for ways to get better. They ruthlessly compared you to kids in other series that were performing better than you, and countered every compliment someone gave you with a complaint.

All of this seemed like a dream compared to the treatment you got when you lost. Whether it be second, or tenth, every race you didn’t come first in was a loss, and your parents simply didn’t accept this.

When you lost, they’d make you practice on track for twice as long, no matter the weather, and berated you the second you started to complain. They limited your diet after your losses, claiming you needed to be lighter if you wanted the kart to go faster.

Your mother and father gave you this relentless attention with anything regarding racing, but the moment the topic drifted, you were neglected. There were no family dinners or movie nights, if you wanted something, you were going to have to buy it with your own money, and if you wanted to go somewhere, you needed to walk or find a ride because they refused to drive you anywhere if it wasn’t for a race.

There was no other family to go to even when things go impossibly rougher; you had no other relatives in the UK, and you couldn’t exactly ask your friends if you could live with them.

So you endured these conditions, all the way through the F4 British Championship, F3 and F2. You turned 18 while you were in Formula 2, and the second you did, you took the little money you had, and rented an apartment in South England, where you’ve been living ever since.

Your parents constantly contacted you in whatever ways they could, but you very quickly made sure they didn’t know where you lived and were never given paddock passes again. No one knows any of this anyway; when people ask where your parents are or when they’d get to meet them, you just shrug and say, “they couldn’t make it”

You haven’t seen your parents in person since you were 17, and you’ve done everything in your power to keep it like that.

Though with a few thousand words and 4 hours, one nosy journalist has managed to unravel all your work and growth and release it into the world.

You’re broken out of your stunned silence when Ally puts a hand on your shoulder. “I’ve set up a meeting with Alpha Tauri and Red Bull’s PR managers so we could figure out what we should do next to keep the press off your back, okay? The meeting’s in fifteen meetings, so I’ll leave you for a while”

Ally takes her phone back and exits the room to leave you standing still in the middle of it, astonished and speechless.

The meeting goes as well as you expected it to go. You shared as much as the truth as you saw fit, and came up with a statement to post with the rest of the PR managers. You were confirmed to go back to the media pen to finish interviews an hour later, and while no one asked you about the article, you could tell it was the unanswered question they all wanted to raise.

You are able to avoid most of the press of the remaining of the Italian weekend, and stuck to answering race-related questions only, your safest and only option, Ally told you later. You finished the Grand Prix P10, and flew home still sullen.

You spent the two weeks in between Monza and Japan in your apartment, regretfully thinking about all those years you had to spend under your parent’s treatment, and trying to forget them with simulator work.

You arrive in Suzuka, quiet and unsmiling, and try to ignore the shouting of the press that greets you on your way into the paddock. Ally guides you away as two new voices greet you.

“Hey Y/n, how are you?” Lewis asks, pulling you into a side hug and stepping into place beside you.

“Are you okay? You seem off” Charles says concerned, meeting you in a handshake.

“I’m fine, my flight just got in late last night so I’m tired, that’s all” You half smiled in response, hoping it was believable enough.

“Sure?” Lewis presses father. “Yeah, I’m okay” You nod.

“Okay, well, we’re still going into the city after media today?” Lewis asks. “Of course, I’ll meet you guys at my hotel after” You assure as you near the Alpha Tauri garage.

“See you then, and try to sleep a bit, yes?” Charles says before the two men walk off together.

Your friendship with the two drivers started because of the Spanish and British Grand Prix’s, the two races that gave you your two highest race finishes, and ended with two of your closest friends. Spain was a great race for both you and Lewis, yourself in P4, him in P2, and after non-stop talking in the paddock, you flew back to the UK together, effectively starting the friendship existing today.

You’d been friendly with Charles previously, but after his P9 finish in Silverstone and your P5 finish, he realized in a conversation before an interview that you were undeniably good at cheering people up, and you guys have been close since.

You’ve talked with them since Monza, of course, but not about the article. They want to talk to you about it, you can tell, but Charles and Lewis aren’t the type of people to just come right out and ask if you’re feeling okay about your history with your abusive parents being exposed to the world.

They also don’t want to pressure you into talking about something you clearly don’t want to talk about, so if all they can do is help distract you from the media, they’re going to.

Your night out with the Mercedes and Ferrari drivers does distract you; Lewis leads you and Charles to different shops and restaurants all over Suzuka, talking and laughing the entire time. You take a few photos along the way, and you go back to your hotel still smiling.

You kept your good mood until qualifying on Saturday, and are brought back into the reality of racing when you only manage P11. It’s technically not bad of a result for your car, but P9 or P8 would’ve been better right now, because all you can think about is what your parents would’ve said if you finished P11.

They’re paying you millions of dollars to race for them and the best you can do is eleventh?

You think you deserve to be here?

They are hundreds of other drivers that would do so much better than you

You are nothing compared to the other drivers

You’re lucky if you keep you seat next season, I know I wouldn’t let a P11 driver on my team

You go quiet at the thought, and get through post-race media stoic. You leave with your trainer as soon as you can, avoiding Lewis and Charles’s eyes on your way out. You have a week before you have to leave for Qatar, and spend a countless amount of hours on your simulator, hoping this time it’ll make a difference.

You flew into Lusail not knowing what to expect other than hot weather, and unfortunately you were right. You felt the heat as soon as you got in your car for FP1 on Friday and was already dreading the rest of the weekend.

You qualify P11 for both the race and the sprint, and end up in P12 for the two. You felt terrible after Sunday’s race, both physically and mentally, and you’re already berating yourself for your performance by the time you get weighed.

Charles and Lewis are in your post-race press conference group, and you can see them exchange a look after every cold and detached answer you give. You only stop to talk to your friends for a few minutes afterwards before you excuse yourself to go cool down, and leave minutes later with the defense of needing rest.

You fly back to the UK with Lewis, and you’re glad the two of you are asleep for most of the trip so Lewis won’t ask you to talk about why you’ve been so quiet.

The 10 days you have until you fly out to Austin are spent mostly on your phone, looking at all the comments people have been making about you since the article came out, saying how you probably deserved the treatment that you got, and how Alpha Tauri needs a more “stable” driver if they want to advance in the championship.

You don’t do much except exercise and train on the sim in those days, finding neither the desire or energy to do anything else.

Even though everyone is happy to be in Texas that week, you can’t find the energy to truly smile once that weekend. Charles and Lewis are practically stuck to your side, and even though you can tell they’re dying to ask you to talk about it, they only ask a few times if you wanted to tell them something, and when you denied, and simply offered companionship through silence.

It’s another sprint race, and you only pull off P12 and 13 for qualifying and the shootout, and drop a place by the end of both races.

You feel more frustrated with yourself than ever; you don’t understand why you can’t work with the car like you once used to, and you can’t even figure out how to again. You were doing so well until that fucking article came out, and all the sudden you don’t know how to drive.

The worst part about it is that every race, more and more people are realizing how you’ve been under-performing, and how people are starting to question your ability to drive for the junior Red Bull team.

You aren’t stupid, you know how things work at Red Bull, so you know that if you don’t pick your pace up soon, you could end up without a seat for the 2024 season.

This thought alone starts to destroy you, and soon you can’t even deny how burnt out you are. You pick up on the forced habit of not eating much, and making yourself to do nothing but train and look for ways to be better.

You spend the days before Mexico with data analysts and strategists, looking for any and every way to go faster. You dedicate too much time looking at successful F2 drivers, hearing Liam Lawson’s name come up too much for comfort, thinking about how Dennis Hauger had been looking fast in F2.

It’s a terribly unhealthy time killer, one that makes you look sick and go quiet. Charles and Lewis aren’t the only ones exchanging concerned looks now; multiple other drivers on the grid, friends with you or not, notice the change in your behavior and quickly grow worried when they hear Yuki’s description of you.

The drivers aren’t stupid either, they all know about the article that was published in September, and most of them would be lying if they said they hadn’t looked at it in curiosity. They’d also be lying if they saw their eyes didn’t widen in concern or eyebrows didn’t furrow with worry when they read how terrible your parents treated you.

The grid saw how the comments got nastier and nastier under your lessening social media posts every day, and even asked your PR officer multiple times to make sure she was managing your accounts and making sure you didn’t see what people had to say about your background or yourself.

They saw how you got quieter every race, how you stopped hanging out with Yuki and Charles and Lewis, no matter how many times they offered. They saw the rumors of you and your 2024 seat, how apparently Helmut Marko was paying close attention to you and the clauses in your contract.

They asked a lot, if you wanted to talk or if they could help in any way. It was always the same response; a weary smile, a small shake of the head, the words,“No, I’m fine, just tired” and an excuse that you were needed in your garage or media pen.

So they try to help in more discreet ways; when Yuki is asked about your position on Alpha Tauri or your future with Red Bull, he calmly assures that you are working hard with the team, and is doing everything possible to understand the car.

Charles, Lewis, and a few other drivers make a routine of coming to your driver’s room, most of the time just to sit with you as you look at data, or talk with you when you’re feeling up to it.

Mexico goes somehow worse than Texas, and you finish with your lowest result in F1 yet, P15. You try to be as approachable as possible in post-race media, but your sullen face gives you away.

You leave with Ally and your trainer to catch your flight to Brazil mere hours after you passed the checkered flag, and spend most of your time in Sau Paulo alone in your hotel room, replaying every hurtful comment either your mother and father or fans have said about you, and debating whether or not it was true.

You walk into the Brazilian paddock Thursday morning more grateful than you thought possible that this was the third-to-last race of your season.

And according to over twenty media sources, your third-to last race of F1.

