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MAX VERSTAPPEN IS A FATHER WELCOME LILY 🤍

this is the sweetest thing stop

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All the Miles Between Us

Fernando Alonso x Wife!Reader -

A Life in Five Decades

hi babes this is my favourite work I’ve done I am absolutely sorry for the heartbreak hehe!!!

Youth (Ages 22–30)

Barcelona, 2005

You were scribbling notes in a corner of the paddock, trying to finish your article on tire degradation, when a shadow fell over your notebook.

“Do tires always get that much attention?” a Spanish accent teased.

You looked up, annoyed. “Only when the car’s too fast to blame anything else.”

Fernando grinned, lowering his sunglasses. “Ah. So you’re one of those journalists.”

“I’m not a journalist,” you replied. “Just an intern. So don’t waste your charm on me.”

“Too late,” he said, already leaning against the railing like he had all day. “What’s your name?”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to need something to call you when I win on Sunday.”

You rolled your eyes but smirked. “We’ll see.”

He did win that Sunday. And when he stood on the top step of the podium, champagne in hand, he winked right at your press box.

The next morning, there was a single flower taped to your locker.

It was worth it. – Fernando

⸻

Paris, 2006

It wasn’t fast. You kept it slow. Careful.

You didn’t want to be another name in a long list of weekend flings. And to his credit, Fernando never once treated you like one.

He wrote to you. Real letters. Called when he could, texted when he couldn’t. You still remember one from Istanbul:

Today the car felt like shit but your voice felt like home. I miss you more than I miss sleep. Love you already, I think. Don’t tell me I said that.

⸻

Oviedo, 2007 – The First Fight

The first time you shouted at him was in the kitchen of his family’s house.

“You never stop,” you snapped, slamming a drawer shut. “You don’t eat, you don’t rest, and when you’re not on track you’re still thinking about it!”

“It’s my job!” he fired back. “It’s what I was born to do!”

“And what about us?” Your voice cracked. “Were you born to destroy this, too?”

Silence. Long and awful.

Then, softly, “Do you think I don’t love you?”

“I think you love racing more.”

He walked out that night.

Came back the next morning with a bruised heart and a bouquet of gardenias.

He knelt at your door. “I didn’t sleep. I can’t sleep if we’re not okay.”

You let him in. You always would.

⸻

The Proposal – Oviedo, 2009

It was winter. Snow dusted the rooftops. You’d spent the day trying to assemble Ikea furniture while he read instructions out loud in a horrible British accent.

“I swear I’ll propose before I figure this out,” he grumbled, upside down under a bookshelf.

“God help us both,” you muttered, laughing.

That night, you were in pajamas, wine in hand, fire crackling in the hearth. He looked over at you, completely unguarded.

“You want to marry me?” he asked suddenly, softly.

You blinked. “Is that a serious question?”

He got up, walked over, and slipped his grandmother’s gold chain into your palm. “This is all I have on me. But I swear I’ll give you everything else. Please. Say yes.”

You were already crying when you whispered, “Always, Fernando.”

⸻

The Wedding – Asturias, 2010

The ceremony was on a hill, the wind catching your veil like it had a life of its own. Fernando looked at you like he’d never seen the sun before.

Your vows were whispered but felt louder than any engine.

“I promise to never let you go to sleep angry,” you said.

“And I promise to make you laugh when you least want to,” he added.

You both cried during the first dance. He held your waist like you were made of something ancient and holy.

“You’re too good for me,” he murmured.

“No. I’m just the one who stayed.”

That night, you lay tangled in white sheets, his fingers tracing the lines on your collarbone.

“I’ll spend every day proving I deserve this,” he whispered. “Even the hard ones.”

⸻

The Miscarriage – Rome, 2011

You were nine weeks in. You hadn’t told him yet. You were going to surprise him in person bought a tiny onesie that said papa’s lucky charm and everything.

Then the cramps started. The blood came. And you knew.

You didn’t cry at first. Just stared at the ceiling while the world turned inside out.

When he called from the hotel, you said, “You should come home.”

He knew.

He arrived the next morning, eyes red from the flight, his jacket still smelling like rain.

You collapsed in his arms.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” you sobbed. “And now it’s just gone.”

Fernando sank to his knees in front of you, pressing his forehead to your stomach.

“I already loved them,” he whispered. “Even if I never got to meet them.”

That night, he built a fire and held you close, rubbing your back while you shook with silent grief.

“We’ll try again,” he whispered. “When you’re ready. And even if it never happens, we’ll still have us. Always.”

You cried yourself to sleep with your hand over his heart.

⸻

Monaco Crash – 2013

You were watching live, laughing at a silly commentator’s remark when his car veered, slammed the barrier.

Your scream startled everyone in the room.

The headset fell from your ears. Your body moved before your brain could.

You were at the medical center before they could stop you, face pale and hands trembling.

He saw you through the glass, smiled weakly. “You’re more dramatic than the crash, mi vida.”

You shoved the curtain aside, tears in your eyes. “I thought you were dead, Fernando!”

He pulled you close, wincing. “Takes more than a wall to take me away from you.”

“Don’t joke,” you choked out.

“I’m not. I saw your face when they pulled me out… and all I thought was, ‘thank God, I’m still hers.’”

⸻

Final Moments of Youth – Austria, 2015

You were on a hiking trail, breathless from the altitude and the laughter. He had his arm around your shoulders, cheeks flushed.

“I think this is it,” he said, stopping to stare at the valley below.

“What?”

“The moment I stop chasing speed. I’m tired and for the first time, I think I want a slower life.”

You looked up at him, heart softening.

“You sure?”

He nodded. “I’ve been fast long enough. I want to learn how to be still with you.”

You kissed him. He kissed you back like he was anchoring himself to the ground.

⸻

The Middle Years (Ages 30–50)

⸻

Oviedo, 2016 — Slow Living Begins

Your house on the hill became a sanctuary. No roaring engines. No flights every weekend. Just wildflowers and books stacked in uneven towers.

Fernando gardened badly. You teased him relentlessly about the crooked tomato vines and his “tragically overwatered basil.”

“You’re just jealous my plants love me more,” he said with dirt on his cheeks, offering you a squashed-looking tomato like it was a diamond.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” you smirked.

He grinned. “So you do think I’m pretty.”

You rolled your eyes. “I married you, didn’t I?”

Evenings became your favorite time. You’d sit on the porch with mugs of tea, listening to the wind and letting your legs touch under the table.

“You know,” he said one night, his voice low, “this is the happiest I’ve ever been. No trophies. No pressure. Just you.”

You rested your head on his shoulder. “Then you finally understand what I’ve been trying to give you all these years.”

⸻

Barcelona, 2017 — The First Baby

The second time you got pregnant, you were terrified.

Fernando kissed your stomach every night like a prayer. “You’re not alone this time,” he whispered.

He went with you to every appointment. Held your hand when you cried during the heartbeat scan.

At twenty-three weeks, you woke him up at 3 a.m. in a panic.

“I had a dream the baby didn’t make it,” you whispered, voice shaking. “I felt so empty, Nando, I couldn’t breathe-”

He sat up immediately, pulling you into his lap.

“Feel this?” he said, placing your hand over your belly. “That’s life, cariño. And this…” He pressed your palm to his chest. “That’s love. I swear on both we’re going to be okay.”

Your daughter, Lucía, was born on a foggy autumn morning in October.

He cried so hard when he first held her you thought he might drop her.

“She’s got your nose,” he sobbed.

“And your stubborn brow,” you said, brushing her downy hair. “We’re doomed.”

⸻

Marbella, 2020 — The Second Baby & Pandemic Isolation

Your second child, Mateo, came during the quiet panic of the pandemic.

You gave birth wearing a mask. Fernando wasn’t allowed in the room for the first hour.

When he finally held him, he whispered, “You came into chaos and still brought peace.”

Those months were strange. Locked indoors with two small children, restless hands, and headlines full of dread.

One day you snapped, tears streaking your face after three straight nights without sleep.

“I don’t even know who I am anymore!” you yelled, cradling a crying Mateo while Lucía smeared crayon across the walls.

Fernando took the baby gently, whispered, “You’re the strongest person I know.”

“I’m falling apart.”

“So fall,” he said. “I’ll catch you.”

⸻

Oviedo, 2022 — The Cancer Scare

You found the lump in the shower. Firm. Small. But undeniably there.

You didn’t tell Fernando for a week. He was already overwhelmed his mother’s health was declining, the world still uncertain.

When you finally sat him down, you said it fast “I found something in my breast. I have a scan tomorrow.”

The way the color drained from his face nearly broke you.

He reached for you instantly, thumb trembling as he stroked your cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I didn’t want you to panic until I knew.”

“But you were already panicking,” he said softly. “Weren’t you?”

You nodded.

He pulled you into his chest and held you for so long you lost track of time. The night felt like a never-ending breath you couldn’t release.

At the hospital, his grip never left yours. The waiting room. The ultrasound. The biopsy. Each click of the machine felt like thunder.

When the doctor finally said it was benign a fibroadenoma, not cancer Fernando laughed and cried at the same time. His head bowed in relief, tears soaking into your shirt.

That night, he held your scarred breast in his hands and kissed it.

“This body… it’s given me everything,” he whispered. “You. Our children. Our life. I’ll never take a single piece of it for granted again.”

You wept into the crook of his neck. The way he looked at you never changed. Not through aging. Not through scars. Not through fear.

Only deeper. Only fuller. Only more.

⸻

Asturias, 2023 — Losing Your Father

He died suddenly. A heart attack in his sleep.

Fernando drove you six hours overnight so you could say goodbye at dawn.

At the funeral, you didn’t speak for three days.

He cooked for you, sat beside you without pushing, held your hand even when you wouldn’t meet his eyes.

On the third night, you finally spoke.

“I didn’t even say ‘I love you’ the last time we spoke. I told him I was too busy to call.”

Fernando pulled you close, your grief soaking into his shirt.

“You were busy. Loving me. Raising our kids. Being the person he was so proud of.”

You sobbed into his chest, the pain blooming like wildfire.

He stayed up with you all night, listening to stories about your dad. Never said a word. Just listened.

⸻

Oviedo, 2028 — The Anniversary

Lucía was fourteen. Mateo was eleven. Your house was loud with hormones and burnt toast.

You’d forgotten it was your anniversary until you came home and found the entire garden lit with string lights, your favorite dinner steaming on the table.

Fernando stood in a button-up shirt that didn’t match his pants, holding a wrinkled card.

“I panicked. The kids helped. Lucía picked the flowers. Mateo made dessert so eat at your own risk.”

You laughed until you cried.

Over dinner, you held his hand and whispered, “You’re still my favorite thing in the world.”

He kissed your knuckles. “I’ve had so many lives… but the only one I ever wanted was the one where I’m yours.”

⸻

The End (Ages 50–70)

⸻

Oviedo, 2040 — The Quiet Years

The house grew quieter with each passing year. Lucía left for university first,political science, all fire and fight like her father. Mateo followed soon after, gentler, more like you, always calling just to hear your voice.

You and Fernando got used to cooking for two. Walking the same forest path behind the house each morning. Picking out tomatoes at the market like it was a grand adventure. Reading in bed with your feet tangled together under the blanket.

“This is the good part,” you whispered one morning, watching the sun spill golden over his lined face. “No rush. No races. Just you.”

Fernando chuckled. “I liked winning. But this—” He reached to brush your hair back. “This is better.”

⸻

Barcelona, 2046 — The Diagnosis

It started with fatigue.

You thought it was just age. Then the headaches came. The weight loss. The vision blurs.

They found the tumor in June. Glioblastoma. Terminal.

You were fifty-nine.

You waited until you knew for sure before you told Fernando. You practiced the words in the mirror a hundred times. Still, nothing prepared you for the way he crumpled in the hospital hallway, clutching the edge of a plastic chair like it might save him.

“No,” he said. “No, no, no don’t say it. We still have time. We always have time.”

You held his face and made him look at you. “We have time to love, Nando. But not forever. And that’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he sobbed, voice breaking. “It’s not okay.”

You kissed him. “We were never promised forever. But we earned every second.”

⸻

Oviedo, 2047 — Preparing for Goodbye

The house changed again.

He moved the bed to the sunroom so you could see the trees sway while you rested. He played your favorite records on quiet mornings Piano Concerto No. 2, Springsteen, Fleetwood Mac. You talked about everything and nothing.

You asked him to write to you again. Like he did when you were twenty.

He filled six notebooks.

“I never knew how much I still had to say to you,” he whispered one day, holding your hand like it was made of porcelain. “Even now.”

You cried together, often. But you also laughed about how bad his cooking still was, how Lucía inherited your temper, how Mateo cried at commercials.

You made him promise something, one night when the pain was bad.

“When it’s time… I want one last dance,” you said, voice raw but soft. “Just you and me. Like before.”

“Of course,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your knuckles. “Name the song, mi amor.”

You smiled. “Infinity Jaymes Young.”

His voice caught. “That’s our song.”

“It always was.”

⸻

October, 2048 — The Final Dance

You knew it was time. The doctors said days, maybe a week. You didn’t want machines. You just wanted your family.

