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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.

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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.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Sooooo could I please request a long one shot with Charles x reader I just really fell in love with this pic I mean look at him😍.. I want something by really angsty like maybe reader has made him jealous or he’s giving the reader the silent treatment I want angst and fluff and a happy ending please

A Dance of Jealousy

The club was alive with the pulse of music, the dance floor buzzing with energy as bodies swayed to the beat, flashing lights illuminating the faces of those who sought both pleasure and escape. But for you, the world seemed to fade away, your mind fixated on the sight in front of you—the sight of Vanessa, a woman you barely knew, sitting on Charles’s lap, laughing as if the two of them shared some intimate joke. The very sight of it churned something deep in your stomach, a feeling of jealousy mixed with something far more painful—rejection.

You thought you had a place in his life, even if that place wasn’t clearly defined. But in that moment, watching her cling to him in that bold, confident way, something shifted. The flicker of your heartache turned into a cold, gnawing emptiness. You couldn’t sit there, watch them, and do nothing. So, you left.

As you pushed your way through the crowd, heading to the dance floor, your heart hammered in your chest. The music throbbed in your ears, its rhythm steady and loud as if trying to drown out the bitterness seeping into your thoughts. You moved as though the music controlled your body, the deep, repetitive bass matching the pulse of your emotions as you danced harder and faster. The energy of the crowd around you was a temporary escape from the knot tightening in your chest, but then, Max appeared.

Maximilian VERSTAPPEN —a mafia leader with more power than most could ever dream of—had been making his interest in you known for weeks. He was smooth, charming, and manipulative in ways you couldn’t entirely ignore, even though you never let him get too close. But tonight, in your state of heightened emotions, you couldn’t find the strength to push him away.

Before you could protest, he was pulling you into a dance, his hands at your waist, guiding your movements as though he owned you. His touch was too familiar, too intimate, and you felt your body betray you as you let yourself go, your frustration manifesting in a frantic, almost reckless performance. Max’s eyes never left you, his grin widening as he felt your resistance crumble, but then, just when you thought it was enough, his hand slid lower, dangerously so, and his lips brushed against your ear.

Your stomach turned in protest. This wasn’t you. This wasn’t how you wanted to feel, yet the pressure of everything—the jealousy, the feeling of being replaced, of being dismissed—made it hard to resist. The touch of another man, the blatant disregard for your boundaries, was too much. The last straw was Max’s lips at your neck, a move that felt invasive, crossing a line you weren’t prepared to let anyone cross.

That was when Charles arrived.

His presence, like a thunderstorm rolling in on a clear day, swept over the dance floor. His eyes, dark and stormy, locked onto you. His jaw clenched, and in one fluid movement, he shoved Max aside. Max staggered back, confusion and shock in his eyes, but Charles didn’t even spare him another glance. All his focus was on you.

“I take my eyes off you for one second,” Charles’s voice was low, rough with anger. “And you fall into another man’s arms?”

You didn’t have the courage to respond. How could you? The anger in his voice matched the fury in your chest, but it was different—this was the anger of someone who claimed ownership, someone who wasn’t accustomed to being crossed. His gaze pierced you, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe.

Charles’s hand was like iron as he gripped your arm, pulling you through the crowd without a word. You stumbled behind him, the weight of his fury settling heavily on your shoulders. People watched, some whispering, others frozen, unsure whether they should intervene.

You were too dazed to care, caught in the tight coil of your emotions. All you wanted was to escape, to find some corner of peace. But Charles wasn’t done. Not yet.

The ride to the car was a blur. He was silent, his jaw clenched as he led you to the backseat of his car with such intensity that you barely noticed the cold night air until you were seated inside. The door slammed shut, and then, the engine roared to life. You tried to speak, but no words came out.

Charles didn’t look at you. Not once. His eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. It felt like hours had passed, and yet not a word had been spoken. His silence was suffocating.

Was he mad at you? You knew he was. But the longer he stayed quiet, the harder it became to breathe. Silence was something you feared more than anything else. It felt like abandonment, like being invisible. Growing up, silence had always meant something was wrong—something was about to happen, something bad. A shift in the atmosphere, a tension in the air that signaled the worst.

And now, in the suffocating silence of the car, you were left to stew in your own thoughts, each one darker than the last.

You didn’t realize it then, but your childhood had left a mark. You had grown up in a household where arguments were common, but what truly haunted you was the silence that followed. The long stretches of nothingness that felt like a punishment. No words, no reassurance. Just the suffocating stillness before everything fell apart.

You had always feared being ignored. It made you feel small, invisible, like you were nothing. It had made you strive for approval from others, trying desperately to avoid the loneliness that followed silence like a shadow.

But now, with Charles beside you, ignoring you with such intensity, the weight of that childhood fear crushed you. Had you done something wrong? Was he angry at you? You could feel the tears welling up, a sharp knot in your throat that you couldn’t swallow down.

And then, he accelerated. The car surged forward, the tires screeching as Charles drove faster and faster, the city lights blurring past you in a haze of fear. You gripped the seat, your heart racing, the anxiety gnawing at you. You couldn’t breathe. The speed, the silence, the tension—it all felt like too much.

“Charles, please,” you gasped, trying to steady yourself. “Slow down.”

He didn’t respond. He didn’t even glance at you. It only made the fear build higher, until your breath became shallow, and your hands started shaking. The silence between you two was deafening, suffocating.

And then, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You broke. Tears started streaming down your face, hot and desperate, your chest heaving with each sob. “Please… I’m sorry,” you sobbed. “I didn’t mean to…”

Finally, Charles’s grip on the wheel tightened even further, his eyes darkening with a mix of guilt and anger. He swerved the car off the main road and onto a deserted street, the engine growling in the silence as he slammed the brakes, the car screeching to a halt.

The tension in the car snapped, and for the first time, Charles turned his gaze to you—really looked at you. His eyes softened, the anger receding, but the hurt lingered.