After a public statement made by Marko talking about how Red Bull was “considering your future with their junior team” every journalist in the F1 community has decided that it means this was your last season in F1.

And honestly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Whether you raced in 2024 or not, you just wanted to go home and avoid the press for three months.

It was another sprint weekend, and another terrible qualifying and shootout. You placed 15th in both sessions and kept your place in the sprint, and spent a quiet Saturday evening in your hotel.

You could feel almost every journalists eye’s turn to you as soon as you walked into the paddock on Sunday. You arrived early that afternoon to get some extra data-stuff done, only now realizing that it gave the growing group of reporters behind you more time to ask you questions.

“Y/n! Can you tell us about your future in F1?”

“Will you have a seat next year?

“Y/n, what does Helmut Marko think about your decrease in performance?”

“Does your past with your parents have anything to do with your recent race results?”

You try to keep your face emotionless as you make your way into the Alpha Tauri garage and to your drivers room. You prepare for the race with your personal trainer and look over the arranged strategies for Sau Paulo while you wait for the go-ahead to get in your car.

Due to all the crashed-out cars, you ended the race in P12 in front of Oscar Piastri and Daniel Ricciardo. Statistically speaking, it was one of your better 2023 races, but everyone knows if it wasn’t for all the DNF’s, you’d finish in the bottom five.

You know that everyone knows this because just before you walked into the media pen after your race debrief, you saw Christian Horner and Marko speaking to your team principle, and after Yuki’s P9 finish today, it didn’t take you even a second to understand who they were talking about with disappointed faces and multiple shakes of the head.

Sure, this could mean nothing. This could just be a conversation between the three people that control the top team and it’s junior team. But you also like to think you’re a bit smarter than that.

You walked deeper into the crowded area before the three could see you, and walked to the first open journalist you saw, in hopes of leaving early.

“Y/n, hi! Not too bad of a race for you today, I guess?” The man asked, pointing his microphone towards you

“Yeah, not too bad. The car felt pretty okay and there was a bit of pace, but not enough to overtake or anything, clearly” You reply.

“Can we expect more race pace from you in Las and Vegas and Abu Dhabi?”

“I mean, it’s a bit too early to tell, but we’ll hope and see what comes out out of the practices” The man nods before looking down at his notebook.

“And your seat for Alpha Tauri next year, we know you’re apart of the confirmed driver lineup for 2024 but Helmut Marko states that there are attainable clauses in your contract, what do you think about that?”

You’re caught off guard by the question, but right when you’re about to respond, the man continues.

“Surely, Alpha Tauri isn’t really considering keeping you for next season, are they?”

You’re standing in front of the man speechless now, your brain barely comprehending what’s being spoken.

“Because I know the last thing a team wants is an incapable driver that is too emotionally effected by her “traumatic” childhood to race,” the volume of his voice starts to increase, and other drivers are starting to focus on your one-sided conversation.

“I mean, c’mon, no one even believes that even happened to you, and if it did, your parents were probably right for doing it-”

Your hands are shaking, eyes are wide with shock, body suddenly freezing, and you don’t even think you’re breathing. All you can do is listen as this man goes on and on about how you’re a shitty driver and deserved how your parents treated you.

You’re only broken out of your trance when an arm clad in red wraps around your shoulders and pulls you through the paddock. You’re not even aware of the yelling from a certain Mercedes drivers gets quieter and quieter as you’re brought into your driver’s room.

You’re being sat on a couch, and suddenly Charles Leclerc’s face is right in front of you, hands on your shoulders and eyes filled with concerned. “Y/n? Y/n, look at me, please, Y/n-” Your eyes dart to him and in an instant, everything from the past five minutes comes rushing through your head, and you can’t stop the tears that start to fall down your face.

“Oh, Y/n” The Ferrari driver moves to comfort you, but stops as you begin to cover your face and move away.

“No, Y/n, it’s okay, please, let me help you, Y/n” Charles wraps his arms around you in a hug as your body begins to shake with uncontrollable sobs.

“I can’t- I can’t do this anymore, Charles” You say in between breaths.

“I have to quit or something, I can’t keep doing this Charles, I can’t” You let your head fall on his shoulder, as the man tries to calm you down.

Charles’ heart is breaking as he comforts his friend; he remembers loving his first few years in Formula 1, how everything was so new and exciting to him, he could never not want to race, not then and not now. But to hear one of his closest friends breakdown because of how much she hates being there, makes the man’s heart shatter.

The door abruptly opens, and for a moment, all you can hear is the low angry cursing of Lewis Hamilton, until he sees you and Charles, and his face immediately softens.

“Love, I’m so sorry. That guy is a complete jerk, don’t listen to him” The British man says as he takes a seat beside you and wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“I don’t know what to do anymore, I feel so stuck in this place where everyone is always talking about what happened and I don’t know how much longer I can go through it” You say, your voice breaking off with another sob.

Charles hushes you once more, exchanging a worried look with Lewis as you pull away from him again. “I’m sorry, I know I should be doing better and everything but I just can’t-” You say, voice shaky through the tears.

“Don’t for one second be sorry that you’re not competitive right now. Y/n, thousands of people are talking about the one thing that hurt you the most, and I understand why you feel this way, just please, love, for your own good, let us help you. I promise it will make you feel better” Lewis assures, grabbing your hand.

So for the first time, you do. For over an hour, you tell Charles and Lewis everything that happened when you were younger, and how the article has made you feel since then. They listen quietly, nodding once in a while to let you know they understand, and gave you a hug when you stopped talking.

“Do you feel better now?” Lewis asks.

“Yeah, not entirely, but better”

“Good, that’s all I wanted to hear,”

“Are you ready to go home now? There’s a plane waiting for us, if you want”

“Definitely. I need to go home” You say as Charles helps pack up all your things and Lewis makes sure there’s a car waiting for you two outside. As you’re all walking through the nearly-empty paddock, Charles turns to you.

“I have to go back to my garage, but please Y/n, if you ever need to talk, call me? I want to help you, I don’t want to see you like this again” The Monegasque brings you into a hug.

“I know, Charles, I will” You promise.

“Okay, I’ll see you before Vegas, yes? Feel better!” He calls as he moves backwards and further into the paddock.

“You promise?”

Lewis asks you hours later in the front of the airport in England, just about to get into separate cars.

“Yes, Lewis, I’ll call when I need” You say to the older man in a hug.

“Alright, text me when you’ve made it home and make sure you get some rest. Don’t be too hard on yourself either, you don’t give yourself enough credit for everything you do” You smile at him.

“Okay, I’ll see you before Vegas?”

“See you before Vegas!” He shouts from his already-closed car door.

When you do see the two next, they make sure you’ve made an appointment with a therapist and are setting up a meeting with your PR manager to put together a statement in regards to your well-being the past two months.

Charles and Lewis make sure the media inside the paddock is severely monitored and checked before being allowed near the drivers, and help you fall back into healthier habits.

These changes don’t happen overnight, and they don’t take affect overnight, but you do use the winter off season to make sure these changes are helpful and working.

The three month break is utilized to mentally and physically prepare yorself in time for your 2024 seat at Alpha Tauri that was re-confirmed after your P8 finishes in Las Vegas and Abu Dhabi.

The media still knows everything, and you haven’t completely forgotten your childhood, you never will, but dealing with it still gets easier.

#formula 1 #reader insert #driver reader #f1 grid x reader #formula 1 driver imagines #platonic f1 grid #f1 2023 grid x y/n #f1 imagine #female driver reader #comfort fic #angst with a happy ending #angst #please look at trigger warning before you read #lewis hamilton #charles lecrelc #platonic lewis hamilton #platonic charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton x reader

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doromoni · 5 months ago

Text

Gear Shift Failure | MV1, LN4

Ships : Lando Norris x presenter! Reader , Max Verstappen x presenter! Reader

Genre : Fluff , Angst

Sub tags : Mutual Pinning , She fell too early , He fell too late.

Summary : A new f1 presenter and journalist has entered the paddock and she brings chaos along the way. And as competition looms , will the current Champion be as fast outside the track?

Face claim : Sofia Wylie

A/N: Upon receiving many requests, here’s the continuation you lovely goblins 🤍. Also I am still continuing the Clash of Champions ~ i promise (finals end this week!!)

Part 1.

You fought the smile that was forming on your face, as you re-read your conversation with Lando from yesterday.

It has already been a week since your interview with Lando, yet you somehow found yourself in constant communication with the young British Driver. You weren’t going to deny that you enjoyed spending time and talking to him. And maybe going out on dates with Lando would do you good.

“ Ok, so I have a friend and she has a dilemma”

You suddenly broke the silence in the room. You were in your designated office inside Sky yet again, but this time you had the older drivers lazying around your space. Some with a book in hand — while the rest just played on their phones.

“What’s your dilemma muñequita? “ Fernando asked as he set down his phone, giving you his entire attention.

“Not me Nando! My friend” you exclaimed at the Spanish world champion who was lounging on your couch still munching on the chips he found in your stash.

“Mhm… yes your friend. Continue, sweetie~ “ Lewis urged you to speak, as he settled further into your couch right beside Fernando

“ Yes, let the girl speak! What is it Liefje” Nico added as he clutched your oversized plush into his arms, a half-opened book dangling in his hands.

“My friend likes this guy right? The two of them are very close and they share this connection that to others seems more than a friendship- and at one point my friend thought that he felt the same with her a—“

You once again didn’t finish your sentence when Nando interrupted you once more.

“Really? What happe-“The Aston Martin driver was invested

“LET THE GIRL SPEAK!”