Lucía and Mateo flew in. They curled beside you in bed like they were little again. Fernando never left your side. Not once.

On a soft October evening, with the windows open and golden light pouring in, he helped you out of bed. Your body trembled. He held you up.

And then he played the song.

“Baby this love I’ll never let it die…”

You danced.

Slow. Barely moving. His arms around you. Your head on his shoulder. Your breath shallow.

“You gave me the best life,” you whispered against his neck. “I wouldn’t trade a second.”

He cried freely, holding you tighter. “I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready.”

You smiled, even through the tears. “I’ll wait for you. Wherever the next place is, I’ll be there.”

“Promise?”

You kissed his lips. “I promise.”

⸻

A Week Later

You passed away in your sleep, in the home you built together.

Fernando stayed beside you until the sun rose. He kissed your forehead and whispered the last words you ever said to him: “I’ll wait for you.”

⸻

Years Later — After You Were Gone

He kept your books on the shelf.

Still made tea for two, sometimes forgetting.

Still wrote you letters even when there was no one to read them.

Your children came often. Brought your grandkids. Told stories you’d once told them.

Lucía once asked him, “Do you still miss her, after all these years?”

He smiled, eyes soft with memory. “Every day. But I know she’s just ahead of me. Not gone. Just waiting.”

⸻

The Reunion

There’s a dream Fernando has often.

He’s young again. You’re waiting for him beneath a streetlamp in Florence, wearing the dress you wore the night you told him you loved him for the first time.

Music floats in from an open café window. He reaches for your hand.

“Dance with me?” he asks.

You smile.

“Always.”

And you do.

Dancing with him forever

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to the anons who’ve asked for the lando x ex reader fic and for the Lewis x senna reader fic I am not ignoring your requests both of them are being written in immense detail!! hopefully I’ll come out by the end of this month 🤞🏻I am so sorry for the delays!! other fics are being published since they are not as detail oriented

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Hey! P here!! How are you? Been busy a lot 😔 Can I request fic about James Vowles x wife reader? Since last season, James has been pursuing Carlos to join Williams but to no avail. To extend spending time with his family (I read somewhere about it, which is good I think 🤔) Anyways, she's been saying (jokingly) that he loves Carlos more than her with the amount of attention he's given to him even especially after Carlos joins the team. Compliment his hair, making it look like James had fallen in love with Carlos and now his wife. I can imagine how shocked and baffled James is about her jokes🤣🤣🤣 All these things lead to the F175 event at O2 and chaos happend. You decide how it goes. Add anything you want. Ask me anything. Thanks!! :))

Smooth Operator

James Vowles x Wife!Reader

feat. Carlos Sainz as the Unexpected Third in Your Marriage

hi I’m back after ages I have so many requests im working through I’m sorry it’s taking years but life is horrible rn anyways this one made me laugh hope yalls like it.

You were this close to adding Carlos Sainz to your Christmas card list and not because you liked him. Oh no,because at this point, it felt rude not to.

“Just admit it,” you said one morning, arms crossed, eyes narrowing as your husband stared lovingly oh so lovingly at an image of Carlos on the Williams simulator. “You’re in love with him.” James blinked. “Excuse me?” “With Carlos. Your hair idol. Your strategic soulmate. Your beautiful Spanish muse.”

He turned slowly, expression pained. “We’re not doing this again.”

You leaned on the kitchen island with a smile that spelled chaos. “He’s got thick curls, James. You said he’s a data genius. Yesterday I caught you complimenting his turn-in technique. What’s next? Love poems?”

James pinched the bridge of his nose like a man suffering. “I am the Team Principal of Williams Racing. This is business.”

“This is a crush. You’re emotionally cheating. I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

He sighed. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“And you, my dear husband, are flirting with danger. And Carlos.”

It had all started last season, when James became laser-focused on “Project Carlos.” He claimed it was about rebuilding Williams, strengthening the team, reshaping the future.

But all you heard was:

“Carlos is incredibly adaptable.”

“Carlos has unbelievable race awareness.”

“Carlos doesn’t just drive the car. He becomes one with the car.”

At one point, you genuinely wondered if James was going to name your future child Carlos.

When Carlos actually signed with Williams, you half-expected James to cry.

Instead, he opened a bottle of champagne and said, “This is the beginning of a new era.”

“For you and Carlos?” you asked.

“For the team,” he said. But you weren’t convinced.

The true chaos began at the F175 Launch Event at the O2.

You’d promised to be chill. Polished. Supportive.

You even wore your Nice Wife at PR Events dress. The red one. Very “I’m fine, my husband’s not cheating on me with a race car driver.”

But then someone on the panel asked James what it was like to sign Carlos.

And your darling husband turned to the mic with the serenity of a monk and said,

“Carlos brings something really rare. He’s sharp, strategic. He reads the car like a language only he understands. Honestly, watching him drive is like art. It’s… elegant.”

You turned your head slowly. “Elegant?” you mouthed. Elegant?

Then, like a woman possessed, you strode onto the stage.

“Hi, yes, sorry to interrupt,” you said sweetly, grabbing a mic. “I just wanted to confirm that I’m still married to James Vowles, even though he appears to be in a deeply committed emotional relationship with Carlos Sainz.”

Carlos, sipping water off-stage, choked.

The crowd erupted.

James looked like he’d aged fifteen years in fifteen seconds.

“Darling,” he said, his voice that calm, brittle tone you only hear when someone is internally screaming, “this is not the time.”

“No, James,” you said, planting your hand dramatically on your hip. “This is exactly the time. I just want to know if I’m going to be replaced by someone who has better curls and a smoother overtake.”

“I can explain-”

“Oh, no need. We’ll work out a custody schedule with Toto and Fred. Maybe alternating grands prix?”

“YOU’RE BEING RIDICULOUS,” James hissed.

Someone in the audience shouted, “LET HER COOK!”

Carlos was now hiding behind a curtain.

The next morning, your phone exploded.

Sky Sports: “Carlos Sainz Caught in Love Triangle?”

F1 Twitter: #VowlesVibes

CarlosFan69: “Why is this woman funnier than every man on the grid?”

James stood in the kitchen, scrolling grimly through the headlines.

“I’m a Team Principal, not a Bachelor contestant,” he muttered.

You, in your robe, sipping tea: “Maybe you shouldn’t flirt with Spaniards on live TV.”

“It wasn’t flirting,” he snapped. “I said his driving was elegant.”

You raised a brow. “You’ve never called me elegant.”

“Because you walked on stage and accused me of strategic adultery!”

“I was brave,” you said. “A woman in love. Defending her man from another man.”

His face dropped into his hands. “I’m married to a gremlin.”

You leaned in, grinning. “But I’m your gremlin.”

Later that day, Carlos sent James a text:

Carlos: Hey… everything okay? Do I need to issue a public apology? I didn’t mean to come between you two.

James: It’s fine. My wife just thinks I’m in love with your hair.

Carlos: …Are you?

James: I’m blocking you.

That night, James curled up beside you on the sofa, resting his head against your shoulder.

“You know I love you, right?” he mumbled into your shirt.

You smiled, stroking his hair. “Of course. But if Carlos ever invites you to a shampoo commercial…”

He groaned. “I knew you were going to say that.”

“I’ll understand,” you said sweetly. “I’ll pack your conditioner myself.”

After The Incident at the F175 launch the one where you jokingly accused your husband of being emotionally married to Carlos Sainz in front of God and every Sky Sports mic things had settled.

Barely.

The memes were still circulating. Your phone was still getting tagged in Twitter/X posts captioned “Me third-wheeling my parents’ divorce like #VowlesVibes.” And people were still calling James “a loyal yet emotionally confused king.”

But James? He was trying to carry on like everything was normal.

Which is why, when Carlos invited both of you to dinner, James said yes without hesitation.

You, however, stared at him like he’d grown a second head.

“Dinner?” you repeated. “With the man you abandoned me for?”

James groaned. “I did not abandon you. You stormed the stage like a Real Housewife of Monaco.”

“You called his driving elegant, James. That’s practically foreplay.”

“You’re lucky I love you.” “You’re lucky I didn’t bring a slideshow.”

The dinner was at some trendy, overpriced Italian place in London that clearly catered to rich people who wanted to pretend they were casual. You sat down at a three-person table tucked in a corner, candlelight flickering between bread baskets and sparkling water.

Carlos arrived ten minutes late, curls bouncing, smile too charming for someone who’d accidentally become the center of your marriage drama.

He hugged James. He hugged you.

You tried not to squint suspiciously at the way your husband’s hand lingered on Carlos’s shoulder.

“This place is nice,” Carlos said, settling in. “I’m glad we’re doing this. I was worried I caused some tension?”

You sipped your wine. “Carlos, you did nothing wrong. You just exist. With your hair. And your tactical driving style. And your surgeon hands.”

James choked on his water.

Carlos blinked. “Sorry??my what?”

James cleared his throat. “She thinks I talk about you too much.”

“You do,” you and Carlos said at the same time.

James raised a hand. “Okay, betrayal.”

The waiter came by, and just as you were ordering pasta, someone at the table next to you gasped—loudly.

“Oh my GOD,” a girl whispered, clutching her friend’s arm. “It’s them.”

You raised a brow.

“The… Williams love triangle!”

Carlos blinked. “What?”

“They went viral,” the friend whispered back. “The guy, the wife, and the other guy with the perfect hair this is them!”

You stared at James. “You see what you’ve done?”

“I didn’t ask to be in a tabloid throuple,” he hissed.

Suddenly, the girl leaned over, clutching her phone. “Can I get a picture of all three of you? You’re like, iconic. Like PolyF1Goals.”

You blinked. “I’m sorry?? what?”

She beamed. “You know, like a throuple! You, your husband, and Carlos!”

Carlos blinked. James looked like he’d swallowed a fork.

You?

You smiled sweetly and said, “Of course.”

So yes, there is now a photo floating online of James in the middle, looking like he’s questioning every life decision, you smiling like the chaos demon wife you are, and Carlos doing a confused peace sign like he’d just stumbled into a cult.

The caption?

“Williams going for podiums and polyamory in 2026. #ThroupleTrouble #VowlesSainzWife”

Later that night, back at home, you flopped onto the bed and checked your phone.

Another headline.

“Carlos Sainz Caught in Unexpected Romantic Dynamic With Williams Boss and Wife”

Experts weigh in: Is this the future of F1?

James walked into the room and faceplanted on the bed beside you.

“I’m going to be buried with this story on my tombstone, aren’t I?”

You stroked his back lovingly. “Right next to a bouquet of Carlos’s curls.”

James groaned into the pillow. “I hate you.”

You kissed his temple. “No you don’t. You love me more than Carlos.”

He hesitated. “…Yes. But only slightly.”

That caused another wave of the endless storm of “ you love Carlos more” rant from you.

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Hi! I happened to read your Bustamante reader fic, and I kinda fell in love with it, so I was wondering if there was going to be an Oscar ending too?

It's not like I didn't like the Landos's one, but I honestly felt like he didn't "deserved" the happy ending after how mean he was.

It would be interesting also an ending where the reader get to stand on on her own, without having to end with Lando or Oscar, because she learned to be happy and love herself regardless of the others opinion.( you're under no obbligation to actually do this, I was just blabbering my thoughs)

Anyway, thank you for reading this, and keep on writings such good stuff ✨️

thank you so much loviee!!!

originally the reader was not going to end up with anyone she was going to find peace and rebuild herself that’s what I wanted but a lot of the comments wanted a happy ending with Lando!! personally I would have preferred for her to end up with Oscar just felt like they made the most sense.

I will be making a part for Oscar and a final part for the reader herself.

I am however on a slight hiatus due to mean anons here!! this will be my priority after i come back. :)

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Hellooooo i love your writing so so much and i wanted to see if i could request something :3

Max being completely in love with reader since he first saw her when he joined F1, she is besties with an F1 driver (if possible Checo, because i love him so) so she constantly attends races. And when Checo joins redbull Max is losing his mind because reader spends a lot of time with the team and is always cheering for RB. But when he finally gathers the courage to ask her out it turns out that reader has been in a relationship for quite a while with another driver (Lewis?). You can choose if this has a happy ending or not (hehe i know you love some angst). Anyways, thank u in advance!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Haven’t I given enough

you said angst and the ending being up to me?? 3940 words buckle up this is intense. if you are ever in a situation like this please don’t hesitate to reach out and get help and always remember you are enough!!

tw-: emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts, suicide, abusive relationship

Max Verstappen had always kept his feelings for you hidden, tucked away deep inside where no one could see them. His focus was always on racing, on winning, on being the best. But that didn’t mean his feelings for you were any less real. Every time he saw you, whether you were laughing with Checo in the garage or talking to the crew, it felt like his heart beat a little faster.

You were always there for the team, always cheering them on with that infectious smile of yours. But Max couldn’t shake the way you made him feel. You made him feel something more, something that wasn’t just about racing, something raw, real. The problem was, Max had kept his distance. He didn’t want to complicate things. You were Checo’s best friend.

You were also with Lewis, the man everyone thought you were happy with.

And so, Max kept it buried.

Max Verstappen had always buried his emotions deep inside. He was used to shutting them out, focusing solely on racing, on winning. But there was something about you that changed him, even when he didn’t want to admit it.