“Don’t cry,” he muttered, his voice cracking slightly. His rough hands reached for you, cupping your face gently, brushing the tears from your cheeks. His touch was surprisingly tender, like he was trying to pull you back from the edge. “I didn’t want to scare you.”

“I’m scared of being ignored,” you whispered through your sobs, your voice trembling. “Of being invisible. It reminds me of… of my childhood. The silence. When people stopped talking to me, I felt like I was nothing.”

Charles’s expression softened with understanding. His thumb brushed over your skin again, his gaze unwavering. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know it hurt you like that.” His voice dropped to a whisper, the rawness of his emotion evident in every word. “I just… I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

You felt a mix of relief and uncertainty. You had never expected Charles to be so open, so vulnerable. It was as if the storm had passed and the silence between you no longer felt like an accusation.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered back, reaching for his hand, pulling it to your chest. “I’m not leaving you, Charles. I just… I didn’t know you’d be so mad. I didn’t know I meant so much to you.”

Charles stared at you, his face etched with a blend of frustration and longing. Finally, he let out a deep sigh, rubbing his thumb across your hand in slow, deliberate motions. “I’m jealous, okay? Of Max. Of anyone who dares to touch you. You’re mine, and I’ve been too damn stupid to admit it.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. The intensity of his confession hit you in waves, and suddenly, everything you’d feared seemed to dissolve. He wasn’t angry at you—he was angry because he cared so damn much.

“Charles…” you whispered, the words thick in your throat. “I’m yours, too.”

The car’s engine purred quietly now, the sharp screech of tires and the rush of speed replaced by a lingering tension in the air. The night’s events still felt like a storm, too raw, too overwhelming, but in the silence that surrounded you both now, something had shifted. It wasn’t just the apology—it was more than that. Charles had peeled back a layer of his guarded exterior, something you had never seen before.

The car’s engine idled in the silence, the world outside completely still. It felt like time had stopped. You and Charles were left in the aftermath of the storm, the tension still hanging between you like a thick fog.

But it wasn’t just anger that had brought you here. It was the fear—the kind of fear you couldn’t escape, no matter how hard you tried to swallow it down. Fear of being ignored, of feeling invisible again. It had haunted you your whole life, and it was the one thing that made your chest tighten the most.

Charles, sensing the depth of your emotions, softened slightly, though his features were still tight with tension. He looked at you, his jaw still clenched, but now, his gaze was filled with something else—understanding. Slowly, he reached over, his rough hand brushing against yours.

“I’m not going to ignore you,” he said, his voice low and sincere, his eyes never leaving yours.

You flinched, your body trembling at the words, and a fresh wave of tears filled your eyes. You could feel the lump in your throat threatening to choke you. “I don’t want to be ignored,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I’ve felt invisible for so long… like I don’t matter. I just… I don’t want that with you, Charles. I don’t want to feel like I’m nothing.”

Charles’s eyes softened, and for the first time that night, you saw the vulnerability in him. The walls he had built around himself seemed to crack just a little. He reached up, cupping your face in his large hands, gently brushing away the tears that continued to fall.

“I didn’t realize it hurt you like that,” he murmured, his voice a soft contradiction to the fierce man you had known all this time. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

But then, something inside you broke. It was like all the pent-up emotions—years of insecurity and loneliness—came rushing out in a flood. You couldn’t stop yourself now. You needed him to understand.

“Growing up,” you began, your voice trembling, “it was always like that. The silence. The moments when everything stopped, and I was left alone in it. I would do something wrong, or I wouldn’t say the right thing, and then… nothing. No words. No love. Just cold silence.”

Charles’s expression hardened as he took in your words. “I didn’t know,” he said softly, his voice cracking with the weight of what you had just shared.

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the floodgates open as everything you had buried deep inside poured out. “It was always the silence that terrified me. The idea of not mattering enough to even be noticed. I thought… I thought that if I wasn’t perfect, if I wasn’t seen, then I didn’t exist. That no one would care. I’ve always been terrified of that.” Your voice broke, and the tears kept coming, but this time, they felt different. They felt like a release.

Charles didn’t say anything at first. He just held you, his arms wrapping around you tightly, pulling you against his chest, as though he could shield you from the pain of your past. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his tone filled with regret. “I’ll never ignore you, not like that. You’re not invisible to me. You matter. You always have.”

You buried your face against his shirt, your fingers gripping the fabric as if you could anchor yourself to him. “Please… promise me you won’t ignore me. Promise me you won’t leave me alone like that.”

He pulled back slightly to look you in the eyes, his expression fierce, but there was tenderness in the way he held you. “I swear,” he said firmly. “I won’t ever let you feel like that again. Not with me. You’re not invisible, not to me.”

You exhaled, the weight of the fear lifting just a little. His words, his touch, his presence—it all reassured you in a way you hadn’t realized you needed.

But then, something shifted in his gaze. A darkness settled over him as he looked at you, his jaw tight once more. “And Max,” he growled, the fury from earlier resurfacing in his eyes. “He’ll never touch you again. I’ll make sure of that.”

You flinched, instinctively pulling away from the intensity in his voice. “Charles… please don’t hurt him,” you whispered. “I just wanted to escape, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I shouldn’t have danced with him.”

Charles’s face softened, but his grip on you didn’t loosen. “It’s not your fault. Max crossed a line, and he won’t get away with it. He made a mistake, thinking he could have you. And now he’s going to regret it.”

The possessiveness in his voice was clear, and although it sent a thrill through you, a part of you still felt uneasy about the extreme lengths he was willing to go to. But then you remembered—this was Charles. A man who had built his life on power and control. And no one, not even Max, would take what was his.

“You don’t need to do anything,” you whispered, reaching up to touch his face gently. “I just want us to be okay. I want to feel like I belong… with you.”

Charles stared at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment before his lips parted, his voice thick with emotion. “You do belong with me,” he said quietly. “You’ve always belonged with me. And I’m not going to let anything take you away from me.”