“FERNANDO! “

“MATE, I SWEAR!”

They all collectively scolded the Spanish driver — prompting him to laugh and raise his hands in surrender

“Ok. So my friend thought that the guy that she liked was starting to like her back. But not a week later, the guy that she liked was rumored to have a girlfriend. And he started to avoid my friend…. This was 3 months ago by the way.” You finally finished your story, and now you look at their reactions

Fernando, Lewis, Nico, and Valterri had all fallen into thinking.

“So how long is the guy and the new girl going out? And how does your friend feel” the quiet Finnish driver gently asked you.

“Oh, officially for a few weeks, I guess? My friend felt hurt of course. But it gets less painful overtime… uh she said that to me”

“Oh. That’s good for your friend, liefjie! By the sound of it she slowly moving on” Nico uttered, a sense of comfort rushed through you

“How is your friend now, Is she feeling ok?” Lewis asked empathically

“ She’s great, and you’re right Nico. She slowly moving on.”

“So what’s the problem muñequita?”

“Well, another person had asked her out and she feels guilty because she doesn’t want to use him to get over the guy she likes” you explained to the 4 older drivers.

“WHO ASKED YOU OUT !? Young lady tell us this instance!” You didn’t expect Lewis’ outbursts — you expect Nando to react that way, but not Lewis!

“It’s not me!!” You tried to bluff once more

“Y/N, we know it’s you” Nico explained with a smile, while you pouted as they all chuckled.

“OK FINE! It’s me” You utter as you gave up the act.

“So I assume the guy you were talking about was Max, right?” Valtteri asked, finally speaking.

“I’m very obvious aren’t I?” You said defeated, as you stood up from your seat and wedged yourself beside Nico.

“Everyone with a pair of eyes knew something was between you and Max, “ Nando said as Valterri nodded in agreement.

“Young lady, you haven’t answered my question. Who asked you? Is it another driver?” Suddenly you felt like you were on the hot seat — as all their eyes focused on you with eyebrows raised. It felt like you were being questioned by your dad.

“Uhmm yes, it’s another driver… it’s Lando” You said as you picked on your nails. A shy smile graces your face.

“ He finally had the balls to ask huh?” Nando snickered

“What?? You also knew?!” You asked flabbergasted. You surveyed the room and saw all of them snickering amongst themselves.

“He did ask for my permission, sort of… it was just jumbled words that didn’t make sense then” Lewis explained as he visibly got less tense.

“Lando asked permission from you?? What are you, my dad?” You asked amused, come to think of it Lewis was sort of a father figure to you. Being that he always supported and guided you ever since the start of your journey in Formula 1

“Well, you sticking around me like a toddler in your first year here doesn’t help, sweetie.” Lewis could only laugh at the memories of him taking care of you. Memories like Lewis driving you around, giving you food, telling you to talk to others.

“And what are you guys? My uncles?” You asked the 3 drivers, who only shrugged and nodded.

“Well, should I say yes to Lando then?” You asked dropping all pretense and just laying it all out

“It wouldn’t hurt to try, Liefjie” Nico advised

“Yeah try something new, Dear. Max had his chance and he didn’t take it. So go have fun with Lando!” Fernando added, patting your hand.

You set your eyes on Valtteri — who only nodded his head with a smile.

“ You have our approval, and we’ll support your decision, sweetie! Do what will make you happy” Lewis said comfortingly

the.Y/N

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris , maxverstappen1, and 472,002 others

the.Y/N Apparently, @lewishamilton is my father?? I was only made notice now, ok I guess.

lewishamilton thank you for the flattering pictures , sweetie 🥲

the.Y/N oh no worries, pops! More to come I swear🤍

user1 Y/N please don’t dogshow the old man 😭

user2 HAHAHAHAAH I swear Y/N is a different breed

user3 Awwww! I always loved it when Lewis calls Y/N sweetie.

user4 The grid father and daughter pairing 🤍

landonorris Oh, You weren’t aware?

the.Y/N No, I was not :)) . I was made aware when someone asked for permission.

landonorris well glad to be of service

lewishamilton @landonorris get your act straight! I already approve

landonorris @lewishamilton will do my very best, sir. Thank you 🫡

the.Y/N I hate and love you both 😮‍💨

User1 Approve of what Sir Lewis?? Lando is approved for what??

mercedesamgf1 family photo with Roscoe when?

the.Y/N already have tons of it in the gallery 😛

You continued to scroll past your feed and Kelly’s post appeared …

kellypiquet

liked by maxvestappen1 and 638,073 others

kellypiquet Happiest when with you 💙

view all comments

maxverstappen1 💙

You knew that you shouldn’t feel jealousy or anger, but you couldn’t help but frown as you saw Max and Kelly acting all sweet. It still stung that you didn’t mean anything more to Max, all the memories you’ve made you’ve looked at rose-tinted, shattered.

So you strengthened your resolve and focused all your thoughts on your work. You then remembered that you had a date with Lando. You went back to your conversation a while ago

Then slowly, without noticing, a smile bloomed on your face at the thought of Lando Norris.

One date with Lando turned into two, two turned into three, then four and five.

the.Y/N

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, fernandoalo_oficial, and 629,920 others

the.Y/N So much fun , laughs , and food 🧡 10/10 would do again!

charles_leclerc you aren’t sneaky with that orange heart y/n

the.y/n 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

lewishamilton stay safe and go home early ~ i’m watching you two.

the.Y/N hehehe will do, promise

User1 Ms. Y/N are you seeing someone 🧐

the.Y/N I dunno~ maybeeee

User2 ok! Im invested. Who is it @the.Y/N?? Please spill

User2 this is so Lando Norris coded I swear.

User 6 I know!! Golf and karting? Could they be more obvious. Ughh I ship it🧡

User3 you look sooooooo pretty Y/N!! who ever’s dating , I hope they could fight . 😤

liked by landonorris

User3 LANDO NORRIS LIKED MY COMMENT??? HELLO?!

User4 Lando????!!

You were progressively forgetting your feelings for the Dutch Red Bull Driver . How can you not? When Lando Norris had been showering you with so much love and affection.

Then finally, Lando asked you to be his girlfriend. You said yes. You were ready to let someone else in your heart— and this time you were sure that there was someone to catch you when you fell.

your story close friends

viewed by landonorris , charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 , and 35 others

story replies

charles_leclerc I made this couple 💪 It was all MEEEE.

landonorris 🧡🤍 someones getting bolder ey?

maxverstappen1 haha i’ve been replaced as your bestfriend 😂

landonorris story

viewed by the.Y/N , charles_leclerc , carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 , and 5,628,926 others

the.Y/N And I was bold? Ok soft launch ~ Kudos mr. Norris! I won’t go down without a fight tho 🫡

charles_leclerc someones being braveee

carlossainz55 Landino! Are you and y/n ready to share to the world then?

The two of you kept everything on the low, yet you didn’t keep it a secret — only very select few knew. Lando and you wanted to enjoy what you two had to yourselves first. Everyone outside your circle thought that the two of you were just friends.

But that didn’t stop either of you from posting online.

Max saw your posts and the feeling of something clawing in his stomach resurfaced. He didn’t like it one bit. It has been 2 months ever since he found out that Lando held feelings for you. And it has been a month since the two of you properly spoke. And if he were honest to himself, Max missed your presence dearly.

Kelly didn’t have anything in common with him. And most of the time, he grew bored and he just wanted to crawl back to his sim and drive constantly.

Max missed talking about everything and nothing with you. He missed how you shared his interests and how the two of you explored every one of them. Max just missed… You.

The longer he stared at his phone screen, the deeper his anxiety rose. He didn’t like what he saw, not one bit. He needed to do something about it.

***

You are lounging in your Boyfriend’s condo, dressed in a hoodie that you stole from his dresser. Soft music played on the centralized sound system.

Lando was inside his streaming room live on Twitch, while you made your way into his kitchen and started to cook dinner for the two of you. Lando did love your cooking.

Then suddenly your phone rang and to your surprise it was Max calling. Without any further thought, you picked up the call.

“Hello, Y/N?” You heard Max’s voice on the line, the usual butterflies present in your stomach were now absent. You didn’t feel the bubbling sensation you used to feel when Max unexpectedly called.

Then suddenly, you heard Lando shout nonsense, probably at his best mate. A smile grazed your lips as you heard your boyfriend’s shout in the distance.

“Oh, hi Max! What’s up?” You asked curiously, balancing your phone on your shoulders as you took out the ingredients from the fridge.

“Where are you, right now? No one’s answering the front door” Max’s reply startled you. Why is he at your house all of a sudden?

“What? You’re in my house… uh why?” You asked, a tone of confusion present in your voice

“It’s Wednesday, Movie night remember” You were filled with even more perplexity for the Red Bull driver. The two of you haven’t talked one one-on-one for nearly a month, not even through chat. Movie nights with Max were long forgotten.

“Max…. We haven’t had movie night in 3 months.” You replied carefully.

“Uhm, we can start again?” You sensed the hopelessness in his voice.

“I’m sorry Max, I’m at Lando’s right now… and I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate it if we suddenly continued movie nights”

“You’re at Lando’s? Y/N its already la-”

“Max I think it’s best if we kept our distance… yeah?” You suddenly interjected, clearly stating your boundaries.

“What?! Why?” Max asked incredulously

“Max … you have a girlfriend! I don’t want to create any misunderstandings. And I don’t want Lando to have doubts … considering that I used to have feelings for you before. But we can still hang out … but in a group setting”

You didn’t mean to spill everything and tell Max of your past feelings for him, but you found yourself relieved of letting it out of your chest. Now you could truly say that you have moved on.