Every glance you shot him, every smile you gave him, tore at his heart. You were the kind of person that made everything feel brighter, even when the world around you was dark. But you were with Lewis. TheLewis Hamilton. The man who had everything. The man who seemed perfect in every way.

You were his.

Max watched helplessly, unable to do anything but be on the sidelines as you lost pieces of yourself to the toxic relationship you had with Lewis. He could see it in the way you shrank under his harsh words, the way your smile faded, how you walked on eggshells, always trying to please him, trying to live up to an impossible standard.

But it was never enough.

Each time Max saw you with Lewis, it was like watching a light slowly die. You were no longer the radiant person he had met. You were broken piece by piece under the weight of Lewis’s cruel words. Max could see it. He could feel it in the air. But nothing could stop the train wreck of your relationship. You were in too deep.

One night, after a disastrous race, Max overheard a conversation between you and Lewis. He wasn’t supposed to hear it, but the words cut through the air like knives.

Lewis stood in front of you in the hotel suite, his posture tense, his jaw clenched with anger. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?” he spat, his voice venomous. “I work my ass off to keep us on top, and what do I get from you? Nothing.”

You recoiled, shrinking back from him, eyes wide with fear. “I—I’m sorry, Lewis. I’ve been trying, I promise. I just—”

“No,” Lewis interrupted, his voice rising. “You’re trying to get his attention, aren’t you? Max’s? You think I don’t see it? You think I don’t know what’s going on when you look at him like that?” He sneered, his hands balling into fists. “You’ll never be good enough for me. You’re just a distraction. You always have been. You’ll never live up to the woman I need by my side. You can’t even keep up.”

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t say anything.

“Get out of my sight,” Lewis snapped. “You’re lucky I even tolerate you. You make me look weak with your useless, pathetic attempts. I need someone who’s perfect. Not some broken little girl who can’t even handle the pressure.”

The words stung, not just because they were cruel, but because they were true in Lewis’s eyes. You were nothing but a disappointment to him, and he made sure you felt it every damn day.

Max stood there, frozen, his heart breaking with every word that Lewis spat. He had always known that something was wrong, but hearing it laid bare was another level of pain altogether. He wanted to run to you, to pull you away from that toxic environment, but you were already too far gone and went willing to accept any help. You were so deep in it that you couldn’t even see the damage it was doing.

In the following weeks, things got worse. You became a shadow of yourself, constantly apologizing for things you didn’t do, shrinking whenever Lewis looked at you with that cold, disappointed gaze. It was clear to Max that your mental health was deteriorating. You barely smiled anymore, and when you did, it was a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

One night, after a particularly heated argument with Lewis, Max found you sitting alone in the garage. The chaos of the race weekend had faded, but you were still there, staring blankly at the empty cars.

“Hey,” Max said softly, sitting beside you. He wanted to reach out, to comfort you, but the words felt like they would fail him. He knew the damage was already done.

You didn’t respond at first. You just stared straight ahead, your arms wrapped around yourself in a protective posture. After a long silence, you spoke, your voice barely audible.

“Why does he hate me, Max? Why does he always make me feel like I’m not enough?” You choked on the words, tears streaming down your face as your shoulders shook with quiet sobs. “I try so hard. I give him everything, and it’s still never enough. I’m just a failure.”

Max’s heart shattered. He wanted to tell you that you weren’t a failure, that you were enough, but the words felt hollow. You wouldn’t believe them. He could see that. He had no power to fix the broken pieces of you. But he couldn’t leave you like this.

“You’re more than enough,” Max snapped, his voice suddenly raw with emotion. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. The frustration, the anger, the ache he had been hiding it all came flooding out. “You’re everything, okay? You’ve always been enough. You’ve always been enough for me.”

But you just shook your head, the tears falling faster now, as though they had been dammed up for too long. “I don’t know how to be strong anymore. I don’t know who I am. I’ve lost myself trying to be someone I’m not, and I can’t go back.”

Max felt his throat tighten. He wanted to kiss away the pain, to hold you and promise you that things would get better, but he knew deep down that there was nothing he could do. You were already lost in your fight with yourself.

The relationship with Lewis continued to deteriorate. Every interaction with him was more toxic than the last. He belittled you, criticized you, and made you feel worthless. Every fight, every cruel comment chipped away at your self-worth. You were drowning.

Max watched it all, powerless. He tried to be there for you, but you were retreating further into yourself. And then, one day, it happened.

It was after another argument with Lewis, one that had been particularly vicious. Max had seen the way Lewis had grabbed your wrist, the way he shoved you against a wall in a fit of anger. You looked smaller and smaller every day. Max tried to intervene, but Lewis was quick to shut him down.

“Stay out of it, Max. You don’t know her like I do,” Lewis sneered.

That night, you couldn’t take it anymore. The weight of the years of verbal and emotional abuse finally broke you. Alone in the dark, the suffocating pressure, the fear, and the pain it all became too much to bear.

You were dead the following morning.

Max arrived at the hotel for a race weekend, excited to see you. But when he knocked on your door, no one answered. He knocked again, growing more worried. Something felt off. Max didn’t wait. He used the spare key and entered.

What he saw shattered him beyond words.

You were lying on the floor, cold, your lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. The pain in your face was enough to crush anyone’s soul. Max’s breath caught in his throat as he rushed to you, shaking you gently, but there was nothing.

He knew. He knew it was too late.

The investigation that followed confirmed what Max had already feared. You had taken your own life. The toxic relationship, the pressure to be perfect, the constant emotional abuse it had all been too much. And it was Lewis’s cruel words that had driven you to this point.

Max was shattered. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t understand how the person he loved had been taken away so cruelly, so senselessly. He blamed himself. He blamed Lewis. And he hated himself for not doing more, for not getting through to you sooner.

The news of your death hit the F1 world hard. It sent shockwaves through the paddock, and everyone knew what had happened and how toxic and abusive Lewis had been toward you. The whispers of his cruelty filled the air, but it was too late. You were gone, and Max was left with nothing but the crushing weight of his love for you and the guilt that would haunt him forever.

He would never forgive himself for not saving you. And as for Lewis? He was left isolated. No one in the F1 community could look at him the same way again. His toxic words, his control, and his manipulation had all led to your death, and there was no coming back from that. He was consumed with guilt, but it didn’t matter. You were gone. And no apology, no regret, could change that.

Max left the F1 world, unable to continue racing knowing that you were no longer there. His heart had been shattered, and he had lost the one person who had ever made him feel anything more than just a driver.

In the end, Max’s love for you was never enough. And the world would never be the same without you.

The months following your death felt like a never-ending cycle of pain for Max. He could feel the weight of your absence in every corner of his life. Every victory, every race, every moment of fame he had ever dreamed of, it all felt hollow. You had been his constant, the one person who made him feel alive beyond the racetrack. And now, you were gone.

But what cut him the deepest was the indifference from the one person who should have felt your loss just as deeply. it was Lewis Hamilton.

Lewis was the man you had been with before, the one who had gotten under your skin, the one who had promised you things he never intended to keep. But instead of showing any kind of remorse after your death, Lewis had moved on like nothing had happened. He continued racing, continued his life as if he didn’t just lose the person who had once meant everything to him.

Max couldn’t understand it. He saw the way Lewis spoke about you behind closed doors, how he belittled you, how he acted like you were nothing but a distraction. But after your passing? Lewis never took responsibility for the toxic environment he had created for you. In fact, he kept going, acting like it was you who had been the problem all along.

Max was struggling to keep his emotions in check. He had stayed quiet for months, biting his tongue, letting the pain consume him. But the anger? That was building slowly, steadily. Every time he saw Lewis’s smug face, every time he heard him laugh with the same confidence, as if he were a footnote in his life, it made Max’s blood boil.

The tipping point came one night, during a private event in the paddock. Max had been watching from a distance as Lewis interacted with the media and the crowd, and it was as though nothing had changed. Max’s hands were clenched at his sides as he stood there, his chest tight. He had to confront Lewis. He had to say something. For you. For him.

Max found Lewis standing alone by his car, looking at his phone. He looked up and smiled when he saw Max approach. “Oh, Max, what’s up?” Lewis asked, too casually, like the world was still spinning normally.

Max could feel his patience wearing thin. He took a deep breath, pushing down the urge to lash out immediately. But then Lewis said something that pushed him to the edge.

“I don’t know why people are still talking about her, honestly,” Lewis said with a shrug, his voice tinged with annoyance. “She was just too… fragile. I told her the pressure was too much. She couldn’t handle it, and she never would have.”

Max’s eyes narrowed, his stomach twisting with disgust. It was the same tone, the same arrogance, as if you had been nothing but an inconvenience to him. And now that you were gone, he was still blaming you.

Max took one step forward, his jaw clenched. “You are unbelievable, you know that?”

Lewis cocked his head, still looking unfazed. “What? You’re still upset about her? Man, get over it. She couldn’t handle the life. She wasn’t cut out for it. You saw that, didn’t you?”

Max’s hands trembled with rage. “She was the strongest person I’ve ever met,” he spat. “She was more than you ever deserved. You used her, Lewis. You manipulated her and made her feel like she was never enough. And now that she’s gone, you still have the nerve to act like it’s her fault?”

Lewis laughed, shaking his head. “You’re really blaming me for this? Maybe if she had been a little stronger, she would still be here.”

Max felt a wave of fury wash over him, but it wasn’t just anger anymore. It was sadness, deep and painful. The words you had heard from him, the things he had said to you that had crushed your spirit, were all coming back. Max’s heart ached, but more than that, it broke for you. You had never deserved this. And now, even in your absence, Lewis was still tearing you down.

“I can’t stand it,” Max muttered, his voice barely audible but full of raw emotion. “You really think you can just walk away, act like she was nothing? You’re still doing it, even now.”

Lewis looked at him, unfazed. “She wasn’t good enough for me, Max. You know that. I’m sorry if you’ve got a soft spot for her, but it’s the truth. She was just a chapter that didn’t work out.” He gave Max a smirk. “It’s a shame. But hey, life goes on.”

Max took a few steps forward, his face tight with anger. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to keep doing this. She was good enough. And you will never be able to erase her memory like that.”

The frustration and hurt finally bubbled to the surface. Max, exhausted from the anger, took a deep breath. “You never cared about her. She was always just a trophy to you. You never cared enough to be the man she needed.”

Max’s eyes were filled with a fierce intensity as he stood there, glaring at Lewis. “You didn’t deserve her, and you’ll never understand just how much you ruined her.” His voice dropped into a low whisper. “You broke her, and now you act like none of it matters.”

Lewis didn’t respond. He simply rolled his eyes and gave Max a dismissive wave. “Get over it, Max. She’s gone, and it’s not my fault.”

That was the moment. Max snapped. The anger that had been simmering for months, the deep ache of knowing that the person he had loved had been destroyed, came to a head. He couldn’t stay quiet any longer.

Max grabbed Lewis by the collar, pushing him hard against the car. His breath was shallow, and his heart pounded in his chest. “You’re a coward, Lewis,” he growled. “You killed her, and you won’t even own up to it. You couldn’t handle her, and you never even tried. You’ll never know how lucky you were to have had someone like her in your life.”

Lewis’s expression didn’t change. His smug smile remained, even as Max held him against the car. “Let go of me, Verstappen. You’re making a scene. You think she was some saint? She wasn’t. She was weak. You think you’re any better for her than I was?”

Max’s face turned crimson with anger. “You never understood her. You never saw her the way I did. You were always too busy with yourself to see what you had.”

Max’s anger simmered, but as he stepped back, he realized that there was no point in pushing Lewis any further. The man in front of him was still the same self-absorbed, indifferent, and too proud to see the damage he had done. Max had always tried to understand him, always thought there was some honor there. But now, with everything laid bare, Max saw just how deep the selfishness ran.

“You’ll never get it, will you?” Max asked quietly, his voice thick with sorrow. “You’ll never understand just how much she gave, how much she sacrificed for you.”

Lewis smirked, unfazed. “She made her choices. She wasn’t perfect, and neither was I. You think you’re better than me now? You think you have the right to judge?”

Max clenched his fists, fighting the urge to lash out. His heart was breaking, not just for the woman he had loved, but for the realization that some people, no matter how much they wished they would change, never would.

“I’m done, Lewis,” Max said, his voice almost a whisper, as if he was speaking to himself. “I’m done with all of this. Done with racing. Done with trying to make sense of any of it.”

He turned away, not even waiting for Lewis’s response. There was nothing left to say. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of all that had been lost.

It was a decision Max had been avoiding, but now there was no denying it. The pain was too much. The sport he had once loved, the life that had once filled him with purpose, no longer mattered. Your death had shattered something inside him, and he couldn’t continue to race in a world where your memory was constantly being tainted by people like Lewis. The excitement of the track, the cheers from the fans, the trophies it all felt hollow now.

Max officially announced his retirement from Formula 1 shortly after that night. The news sent shockwaves through the racing world. Fans were stunned, media outlets speculated endlessly, but no one could truly understand the weight of Max’s decision.