The sincerity in his voice was unmistakable, and it sent a jolt through you. You knew that Charles would do anything to keep you close, to protect you, but this—this was different. It was raw, real, and terrifying in its intensity. You had never expected this side of him.

But it felt right. It felt like you were finally seen. Finally understood.

As the silence settled again, this time it was different. There were no unspoken fears between you now. There was only understanding, and the promise of something more.

Charles let out a slow breath, his gaze softening as he leaned forward, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ll make sure you never feel invisible again,” he said, his voice quiet but unwavering. “You’re mine. And no one—no one—will take you from me.”

In that moment, everything in you calmed. The storm had passed, and now, in his arms, you felt safe. You weren’t invisible anymore. You had a place. You had a home, and it was with Charles.

And as the car sat quietly in the night, you realized that you weren’t afraid anymore. Not of the silence, not of the fear, and not of the future. Because with him, you knew you were finally where you belonged.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

From p:

Toto Wolff with fem!reader. They have been together long enough for him to propose to her. With Jack's help of course. The boy has come to love her since you're always paying attention to him and just being there. She had a good relationship with Susie and always had girl night with her and other WAGs. Toto couldn't imagine not having her in his life. Event leading to their wedding day. The usual stuff; fitting dress/suit, prep, bridesmaid/grooms. With the grid (she's their grid mom to everyone) If you want to separate both parts, do it. I don't mind. Fluff/suggestive. Thanks!!!

The Proposal

It was the little moments with you that made Toto Wolff fall deeper and deeper in love. The soft touch of your hand against his when you walked side by side through the paddock, the way you’d laugh at his dry jokes, and the comfort he found in the way you effortlessly interacted with the people who were closest to him—especially his son, Jack. These moments, though small to the world, were the ones that made his heart swell. He had never imagined that someone would slip so naturally into his life, into his world, and make it better.

The relationship had started slowly, at first as just a friendship. You had been working with the team as a liaison for sponsors, a role that often had you spending time with both Toto and Susie at events. Your first conversation with Toto had been a brief discussion over some minor logistics, but something clicked. You had an effortless way of connecting with people, especially with him, and before long, you were meeting for coffee after long days at the track, discussing everything from racing to your shared love of obscure books. It wasn’t long before the conversations moved to something deeper—your personal lives, your dreams, your frustrations.

And somewhere between those late-night talks, long walks in the quiet of the evening, and shared glances, something shifted. It wasn’t fireworks or grand gestures. It was quiet, like the soft hum of something inevitable, something you both knew but didn’t have to say. Until one night, when Toto, looking at you with an intensity in his eyes that made your heart race, kissed you. It was gentle at first, his lips brushing against yours as if testing the waters, but when you kissed him back, everything changed. The world around you disappeared, leaving only him, only you.

It didn’t take long for you both to realize you had become inseparable. It wasn’t just about love—it was about the way your hearts had intertwined without either of you trying. You were the calm in his chaos, the one who could make him laugh even on the hardest days. You knew how to give Jack the attention he craved, not as a stepmother or a replacement, but as someone who cared deeply for him and wanted to be part of his life. Toto had watched with admiration as you built a relationship with his son, one that was filled with understanding and patience. The way Jack looked at you—like you were someone he could trust, someone who truly understood him—only made Toto fall deeper in love with you.

And then there was Susie. Susie had always been the center of their world, the one who held everything together. It wasn’t just a friendship that formed between you and her; it was a bond, a connection of two women who had both seen the highs and lows of life and understood each other completely. Your girls’ nights were something Susie looked forward to as much as you did. Whether it was a quiet evening at home or an impromptu getaway, your presence in their lives felt like a breath of fresh air. Toto had noticed, and he couldn’t help but be grateful.

Now, after years of being together, Toto found himself thinking of the future, thinking of you as the woman who would be by his side for the rest of his life. He couldn’t imagine a day without you, a world where you weren’t there to share the good and the bad. The thought of marrying you filled him with a warmth he hadn’t known was possible. And so, with Jack’s eager help, he set his plan into motion.

The ring was perfect, something he had spent months searching for—something as beautiful as you. It was an antique, a vintage piece that had been passed down through a family, its center stone a rich, deep blue sapphire, surrounded by diamonds. He had felt it was the perfect representation of you—unique, rare, and breathtaking.

Before he could even think about the proposal itself, there was one thing he needed to do. It had been on his mind ever since he realized he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you: he needed to ask your father for his blessing.

Toto had always respected you, but this was different. He wanted to do this right. He wanted to show you how much he valued your family, how much he cherished the bond the two of you had built. So, one evening, he drove out to your father’s house. It was a quiet, modest place, nestled on the outskirts of town, and Toto felt the weight of the moment as he approached the door.

Your father greeted him warmly, but Toto could sense the underlying tension. It wasn’t that your father didn’t like him—he respected Toto. But there was a certain protectiveness he had over you, as any father would. They sat in the living room, and Toto, despite his calm demeanor, found himself nervous.

“Toto,” your father began, leaning forward slightly. “You’ve been a part of our lives for a while now. And I’ve seen how you look after my daughter. You’re good to her. But you know, a father’s concern never really goes away.”

Toto nodded, understanding the depth of your father’s words. “I love her,” he said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. “I can’t imagine my life without her. I want to take care of her, to be there for her in every way possible.”

The silence stretched between them for a moment before your father stood, walked over, and placed a hand on Toto’s shoulder. “Then I give you my blessing,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Make her happy, Toto. That’s all I ask.”

Toto’s heart swelled in that moment, knowing he had just been given one of the greatest gifts of all—the blessing of the man who had been there for you your entire life. With a grateful nod, Toto stood, shook your father’s hand, and made his way home. The next step was clear: he would ask you to marry him.