There was silence before Max had finally answered. “Oh… ok. I understand”

“Bye Max” At that you ended the call, leaving that part of your past behind.

The sound of the call ending echoed in Max’s head. The words you’ve said slowly dawned on him.

You liked him? Since when? Suddenly understanding and relief filled Max. He realized that he liked you more than just a sister. He didn’t look at you as just a friend. He suddenly understood the emotions that he was so afraid to explore before. What he felt for you was something so strong that it scared him. It wasn’t like what he felt when he was with Kelly, no. But with you, He felt vulnerable, He felt like everything was on the table because you understood him so well.

Then suddenly Max froze, as if cold water was dumped all over him. You said liked … past tensed. You didn’t like him anymore. Max was suddenly filled with dread, chest hurting as if tons of weight pressed on it.

He had his chances in making you his, and his alone. Max Verstappen maybe the fastest driver on the grid , but outside the track — he had failed to switch gears from making you from a friend to much much more. He had lost you and it was all his fault.

landonorris

liked by the.Y/N , mclaren, carlossainz55, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc , and 1,639,829 others

landonorris the world should see the forever view of my camera lens. Love you , stranger 🧡

tagged @the.Y/N

the.Y/N I love you more, stranger🧡

taglist: @spookystitchery @bibissparkles @newlifeforus @steamy-smokey @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @charizznorizz @evesfile @j-lesca @gr1mes-cc @ironmaiden1313

717 notes · View notes

kissedsuns · 4 months ago

Text

sweetheart of the circuit, oscar piastri.

cw: mentions of smut, driver!reader, kissing, swearing.

on one particularly scorching afternoon in bahrain, the drivers are lined up and ready for the season-opening bahrain grand prix, there’s a surprise twist. your contract signing wasn't widely announced, and very few know about you joining aston martin alongside fernando alonso.

as the drivers wait by their cars, you're getting suited up, preparing to join the others for the 2024 season photoshoot.

oscar piastri, feeling the pressure of an exciting season for him and mclaren, is unusually tense. he’s hoping this year will be their breakthrough.

when the photoshoot begins, oscar's attention is drawn to a girl in fireproof overalls next to aston martin. he raises an eyebrow, wondering if you're a new staff member. but as you step in the camera's view and join the other drivers, the surprise is evident.

jaws drop, and eyes almost fly out of their sockets. george russell exclaims, "holy shit, mate,"

only max verstappen remains unfazed, offering a small smile and nod. you grin, making your way over to alonso, who greets you with a knowing smile. you notice carlos giving alonso a nudge, but you remain focused on the camera in front.

"can we please shift our attention towards the cameras, boys?" one photographer says, breaking the silence. the drivers quickly adjust, and once the photoshoot is over, they relax and start chatting.

playful whistles come your way as george russell, lando norris, carlos sainz, alex albon, and others gesture for you to join them.

"hi, boys!" you greet with a cheerful smile.

"god, you're a pretty sight," lando blurts out, only to be playfully smacked by russell.

taken aback, you giggle, making the boys’ gazes soften. "aww, thank you!" you coo, ignoring the flirty undertone of lando's words.

lando's cheeks turn pink, and he mutters, "god, her voice is hot."

"it's nice to meet you all," you say, extending your hand to shake theirs with a soft smile.

"i'm oscar," he introduces himself, shaking your hand delicately.

"oh! oscar piastri, it's so good to finally see you in the flesh," you exclaim excitedly. before you can chat more, the other drivers grab your hand in turn.

"hey, i'm next—" russell says, shaking your hand as lando follows. they introduce themselves eagerly, their voices overlapping.

"aw, you're all so sweet," you say, your voice as sweet as honey. "i wish i could stay and chat longer, but alonso and i have to head back to the team. see ya, boys!" you flash a toothy smile, your dimples showing as you wave goodbye and exit the track with alonso at your side.

"god, she's gorgeous," russell murmurs as he watches you leave.

"and that voice," lando adds.

"you both are so desperate it's almost embarrassing," alex laughs, watching their reactions.

"can you really blame us?" russell mutters, his eyes following you as lando continues to gaze after you, his attention focused on your departing figure.

as the drivers disperse, you and alonso head back to the aston martin garage. the day is bustling with pre-race activities. back in the garage, alonso gives you a quick rundown of what to expect during the race weekend.

"the first race is always the hardest," alonso says. "but remember, you're here for a reason. trust in your abilities and the team."

his words boost your confidence, and you thank him before heading to a meeting. the room is filled with engineers, strategists, and your team managers. alonso occasionally leans over to explain some finer points, easing your nerves. the meeting ends with a clear strategy in place, and you feel more confident about the race ahead.

as the evening wears on, you find yourself wandering the paddock, the sun setting and casting a warm glow over the bahrain international circuit. a gentle breeze rustles through your hair, and you take a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm wash over you.

this is where you belong, and you're ready to make your mark in the world of f1.

meanwhile, in the paddock, the boys are still buzzing about your presence. george shakes his head with a grin. "i still can't believe we have a female driver on the grid. and she's with aston martin, no less!"

lando chuckles. "and she's pretty too. makes me wish we had her in mclaren."

oscar stays quiet, but a slight blush on his cheeks gives away his thoughts. carlos nudges him playfully. "hey, oscar, you alright? soundin' real quiet there, mate."

oscar tries to play it cool, shrugging. "i'm just, um, thinking about how quali is going to pan out."

"right," lando teases. "because you just get so red thinking about that, right, osc?"

you head back to the team garage, reviewing track layouts and discussing strategies with your engineer.

the nerves from earlier had settled into a quiet resolve. you adjusted your helmet, checked your gear one last time, and with a nod to your team, you headed towards your car.

the first practice session unfolded smoothly under the bahrain night sky. as the cars roared onto the track, you navigated the circuit with precision, gradually building up speed and familiarising yourself with the car.

the team radio crackled with feedback from your engineers, discussing minor tweaks to optimise your performance.

commentators noted the controlled approach from you, the new aston martin driver, highlighting your steady lap times and smooth handling.

"she's holding back a bit," remarked martin brundle, "but that's to be expected in the first practice session. there's definitely more to come from her."

spectators and fellow drivers alike watched closely, curious to see how you would fare against the competition. the commentary team didn't shy away from emphasising the significance of your presence, mentioning your historic debut and speculating on the impact you could have in qualifying and beyond.

"keep an eye on her," another commentator enthused. "she's got the determination. qualifying could be where she really shines, and i wouldn't want to be in the shoes of her rivals right now."

as the two practice sessions concluded, you return to the garage, the feedback from the team positive but focused on refining setups for qualifying.

after a quick debrief with the team, you exit the garage and make your way to the paddock. you pull out your phone and see a flurry of notifications flooding your feed. fan edits, posts, and fanpages highlight your performance and even comment on how you managed to avoid the dreaded helmet hair.

scrolling through the comments, you chuckle at some of the reactions. "wtf ???? how did she avoid the infamous helmet hair." one post reads, accompanied by a close-up photo of you with your helmet off, your hair surprisingly intact.

immersed in reading all the sweet, supportive comments on your feed, you hardly notice the figures in the background, watching intently as you smile at your phone while sitting on a nearby bench in the paddock.

"she's fucking fast," lando comments.

"yeah, absolutely," daniel agrees. "and in an aston martin? i shouldn’t say this, but it's not the quickest car out there, yet she's making it look like a redbull."

a sense of nervousness settles in some of the other drivers' stomachs as they observe you. george, carlos, and oscar, in particular, are struck by how composed you were during the sessions, causing them to feel a twinge of anxiety about your performance for the next day.

they quickly snap out of their daze when they see alonso emerge from the team hub, calling out your name.

he gives you a pat on the shoulder, complimenting your driving before hurrying off to where his car is parked.

you get up from the bench and head towards the paddock exit, deciding to follow suit.

as you reach your car, you're surprised to find oscar slowly making his way towards his own vehicle nearby.

he looks up, a faint smile forming as he spots you. "hey," he says warmly, his steps slowing as he approaches.

"hi, oscar," you reply, "nice car," you add, nodding towards his sleek machine. "must be fun to drive."

oscar chuckles softly. "thanks. it's not too bad," he admits, a hint of shyness in his voice. "but yours looks pretty cool too."

you beam at the compliment, genuinely pleased. "aw, thanks! i love how it handles," you say, stepping closer to your car and leaning against it casually. "i guess we both have good taste, hey?"

"yeah, i guess so," oscar agrees, his smile widening. he pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "you were really impressive out there today," he continues, his tone earnest. "the way you handled those corners—it was impressive."

"you weren’t too bad yourself," you say, looking down at your shoes as they scuff against the concrete.

oscar is taken aback. he never imagined you'd get shy, especially considering your bubbly and upbeat personality throughout the day.

"i should probably head off now," you say, breaking the moment reluctantly. "long day tomorrow."

"yeah, me too," oscar nods, his gaze lingering on you.

"thanks, oscar," you smile. "goodnight."

"goodnight." he echoes, watching as you turn and head inside your car. he stays rooted to the spot for a moment, a faint blush on his face, before he unlocks his car door and climbs in.

the next day rolls around fairly quickly. you manage to crawl out of your bed and get yourself mentally prepared for the very first qualifying session of the season.

as you make your way to the paddock, the atmosphere is charged with energy. the final practice session, while crucial for final adjustments, pales in comparison to the exhilaration and nerves that come with qualifying.

reporters are quick to swarm around you, eager to capture your thoughts on how prepared you feel for your first qualifying session of the season. cameras flash and microphones thrust towards you, but despite the heightened pressure, you maintain a composed attitude.