Behind the cameras and the flashing lights, Max found himself living in a numb state, haunted by your absence. Every time he walked past the places where you had laughed, where you had cheered him on, it felt like he was being suffocated. The memories were both his comfort and his torment. He could still hear your voice in his mind, feel your touch, and see your smile. But you were gone

He distanced himself from everyone. The thought of facing the world without you by his side was unbearable. Racing had been his entire life, and now it had been stripped away. He wasn’t the same person. How could he be?

Weeks passed, and the press buzzed about Max’s sudden exit from Formula 1. Some speculated about his mental state; others assumed it was a temporary break. But Max knew deep down that he would never go back. Racing didn’t feel right without you.

Lewis, on the other hand, had gone on with his life as if nothing had changed. He continued his career, continued his public image, and continued to race with the same smugness that had always followed him. But Max saw through it now. The facade was crumbling, and it was clear that Lewis had never cared.

Max didn’t reach out to anyone in the racing community. He isolated himself, letting the grief consume him. The pain of losing you was overwhelming, but even worse was the realization that the man who had once been so important to you had turned his back on everything you had given him. The man who had pushed you down when you needed support was still running the race, living the life he had always wanted, pretending as though you had never mattered.

Max couldn’t let that happen. He would not let Lewis continue as though he had done nothing wrong. He would make sure everyone knew the truth.

Max sought out the media one last time. He didn’t want the attention, but he knew that this was the only way to truly honor you and make sure your story was heard the way it should have been. In a small press conference, he spoke with an intensity that had never been seen before. The reporters, stunned by his emotional state, were silent as he spoke.

“Everyone wants to know why I left the sport,” Max began, his voice steady but full of raw emotion. “The truth is, I’m not here for the glory anymore. I’m not here for the trophies. I’m not here for the fame or the fans. I’m here because we lost someone who was more important than any of that. I left because the sport, the world it wasn’t the same without her.”

He paused, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “She was kind and loving, and she gave everything she had for the people she loved. But most of all, she deserved better than what she got from some people. You know who you are.”

Max’s eyes burned with the intensity of his words as he stared straight into the cameras.

“I’m not going to let anyone forget who she was. I won’t let her be erased. And I won’t let people like Lewis Hamilton pretend they didn’t play a part in how she ended up. You all should’ve seen it. I saw it. She wasn’t perfect, but she was real. And she deserved so much better.”

The reporters were silent, stunned by the rawness of his confession. Max’s words hung in the air, his pain visible to everyone who was listening. He was finally letting the world know the truth: you were more than just a casualty in a toxic relationship. You were a person, a human being who deserved love, who deserved to be seen, and who had been taken too soon.

Max’s voice wavered as he finished, “I’m not doing this for her anymore. I’m doing it for me. And I won’t stop until people know who she really was.”

With that, Max turned and walked away, leaving behind a world that had never truly understood him, but more importantly, a world that had never understood you.

Max never returned to racing. His heart had left the sport the moment you had left his life. And with every passing day, the grief didn’t get easier. It just became something he had to carry with him, a weight that he would never be able to shed.

But he would never let your memory fade. Even in the silence of his own life, Max would always carry your spirit with him. And while he may have lost everything, one thing was certain: he would always love you, no matter what.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

hi requests are open!! have fun

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Hey p here!!! 👋🏻 Just as we talk, I want a fic about Toto Wolff x wife reader who always healthy/happy go lucky person and suddenly she's ill. You can't decide what it is. Include there drivers/anyone in the sports reaction. Like they're trying to help her, watching out for her. She's their friend/mother figure, of course they're worried. But being her, she just deals with humour even though she's sick. And can you include Jack? That boy has my heart. Even though this must be heartbreaking for him at such a young age, I think it's time for some angst, gut wrenching story that traumatize us all😃 And lastly how everyone cope with it. Add anything you want to. Thanks!!! :))) Appreciate it❤️❤️

With prompts:

1) "After all this time?” “Yes. I still do"

2) "My sweet and brave little munchkin."

3) "Tick tock, the clock is ticking"

4) "I thought we had more time"

Slipping through my fingers

there are moments in life that define everything, moments that still your world to a complete standstill people often assume that these moments are of joy or happiness. unfortunately for toto his moments caught a rotten streak and his world was never going to be the same ever again.

the day toto met her was a day full of surprises for both of them.

y/n had just recently made the decision to switch up her major from nursing towards mass media and journalism. it was a switch that raised a lot of eyebrows and concern from her family yet they supported her nonetheless, everyone knew how talented she was and knew she’d get a job eventually. What they didn’t know was along with the job she’d catch the attention of a rather tall man.

toto was having a rather eventful day, both of his star drivers had crashed into each other on lap one giving his arch nemesis horner his day in the sun with his prodigy max verstappen winning the race only to rub salt in his raw open wounds. he should have signed him instead of nico toto thought as he stomped through the media pen only to be bombared with around a hundred reporters eagerly waiting to see if the team principal was going to have another one of his infamous anger blowouts. alas to them a young female reporters questions had caught the interest of Toto.

Her question was clear cut no glazing no unnecessary flattery to grab his attention, all she’d ask him was if he’s going to fire someone on the pit wall for the strategies today. it was a bold question not one that reportes like to use since it ends up in court cases but she really didn’t care. It was her first few races and she wanted to make a name for herself and boy did she.

Toto’s response was curt and dismissive but she didn’t budge one bit, she was persistent and that caught Toto’s attention.

ladies and gentlemen this was the first moment in Toto’s life that had stopped the world for him.

the moment he looked into her eyes he felt everything was irrelevant. He didn’t care that both silver arrows were a pile of silver dust all that was captivating to him was the brown tinge in her hazel eyes. toto wanted to stare into them forever, and perhaps god was smiling straight down on them and decided to seal both their fates together.

and so it started.

their infamous courtship.

Now for a team principal speaking to people was almost second nature but when it came to her toto was a blubbering mess always leaving the conversation wanting to speak more, it was rather funny towards the other team principals. he was acting like a teenager with his first crush.

things weren’t all that easy for her too, each interaction with toto outside of business had her craving him more and more, she chuckled at his faint attempts to woo her and get her lunches. she too had a crush on him and it was only getting stronger.

the turning point in their relationship was the after party at the Abu Dhabi Grabd Prix, the long season was finally over and the celebrations had started. Toto had eagerly invited her and was hoping praying dying to see her come, unfortunately he wasn’t the only one who was waiting to see her, amongst his infatuation toto was as blind to how interested zak brown had also become towards her. he wasn’t often caught staring at her in places no man’s eyes had entitlement to. things were starting to get creepy but none of our two lovebirds had figured that out.

the party was in full swing when she had decided to show up, wrapping up her tasks with sky sports made her rather late but the look in Toto’s eyes when he had saw her was everything she had hoped and wanted. The man looked starstruck it was insane how whipped he was for her and they weren’t even together.

a couple of drinks and close dances later when she had excused herself to go to the ladies room was when calamity hit.

zak had his dirty gazes set on her ever since she had shown up, he knew toto wasn’t on guard whenever she was there and knew it was his time to try and get handsy with her.

right after walking out of the ladies room she was dragged into a corner and that’s when she felt small fat and stubby fingers trying to touch her. it felt humiliating disgusting and frankly made her want to bleach her skin. right before zak could cover her mouth and start with his actual plan she screamed as hard as she could hoping to get anyone’s attention oh how she regretted not taking up Toto’s offer to walk her to the restroom.

toto had wondered where she had ended up disappearing, was he being too much did she need a break from him?? he was overthinking when he heard her cries for help and in a second all the alcohol in his system had vanished. He leaped towards her cries and the scene startled him to his core, in a second zak was off her and his disgusting touch was replaced with the warm calm caressing of toto a man she was familiar with someone she knew.

the entire night was ruined in a split second, it wasn’t until toto had zak in a head lock that she’d regained her senses, seeing him so worked up over protecting her name and honour made her do what she did next.

the second toto was close by she kissed him, full on kissed him. it wasn’t short or messy it was full of reassurance of promise and of new beginnings.

that’s how the two souls collided.

oh and zak was given not one but multiple fractures and a hefty legal case to fight, toto didn’t play when it came to the ones who he loved.

the new couple relationship caused frenzy all over the internet and the paddock, no one really expected them to be a couple it didn’t make sense, out of everyone why did toto choose a journalist? Didn’t he know if they break up his whole life would be plastered onto the news.

Headlines like these made both of them chuckle, neither of them seeming to care, they were just happy to be with each other against all odds.

throughout the course of their relationship there were times where y/n had become sick, it often worried toto seeing how easily the common cold for her could become much serious, she always brushed his concerns away. it wasn’t until much later into their relationship when toto started noticing more and more health concerns for his now fiancé.

the proposal had taken place in Iceland she’d always loved it there especially the black sand beach and how beautifully it contrasted against the bright white snow, often times she’d dreamed of going there and toto made it a reality for them. she later joked that the beach and the snow represented each of them perfectly, Toto being the dark black beach that only softens in appearance in front of the snow. he’d got down on one knee at that exact spot uttering words of love and honesty. they had their vows at the exact same place. some things don’t change.

it was now 3 years into their marriage, toto had settled down and wasn’t all angry and violent like he used to be (ask the poor abused headsets) he was much calmer and level headed, that’s what happens when you marry the love of your life. he knew not to piss his wife off or worry her after all she was carrying his baby.

the pregnancy test was taken after she had thrown up half her body weight, toto wasn’t around he infact was in austria for the Grand Prix, she had excused herself from it with dumb excuses, Toto ever the gentleman knew not to push it and let her have some space.

In a matter of seconds their world’s axis shifted.

the pregnancy test came as a positive surprise, neither of them had discussed having children but they weren’t against the idea, when toto came back to his wife pale and heaving beside the toilet he knew what was going on, he whisked her off her feet and kissed her so strongly that you might think the man was off to war.

her pregnancy came with a price thou, a huge price for her to pay. y/n was anaemic her body didn’t have enough red blood cells and that’s why she could faint at the drop of a hat.

the couple had been shopping during the off season for the arrival of their little baby, unfortunately fans and paparazzi got a hold of their location resulting in a rather ugly swarm of cameras and people. the noise alone alerted Toto that their quiet evening had come to an end, in a rush to protect his wife and unborn child Toto’s steps where hastened and elongated, unfortunately his wife simply couldn’t keep up and fell victim to one of her fainting spells the camera and the noises alongside the amount of people did nothing to help her and so she collapsed.

the faint thud would haunt Toto forever, his whole world crumbled when he heard it, instantly he rushed towards her only to find her knocked out cold, the rush to the hospital has been the longest wait of his life.

he swore then and there that he wouldn’t ever put her or their child in such a situation.

luckily both mother and baby were okay, when they got home later that night she had fallen asleep unknown to the storm that was brewing within her husband.

Toto wasn’t a very emotionally available man, he preferred to deal with his emotions privately or not at all if possible but ever since meeting her he’s been more open towards showing love and care but the one thing he won’t show is fear.

Torger Christian Wolff was afraid.

he’d been having these vivid dreams of his wife dying and leaving him and their six year old son alone forever, it’s been haunting him ever since her fall.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

One last time I promise after that, I'll let you go

the first time lando and y/n had met was based of pure coincidence.

they both had common friends who had common activities and that’s how the two got to know each other. their bond started growing right after that.

the friend group they had been a part of had a little problem of bullying and picking on certain members, with Lando and her they had decided to ship them together. it wasn’t a innocent harmless thing, they had actually started to make fun of them based of their ship name and how ugly their kids might be. yeah real mature.

y/ns first signs of infatuation were innocent and harmless, i mean which girl could ever ignore a guy who had stood up to their friend group and had personally told everyone to piss off and leave the both of them alone (that action in intensified their rumours) but Lando didn’t seem to care, it was her in the other hand that seemed to be a bit disturbed by the taunting and bullying.

in a haste decision y/n had decided to leave the friend circle and had deactivated her socials, it was only Lando who had convinced her to come back just for him.

cute right??

that’s where everything went wrong and at times she wished she would have never met him.

what started as a innocent crush turned into something more, something more genuine and pure.

isolated incidents with Lando often at times where he was being a sweetheart and spending up to 14 hours a day on zoom calls with her, only ending them if he genuinely had to go or if her parents were upset. He knew her families drama, he knew all about her traumatic friendships and was there to defend her and always reminded her that she was better then them and didn’t need to feel inferior. he was her everything. it didn’t help that he’d always want to spend time one on one and never with the group.

they’d laugh together work together heck even ate meals on zoom together and yet they were not actually together.

y/n had tried multiple times to test and see if he cared about her in a different way one that wasn’t friendly. often times she’s pick a outfit that was rather short or something that wasn’t her to see if he’d ask why she was wearing that or whom she was going out to meet. he’d never say anything

y/n was a rational person and knew that someone like him would never settle for someone like her but a nagging feeling always made her believe that she had a shot. And it wasn’t just her gut, Landon’s own mother had on multiple occasions sat down with the girl and had mentioned just how lucky her son was to have known such a beautiful person both inside out and at one occasion even mentioned how much she wanted her as her daughter in law.

she had blushed rather hardly at that. secretly she had also wished the exact same thing. cisca would have been the best mother in law for her.