The night of the proposal came soon after. He had planned it all—an intimate evening on the lakeside, just the two of you. The sun was setting, casting a soft golden glow on the water as you walked side by side, hand in hand, oblivious to the excitement bubbling inside Toto’s chest. Jack was hidden nearby, a big grin on his face, ready to join in when the moment came.

“Toto,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “What’s going on? You seem…different tonight.”

He turned to you, his eyes full of affection. “I’ve been thinking,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I’ve spent so much of my life racing, chasing after things I thought I needed. But what I’ve realized is that the only thing I truly need is you. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

He dropped to one knee, his eyes never leaving yours, and in that moment, everything else faded away. Jack appeared from behind a tree, holding the ring in a small box, his grin widening as he saw your surprised expression.

“Will you marry me?” Toto asked, his voice full of love and anticipation.

You blinked, your heart hammering in your chest. “Yes,” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. “Yes, of course.”

Jack rushed forward, his arms wrapping around both of you in an embrace that felt like the culmination of years of love, of family, of shared moments.

The Wedding

Wedding planning was a whirlwind of excitement, stress, and joy. You worked with Susie, of course, and the two of you had countless girls’ nights where you would go over details, laugh, and just enjoy each other’s company. Your relationship with her had become even more important as the wedding drew near. She was your confidante, your sounding board, your partner in crime.

The dress fitting was one of those moments you would never forget. When you first stepped into the bridal shop, the world seemed to pause. The gown—simple, elegant, but still breathtaking—was everything you had imagined. It hugged your body perfectly, the lace overlay and satin fabric giving you an ethereal quality. Susie and your bridesmaids stood around you, their eyes wide as they saw you in it.

“You look absolutely stunning,” Susie whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

As you turned to the mirror, you couldn’t help but smile. This was the dress, the one you would wear when you married Toto. It was almost surreal, the reality of it all settling in. Your heart fluttered as you thought about the man who would be waiting for you at the altar.

The day of the wedding was filled with love and laughter, as you and Toto prepared for the big moment. Jack stood by Toto’s side as his best man, both of them looking handsome in their suits. Your bridesmaids surrounded you as you stood at the altar, your heart racing as you saw Toto waiting for you, a proud smile on his face.

The ceremony was intimate, full of love and joy. You both exchanged vows, your voices trembling as you promised to be there for each other, to cherish each moment together. When the moment came, Toto placed the ring on your finger, his hands steady despite the emotions swirling between you.

The reception was a celebration of everything you had built together—family, love, and the promise of forever. Toto held you close as you danced, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I love you. I will love you for the rest of my life.”

And as the night continued, filled with laughter and the warm glow of friendship and family, you knew that your love story had only just begun. The life you had built together was a masterpiece, one you would cherish for all your days.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

heyy now that the seasons over i was just going and rereading old fics, i just wanted to ask if there would still be a part 2 to your lewis story? would love to read it <33

hello angel!! it’s been out for ages it’s titled the secret kiss on my masterlist it’s part two for the lewis fic :)) my fics aren’t getting reached to many users so I understand why people think it’s not out :)

[verstappenf1lecccc]

if you go I go

Dr. Oscar Piastri had always been a man of few words, his life dominated by the cold precision of surgery and the quiet solitude that came with being the best in his field. Yet, when he met you, everything changed. You were the light to his dark, the calm in his storm. You filled the silence of his world with laughter, joy, and warmth. To Oscar, you were everything—the pulse that kept him going, the reason he woke up every morning. He loved you more than words could express.

The two of you had been married for two years, and it was your wedding anniversary. Oscar was known for being meticulous, but even he couldn’t keep up with the chaos of the day. As much as he wanted to surprise you, he had been so focused on work and the pressures of his surgical career that he’d forgotten to plan. You, being the loving and understanding wife, had taken it upon yourself to surprise him with a gift—a token of your love for him.

It was early in the afternoon when you decided to go out. You had picked out a sleek, beautiful wristwatch for him, something to mark the special occasion, and you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he opened it. He had always worn the same old, worn-out watch, and you knew he’d love the new one.

But fate had other plans. As you were driving home, a car ran a red light, crashing into your vehicle with a terrifying force. The impact was deafening. The world around you spun out of control as the car flipped, the screech of metal on metal and the shattering of glass echoed in your ears. You tried to scream, but the pain—sharp, sudden, and all-consuming—cut off your breath. Your head collided violently with the steering wheel, and the world went dark.

Oscar’s day was just beginning to take a turn when his phone rang. At first, he thought it was another case, a consultation, or an update. But when he saw the name of the hospital flash on the screen, a chill ran down his spine. The voice on the other end was calm, clinical—but Oscar could hear the faint tremor, the underlying urgency that spoke volumes. His heart sank when he heard your name. He didn’t need to hear the details; the panic that gripped him in that moment told him everything he needed to know.

Without hesitation, he rushed to the hospital. The drive was a blur, his heart pounding in his chest, his thoughts racing. He couldn’t even remember the route he took, but all that mattered was getting to you. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong.

When he arrived, the first thing he saw was the stretcher—the one carrying you, the love of his life. The sight of you, so pale, so still, sent a wave of panic crashing through him. He wasn’t sure if he could breathe, or if his legs would even hold him up. The world around him felt like it was collapsing. His perfect, peaceful world had been torn apart in a split second, and all he could do was watch as they wheeled you past him, unconscious and battered. The stretcher was stained with blood, and Oscar’s heart clenched, his thoughts spiraling into an abyss.

“Oscar, we need you in the OR,” a nurse called out, snapping him out of his trance.

Oscar nodded, but his eyes never left you. He followed the team as they rushed you into a trauma room. The fear in his chest was suffocating, but he forced himself to push it down. He couldn’t break down. Not here. Not now.

Once inside, the beeping of monitors filled the room, a steady rhythm that seemed to mock him with its mechanical nature. He was no longer the detached surgeon—the one who had learned to separate himself from his emotions. As he looked at you, barely recognizable from the blood and bruises, all the walls he’d carefully built around his heart began to crumble.