"over here!" you hear a voice squeak in your direction. "how do you feel about aston martin competing with the top teams? they haven't had to worry about your team much before, but with your speed in the previous practice sessions, should they be concerned now?"

"it's really exciting for us at aston martin. the top teams have always set the bar high, but we're focused on our own performance and doing our best. we want to keep pushing and see where that takes us." you respond, meeting the reporter's gaze with a grin.

fans call out to you for autographs and selfies. you take a few moments to interact with them, signing hats and taking pictures. with your kind and approachable attitude, it was easy enough to win over even more supporters.

as the crowd starts to thin out, you begin making your way toward the garage. the atmosphere is still buzzing with excitement, but you're in your own world, focusing on the task ahead.

as you round a corner, you nearly bump into lando, carlos, and george, who are standing together, chatting away.

"hey, look who it is," lando says with a playful grin. "the rising star of aston martin."

"yeah, i think we might have to start worrying about you," george adds, giving you a friendly wink.

"naww, c'mon now. i'm just excited to get out there." you reply cheerfully, your voice carrying that genuine sweetness that seems to disarm them.

"see ya, pretty thing," lando smirks, tugging george along with carlos trailing behind, who gives you a small nod.

with that, you flash them a polite smile and continue on your way, completely unaware of the flirtatious undertone of their comments.

you enter the garage, where the atmosphere is a hive of activity with engineers and mechanics bustling around. you see fernando alonso across the garage, and he waves you over.

"hey there," fernando greets you with a gentle smile. "how are you feeling?"

"a bit nervous, but mostly excited," you admit, trying to focus on the task ahead.

"good. that's normal. just remember what you're here to do." he advises, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

his words boost your confidence, and you thank him before heading over to your station.

you begin gearing up, slipping into your fireproof race suit with the aston martin logo embroidered on it. you pull on your balaclava, ensuring it's secure, and then reach for your helmet.

your engineer approaches, holding a tablet with the final adjustments and strategy for the session.

"okay, we’ve made some tweaks based on the data from the last practice. just a few minor adjustments to optimise your performance," he explains, showing you the details.

"got it," you nod, absorbing the information. you appreciate the team's effort and feel ready to give it your all.

with everything in place, you make your way to the car. the sleek machine glistens under the garage lights, ready to be unleashed on the track.

you slide into the cockpit, feeling the familiar, snug fit of the seat.

your heart pounds with anticipation as the team secures you in place, and you perform one final check on the car's systems.

"radio check," your engineer’s voice crackles through the headset.

"loud and clear," you respond.

"alright, let's do this. remember, smooth and steady. we're here to gather some data and refine our strategy. i don't want to see any risky moves."

you hum in agreement, gripping the steering wheel. the car rolls forward, and you exit the garage, ready to take on the track.

the world narrows down to the tarmac ahead, your focus razor-sharp as you accelerate down the pit lane.

you manage to get third in the placings, and as you drive back to the garage, your team is filling your ears with positive feedback. alonso gives you a pat on the back, and the team members cheer and clap, celebrating your impressive result.

"that was amazing," one of the engineers says. "you're going to crush it in qualifying."

"keep this momentum going," alonso adds. "you're showing everyone why you belong here."

you felt giddy with the way in which everyone was praising you, and hope that it would feel even more special if qualifying went well too.

as you lift your helmet and rip off your balaclava, you notice oscar piastri pass by the garage entrance. he spots you and gives a small wave.

you usually greet everyone with a bright, toothy smile, but with oscar, you can't help but feel a little different. your smile is softer, and you quickly look away, focusing on removing your gear.

oscar notices your change in demeanour and his little smile widens slightly before he continues on his way.

alonso catches your little interaction with oscar. his eyes narrow slightly, and he tries to bite back a smirk that's tugging on his lips.

as the sun dipped lower over the bahrain circuit, the atmosphere among the male drivers waiting for qualifying was charged with anticipation. a number of them had gathered in a cluster near the mclaren hospitality area, sipping on energy drinks.

"did you see her lap times in practice?" lando exclaims, breaking into the conversation as he leans against a nearby barrier. "she's quick. like, scary quick."

"yeah, aston martin's got themselves a serious contender," carlos chimed in, nodding thoughtfully.

max, usually more reserved in such gatherings, offers a slight smile. "impressive for a rookie," he remarks, his gaze drifting momentarily towards the aston martin garage with the others following his eyes.

daniel, always ready with a joke, pipes up, "so, which one of us is going to crash into her first?"

george chuckled, shaking his head. "i'm just hoping she doesn't make us all look bad out there."

oscar, quieter than the rest, listened intently before adding, "she seemed pretty focused earlier. doesn't look like the pressure's getting to her."

alex, who had been observing the conversation with a smirk, spoke up. "you guys sound like her fan club or something."

"nah, that's just lando and george." charles teases as the men laugh amongst themselves. except for lando and george who simply roll their eyes.

the aston martin team hub door swung open, and you step out, dressed in your team gear. the drivers turn their attention as you make your way through the bustling crowd.

lando and george exchange a look and simultaneously let out a whistle, prompting the others to join in by waving you over. aside from oscar and max, who both remained quiet, not wanting to cause a scene.

"hey! there she is," lando calls out with a grin, his voice carrying across the paddock.

you glance over, noticing their playful gestures, and offer them a friendly wave before continuing towards your team, a faint blush colouring your cheeks.

"hi, boys," you greet, "see you on track!"

as you walk past them, you playfully blow a kiss their way, your lips forming a perfect pout. the effect is instantaneous.

"whoa," daniel breathes, his eyes wide with admiration. "did she just?"

"yep," george nods, his cheeks flushing a light pink. "she totally did."

"man, she's something else," carlos says, his voice a mix of awe and excitement.

oscar, standing a bit to the side, can't help but smile shyly.

"alright, boys," lando claps his hands, trying to break them out of their trance, although he was just as flushed. "let's focus. we’ve got qualifying to get ready for."

the group slowly disperses as they head towards their respective garages.

you head towards the aston martin garage, your mind focused on the upcoming qualifying session. the team hub debriefing had been quick but thorough, and now it was time to put the plan into action.

you begin gearing up as you reach for your helmet, running your fingers over the smooth surface before placing it on your head. the visor snaps shut with a satisfying click, sealing you into your own world.

your engineer makes his way towards you, holding the tablet you've grown so familiar with.

"we've reviewed the data from the third practice session and noticed you're losing time in the high-speed corners. try to be a bit more aggressive on the throttle exiting the turns. it might feel risky, but the car can handle it. trust the grip." he explains, showing you the details on the tablet.

you lean in, studying the screen. "that makes sense. i noticed it as well, 'm just hesitating a little, i think."

one of the mechanics gives you a thumbs up. "you’ve got this. we believe in you."

"thanks, guys," you reply, feeling a surge of confidence.

settling into the cockpit of your car, you feel the warm embrace of the seat. the seatbelts are pulled over your body to ensure your security.

"radio check," your race engineer says.

"loud and clear," you respond.

"alright, everything looks good from our end," he confirms.

you take a deep breath when the garage crew gives you the signal, prompting you to start the engine. the sound reverberates through the garage as you guide it out onto the pit lane, joining the queue of cars waiting to start qualifying.

ahead, the traffic begins to move. your race engineer gives you one final instruction.

"let's get a solid lap in early," he advises. "make us proud."

as you approach the pit exit, adrenaline pulses through your veins. with a surge of acceleration, you unleash the full power of the aston martin down the straight, diving into the first corner with precision and determination.

the qualifying session is underway, and every second counts.

"david, that was a close one! our rookie driver narrowly avoided a collision with leclerc in that hairpin," martin brundle's voice crackles excitedly through the broadcast.

"you're right, martin! that was, um, a risky move from both drivers," ted kravitz chimes in, his tone laced with both concern and admiration.

meanwhile, your engineer's voice cut through the intensity. "good job avoiding that. watch out for the next corner."

"copy," you reply swiftly, your adrenaline pumping as you focused on maintaining control and speed.

back in the commentary box, david kroft adds, "and did you catch that radio message, martin? 'nearly kissed leclerc's ass back there!' that's some raw emotion coming through."

he pauses, gathering his thoughts before continuing, "she's usually so composed. this weekend, though, she's shown incredible positivity, handling the pressure remarkably well."

"she's also managed to charm the entire grid," martin adds with a twinge of amusement to his voice. "drivers seem to be following her around the paddock like moths to a flame. quite a feat for a rookie, wouldn't you say?"

ted nodded in agreement, "indeed, martin. her presence is definitely shaking things up."

the qualifying session eventually reaches its climax. as the clock ticks down, you push your aston martin to its limits, aiming for that pole position.

your laps are almost flawless, pushing the boundaries while maintaining control.

in the commentary box, david kroft's voice rises with excitement, "and look at that! she's setting blistering lap times. the rookie is really on a charge here."

ted kravits chimes in, "absolutely, david. she's flying through sector two!"

on the pit wall, your engineer's voice crackles over the radio, "stay focused. you're setting the pace. keep it up."

"and she crosses the line!" martin brundle exclaims. "that was a stunning lap from her. can she secure pole position? let's see the timing screens."

the atmosphere is electric as the timing screens update. moments pass, tension mounting, until finally, the results flash up on the screen.