Lando’s relation with her wasn’t the only thing that had made her think that he too might have been into her, and no it wasn’t the fact that she was the one who had planned his birthday party nor was it the fact that her family were the only people invited to their Christmas party.

It was Lando’s relationship with her mother, he’d always listen to her no matter what. It often puzzled her why and cisca had the same reaction each time, the desperate mother had once asked y/ns mother to click pictures of lando since he would never let her. silly things yk?

but all these silly things add up and when they do things suddenly don’t feel as silly anymore.

after months of hiding her feelings and being persuaded by her mutual friends who had known of her crush y/n decided to ask lando out it was purely because her friend had said that she too thinks that lando liked her and was only shy and that’s why y/n should make the move.

stupid stupid decision.

it was peak Covid and tiktok was trending like no other app, whilst trying to find ways to confess without being all sappy she had come across the “Jenny darling you’re my best friend” trend and thought it was the perfect playful way to confess her feelings without it being too sappy or detailed.

With shaking hands she typed the lyrics out bit by bit

lan darling you’re my best friend (read 1:43 pm) (y/n)

yeh ik ( read 1:43 pm) (lan)

but there’s a few things that you don’t know off

(1:43 pm) (y/n)

huh? like wha? you on smth (1:44 pm) (lan)

why i borrow your hoodies so often (1:44 pm) (y/n)

i wanna ruin our friendship, we should be lovers instead

(1:44 pm) (y/n)

the risk that she had taken had backfired so magnificently that it was almost laughable.

Lando Norris was one person who wouldn’t be caught without his phone, and that’s why his sudden disappearance was like a punch in the gut for her.

it was a whole day later when he’d replied.

oh ok (2:30 am) (lan)

[verstappenf1lecccc]

whatever I’m going to be writing will be absolutely heart breaking please forgive me since I’ve gotten my reality check as well as a small part of my heart broken.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Behind the Mask

Oscar Piastri finds himself drawn to a dancer trapped in a life she never chose. Can he uncover her secrets before it’s too late?

whoo it’s been ages since I wrote something that wasn’t a request welcome to behind the mask, please note that this work has some triggering content please be aware that the reader works with men who don’t nearly care about women. let me know if I should dwell further into this. as always comments are appreciated

Oscar Piastri had never felt so alive. The adrenaline of his first Formula 1 win still coursed through his veins, his heart still thundering with the aftershock of the victory. The celebration had been wild, loud, and overflowing with champagne, but now, the roar of the crowd had died down, replaced with the much quieter hum of a small, nondescript bar. He could still feel the weight of the race in his chest, but he needed a place to relax a place to breathe without the cameras and the pressure.

Lando Norris had led the charge to this dimly lit dive. It was tucked away on a quiet street, the kind of place that didn’t show up in any glossy magazines or trendy guides, but it had an air of familiarity—like a hideout for people who wanted to escape their own lives for just a moment. Oscar wasn’t looking for anything more than a break from the world, but what he didn’t expect was to be drawn into the world of someone else.

The bar had a dingy charm to it. The walls were painted in fading shades of burgundy, the leather booths cracked and weathered. The scent of stale alcohol lingered in the air, and the low hum of electronic music thudded from the speakers. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was real—a place where you came to forget, if only for a night.

Oscar leaned against the worn wooden bar, talking to Lando and the rest of the team as they celebrated, but something on the stage caught his eye. A dancer. She moved gracefully, but the fluidity of her motions didn’t match the unease he saw in her eyes. She was beautiful there was no denying that but something about the performance felt off. Oscar couldn’t put his finger on it at first, but it was clear she wasn’t there because she wanted to be.

She was there because she had no choice.

Oscar’s gaze stayed locked on her, his mind racing. Every step she took, every spin she executed, was perfect in form, but there was an underlying stiffness, a tension that tainted her every movement. It wasn’t the normal control that came with performance. This was the kind of stiffness that came from fear, from the weight of being trapped. She was performing for an audience, but there was nothing alive in her movements. There was nothing free about her.

She smiled,her lips stretched wide but her eyes her eyes told a different story. Oscar could see it clearly now. The smile was practiced, rehearsed a mask to hide the deep discomfort beneath. She wasn’t performing for the love of dancing. She was performing because it was expected of her. Because she had no other choice. The smile she wore, no matter how perfect, didn’t reach her eyes. It never did.

Their eyes locked for a split second, and in that moment, Oscar felt something strange stir inside him a sudden, intense recognition. She was trapped. It was more than just the rigidness of her body, more than just the exhaustion written across her face. It was the way she held herself, the way she looked at him, like she was begging for someone to see through the facade.

Her eyes flicked away almost immediately, but that brief moment was enough. Oscar couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t just a dancer. She was a person one who was being suffocated by something much larger than herself.

The bar owner caught his eye from across the room, his cold, predatory gaze sweeping over the dancer. Oscar could feel the man’s disdain even from this distance. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a face that looked permanently etched in anger, as if life had dealt him a raw hand that he wasn’t willing to take with grace. His eyes flicked back to the dancer, then to the rest of the room. Oscar’s stomach tightened when he saw the bar owner move toward the stage, his step purposeful, like a man accustomed to getting what he wanted.

The woman didn’t see him coming at first. She was adjusting her outfit, the final moments of her routine drawing to a close, but Oscar could see her visibly tense the moment he laid eyes on her. She stiffened like a deer in the headlights.

Oscar’s heart dropped into his stomach as the man reached her, his hand grabbing her wrist with a force that was almost bruising. The way he jerked her toward him was unmistakable. The woman barely flinched at his roughness, as if she had become accustomed to this treatment, like a puppet whose strings were pulled at the whims of the bar owner. He barked orders at her, words Oscar couldn’t hear but could imagine from the way the woman’s posture wilted, her head lowered in submission.

She didn’t speak back. She didn’t try to fight him. She simply let him move her, like she was just another object to be used.

Oscar could see it in the way her shoulders slumped as she walked to the back of the bar. The mask had slipped, and in that brief moment of interaction, Oscar saw her as she truly was: worn down, defeated, invisible. He didn’t know what was worse—the way she moved under the bar owner’s grip or the fact that she had learned to accept it.

The constant hum of the bar, the clinking of glasses, the loud chatter—none of it ever drowned out the noise in her head. It was a noise that she couldn’t escape, a constant reminder that she was stuck in this miserable routine, trapped in a life she had never wanted.

She had never dreamed of becoming a bar dancer. When she was a little girl, her passion had been ballet. The elegant flow of her movements, the perfect pirouettes, the thrill of performing on a stage that made her feel alive. But life had other plans.

She had been forced to leave ballet when funding dried up, leaving her with nothing but mounting debts to keep her awake at night. The dream she had held onto so tightly slipped through her fingers, just like the grip of the reality she now faced. So, when she had found herself desperate, clinging to the edges of survival, this grimy bar had been the only place willing to offer her a paycheck. And it was the kind of paycheck that was just enough to keep the bill collectors at bay, to keep her from losing the dingy apartment she called home.

The apartment wasn’t much. It was small, cramped, and constantly smelled of mildew. The building had seen better days—leaking pipes, cracked windows, thin walls that allowed the sounds of the street to bleed through. It wasn’t safe. She had learned the hard way that the people who lived there were as desperate as she was. Creeps loitered in the hallways, knocking on her door at all hours of the night, offering money in exchange for favors.

Some nights, she didn’t even feel safe in her own bed.

But here, in this bar, the situation was no different. The patrons leered, their eyes stripping her down in ways she couldn’t escape. She had learned to ignore them, to pretend they weren’t there, but she could feel the weight of their stares, could hear their whispers when they thought she wasn’t listening. She was nothing more than a commodity to them—a distraction. Something to look at while they sipped their overpriced drinks.

And the bar owner? He was the worst of them all. He wasn’t a man who saw her as a person. He didn’t care about her safety, her well-being, or her happiness. She was a tool to him. An object for his gain.

The way he treated her, the way he grabbed her arm without care, pulling her around like she was a piece of furniture—she had learned to accept it. She had learned to swallow the bile that rose in her throat whenever he touched her, to ignore the sick feeling that came when he ordered her around. She had to, because if she didn’t, he’d make it worse.

And sometimes, in the quiet moments when she was alone in the back room, she wondered if she’d ever make it out. If she’d ever find a way to escape this life.

But it wasn’t as simple as walking away. Not when the rent was due. Not when the debts kept piling up. And not when she had nowhere else to go.

Oscar watched in disgust as the bar owner jerked the woman toward the back, his fingers digging into her wrist with a force that could bruise bone. His stomach churned with fury, the sight of the woman’s limp compliance making him want to lunge forward and stop it, to confront the man who dared treat her like this.

It was too much.

He clenched his fists so tight his knuckles turned white, the anger rising in his chest like a tidal wave. No one should treat another person like this. Oscar had seen his fair share of arrogance, greed, and power plays, but this—this was different. This was cruel. She was not a toy for someone to throw around.

Lando and the others were too busy making crude jokes about the situation to notice the gravity of it. “Look at Piastri, mate. Finally found something more interesting than the podium,” one of them snickered.

“Oi, you reckon she’s got any tricks in her?” another joked, nudging Oscar as if it were all some game.

Oscar’s jaw tightened. “She’s not just a stripper,” he spat back, his voice low and sharp, filled with a sudden fury that startled even him. He glared at them, disgust crawling across his face. “You don’t get it.”

But they didn’t stop.

“Mate, she’s nothing special. Just another one of those girls.”

Oscar watched her disappear into the back of the bar, his jaw clenched, as the crude laughter of his teammates echoed around him.

They didn’t understand, but he would.

He would come back, figure out who she really was, and he wouldn’t rest until he did.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Hey p here!! 👋🏻👋🏻 Merry Christmas (belated😅) and Happy New Year!!!! Miss you. I'm gonna quit my rambling now🤭

Could you do Toto Wolff with wife reader with their son, Jack celebrating Christmas together. Busying themselves during the winter break after all year of hard working and traveling around. Finding presents for each other, spending time with families and friends. Just fun stuff. Suggestive, fluff. Ask me anything you want to. Up to you. Thanks!!! :))

With prompts : "Don't act like you don't like it." & "You'd make a cute elf."

Here's a link to the pics of this story based. They're so cute!! 🥺 https://www.tumblr.com/f1archives/771048027944337408/toto-susie-wolff-at-christmas-via-susies?source=share

Credit to @f1archives

Love you❤️❤️

hii p heheh missed ya loads!! hope you like this

Last Christmas I Gave You My Heart

The Wolff family home is bathed in the soft, golden glow of Christmas lights. Outside, a blanket of snow covers the ground, and the air is crisp, filled with the scent of pine and wood smoke from the fireplace. Inside, the warmth of the fire flickers and crackles, the room a cozy sanctuary from the cold. The Christmas tree sparkles with twinkling lights, carefully hung ornaments, and a star perched proudly at the top.

You, Toto, and little Jack are fully immersed in the Christmas spirit. Jack, brimming with excitement, runs through the house, eagerly pulling you and Toto into the holiday fun.

“Mom, Dad! Can we decorate the tree now?” Jack’s voice rings out from the living room, his little hands clasped together in excitement. His eyes gleam with the energy only a child at Christmas can have.

Toto chuckles as he scoops Jack up into his arms, his strong arms cradling him with ease. “Of course, we can’t leave the tree looking bare now, can we?” he teases, his eyes twinkling with playful mischief.

You watch them with a smile, your heart swelling as you see Toto—always so serious in his professional life—become a playful, doting father. You know how hard he works, how many miles he travels, but moments like these, when he’s home with his family, are what ground him.

“I’m going to make this tree the best one ever!” Jack exclaims, his little voice full of determination as he runs to the ornaments. You and Toto follow behind him, laughing at his boundless enthusiasm.

As you move toward the tree, Toto walks up beside you, his arm casually brushing against yours. “I love how excited he gets for Christmas,” he murmurs softly, his voice low and full of affection. “And I love sharing this with you.”

You glance up at him, your heart fluttering slightly. “I love it too. It’s perfect,” you reply, your voice sincere.

Toto leans in just a little closer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “You’re the perfect part of my Christmas.” His breath is warm against your skin, and you can’t help but feel the pull of his closeness. You try to concentrate on the ornaments, but his words linger in your mind, sending a flutter through your chest.

You reach for a delicate glass ornament, but before you can place it on the tree, Toto’s hand gently wraps around your wrist. His touch is gentle but firm, and you can’t help but shiver at the way his fingers brush against your skin. His voice drops to a low, teasing tone. “You’d make a beautiful elf, you know,” he murmurs, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’d love to see you all dressed up with a little outfit, all wrapped in ribbons and bows.”

You raise an eyebrow, your lips curling into a playful smile. “Oh? You think I could pull that off?” you ask, teasing him right back. “And what would you do with your elf once you caught her?”

Toto chuckles, the sound low and rich, sending a pleasant warmth through you. “I’d spoil her,” he replies with a wink, his hand sliding to your lower back, pulling you in just a little closer.

“Give her everything she wants.”

You lean in, just enough to make his heart race, but before either of you can take the teasing further, Jack calls out, “Mom! Dad! The star! The star! We need to put it on top!”