Your breathing was labored. A blood-soaked bandage was wrapped around your head, but it wasn’t enough to stop the bleeding. You had fractured ribs and internal injuries, but it was the internal hemorrhage that worried him the most. A small tear in one of your arteries had gone unnoticed earlier, and now it was slowly, quietly, tearing you apart from the inside.

Oscar could feel his hands trembling as he worked quickly to assess the damage, each moment more desperate than the last. His mind was a mess, but he had to keep it together. He had to save you.

But seeing you like this—the woman who had been his sunshine, his reason for waking up every day—made him feel more helpless than he’d ever been. His wife, his world, was slipping away, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. His professional mask was shattering, piece by piece, as his panic threatened to overwhelm him.

He was a doctor. He had saved countless lives. But you? You were different. You were his. The thought of losing you was unbearable.

And then, in the sterile chaos of the trauma room, when he couldn’t keep his emotions in check anymore, the words escaped him, a whispered confession that broke the silence.

“I don’t want you to die,” Oscar muttered, his voice rough with emotion. His hands shook as he held the scalpel, his mind racing with terror. “I can’t lose you. You’re all that I have…”

There was no response from you, only the steady hum of the machines and the frantic activity around him. But Oscar couldn’t stop. He worked tirelessly, desperately, knowing every second was a battle for your life.

The next few hours were a blur, but in the depths of his mind, he couldn’t shake the haunting thought that he was about to lose everything.

Somehow, against all odds, you made it through. The surgery had stopped the bleeding, and though the road to recovery would be long and uncertain, you were alive. But for Oscar, the terror of nearly losing you didn’t go away so easily. The fear still clung to him, gnawing at him in the quiet moments, in the spaces between breaths.

Months had passed since that day, but the memories never fully left him. They lingered, haunting him in the dark corners of his mind. And on one particularly restless night, the memories came crashing down with full force.

Oscar awoke suddenly, drenched in cold sweat, his heart pounding in his chest. The nightmare had been so vivid, so real, that he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had lost you all over again. In the dream, you were gone, your blood spilling out in front of him, his hands unable to stop it. He had been too late, and in the horror of that realization, his world had turned to ash. No colors, no joy, just a hollow, aching void.

He sat up in bed, gasping for breath, his chest tight, his hands trembling. His pulse was erratic, and the cold sweat clung to him like a second skin. The nightmare felt like a cruel replay of his deepest fear, and it made him feel helpless, powerless, and empty in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to feel since the day you were injured.

His heart was heavy, and despite his desperate attempts to calm himself, he couldn’t escape the feelings of loss and dread that had consumed him. He slowly slid out of bed, careful not to wake you, and stumbled down the hallway to the living room, where he collapsed onto the couch. His body shook as the sobs he’d been holding back for months finally broke free.

He was a doctor. He was supposed to be strong, unshakable. But right now, in the silence of his home, with the memory of that nightmare still fresh, Oscar felt completely shattered.

You awoke to the cold emptiness of your bed. The space beside you was vacant, and a chill swept through your chest as you noticed Oscar was gone. Panic stirred in your heart. You knew something wasn’t right. As you slipped out of bed, your bare feet padded softly across the floor, the house eerily quiet, save for the soft sniffling you could hear coming from the living room.

When you found him, the sight of him—slumped on the couch, his face buried in his hands—broke you. Oscar, the stoic, the composed, was in pieces, vulnerable in a way you had never seen before.

His body trembled as he cried, a raw, heartbreaking sound that shattered your heart. You knelt beside him, your hands gently touching his shoulders.

“Oscar…” you whispered, your voice filled with concern. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

He looked up at you, his eyes bloodshot, his face streaked with tears. For the first time in months, he allowed himself to feel it all—the fear, the grief, the terror of losing you again.

“I’m so scared,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I saw you… I saw you die, and I couldn’t do anything. I don’t know how to live in a world where I’ve lost you. I don’t know how to breathe without you.” His hands gripped your shirt as though he were afraid you would slip away again.

You pulled him close, wrapping your arms around him, holding him tightly against you.

“I’m here, Oscar,” you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion. “I’m right here. And I’m never leaving you. You won’t lose me, I promise. We’ll face this together, always.”

Oscar let out a shaky breath, his body relaxing slightly in your arms. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured. “I was so scared… I thought I was going to lose you forever.”

“You don’t deserve this pain, Oscar,” you whispered, your fingers gently stroking his hair as he clung to you, the warmth of his body pressing against yours like a lifeline. “But you do deserve me, and I’m not going anywhere. You’ll never lose me. I promise.”

He pulled back slightly, looking up at you, his eyes raw and red from crying. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, his professional armor was gone. There was no mask of calm detachment, no wall of control. There was only Oscar—the vulnerable, terrified man who had almost lost the love of his life and couldn’t bear the thought of living without you.

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” Oscar said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re the only thing that makes sense in this chaotic world. Every day I wake up and I see you beside me, and it’s like the world is okay again. But when I lost you… I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. Everything went dark. I couldn’t stop it… and I still can’t shake that fear.”

You gently cupped his face, guiding his eyes back to yours. His hands trembled against your skin as if he were afraid to let go of you, to face the world without you by his side.

“You don’t have to fight this fear alone,” you whispered, your voice filled with tenderness. “I’m here, Oscar. I’ll always be here. You can lean on me. We’re stronger together. We’ll always find a way through the dark, no matter how much it hurts.”

Oscar’s lips parted, his gaze softening as he searched your face, looking for reassurance in the depths of your eyes. For a brief moment, the frantic anxiety that had consumed him faded, replaced by the quiet comfort of your presence. He took a shaky breath, his hands finding yours, holding them with an almost desperate intensity.