"and there it is!" david kroft announces. "pole position for the beloved rookie and aston martin! what a sensational performance."

ted kravits adds, "incredible scenes here in bahrain. she has truly shown her class today. this sets her up perfectly for tomorrow's race."

the car glides to a stop precisely in front of the '1st place' board, followed by leclerc's ferrari in second and verstappen's redbull in third.

as you leap out of the seat, both hands raised high in victory, the crowd erupts into cheers.

you swiftly remove your helmet, revealing a triumphant smile beneath the layers of gear.

amidst the cameras clicking and voices clamouring for attention, you make your way over to the team. you exchange quick embraces and high-fives with your mechanics and engineers, each member of the team soaking up that pole position victory.

with a nod of gratitude to your team, you make your way towards the media pen.

"wow! what a qualifying session!" one of the sky sports reporters announces excitedly as you approach them, microphone pointed at you. "what a sensational performance, it must feel incredible, no?"

you nod, still catching your breath. "thank you, yeah. it feels incredible to be starting from the front."

"how are you feeling about your chances for tomorrow's race?"

taking a moment to compose yourself, you reply, "i'm feeling confident. the team has done a brilliant job, and the car felt fantastic out there. i can't wait for tomorrow!"

the cameras flash around you, capturing your infectious smile. it's a moment you'll cherish forever, marking a milestone in your formula 1 journey.

as you speak, lando, george and bottas, among others, spot you in the media pen. they give you encouraging pats on the shoulder and nods of approval as they pass by in between their own interviews.

the sky sports reporter continues, "aston martin has had its best qualifying result in a while. how does this performance reflect on the team's progress?"

"we've been pushing hard to improve, and today's result shows that we're moving in the right direction." you explain, wiping away a bead of sweat from your forehead. "this just proves that we're, um, ready to put up a fight with the other top teams, and uh, yeah. just so proud to be part of such a wonderful team."

the reporter thanks you for your time before ushering you to head off, not wanting to stall you any longer.

you practically float towards the team hub, each step light and filled with the weightless joy of your achievement.

inside, the familiar atmosphere of the aston martin team surrounds you, the soft hum of activity punctuated by congratulatory smiles and nods from team personnel who notice you enter.

you change swiftly, shedding the race gear for much more comfortable clothes, the shift from racer to relaxed brings you a sigh of relief.

exiting the team hub, you exchange quick goodnights with some of the crew. the paddock is winding down for the night, a peaceful atmosphere settling in with the occasional noise of people packing up.

as you approach the paddock exit, you feel a light tap on your shoulder. you spin around to find oscar piastri standing there, a small smile playing on his lips. his presence always seems to catch you off guard in these moments.

"congrats on pole position. you really nailed it out there." he says warmly, his australian accent ever so obvious.

you feel your cheeks heat up at his sincere words, a shy smile forming. "thank you, oscar. that means a lot."

"you're just full of surprises, huh?" he continues, his tone light and teasing.

you almost find yourself choking on your own words after hearing that, feeling unexpectedly flustered.

"um, something like that," you manage to reply, though your voice betrays a hint of embarrassment.

oscar's smile widens, revealing his bunny teeth. his eyes briefly flickering to your lips before meeting your gaze again.

"c'mon, i'll walk you to your car." he insists.

you hesitate for a moment, caught off guard by his offer, but agree nonetheless.

as you walk together, the distance between you felt both too close yet not close enough. you stole your fair share of glances at him, noticing the way his hair was so fluffed up, perhaps from him not tending to it after removing his helmet from earlier.

"so," he began casually, breaking the silence, "how're you feelin' about it all?"

you bite your lip, trying to steady your voice. "oh, y'know, it feels overwhelming, but at the same time, i'm over the moon!"

oscar chuckles softly, the sound making your heart flutter. "you're handling it all so well, though."

"did you get nervous during your rookie season?" you ask in a more serious tone.

he nods. "oh, absolutely. anyone who says they didn't is lying."

you laugh, and the sound of your voice is so angelic that oscar can’t help but join in.

"i guess it gets easier over time," you say, your eyes meeting his for a brief moment.

"i'll get back to you on that when i get my first win." he teases.

"it'll come sooner than you think," you reply with a playful grin, nudging him lightly.

the adrenaline from qualifying still lingers, but now there's a different kind of electricity between you two.

oscar meets your gaze with a faint smile, his usually reserved demeanour softened by the day's events.

"on a serious note, i'm so proud of you." he muses, his voice holding a hint of awe. "i know you'll go far."

he looks at you with a mix of admiration and something deeper, a connection that neither of you dares to fully acknowledge yet.

"i could say the same for you." your voice softens, feeling surprisingly shy despite your usual bubbly nature.

your fingers play with a stray strand of hair nervously, a habit that betrays your composure around him. oscar notices, and a gentle smile tugs at his lips.

as you approach your car, the conversation slows. you both stand there, reluctant to say goodbye.

oscar shifts his weight slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. "i'll see you tomorrow,"

"yeah, see you tomorrow," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. there's a brief pause, a moment where it feels like something more might be said, but then oscar gives you a small, heartfelt smile before turning to leave.

once in your hotel room, you change into your pyjamas and crawl into bed. but no matter how hard you try, you can't sleep.

you toss and turn, unable to get oscar out of your head. his little smile where his gums barely just peek through, the way he praised you earlier—all of it keeps you awake.

"oh, for fucks sake!" you groan, practically wrestling with the covers as you switch positions for the ninth time in ten minutes.

your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, all centred around piastri. every time you close your eyes, you see his face, hear his voice, and feel that stupid flutter in your chest again.

you punch your pillow in frustration and flop back down, head turned to face the window with hopes that the city lights are enough to lull you to sleep.

meanwhile, across the corridor, oscar is suffering with a similar problem. he lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, thoughts of you taking up far too much room in his head for his liking.

he sighs, rolling onto his side, but the images don't fade. it's maddening, this constant replay of every moment he spent with you today.

oscar sits up abruptly, running a hand through his hair. he knows he won't be able to sleep like this.

he throws off the covers in frustration. fuck it.

oscar slips on a shirt and rushes out into the hallway. his footsteps quickening as he heads towards your room. he doesn't think over his actions, he just knows he needs to see you.

the night feels unusually long, with each passing minute driving you more insane.

you sit upright and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. the carpet feels cool under your bare feet as you stand up, your heart beating a little faster with each step towards the closet.

your fingers fumble slightly as you slip on your shoes, the urgency to see oscar overriding any feeling of tiredness.

you take a deep breath, your hand lingering on the door handle. the hallway outside seems quieter than usual, as if holding its breath in anticipation of your next move. you open the door and step into the hallway, leaving all rationality in the hotel room, never to be considered again.

and then, at that exact moment, your paths meet. you round a corner just as oscar approaches from the opposite direction.

his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the world seems to stand still.

"i just wanted to—" oscar begins, his voice faltering as you jog up to him, closing the gap between you in quick strides. you reach up, gently cupping his face in your hands, your touch silencing his attempts to explain.

"don't talk," you whisper, your voice barely audible. without further hesitation, you lean in, pressing your lips to his in a bold and hungry kiss.

his hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer with a gentle urgency. the world around you blurs as you melt into him. your own hands find their way to his head, fingers threading through his hair as you lose yourself in the intoxicating sensation of his lips against yours.

the kiss feels like it lasts for ages, leaving you both breathless and panting as you finally pull away.

"i can't stop thinking about you," oscar mumbles, his voice coated with sleep that he was never able to get. "even when i try."

you're completely overwhelmed by the flood of feelings that surge within you. finally, after a long moment of silence, you manage to splutter out a response.

"you drive me crazy, piastri." you confess, your words carrying the weight of everything you've held back until now.

he cups your face gently in his hands. "kiss me again," he begs, "and don't stop this time."

without another word, you lean in once again, closing the distance between you. oscar's hands, which were rested on your waist moments ago, now tap against your thigh, signalling for you to get ready to jump.

with ease, he hoists you up, his arms strong and steady as he holds you tightly. you wrap your arms around his neck, trusting him completely as he begins to carry you down the hallway, lips still attached.

oscar navigates the hotel corridors with determination, his pace steady despite the weight in his arms. his only concern is you, and the overwhelming need to be close to you.

sure, it's a bit disorienting not being able to see where you're going, but in this moment, neither of you could care less about anything aside from each other.

fortunately, you make it to his hotel room without incident, the door closing softly behind you as oscar gently sets you down.

you both tumble onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. oscar's hands roam your back, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss.

eventually, the need for oxygen becomes too great, and you both pull apart, gasping for air yet unwilling to let go completely. your chests rise and fall in unison, breaths mingling as you try to steady yourselves.

"you taste so sweet," he murmurs, his breath hot against your lips. "can't get enough of you."

the two of you lie there for a moment, hands still exploring each other's bodies in gentle, loving caresses. oscar's fingers trace the outline of your jaw before bringing his thumb up to brush against your cheek.

wrapped in each other's arms, you both drift off to sleep, the gentle rhythm of your breaths synchronising.

when you wake up the next morning, the soft light of dawn filters through the curtains. you blink sleepily, feeling the comforting weight of oscar's arm draped over you. you take a moment to savour the feeling of being so close to him.

you turn to face him, finding him already awake with his eyes fixed on you. a soft smile graces his lips when he reaches to brush a strand of hair from your face.

you take a deep breath, gathering your courage. "oscar, what are we?"

he raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "you tell me."

you dip your head down, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. oscar takes notice and chuckles softly, shaking his head. "don't get all shy on me now," he teases.

with a gentle touch, he hooks his finger under your chin and lifts your head slightly, guiding your eyes to meet his. "we can be whatever you want us to be," he whispers.

you search his eyes, seeing nothing but honesty and affection reflected back at you. "i want us to be together," you finally confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "i want you, oscar."