You both break into laughter, but Toto’s hand stays on your back, a quiet, intimate connection between you as you both move to place the star at the top of the tree. The soft click of the ornament in place feels like the perfect conclusion to the decorating. But the moment isn’t over. Toto leans in once more, his lips grazing your ear as he whispers with a playful grin, “Just wait, I’m not done with you yet.”

You glance at him, a teasing glint in your eyes. “I don’t think Santa’s going to approve of your behavior, Troger”.

He laughs softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Santa can mind his business,” he says with a wink, his voice laced with playful heat. “I’ve been very good this year… as long as you’ve been good, too.”

You smile up at him, your fingers lightly tracing the edge of his jawline. “I’ve been good,” you tease, stepping closer to him until the distance between you is almost nonexistent. The warmth of his body radiates against yours, and you feel the gentle hum of affection between you both.

Before anything else can happen, Jack bounds back into the room, interrupting your moment. “Mom! Dad! It’s cookie time!” he exclaims, eyes wide with excitement as he drags a tray of freshly baked cookies into the room.

Toto chuckles, his hand on your back once more as he watches Jack’s enthusiasm. “Looks like we’re going to need all the energy we can get if we’re going to finish celebrating this Christmas,” he says, his voice playful, as he helps Jack set the cookies down on the table.

You grin, slipping your hand into Toto’s as the three of you enjoy the sweet treats together. You feel the warmth of the moment, the closeness, and the joy of spending time as a family. The love you share is palpable, a soft, steady rhythm that feels like everything you’ve ever wanted.

The night continues to wind down in the Wolff household, the soft glow of the Christmas tree illuminating the room as the fire crackles in the hearth. The house is quiet now, the only sound the occasional snap from the flames and the soft hum of the holiday music playing in the background.

Toto’s hand is gently resting on your shoulder, his thumb brushing small, soothing circles across your skin as you sit together on the couch. You’re tucked close into his side, your head resting on his chest, the steady beat of his heart comforting and steady. Every now and then, you glance up at him, catching the soft, affectionate look in his eyes as he watches you, his gaze warm and full of love.

The night feels perfect. Jack’s already asleep in his room, his soft breaths barely audible from the hallway. The house feels peaceful, calm—filled with the kind of love that can only come from the warmth of family. This year had been a whirlwind, but in moments like these, surrounded by the people who mean everything to you, all the chaos of the outside world fades away.

Toto leans down, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle kiss. “I meant what I said,” he murmurs softly. “This… this Christmas with you and Jack… it’s everything I could have ever hoped for.”

You smile up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I feel the same way,” you reply quietly. “This is exactly where I want to be.”

Toto’s eyes soften, his hand lifting to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing across your cheek. His gaze moves from your eyes to your lips, and there’s an undeniable pull between you both. The warmth of the room, the quiet intimacy, it all builds up to this moment.

“You make my world better,” he whispers, his voice low and husky. “You and Jack… you both make everything worth it.”

You close your eyes for a moment, the depth of his words sinking in, before opening them again to meet his gaze. “And you make everything feel safe,” you respond softly. “Even on the hardest days.”

Toto leans in, his lips brushing gently against yours in a tender kiss that speaks of everything you’ve shared and all the moments still to come. The kiss is slow and lingering, sweet with the promise of many more quiet nights like this, full of love and shared dreams. When you pull away, both of you are smiling softly, the connection between you deepening with each passing second.

“Do you know what else I love about Christmas?” Toto asks, his voice playful but sincere.

You raise an eyebrow, a smile tugging at your lips. “What’s that?”

He leans closer, his lips hovering near your ear as he whispers, “The way you make everything feel like magic.” His breath is warm against your skin, sending a soft shiver through you. “You have this way of turning ordinary moments into something special.”

You chuckle softly, your fingers tracing his jawline. “I think you’re the one who makes everything magical,” you reply, your voice full of affection. “You and your teasing.”

Toto grins, his hand sliding down to your waist, pulling you closer as he gives you that charming smile you’ve always loved. “Well, I’ll keep teasing you then, if it means I get to see that beautiful smile on your face,” he says, his voice low and filled with adoration.

You can’t help but laugh, your hand resting on his chest. “You’ve certainly got your work cut out for you, Mr. Wolff,” you tease, though the affection in your voice makes it clear you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying the presence of each other. The fire crackles, and the Christmas tree sparkles in the background, casting soft reflections on the walls.

Eventually, you rise from the couch, holding your hand out to Toto. “Come on,” you say softly,

“Let’s go check on Jack. Make sure he’s really asleep.”

Toto chuckles, standing up and taking your hand. As you both walk down the hallway to Jack’s room, the peace of the night wraps around you both like a blanket. The soft glow from the hallway light spills into Jack’s room, where you both peer inside to find him tucked in tight, his little hands clutching his favorite teddy bear.

You smile down at him, feeling a sense of deep gratitude and contentment wash over you. “He’s perfect,” you whisper, your heart full as you watch him sleep.

Toto stands behind you, his hand resting on your shoulder. “So are you,” he says softly, his voice filled with warmth. “You make everything feel perfect.”

You turn around to face him, your eyes meeting his once more. In that moment, with the quiet hum of the world around you, you know that this is exactly where you’re meant to be—surrounded by love, laughter, and the warmth of family.

You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Merry Christmas, Toto,” you whisper against his mouth, the words full of meaning and affection.

“Merry Christmas, love,” he replies, his voice tender as his arms wrap around you once more, pulling you close.

As you stand there, in his arms, you feel everything—how much you’ve both given to each other, the life you’ve built together, and the future still to come. The world outside may be cold, but inside, there’s nothing but warmth, love, and the soft promise of many more Christmases spent like this—together, with your little family.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Gonna need a nando x reader one shot where reader gets insanely jealous maybe she over hears her cousin she doesn’t like very much talking about nando but reader and nando aren’t together at this point I don’t know you make the plot up just want angst and fluff to end again please 🙏

"More Than Enough"

It was another one of those family gatherings where you felt like a pawn in the game of comparison and judgment. You'd known your relatives your whole life, but their words and looks always made you feel small, insignificant—like you never quite measured up to their expectations.

Most of the time, you learned to tune them out. But tonight, with Fernando Alonso present, it was harder than ever to do so.From a young age, your family had made you feel like you were always on the outside.

Your cousin Isabella, with her perfect, airbrushed life, was a constant reminder that you were never good enough in their eyes. She was everything they wanted you to be—outgoing, confident, always polished. And you? Well, you were quieter. You preferred books over parties, simple joys over social status. In your family’s eyes, you were invisible, a wallflower.And then there was Fernando.

He wasn’t a stranger to you. You and Nando had been friends for years, but in the last few months, something between you had changed. There had been stolen glances, moments where his eyes lingered just a little longer than necessary.

He would brush your arm by accident, but the way his touch lingered made your heart flutter. You weren’t sure if he felt the same, but you had started to see him in a new light. It was terrifying. You couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if he knew how much you cared for him.

What if he didn’t feel the same? What if he drifted away, and you lost the one constant thing in your life?Tonight, you had tried your best to avoid the reality of your emotions, burying them deep inside, but it was hard when you kept stealing glances at Nando across the room. His laughter, his infectious smile, the way his eyes seemed to search for yours in the crowd—it was all too much to ignore.

Every time you saw him, it felt like your heart skipped a beat. But you were scared, scared that these feelings would destroy your friendship.The tension between you and your family had always been palpable. Your parents, though not overtly cruel, would always make remarks that cut deep. You were never good enough in their eyes—your grades, your career choices, your social life—it was never up to their standards. And every time you left a family gathering, you felt worse about yourself than when you arrived.But Isabella? She was different.

She was everything your family praised. And when it came to Fernando? She made no secret of the fact that she thought she was the only one worthy of him.You had overheard her before, making passive-aggressive comments about your friendship with Nando. Tonight was no different.

You were in the kitchen, trying to escape the chaos of your family, when you heard Isabella’s voice from the living room.

You froze, your hands stilling as you tried to listen."Did you see Fernando today?" Isabella was saying, her tone too sweet for comfort. "He’s just… gorgeous, isn’t he? So perfect. And I’m sure he could have anyone.

But you know, some people don't even know how to show interest."

Your heart twisted painfully, a pang of jealousy you hadn’t realized was growing inside you suddenly bursting to the surface. You stood still, your body frozen, and listened to her laugh, the sound of it like nails on a chalkboard.

"And," she continued with a casual air, "I bet if I tried, I could take him away from her, don’t you think?"Your chest tightened at her words. Her—she meant you.

She always did.

You felt your hands tremble with frustration and hurt, but you didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she had struck a nerve.

You had to hold it together.You’d never told Fernando how you felt. You never would, not after everything your family had made you believe about yourself. You weren’t worthy of someone like him. Not with someone like Isabella around.

The rest of the evening was a blur. Your family’s loud chatter filled the room, but your mind was elsewhere—on the words that still echoed in your mind and on Fernando, who seemed to be a constant presence, even when he wasn’t right in front of you.

Every time you caught his eye, he would smile softly, and every time your gaze drifted to him, his eyes would linger just a moment too long.

You couldn’t figure it out—was it just friendly affection, or was there something more?Your heart ached, torn between wanting to tell him how you felt and the fear that it would ruin everything.

Finally, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You needed space. You slipped out the back door of the house and into the cool night air, hoping to breathe away the suffocating feeling that seemed to surround you. You stood there, staring out into the darkness, trying to push back the tears that were threatening to spill.

That’s when you heard footsteps behind you."Y/N?"You turned around, startled to see Fernando standing there, his eyes full of concern.

"What’s wrong? You look upset."You tried to smile, but it came out weak

"It’s nothing, Nando. Just… family stuff."

You waved it off, hoping he wouldn’t press further.But Nando wasn’t one to let things go so easily, especially when it came to you. He stepped closer, his hand gently brushing your arm.

"Talk to me," he said softly.

"What’s really going on?"The floodgates opened, and you found yourself spilling everything to him—everything about your family, your cousin, your insecurities.

You told him about how Isabella had always made you feel inferior, how your family’s constant criticism made you feel worthless.

You looked at Nando, expecting him to pull away, to let you go, but instead, he pulled you into his arms.“Y/N," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You are so much more than enough. I don’t care about Isabella, I don’t care about your family. You are perfect just the way you are.”Your heart shattered with relief as you felt the warmth of his embrace, his words washing over you like a balm.

He pulled back, looking into your eyes with so much tenderness that you felt your knees weaken. “Listen to me,” he said firmly. “I’ve always admired you, more than anyone. Don’t ever let anyone make you feel small. Especially her.”

For a moment, you just stood there, stunned, taking in the softness in his eyes. You hadn’t realized how badly you needed to hear those words, how much you needed him to say them.“I… I don’t know what I’d do without you, Nando,” you whispered, your voice trembling.“You’ll never have to find out,” he promised, his hand gently caressing your cheek.

There was a long, charged silence before Nando stepped back, his eyes now filled with a different intensity. “I don’t care if anyone else sees it, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and purposeful.

“But I care about you. I’ve cared about you for a long time. And I want everyone to know it.”

Before you could even process what he meant, he reached for your hand and led you back inside, where the rest of your family was still gathered.

Isabella’s sharp gaze immediately found you both, but she couldn’t have known what was coming.Nando stood in the center of the room, pulling you gently to stand beside him.

All eyes were on you as he turned to face you, his grip on your hand tightening.“I know we’ve been friends for a long time,” he said, his voice clear and unwavering. “But I can’t hide it anymore. Y/N, you mean more to me than anyone else. Will you be mine? Will you be my girlfriend?”

The room fell silent as everyone’s eyes snapped to you, and for a brief moment, you felt like you were in a dream. But then Nando’s lips found yours in a soft, reassuring kiss, and you couldn’t have cared less about what anyone else thought.You kissed him back, your heart pounding with happiness and relief as the weight of everything you had been carrying melted away.When the kiss broke, Nando kept you close, his forehead resting against yours.

“You are more than enough,” he whispered. “Don’t ever forget that.”Isabella, who had been standing in the corner with a shocked expression, opened her mouth to say something, but before she could get a word out, Fernando’s voice cut through the tension.“And as for you,” he said, his tone suddenly cold and firm, “if you ever think you can come between me and the person I care about again, I suggest you think twice. Y/N is my choice. Always.”

Your heart swelled with love, and you knew, in that moment, that you were finally seen. Finally, enough.As the evening continued, you could feel the eyes of your family on you.

But it didn’t matter anymore. Because you were exactly where you belonged—in Fernando’s arms, with his love, and knowing that, finally, you were enough.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Ok hear me out… jealous Lando. You’re Landos best friend since childhood as you’re fathers are not only business partners but best friends since university and so and Lando spent a lot of time growing up and he never liked sharing you from Kindergarden during you’re first boyfriend until today he has a hard time when he thinks that someone could challenge his status as you’re favorite person it got better when Lando started traveling a lot and was in his own relationships but when he finds out that you’re seeing Kygo (the DJ) he try’s to hide his jealousy and be happy for his two friends thinking that it’s only an fling and won’t last long but as the months go on and the Miami GP comes around and you all spend the time together in the paddock and later an party Lando realizes that he was probably wrong and he can’t help but get extremely jealous.Much Love❤️

everyone knew except you two

Lando Norris had always been your constant. He was your best friend before you even knew what friendship meant. Your fathers had met in university, and through their shared love of racing and business, a bond had formed that would tie your lives together forever. As children, you and Lando had spent nearly every day together, from playdates at his family’s house to sleepovers at yours, both of you oblivious to how intertwined your lives were becoming.