“I thought… I thought if I lost you, everything would shatter,” he admitted, his voice almost a whisper. “But then I realized something. I don’t have to face this alone. We face it together. You’re not just my wife. You’re my strength, my heart, my reason to keep going. And I’ll never let that go. I’ll never let you go.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you leaned in, kissing him gently on the forehead. “And I’ll never let you go, Oscar. You’re my heart, too. Without you, I wouldn’t be whole. We’re a team, always. Together, we’re unbreakable.”

A moment of silence passed, thick with the weight of everything unsaid. But in that silence, there was a peace—an understanding that neither of you could imagine life without the other. The fear, the pain, and the scars of that near-loss would always be a part of you both. But it wasn’t the end. Not now. Not ever.

Oscar closed his eyes for a moment, his face buried in your neck as he finally allowed himself to rest, to let go of the suffocating anxiety that had gripped him so tightly for months. He felt the warmth of your arms around him, the steady beat of your heart, and for the first time in so long, he let himself breathe.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, but full of emotion. “I love you more than I’ll ever be able to say. Thank you for not giving up on me.”

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice soft but unwavering. “Always. And I’ll never give up on you. We’re in this together.”

For a long while, neither of you spoke, content to just hold each other, to let the quiet calm of the moment fill the empty spaces where fear and grief had once lived. Slowly, the tension began to leave Oscar’s body, his breathing evening out as he finally allowed himself to relax in your embrace.

The nightmares that had haunted him for months didn’t vanish overnight. But in your arms, he found something he had lost: hope. The kind of hope that only love could give. He knew the road ahead would still be hard, that the scars would never fully fade. But as long as you were by his side, he could face anything.

Oscar gently pulled away, his eyes searching yours with a softness that only you could bring out of him. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, fragile but real.

“I’m so glad you’re still here,” he murmured, his hands holding yours. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

You smiled, your heart full of love. “You never have to find out. I’m not going anywhere, Oscar. Not now, not ever.”

And as you both sat there, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s embrace, you realized just how deep your love ran. It had been tested, scarred, and nearly shattered, but through it all, you had come out the other side stronger, more united than ever.

Because without each other, neither of you would have survived.

But with each other, you were unstoppable.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Could you please write something with Fernando and you’re Ayrton Sennas daughter but you where only three when he died. Growing up you didn’t have much to do with Formula 1 until Alain took you to an Price ceremony in the early 2000s where you met an young Fernando you’re pretty sure there is still a picture somewhere. If someone would have told you you would end up marrying an F1 driver let alone that you would have a son you would have told them you’re crazy but the universe had other plans for you and so by the time Fernando finally retires you have a three year old which loves cars over everything with unruly curly hair and an crooked smile and as it is the last race you decide too take him with you too Abu Dhabi he deserves too see his Dad drive atleast once live and so he ends up sitting in the dark green Aston Martin grinning from ear too ear gripping the steering wheel before Fernando picks him up again you’re heart arches you love them so much without Fernando you probably wouldn’t have seen the positive side of everyone all the joy and celebrations and you’re thankful for that.❤️

Racing Through Timeline

this fic made me emotional idk why hope yalls enjoy it

Life has a strange way of unfolding, often in ways that are impossible to predict. You were just three years old when your father, the legendary Ayrton Senna, tragically passed away at Imola. That day, the racing world lost a giant, and so did you—a little girl who would never truly know the father whose name was spoken with reverence, whose legacy became a symbol of passion, talent, and greatness. Ayrton Senna wasn’t just a driver; he was a legend, a man who lived for the thrill of the race, and yet, for you, he was merely a memory—a faint echo in the stories your mother would tell, in the photos, the videos, and the occasional piece of memorabilia. Your father’s world was a place you could never fully grasp, and it wasn’t until later that you began to understand the depth of his impact on the sport and the hearts of those who followed him.

In those early years, Formula 1 felt like a foreign, distant world. The roaring engines, the bright lights, the high-speed cars racing across tracks—it all seemed so far removed from your small, quiet life. Your mother, though always gentle with you, would speak of your father in hushed tones, always reverent, always holding a certain sadness in her voice. She would tell you stories about his passion for racing—how he would approach the track like an artist, crafting perfect lines, how he could feel the rhythm of the car in a way no one else could. But to you, these were just stories, tales from a past you couldn’t truly touch, and as the years passed, the pain of losing him became something you could only feel in the gaps between your mother’s words and the quiet spaces in your life.

But life, as it does, sometimes finds a way to bring the past crashing back into the present. It was Alain Prost, your father’s fiercest rival, who became the person who helped bridge the gap between the man you never knew and the world of racing you would one day come to embrace. Alain wasn’t just a figure from your father’s past—he became a quiet protector, someone who, over the years, guided you through the complexities of your own grief. His affection for you was not loud or extravagant, but steady and unwavering, always there when you needed him. He never pushed you into the racing world, but he always made sure you knew the importance of your father’s legacy.

It was Alain who invited you to a Prize Ceremony in the early 2000s, a grand affair that would forever change the course of your life. You were still a teenager then, unsure of what you were stepping into, but Alain insisted you needed to witness the respect and admiration that your father had earned, to see for yourself the impact he had made on the sport. It was there, in that glittering, surreal world, that you first met Fernando Alonso.

He was young then, still climbing the ranks of Formula 1, but there was something magnetic about him. He spoke about racing with the same fire in his eyes that your father had, the same passion and drive that had defined your father’s career. It wasn’t just his talent that caught your attention; it was the energy he exuded when he talked about the sport. You could feel the same intensity, the same love for the track that you had heard about in your mother’s stories, and for the first time in years, you felt a connection to your father’s world. Fernando didn’t know it then, but his energy, his joy, his spirit, ignited something inside you—a spark that would soon become a fire.

As time passed, you lived your life, far removed from the high-speed, adrenaline-filled world of Formula 1. You followed your own dreams, built your own life, and found a quiet peace in the simplicity of it all. But life, as it often does, has a way of bringing you full circle. Fernando had risen to the top of the sport. He was no longer just a rising star but a champion, someone whose name was known by millions. And then, unexpectedly, your paths crossed again.