"and you have me, baby." he hums, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

the room falls under a comfortable silence, the kind that speaks louder than words ever could. oscar's nails lightly graze your arm, a soothing touch that sends a shiver down your spine.

his shirt from the night before is nowhere to be seen and you let your eyes wander over his exposed chest and all the freckles that adorned it.

oscar breaks the silence, smirking to himself. "but, are y'sure you don't want carlos instead? or george? oh hey, how about the man himself, lando norris?"

"aww, you're hilarious." you roll your eyes, biting back a smile.

after a few minutes of lying in bed, enjoying the warmth of oscar's arms draped over your body, you reluctantly pull away.

oscar stirs slightly but remains in a restful state, his eyes half-lidded. you're careful not to disturb him as you rise from his bed. it takes every ounce of strength within you to not pounce on him and litter his adorable face with kisses or squish his cheeks.

however, you have to remind yourself that a race is still on the line. your first official race.

his tired eyes follow your movements with a faint, sleepy smile. with one final look, you turn the handle and step out into the hallway, making sure the door closes quietly behind you.

the corridor is calm, with only the faint sounds of early morning activity in the distance. you move swiftly but quietly, eager to return to your own room and prepare for the busy day ahead.

once you're dressed, you move to the bathroom to tidy up your hair. it's slightly messy from last night, and you grab a brush to smooth out the tangles, hoping it gives you a more polished look.

as you brush through your hair, you shift a few strands to the side to get a better angle.

that's when you notice something alarming—a large, prominent hickey on your neck. the mark is definitely visible, with the purple shade that stands out against your skin.

you try to stay calm as you think of solutions. a high-necked top or some creative use of makeup might help. making your way out of the ensuite, you frantically search for anything that can help you conceal it or at least make it less obvious.

given the scorching heat in bahrain, you decide against a high-necked top. instead, you opt for a tank top with a floral print and a comfortable pair of jeans.

with your outfit chosen, you turn your attention to the hickey on your neck. you stare at it in the mirror, feeling a pang of worry.

but it also brings you back memories from last night, when oscar had sucked a little too hard on your skin. you can't say you hated it, but you can't really say you love the idea of walking around the paddock with a purple splotch on your skin either.

as you work on concealing the hickey, you keep glancing at the clock, knowing you need to be on your way soon. the concealer helps somewhat, but you're aware it may not completely hide the mark.

just as you approach the elevators, you're surprised to see oscar standing there. he's leaning against the wall, seemingly relaxed and waiting for the elevator to arrive.

when he notices you, a teasing smile spreads across his face. "stalkin' me now, are you?"

you offer a small smile in return, trying your hardest to suppress the awkward feeling that’s rising within.

"everything alright?" he asks, his voice carrying a hint of concern.

you nod, trying to keep your composure. "yeah, of course."

the elevator arrives with a soft ding, and the doors open. you step inside with oscar following close behind.

"okay, actually," your worried voice cuts through the light conversation as you turn to oscar, his head snapping in your direction with immediate concern. "we may have a little problem."

his eyebrows knit together, a look of genuine curiousity replacing his earlier teasing. "yeah? what's up?" he asks, his tone turning serious. he places a hand gently on your hips, thumb rubbing up and down your sides as he senses the tension in your voice.

you exhale, trying to steady your nerves as you gesture toward the exposed area of your neck. the makeup had already started to melt away, revealing the mark that you'd hoped to keep hidden.

oscar's brown eyes widen in surprise, and he has to stifle a laugh, slapping a hand over his mouth to control himself. his shoulders shake slightly as he tries to suppress a giggle, the corners of his lips twitching despite his best efforts.

you playfully slap his arm "oscar! this is not funny," you say, though a smile tugs at your lips, unable to completely resist his laughter.

oscar looks at you with a mixture of sympathy and amusement. "i'm sorry," he manages between chuckles, "but it's kind of cute." he takes a step closer, his expression softening. "you'll be fine, trust me."

as the two of you make your way outside, oscar leads you to his car, his hand gently clasped around yours.

the drive to the paddock is filled with a comforting silence. the hum of the engine and occasional whoosh of passing traffic creates a soothing backdrop.

oscar lets his hand rest gently on your thigh, gripping it firmly every now and then when he has to make a turn.

the moment you’re in view, the commotion around you intensifies. cameras start flashing furiously once oscar parks the car.

as you walk, you can feel the weight of hundreds of eyes on you and in the midst of this frenzy, you spot a group of familiar faces standing together with jaws on the floor.

lando, george and carlos are watching from a short distance, their eyes wide as they take in the sight before them.

alex strolls past the group, laughing his ass off as he takes in their baffled expressions. "got a backup, lando? maybe another portuguese model?"

lando's eyes widen in surprise, his mouth opening slightly in disbelief. he turns to george and carlos, who are equally as dumbfounded, and raises an eyebrow as if to say, 'are you hearing this shit?'

george chuckles and shakes his head, while carlos tries to stifle a laugh. lando, still processing what his eyes are seeing, eventually breaks into a grin, shaking his head in disbelief at the audacity of alex's comment.

"seriously, mate?" lando calls after alex with an unamused expression. alex just grins wider, his laughter still echoing as he continues to walk away.

oscar gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as you approach the paddock entrance. his fingers linger on your hand for a moment before he releases it, giving you a smile. "make me proud, okay?"

"i'll see you soon," you reply, before turning to head toward the aston martin team hub.

as you make your way inside, a cheer erupts from the team members clustered around the room.

"there's our pole sitter!" someone shouts, and the rest of the team quickly join in.

the encouraging words and praise boost your confidence as you head towards the drivers' room. however, amidst the celebration, one of the team members notice something unusual.

"hey, what's that on your neck?" they ask, pointing out the faint mark that's barely covered by the concealer.

you feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment, and you try to brush it off with a nervous laugh. "oh, that's nothing," you say quickly, trying to downplay it as you make a beeline for the drivers' room.

the other team members glance at each other with curious shrugs, unsure about the mark but too engrossed in the day's preparations to pursue it further.

you quickly change into your race suit, the familiar material feeling both comforting and empowering. the race suit helps to hide the mark, but you can’t help feeling a bit self-conscious.

just as you're finishing up and adjusting the suit, alonso knocks on the door. as you welcome him in, you subtly tug at the collar of your race suit, pulling it a little bit higher over the hickey.

"lookin' sharp," alonso says, giving you a nod of approval. "you ready to kick some ass?"

"ready as i'll ever be."

alonso approaches, his eyes scanning your outfit and then meeting your gaze. "if you need anything, you know where to find me."

you nod, feeling reassured by his support. "thanks, fernando."

"oh, and one more thing," alonso says, halting you as you're about to follow him out. "don't go easy on him."

your brows furrow in confusion. "easy on who?"

alonso smirks, "you know who i mean." and with that, he steps out of the room.

you stand there for a moment, processing fernando's words. it suddenly clicks. of course, he was talking about oscar piastri.

deciding to ignore it, you exit the team hub and recieve some more pats on the bats on your way out.

the walk to the garage is filled with the sounds of engines revving and team members bustling about.

your team is already hard at work, making final adjustments to your car. you weave through the organised chaos with mechanics giving you a quick thumbs-up as you pass by.

you join your race engineer, immediately diving into discussions about strategies and how we can make this race an ultimate success.

the tension builds as the minutes tick by with the weight of the upcoming race settling on your shoulders.

"the weather looks stable," your race engineer says, eyes scanning a tablet filled with data. "we're starting on mediums to play it safe."

you nod, absorbing the information. "what about tire degradation?"

"we're seeing higher wear on the left rear," he replies. "we'll monitor it closely, but be mindful of it, especially through sector 2."

he continues. "and keep an eye on piastri. he's been quick in the last few sessions, so he might try something early on."

a confident smile tugs at your lips. "got it."

he places a hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "we believe in you. let's bring this home."

you slip on your balaclava, followed by your helmet. next, you pull on your gloves, flexing your fingers to ensure a perfect fit. each piece of gear feels like a second skin.

the grid is bustling with activity, teams making final adjustments and media capturing every moment. you take your place alongside the other drivers, the cars lined up neatly on the grid behind you.

as the national anthem plays, you stand tall. this is what you've worked for, what you've dreamed of.

with everything in place and the anthem finishing, you make your way over to the car, sliding into the seat that's been perfectly mould to your body.

yeah, you were almost certain that this thing will see the chequered flag first.

you grip the steering wheel, feeling the power of the car beneath you. the controls are familiar, and you run through a quick mental checklist with yourself.

you glance up, catching a glimpse of your team. they believe in you, and you believe in this car. with a deep breath, you close your eyes for a brief second, centering yourself.

when you open them again, you’re ready.

the formation lap begins and the cars start to move off the grid, each driver accelerating smoothly. you lead the pack, your car humming with power as you guide it through the initial lap.

the static buzz of the radio fades as your engineer's voice comes through clear and steady.

"radio check." he asks.

"yep, radio check." you reply,

you navigate the track, taking note of the conditions and the feel of the car. as you complete the formation lap, you position your car on the starting grid.

the lights go out, and your car leaps off the grid, pulling ahead with precision. you quickly establish your position at the front, your car gliding smoothly over the track.

but then, a sudden commotion erupts behind you. you catch a glimpse of charles and max clashing on the track. their cars veer off course, skidding into the barriers. they manage to regain control and rejoin the race, but not without losing several positions.

the incident causes a shuffle in the ranks. oscar, lando and lewis are quick to capitalise on the opportunity, moving up in the standings. piastri, in particular, closes the gap between you and himself, gaining drs as he approaches.

with a burst of speed, piastri overtakes you, sliding into the lead. frustration bubbles up inside you. you curse into the radio, "fuck!"