It was never normal to have Lando around all the time, but you never knew life without him. He was the first person you ran to when you scraped your knee or when you passed your driving test, the first person you celebrated with when you aced a test. But it wasn’t just his presence you adored—it was his protectiveness. Lando was the one who always had your back, no matter what. Even as kids, he was fiercely protective, not just of your feelings, but of your heart.

From the very beginning, Lando made it clear: no one could have you but him.

There was that one time in kindergarten when a little boy named Max had tried to hold your hand during nap time. Lando—who was already a few months older than you—had stormed over to Max, pushed him away, and declared, “If you ever touch her again, I’ll make sure you can’t walk straight for a week.” Max, terrified, ran off, and Lando proudly sat next to you, holding your hand as if he’d just saved the world.

It wasn’t just that time. Throughout your childhood, whenever a boy had the audacity to show interest in you, Lando would find a way to intimidate them into backing off, sometimes even going as far as threatening them with his ‘impressive’ racing skills or inventing rumors about how he could get them into trouble. His jealousy was always there, but it was subtle, hidden beneath the surface of his grins and jokes.

As the years passed, though, the jealousy never faded—it only grew more complex.

As you grew older, you and Lando kept a tight bond, but something started to change when you reached high school. That’s when Lando first noticed how your attention shifted. The world became bigger, and so did your interests. You were no longer the child he could protect from the world’s dangers. Instead, you were blossoming into someone who had ideas, dreams, and, inevitably, love interests of your own.

Lando didn’t know what to do when you first got a boyfriend. He didn’t like it. But instead of voicing his concerns, he retreated into a grumpy shell. He told himself he was being ridiculous, that you deserved to date and be happy. But every time he saw you with him, laughing, smiling, Lando felt that old jealousy flare inside him, though he tried to bury it.

It wasn’t until you got your first kiss, under the glow of the streetlights in your neighborhood, that Lando’s jealousy reached its peak. You’d come back to his house, giddy and glowing, and he had acted like nothing was wrong. But inside, he had felt something shift that he didn’t know how to name.

“You kissed him, huh?” Lando had asked casually as he slouched on the couch, his eyes narrowing as you nodded, blushing slightly.

“Yeah… It was… nice,” you said, your voice soft.

Lando had nodded. “Well, just make sure you’re not going to regret it.” He’d quickly turned his head to the TV to avoid showing how hard his heart was beating.

But it wasn’t until you started seeing Kygo—the famous DJ—that things really began to change.

You and Lando had always shared everything, but there was something different about Kygo. He was a DJ, an internationally known figure, someone who moved in different circles than you and Lando had ever been a part of. At first, when you casually told Lando about him, he dismissed it. “He’s just a fling,” he had said, trying to sound convincing.

But as weeks turned into months, Lando realized that this wasn’t just a fling. You were serious about Kygo, and Lando was struggling to come to terms with the fact that this man—this stranger—was taking up more and more of your time and attention. Every time you’d show up to the paddock for a race or post photos on social media with Kygo, Lando felt like his place in your life was slowly being pushed to the edge.

He tried to hide it, to ignore the gnawing feeling of jealousy that made his stomach twist when he saw you smile at Kygo in a way that he hadn’t seen you smile at him in years. It wasn’t fair. He’d always been there for you. He had earned that smile, hadn’t he?

The Miami GP weekend was the tipping point for Lando. You, Lando, and Kygo had all decided to spend time together after the race. You were in the paddock, hanging out as friends, but Lando could see how much you and Kygo were enjoying each other’s company. The two of you had a chemistry that he couldn’t ignore. He tried to focus on the race, on his car, on the things he usually loved, but his mind kept wandering back to the way you laughed with Kygo, the way you touched his arm when you talked, how he had his arm draped around you like he owned you.

It made Lando’s blood boil.

Later that evening, the three of you went to a party. The music blared from the speakers, the crowd was a blur of flashing lights and people moving to the beat, but Lando’s attention was fixed on you. He couldn’t tear his gaze away. You looked stunning, laughing with Kygo, your hands brushing his shoulder as you danced.

Every time you and Kygo got too close, Lando felt the sharp stab of jealousy in his chest. He didn’t want to feel this way. He shouldn’t feel this way. But the truth was becoming undeniable. You were slipping away from him, and Lando couldn’t bear it.

At one point, you caught his eye across the room, your smile brightening. “Lando!” you called, waving him over. He forced a grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

You pulled him into the conversation with Kygo, your two worlds colliding, and Lando suddenly felt more like an outsider than ever before. Every time you laughed at something Kygo said, or when he leaned in close to whisper in your ear, it was like a knife twisting deeper into his heart.

“Are you okay?” you asked him later, once Kygo had stepped away to get drinks. “You’re being really quiet tonight.”

Lando didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to admit that he was jealous of his best friend’s boyfriend. That he didn’t want to share you with anyone.

“I’m fine,” he muttered. “Just tired, I guess.”

But you didn’t buy it. You could always tell when something was off with Lando. “You sure? You know you can tell me anything.”

Lando hesitated, his eyes flicking nervously to Kygo, who was now talking to someone else across the room.

“I guess I’m just… not used to seeing you like this,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “With him.”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Lando began, searching for the right words, “we’ve always been close. But now… now it’s like you’re distracted. I don’t know. I don’t like it.”

There was silence between you for a moment, and for the first time that night, you saw the vulnerability in his eyes.

“Lando,” you said softly, taking a step closer to him. “You’ll always be my best friend. Nothing’s going to change that.”

But Lando shook his head, his jaw tightening. “I don’t think you understand, Y/N. I don’t want to just be your best friend anymore. I can’t do it. I’ve always been there for you. But seeing you with him… it just… it hurts.”

And in that moment, Lando realized what he had known for years but had never allowed himself to admit. You were meant for him. And only him.

You stared at him for a long moment, your eyes wide with surprise and something else—realization. It was as if everything clicked into place for both of you in that instant.

“I… I didn’t know,” you whispered.

Lando took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay with you being with someone else. You’re meant to be with me.”

And there it was. The truth that neither of you had been brave enough to say until now.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Could you please write something with Lando when you’re Bradley Coopers daughter and you met Lando during an Grand Prix and have been dating for a few months and now it’s time for him too meet you’re dad for the first time and as you get ready you sense that he’s nervous you saw it on his face when you told him that you have a dinner in an high end New York restaurant with you’re dad and his girlfriend Gigi. You’re dad wanted to meet him as soon as he found out that you dated someone but Lando had some grace period with the season but no that the season came to an end he has no other chance you’re not particularly concerned about you’re dad. As you arrive at the Restaurant almost too late as Lando and you got caught up in a little make out session which almost ended in you being late. As it turns out Landos concerns where groundless in the end Lando gets even invited for dinner the day after Christmas you almost choke on you’re drink.❤️

It had been a few months since you and Lando started dating, and every day with him had been full of sparks, laughter, and more chemistry than you’d ever imagined. But tonight was different. Tonight, Lando was about to meet your dad for the first time. And though you knew your father was laid-back, charming, and would likely get along with anyone, you could sense the nerves in Lando.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Lando asked, running a hand through his already tousled hair, his voice laced with anxiety. “I mean, I’ve never done this before.”

You smiled gently, setting down your makeup brush to meet his gaze. “Lando, it’s just dinner. My dad’s cool. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

But the more you looked at him, the more you realized that Lando wasn’t just nervous. There was something deeper there. It wasn’t just about meeting your dad—it was about family.

Lando, you knew, had always been close to his own family. The love he had for his parents and sisters was apparent in every conversation you had. But family had always been complicated for him. It was his rock, his safe place, and something he cherished deeply. The idea of gaining your dad’s approval seemed almost too important to him. You could feel it radiating off of him, this quiet fear of not being good enough.

“You’ve always told me how important family is to you,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “This isn’t any different. My dad’s going to love you.”

Lando smiled weakly but didn’t say anything. You could tell his thoughts were racing. His gaze flicked to the door, then back to you. “I’ve never wanted to impress anyone this much,” he admitted quietly, almost like he didn’t want to say it out loud.

Your heart ached for him. He’d conquered the world of Formula 1 with ease, but this? Meeting your dad? It was a different kind of challenge.

Reaching up, you cupped his face in your hands, guiding his eyes to meet yours. “You’re already more than impressive to me,” you whispered, your voice soft but full of sincerity.

Lando exhaled slowly, his expression softening. For a brief moment, the world outside of the two of you seemed to fade away. His lips brushed against yours, slow and gentle, his touch warm and comforting.

“I really hope you’re right,” he murmured.

As the evening progressed, you and Lando rushed through the streets of New York, trying to make it to the restaurant on time. You hadn’t realized how distracted you both had become in the car—stolen kisses, whispered words, and the touch of his fingers against your skin had led to a few minutes of passion that made you almost forget about the dinner entirely.

“Shit, we’re going to be late,” you muttered under your breath, glancing at the time.

Lando chuckled softly, his hand slipping into yours as you both made your way up the stairs to the restaurant. “We’re always late,” he teased, though you could sense the nerves still swirling beneath his playful exterior.

When you entered the restaurant, your dad was already seated at a private table, along with his girlfriend, Gigi. Both of them stood up as you walked in, and you immediately noticed your dad’s relaxed smile, which only made you more confident that Lando would be fine. Gigi, ever the charming woman, gave you a warm smile as well.

But Lando? He was stiff as a board, his hands stuffed awkwardly into his pockets. His gaze flickered between you and your dad, looking almost like a deer caught in headlights. You squeezed his hand, trying to ground him.

“You’re doing great, Lando,” you murmured.

Your dad stood up, extending his hand to Lando. “Well, well. The man who’s been stealing my daughter away,” he said with a grin, but his tone was lighthearted, warm.

Lando froze for a moment, before finally offering a hand and shaking your dad’s firmly. His face flushed slightly, and he shot you a quick, uncertain glance, silently pleading for reassurance.

“It’s really good to meet you,” Lando said, his voice a little rough. “I’m… I’m a fan of yours.”

Your dad laughed heartily. “Glad to hear it. Hope I don’t disappoint,” he said, winking at you. “You’re welcome to join us. Gigi, Lando—this is my daughter’s new boyfriend. I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

It was only after the initial awkwardness that Lando seemed to relax a little. As dinner progressed, you could see how much he wanted to make a good impression. He was constantly attentive to your dad and Gigi, asking them questions, engaging in light-hearted conversation, all the while sending you glances that told you just how much he cared about what they thought of him.

When your dad excused himself to take a phone call, Gigi leaned toward you, her smile soft and encouraging.

“He’s nervous, huh?” she said quietly.

You nodded, watching Lando. “He really wants your approval,” you said, almost matter-of-factly. “He’s never felt this way before.”

Gigi’s gaze softened, understanding in her eyes. “He’s a keeper. I can see why you like him.”

The words meant more than you realized, and you shot Lando a small smile, his gaze flicking to yours. There was so much unspoken between the two of you, a deep connection that had only strengthened since you first met.

As the evening came to a close, and your dad and Gigi began discussing plans for the holiday, something unexpected happened. Your dad looked over at Lando, a warm grin playing at the corner of his lips.

“You know, we’re hosting a family gathering the day after Christmas,” he said casually. “It’d be great if you could come. Gigi and I would love to have you.”

Lando nearly choked on his drink. “Wait, really?” he asked, looking at you in disbelief.

You blinked in surprise, then smiled. “I think he’s asking you to join us.”

“I’d love to,” Lando stammered, clearly surprised by the sudden invitation. His eyes widened as he looked at you. “Your dad actually likes me?”

You laughed softly, nudging his knee under the table. “I told you, he’d be fine.”

Later that night, as you and Lando made your way back to your apartment, the tension between the two of you finally broke. Lando pulled you into his arms as soon as the door clicked shut behind you. His hands were shaking slightly, but when he kissed you, it was full of hunger and need, his lips soft but demanding.

“You have no idea how much this means to me,” he murmured against your lips, his breath warm and urgent. “I’ve never wanted anyone to like me this much.”

You kissed him harder, unable to stop the wave of emotion that surged through you. His hands moved lower, pulling you closer, his touch familiar yet still electrifying. He pushed you gently against the door, the kiss deepening, as if the release of his nervous energy needed to be channeled into something more.

And for the first time, you realized just how much you meant to each other. The night was just beginning, and you both knew it would be one to remember.

“You’re not just impressing them,” you whispered as you pulled away for a breath, your fingers trailing along the sharp line of his jaw. “You’re impressing me, Lando.”

His eyes darkened, and his lips curved into a smirk that spoke volumes. “Good. Because it’s only ever been you that matters the most.”