When you saw Fernando again, you were both older, different in ways you hadn’t expected. Yet, the connection between you was undeniable. He was no longer just a racer you admired from afar—he was someone who saw you for who you were, who understood the delicate balance between your father’s legacy and your desire to create a life of your own. Your shared passion for racing and the quiet bond between you grew into something far deeper than either of you anticipated. Over time, you found yourself drawn closer to Fernando, not just as a racer, but as a man who was grounded, steady, and full of life. And before you knew it, you had fallen in love with him—not just for his passion for the sport, but for his kindness, his love for life, and the way he made you feel alive in ways you hadn’t felt in years.

Fernando’s proposal was simple, yet profoundly meaningful. One quiet evening, you were sitting on the balcony of your home, the soft hum of the world outside a gentle backdrop. Fernando, ever thoughtful, looked at you with those same eyes that had first captured your attention years ago. He didn’t need grand gestures. There were no cameras, no grand stage—just the two of you. In that moment, he held out a small, simple ring and asked you to marry him. It wasn’t the fireworks of a big public proposal, but it was perfect. It was real, it was intimate, and it was everything you needed. Your heart soared as you realized that this life, the life you’d always dreamed of, was finally falling into place.

The years that followed were filled with quiet moments of joy and profound love. Despite his demanding career, Fernando was always there for you—his presence a steady rock in your life. When you were expecting your son, Fernando became even more attentive, staying by your side through every milestone of your pregnancy. The late-night conversations, the small touches, the way he would softly whisper to your belly, telling your unborn child how much he loved them—it was the kind of love that you had always imagined, but never truly believed you would experience.

When your son was born, it felt like the world had finally aligned. He was the perfect combination of both you and Fernando—a perfect little human, with eyes that shone with the same mischievous sparkle as his father’s. You would spend quiet afternoons watching Fernando hold him, cradling him in his arms as though he was the most precious thing in the world. Those soft moments—when Fernando would softly kiss your son’s forehead, or when he would lay next to you, both of you wrapped in the warmth of your family—were the kind of moments that made every sacrifice, every challenge, worthwhile.

Yet as time moved on, a new chapter began to loom on the horizon—Fernando’s last race. As the years passed, you had known this moment would eventually arrive. The talk of retirement had been subtle, but it was clear. Fernando had achieved everything he had set out to do. But even then, it wasn’t an easy decision. He had dedicated his life to the sport, and stepping away was not something he could do lightly. But then came the moment that changed everything: you kissed him, as you always did, before a race—your touch soft, your love palpable. It was just another pre-race ritual, another tender gesture between two people who had shared so much together. But as you pulled back from that kiss, something shifted in Fernando. A realization took root in him. He knew, at that moment, that his heart was ready to retire. He had made his mark, and now, he was ready to build the next chapter of his life with you and your son. That kiss, that moment, was the milestone that allowed him to finally walk away from the track he had loved so much.

When Fernando’s last race arrived, the emotions were overwhelming—not just for him, but for you too. As you stood in the stands, watching him in his final race, you couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of pride, sadness, and nostalgia. Every lap felt like a piece of his soul was being left behind on that track. You remembered your father’s legacy—how you had wished you could have been there for his last race. But now, you were witnessing Fernando’s final lap. There was something incredibly emotional about seeing him finish, knowing that this would be the last time you would see him race at the highest level.

You watched him cross the finish line, and it was as though time stood still. The roar of the crowd, the flashing lights, the cheers—it was all distant. All you could focus on was Fernando’s face, the quiet reflection in his eyes, the understanding that this was the end of one era and the beginning of another. You could feel your heart swell with both love and a deep sense of loss. You had witnessed something monumental, not just as his wife, but as someone who had walked alongside him through the highs and lows of his career.

As you held your son in your arms, the tears welled up. You thought of your father’s own last race and wished, just once, you could have been there to see it. But now, as you looked at your husband, your son nestled between the two of you, you realized that you had witnessed something even more precious—a man who had lived his dream, who had dedicated everything to the sport he loved, and who now stood beside his family, ready for the next chapter. You smiled through your tears, knowing that the legacy of racing would always be a part of your life, but that this was just the beginning of something even more beautiful. Fernando was no longer just a racer; he was your partner, the father of your child, and the man who would shape the future in ways that racing never could.

As the sun set on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the racetrack, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. You had always known that the world of racing was unpredictable, filled with highs and lows, victories and losses. But now, looking at Fernando, you realized that what truly mattered was not the wins or the trophies. It was the quiet moments like this, the ones spent together, the ones that would shape the family you were building.

Fernando gently kissed the top of your son’s head, his eyes soft with love. “He’s going to grow up knowing what it means to chase your dreams, just like his mom and dad,” he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

You nodded, feeling a swell of pride. “He’s already learning from the best,” you whispered.

As the three of you stood there, the world of racing slipping away in the background, you knew that this was only the beginning. The track may have been where Fernando had earned his name, but now it was at home, in your hearts, where the real legacy would live on.

And as your son grew, you hoped he would always carry the lessons of passion, perseverance, and love. You and Fernando would teach him to dream big, to face challenges head-on, and to never forget the importance of family. The racing world might have given Fernando his start, but it was his love for you and your son that would propel him forward in ways the racetrack never could. The future was unwritten, and together, you were ready to write it.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

I’ve never been this emotional over a F1 season.

i am just so overwhelmed i will miss this season goodbye Kmag goodbye Zhou goodbye Bottas goodbye Franco goodbye Checo

sainz and ferrari and lewis in merc is going to end me

goodbye 2024 season you were traumatic and scary but at the end you were beautiful

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Toto Wolff with wife reader. Feat their son, Jack. She had some sort of trouble breathing but didn't want to alarm Toto or anyone else. Because they're busy preparing for the races. Even other drivers & WAGs ask her if she's alright. Ask me if you want more insight. Thanks!! :)) With prompts :

1)"My chest really... hurts..."