"it's fine," comes the calm response from your race engineer. "stay focused, and let's fight for it."

as the race continues, the cameras capture the dynamic battle on the track. in the commentary booth, david croft and ted kravitz provide their take on the unfolding drama.

david croft's voice fills the airwaves, "what a dramatic few laps it has been! we saw that collision between charles leclerc and max verstappen. both drivers managed to get back in the race, but they've dropped several positions as a result. and now, the change in the leaderboard is significant."

ted kravitz chimes in, "absolutely, david. it's been a game-changer. and now, oscar piastri has made a fantastic move, overtaking our leader. piastri has seized the opportunity, and it's been a fierce battle up front. our pole sitter is currently locked in an intense fight with piastri for that top spot."

david continues, "it's incredible to watch, especially given the circumstances. but it's not just the on-track action that's got everyone talking. there was, uh, quite a sighting in the paddock today, wasn't there, ted?"

ted nods, "oh, definitely, david. earlier today, we saw our pole sitter and oscar piastri entering the paddock together, hand in hand. it's, um, clear that there's more than just racing going on here."

as you approach a sharp turn, you make a decisive move. you dive to the inside line, threading the needle between oscar and the track's edge. you manage to slip past him, momentarily taking the lead.

the race engineer's voice crackles through your radio, offering words of encouragement and strategy adjustments, but you barely register it, focused entirely on the battle unfolding before you.

glancing in your mirrors, you can see oscar's car in close pursuit. he remains close, shadowing your every move as he looks for an opportunity to retake the position.

the final lap approaches, and you and oscar are locked in a relentless duel, each trying to outmaneuver the other.

as you round a particularly tight corner, oscar makes his move. with a daring overtake, he slips past you on the inside line, his car briefly nudging ahead. before you can fully react, he's already in the lead.

david croft's voice crackles through the broadcast, filled with excitement. "and it's piastri! oscar piastri has taken the lead on the final lap! what a move! what a race!"

ted pipes up, equally as thrilled. "what a battle we've witnessed today! it's been a masterclass in racing, and oscar piastri has just pulled off a sensational move. this is what formula one is all about!"

the final lap unfolds like a dramatic climax, with oscar holding his position and maintaining his lead. you're right on his tail, pushing hard, trying to find any opportunity to reclaim the position. but as the cars cross the finish line, it's oscar who comes out on top, clinching the victory in a spectacular finish.

oscar's excitement bursts forth over the radio. "holy shit, let’s go boys! fucking hell."

you pull your car into the designated area, where your team greets you with a mix of congratulations and supportive claps on the back.

while the taste of second place feels bittersweet, the praise from your team help lift your spirits. you take a moment to soak in the accomplishment, knowing that you've made a strong debut and set a solid foundation for the rest of the season.

amid the excitement, you glance over to where oscar stands, his own team gathered around him in celebration. as you approach, your focus narrows to him.

with a determined stride, you reach oscar and cup his cheeks with your hands. his eyes meet yours, and without hesitation, you lean in and press your lips against his in a deep kiss.

oscar's initial reaction is one of surprise. his face turns a shade of red that stands out even amidst the chaotic energy of the post-race environment. the sight of him blushing brightly is amusing, and it quickly becomes one of the highlights of the day for the spectators.

along with his first win, of course.

oscar's expression softens as he eases into the kiss. his hands move from resting at his sides to firmly gripping your waist, pulling you even closer to him. his fingers then splay across your back, holding you securely as if to make the moment last a little longer.

the background noise fades to a mere hum as the intensity of the kiss takes over. the cameras capture every detail—the way his eyes flutter shut, the way he holds you and the team whistling from behind the barrier.

as the kiss finally breaks, you both pull away slightly, your breaths mingling in the space between you. oscar's face is still flushed, but his smile is wide, giving you a perfect visual of his bunny teeth.

the cameras pan out to capture the broader scene—the celebrations, the crowd and the special moment unfolding in front of everyone.

the media is already setting up for the post-race interviews. the presenter approaches oscar, holding a microphone and a giddy smile.

"oscar! how does it feel to take the win today?" the presenter asks, clearly thrilled.

oscar replies, still catching his breath from the intense race, as well as that hot kiss from earlier. "yeah, it feels surreal. the team did a fantastic job, and it was a tough battle out there. i'm just so happy to be standing here with the win."

the presenter nods enthusiastically. "and what about that last-minute move? you really pulled ahead at the perfect time."

oscar chuckles, looking slightly bashful. "yeah, it was tight. i knew i had to make the most of it and, uh, just went for it. glad it worked out."

as oscar finishes his interview, the presenter turns to you, giving a nod for you to come over. "and now, let’s hear from our second-place finisher. how was the race for you?"

you step forward. "it was an incredible race," you say. "i gave it my all out there. but i'm just—yeah, really proud of the performance today."

the presenter smiles, intrigued. "and how about the battle with oscar? it looked intense."

you nod, remembering the close fight. "yeah, it was definitely intense. we were going wheel to wheel, and it's always a challenge when you’re racing someone as talented as oscar. i enjoyed every moment of it."

finally, the presenter turns to lando, who"s waiting patiently. "lando, third place today. how are you feeling?"

lando grins, looking surprisingly pleased for third place. "it's a great result for the team. i had a good start and was able to keep up with the leaders. it's always nice to be on the podium, especially with these guys."

you and oscar eventually head into the cooldown room. lando, having secured third place, is already there, grinning widely.

lando gestures to you with a smirk, clearly curious. "so, when did all this happen?" he asks, his tone light and teasing.

before either of you can respond, lando's eyes catch the very obvious hickey on your neck. his expression shifts to one of realisation, and he quickly adds, "actually, you know what, i don't think you need to answer that." he snickers to himself.

oscar's cheeks flush slightly, but he quickly recovers, offering lando a weak smile. you, on the other hand, can't help but laugh. the awkwardness of the situation making you burst into giggles.

"hey, you two make a pretty hot couple," lando teases as his eyebrows wiggle suggestively.

"gee, thanks, lando," you reply, playfully rolling your eyes. "glad to know we've got your approval."

lando, with a satisfied smile, plops into his third place chair beside oscar, stretching his arms out and giving a contented sigh.

oscar settles next to you, still buzzing from the adrenaline of the race but also softened by the relief of the day's end.

the room is filled with a mix of casual chatter and the low hum of the television screen mounted on the wall.

the screen flickers to life, showing highlights of the race. the first sequence captures the chaotic scene of leclerc and verstappen's crash.

as the footage plays, you and oscar wince in unison, your eyes widening at the sight of the collision. the memory of the crash, though intense, is quickly overshadowed by the excitement of the next scenes.

you and oscar's fierce battle near the end of the race fills the screen. the camera angles highlight every tight turn and near-overlap, showcasing the intensity of your fight for the lead.

watching it unfold, you can't help but cringe a little at the close calls and the sheer effort that went into maintaining your position.

oscar's hand rests casually on the arm of his chair, his eyes locked on the screen with a look of admiration. you find yourself leaning in slightly, lips parted as you study yourself whizzing round the track from a different perspective.

after some time in the cooldown room, you and the others make your way to the podium for the iconic celebration. fans, photographers and different teams gather around.

the podium setup stands before you, each step gleaming under the bright lights. the top step, reserved for the race winner, is adorned with the australian flag.

lando, who finished third, stands to your left on the third step, while you take your place on the second step, the weight of your impressive finish still sinking in.

oscar steps onto the first-place podium and the crowd erupts into cheers until the australian national anthem begins to play.

you watch as oscar's face lights up with a broad smile, his eyes shining with pride.

when the anthem comes to an end and the trophies have been handed out accordingly, he raises his arms in victory, acknowledging the cheers from those standing below him.

the iconic moment arrives with the pop of the champagne bottles, sending liquid flying through the air. oscar, standing proudly on the top step, grabs his bottle and begins to spray it wildly.

the celebratory spray quickly turns into a mess, with lando and you joining in on the fun.

you then move over to the media pen for a few more interviews. the reporters ask about your performance, your feelings on finishing second, and your thoughts on the battle for first place.

as the interviews wind down, you head towards the mclaren team hub. oscar is inside, celebrating with everyone, soaking up the joy of his first win.

you wait outside, leaning casually on the railing.

you catch brief glimpses of oscar through the humongous windows, his face alight with happiness as he chats with his crew and poses for photos.

as the minutes pass, you hear the muffled sounds of celebration from inside eventually settling down. finally, oscar emerges from the team hub, his face practically glowing.

he spots you almost instantly waiting by the railing and walks over, his smile widening as he approaches.

"hey," he says, his voice carrying the warmth of his recent success. "my little superstar."

you give him a soft smile, relieved to see him so happy. "see? what'd i tell you? sooner than you think."

oscar reaches out and takes your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "i wanna see you up there next."

suddenly, he sweeps you off your feet, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. you giggle as he twirls you around before gently setting you back down. his hands linger on your waist, fingers toying with the fabric of your outfit.

as you and oscar stroll hand in hand towards the paddock exit, the buzz of the paddock slowly fades away, replaced by a quieter, more intimate atmosphere.

when you reach the parking lot, you find that you don't have to part ways. there's a subtle sense of relief and joy that accompanies this realisation because instead of heading to separate cars, you get to stay together.

anyways, you aren’t mad that he stole your win, because the post-win sex after was fucking worth it.

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