[verstappenf1lecccc]

the pain you bare for us

Lando sat at the edge of the bed, his hands trembling as they gripped his wife’s. The room was cold, the sterile smell of antiseptic stinging his nostrils, but all he could feel was the searing heat of his guilt. She was in pain, so much pain, and he couldn’t do anything to take it away. His heart raced, his pulse quickening with every desperate breath she took. Each gasp of hers felt like a sharp knife in his chest.

Her face twisted, the pain overwhelming her body, and Lando felt the terror in his gut deepening. His breath was ragged, his eyes wide, and the only thing he could focus on was her. Her, and the fragile, trembling life she was carrying—their life.

“Please, baby, you’re doing so well,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. His words, meant to comfort her, only seemed to falter in the face of her agony. He could see the sweat on her brow, her hands gripping his like a lifeline. Her nails dug into his skin, and he winced, but he didn’t let go. He couldn’t.

Another contraction hit, and she cried out, her body arcing up, her muscles straining. Lando’s eyes went wide with fear, his stomach tightening in a knot of dread. She gasped again, the sound of her pain tearing at him in ways he couldn’t explain. He didn’t know how to help her. Didn’t know how to make it stop.

And the worst part? This was his fault.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, though he knew she couldn’t hear him. “I’m so sorry for putting you through this.”

The guilt gnawed at him like an animal tearing at his insides. He’d wanted this. He’d begged for it. He wanted to be a father, to have a family—someone to share his life with. But now, as he watched the woman he loved more than anything in the world fight for her breath, fight to bring their child into this world, the reality of what he had asked of her hit him like a freight train.

He’d never imagined it would be like this.

Never imagined how raw and painful it would be for her, how deeply he would feel it, too. It was supposed to be a joyous occasion, a new beginning, but instead, all he felt was terror. What if something happens to her?

A flash of memories flooded his mind—memories of the documentary he’d watched not long before they’d even conceived. It was about childbirth, about the risks women faced every single day to bring new life into the world. His heart had clenched in horror as he watched the faces of mothers who didn’t make it, who didn’t survive the pain, the complications, the unpredictability of the process.

He had read about it too—the statistics. The women who died in childbirth because something went wrong. He couldn’t shake the images, the stories of mothers slipping away, leaving behind children, leaving behind husbands who never thought it would happen to them. And now, as he sat in this hospital room, his wife’s face twisted in agony, he could hear those voices echoing in his head.

What if I lose her? What if I lose them both?

His heart squeezed painfully. He couldn’t bear the thought of it. The thought of her never waking up from this, never holding their child, never laughing at their stupid jokes or dancing around their living room with him. The thought of coming home to an empty house, to a life without her—he couldn’t stand it.

“Lan…” Her voice broke through his thoughts, and he snapped back to the present.

Her eyes, filled with pain and fear, met his. She squeezed his hand so tightly, it almost hurt, but he didn’t mind.

“I can’t… I can’t do this…” she gasped between breaths, her face pale, her chest rising and falling erratically. “Lando, I can’t…”

“Shh… baby, you can. You are doing it. You’re so strong. You’re incredible,” he whispered, kissing her forehead, but even he could hear the desperation in his own voice.

His words sounded hollow, as if he were trying to convince both of them.

But he couldn’t help it. He was so scared.

Another contraction hit, and his wife cried out louder this time, her whole body wracked with the intensity of it. Lando leaned over, pressing his forehead to hers, and all he could do was whisper over and over.

“I love you. Please, I love you. Just breathe, love. Just breathe.”

She gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, her breath ragged and shallow, as if trying to hold on to him in the chaos of it all. The room seemed to spin around him, the beeping of the monitors sounding like they were coming from far away.

“Please… don’t leave me,” Lando whispered, his voice cracking, his tears now falling freely down his cheeks. He kissed her hand again, his heart pounding in his chest, the terror gripping him so tightly he could hardly breathe. “Please, don’t leave me…”

The words felt wrong, too heavy. He had never felt so helpless in his entire life.

Her eyes softened through the veil of pain, but the exhaustion was evident on her face. “I won’t… I won’t leave you…” she managed to say through gritted teeth.

But Lando wasn’t sure he could bear it. He wasn’t sure he could stand watching her suffer like this. It felt like his heart was being torn out of his chest. His mind raced back to all those women, the stories of those who didn’t survive. And in that moment, he knew one thing for certain.

He never, ever wanted to put her through this again.

No more children. This is enough.

“Lando… I can’t…” Her voice trembled, and tears welled in her eyes. “Please… don’t let me go through this again…”

The fear in her voice shattered him completely. She was so terrified. So exhausted. And he realized, she’s scared to die for me, for us. The weight of it crashed into him like a tidal wave.

Lando’s hand immediately cupped her face, his thumb gently tracing her cheek. His eyes were full of raw emotion—terror, love, and desperation.

“No, no more,” he said, his voice fierce, urgent. “I swear to you, after this, we are done. No more babies. I can’t watch you go through this again. I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

Her tear-filled eyes locked onto his, and he could see the fear there—the fear that she might never come out of this alive. She didn’t say anything, but Lando could feel the weight of her silent agreement.

“But you are my baby,” he continued, his voice dropping, becoming more serious, more raw, as he leaned in closer to her. “I’ll always worry. I’ll always care about you. Always.”

Her breath hitched at the depth of his words, and she nodded weakly, her lips trembling as she tried to offer him a weak smile. “I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered. “I’m not going to leave you.”

And as if the universe, in some small gesture of mercy, decided to give them a chance to breathe, the sound of their child’s first cry broke through the tension in the room. A sharp, fragile cry filled the space, followed by a soft, almost imperceptible whimper as the nurse placed the baby in Lando’s hands.

Lando stared down at their son, his chest heavy with fear and overwhelming love. He wasn’t sure if he could still feel his heartbeat, but in that moment, everything seemed to slow down. His son—their son—was alive.

He carefully handed the baby to her, his wife’s shaking hands taking their child, cradling him to her chest. She let out a soft sob of relief, and Lando couldn’t stop the tears that were flowing freely now. He watched her hold their son, the woman who had just gone through hell to bring this child into the world.

“I love you,” Lando whispered, his voice raw and thick with emotion. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she whispered back, her eyes red from exhaustion, but the tenderness in her gaze was unwavering. “I couldn’t do this without you…”

Lando kissed her forehead softly, his hand gently brushing against their newborn son’s tiny head. But deep inside, he knew this was the end for them. No more pain, no more risks, no more fear of losing each other. Their family was whole now. He would protect them, no matter what it took.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he promised, his voice steady as he gazed at both of them. His arms, filled with love, would never let them go.

But deep in his heart, he repeated a silent vow.

No more children. No more pain.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

AM!Fernando Alonso x wife reader. While all the drivers have their annual dj nee together, they have their own diner with the Strolls. Just what I know since him and Lance are not there. Maybe they had kid(s) (you decide) And Lance being their fav uncle. Spending time, banter, sweet. Anything. Thanks!! :))

I’m sorry this is out rather late!! I’m on vacay so hehe

A Night with the Strolls

The annual driver’s DJ night was in full swing, but Fernando had decided to take a different route this year. Instead of joining the usual crowd for the glitzy and glamorous event, he and his wife had a more intimate plan—dinner with the Stroll family. Lance, being a close friend and mentor to Fernando, was like family, and his wife had grown just as fond of him over the years. The kids, their two young children—Mateo, 6, and Isabella, 4—were more than excited to be spending the evening with Uncle Lance.

The evening was filled with laughter and playful banter as the children chased Lance around the house, calling him their personal jungle gym. Lance, with his larger-than-life personality, was their favorite playmate. His laughter was contagious, and they clung to him as though he was the most important person in their world.

“I think I’ve earned the title of ‘Best Uncle’ tonight,” Lance said with a grin, lifting Mateo into the air and giving him an exaggerated spin.

Fernando, watching from the couch with his wife beside him, couldn’t help but smile. “They’ll want you to take them on a road trip next, you know,” he teased, a proud glint in his eyes as his son clung to Lance’s neck.

“Why not? I’ll just kidnap them and take them away for a few days. They’ll love it,” Lance joked, raising both kids high and making airplane sounds.

Fernando’s wife, sitting quietly next to him, couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace as she watched the scene unfold. The laughter of their children, the light-hearted teasing between Lance and Fernando, and the warmth of the Strolls’ family felt like a dream. She had never imagined a life like this. Coming from a broken home, where love had often felt uncertain and fleeting, she never thought she would find herself in the kind of family that Fernando had created. But here she was, surrounded by the kind of warmth and stability she had always longed for.

She turned to Fernando, her heart full. “Look at them,” she said softly, her voice filled with quiet admiration. “They’re so happy. I never thought I would find a family like this.”

Fernando smiled, his gaze never leaving her as he leaned closer. “You gave me everything I never knew I needed. I’m the lucky one.”

As the evening progressed, they shared moments of quiet connection. The kids ran around, laughing and playing, while Fernando and his wife enjoyed the peace and comfort of each other’s company. At one point, Fernando leaned in closer to his wife, his hand finding hers on the table. Their fingers intertwined naturally, as though they had always belonged there.

“Do you ever think about how we ended up here?” Fernando asked, his voice low, almost as if speaking to himself.

She looked at him, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I think about it all the time,” she replied. “I never imagined I could be this happy, this… whole. When I was younger, love always seemed so fleeting, like something that couldn’t last. But now, with you, it’s different. I feel safe. I feel like I’ve found my home.”

Fernando’s gaze softened as he took a breath, pulling her hand closer to his lips. He kissed the back of her hand, a gesture of love so simple yet so profound. “I was lost, you know. In all the glitz and glamor of racing, the fame, the attention… none of it felt real. None of it meant anything until I found you. You made me feel like I finally had a place, a purpose. When I met you, I finally felt like I was home.”

Her heart melted at his words. She had always known he was a passionate and driven man, but hearing him speak so vulnerably touched her in a way that no victory on the racetrack ever could. “You are my home too, Fernando,” she whispered. “You and our children. There’s nowhere else I would rather be.”

The connection between them was palpable, a silent understanding that, despite the world around them, this was their safe space, their place of love and trust. He leaned in then, brushing his lips gently against hers in a kiss that felt like a promise. Soft, tender, yet full of all the love he held for her.

They pulled away, but Fernando’s hand lingered on her cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of her jawline. “You are everything to me,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “More than I could ever ask for. I will always choose you. Always.”

Her eyes shimmered with love as she gazed at him, feeling the depth of his devotion in every word. “And I will always choose you,” she said, her voice steady but full of affection. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Fernando.”

As the evening wore on, the kids grew tired, and Lance’s playful energy began to wind down. They all gathered around the table, enjoying a quiet meal together. Mateo had managed to convince Lance to tell them a new story, a tale of knights and dragons, and even Isabella, usually quiet during dinner, listened with wide-eyed wonder.

Fernando’s wife watched them, taking in the sight of the Stroll family. Lance, ever the jokester, had always been there for Fernando, and it was clear to her how much Lance admired his friend, not just as a teammate, but as a role model, a father figure.

Fernando had often told her that he had always been close to Lance, but she hadn’t realized just how deep their bond ran. Lance saw Fernando as more than just a colleague. He saw him as a mentor, a guide, someone who had been like a brother to him. When they were younger, Lance had looked up to Fernando—admired his success, his drive, and his unwavering loyalty to those he loved. Over time, that admiration had blossomed into a deep friendship, and now, it was clear that Lance adored Fernando like a father.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, man,” Lance had said more than once. “You’ve taught me more than just racing—you’ve taught me what it means to be a man of integrity, to be a good person.”

Fernando had always brushed it off with a laugh, but deep down, he knew how much Lance’s words meant. He had always tried to be a good role model, not just for his kids, but for the people in his life. And seeing Lance with his children—how the kids gravitated toward him, how he genuinely loved them like they were his own—touched him more than he could ever express.

Later, when the kids had been tucked into bed, and the house was quiet, Fernando and his wife took a moment to sit outside on the patio. The stars above them seemed to twinkle in the soft night sky, and a light breeze stirred the air. Fernando pulled her into his arms, wrapping his jacket around her as she nestled closer.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft and full of love, “I’d like to have another child. A third one. What do you think?”

Her gaze met his, and she felt a mix of love and uncertainty. “I would love that, Fernando, but I’m not sure I can go through it all again. After… everything we’ve been through. I’m scared.”

Fernando’s expression softened as he kissed the top of her head, his arms tightening around her in a protective embrace. “You don’t have to be scared. Whatever we decide, I’m here with you. And no matter how many children we have, we’ll have everything we need because we have each other. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her heart swelled at his words. She had always known Fernando was a strong man—on the track, in the spotlight, and in their home—but it was moments like this, when his vulnerability shone through, that made her love him even more.

“I love you so much, Fernando,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “You make me feel safe. You make me feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

His lips brushed against her forehead, a soft kiss that spoke of love, of promises made, and of the beautiful life they had created together. “And I will always love you, mi amor. You are my everything.”

As the night continued, Fernando and his wife held each other close, their hearts full of love, their bond stronger than ever. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of their family and the quiet of the night, they both knew that no matter what the future held, as long as they had each other, they were home.