2)"I can't really breathe -"

3)"Don't you dare pass out on me."

4)"Careful you don't fall - gotcha!"

You can choose how many you want to use.

You can choose how many you want to use

Ps : from p✌🏻

“Breathless”

i will always write p’s requests first! hope you like it p

The sun had barely risen over the Silverstone circuit, casting a golden glow across the track as cars roared to life in the distance. It was race day, the culmination of months of tireless effort, strategies, and sacrifices. Every member of the Mercedes team, from the engineers to the drivers to the WAGs, was on edge. But it was a different kind of nervousness for you, the wife of Toto Wolff.

Toto was deep in his preparations, leading the team as always, focused and composed. He had the weight of the world on his shoulders as the team’s success and his drivers’ performance depended on the decisions made in those crucial final moments before the race. But you… you were struggling, and he had no idea.

As the day progressed, the increasing pressure of the crowd and the weight of the upcoming race only made it harder for you to breathe. It started off small—just a bit of tightness in your chest—but over time it became harder to ignore. The subtle discomfort bloomed into something much worse, sharp pangs slicing through your ribcage, leaving you gasping for air. You found it harder to breathe, each inhale feeling like you were suffocating, but you refused to let it show. You couldn’t. Not now. Not when Toto had so much to focus on. He couldn’t know.

You sat quietly in the hospitality area, surrounded by the other wives and girlfriends of the drivers, but you barely heard their chatter over the pounding in your ears. You could feel their concerned glances on you, but you forced a smile, clutching your chest and taking slow, shallow breaths, praying it would pass. The last thing you wanted was to be a distraction.

As you sipped your water, Jack, your young son, came over to you, his little face full of concern.

“Mommy, are you okay?” Jack asked, his innocent voice bringing warmth to your heart, even though your chest burned with every passing second.

You forced a smile, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just a little tired, that’s all.”

Jack seemed to buy it, but the others weren’t so easily fooled.

One of the other drivers’ wives, Sophie, leaned in, her face etched with worry. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked gently. “You don’t look well.”

You nodded quickly, trying to mask the pain behind a veil of reassurance. “I’m fine, just… just a bit lightheaded. Nothing to worry about.”

But Sophie didn’t seem convinced. She glanced at you, and you could tell she wanted to say more, but she was interrupted by the loud rumble of an engine firing up on the track.

The tightness in your chest worsened, and you pressed a hand to your ribs, trying to steady your breathing. But it felt impossible. You were suffocating, and the air just wasn’t enough.

You stood up abruptly, trying to mask your discomfort by pretending to stretch. But it only made things worse. Your vision blurred, the edges of the world fading as you tried to push through it. Your breaths became shallow, faster, more frantic. A cold sweat broke out on your forehead, and you stumbled forward, nearly collapsing into the arms of another WAG, who immediately caught you.

“Okay, that’s it,” Sophie said, her voice now filled with urgency. “You’re not fine. Let me get help.”

You shook your head weakly, panic rising in your chest, but you couldn’t argue anymore. Everything was spiraling out of control.

Meanwhile, Toto was deep in a team meeting, his mind on the race, on the strategy, on the stakes ahead. He was so close to achieving his dream for the season, but in the back of his mind, he always made sure to check in on you. Even now, he felt a strange unease tug at him, but he brushed it off. The day was too important.

But then, the call came.

“Toto, it’s your wife. You need to come now,” Sophie said, her voice thick with panic.

His heart stopped, a sinking feeling dropping to the pit of his stomach. He bolted from the room, his legs carrying him faster than he ever thought possible. He had no idea what was happening, but the tone in Sophie’s voice was enough to make his blood run cold.

When he arrived at the hospitality suite, the sight of you, pale and struggling for air, made his chest tighten in an instant. You were leaning against a table, breathing erratically, your hand clutching at your ribs as though you were trying to hold yourself together.

“Toto,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. “I’m sorry… I didn’t want to worry you…”

Toto’s face went ashen, his eyes wide with fear. “Don’t you dare pass out on me,” he growled, kneeling beside you, gripping your shoulders with a desperation you’d never seen from him before. “Please… just breathe, breathe with me.”

You gasped for air, but it was no use. Your chest constricted even more, the pain unbearable. A cold sweat drenched your skin, and you felt like you were slipping away. You couldn’t breathe.

Toto’s voice broke through the fog of panic, his hands shaking as he pressed you against his chest. “Stay with me, love. Stay with me. I can’t lose you.”

The next few moments were a blur. Paramedics rushed in, lifting you onto a stretcher and into the ambulance, Toto never leaving your side. He was frantic now, a man out of control, his mind racing with fear as he clutched your hand, whispering reassurances he didn’t believe himself. He was terrified.

In the ambulance, the oxygen mask was placed over your face, but the damage had been done. Your heart, strained under the pressure, had given out. You had suffered a heart attack—an event that felt so sudden, so unexpected. The pain, the tightness, the feeling of being trapped in your own body—it all made sense now. But the fear in Toto’s eyes, the way he cried quietly while holding your hand, that was something you couldn’t have prepared for.

“I need you, please,” Toto muttered, his voice raw with emotion. “I can’t do this without you.”

You fought for consciousness, focusing on the steady rise and fall of the oxygen as it filled your lungs. Slowly, the tightness eased, and you managed to open your eyes. The first thing you saw was Toto, his face streaked with tears, his expression torn apart with anguish. And then you saw Jack, standing beside him, his little hands clutching his father’s pant leg, looking up at you with eyes wide in fear.

You squeezed Toto’s hand weakly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m okay… I’m here.”

Toto’s entire body shuddered as he breathed in, the relief on his face immediate, but his hands remained tight around yours. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, tears welling up in your own eyes now. “I didn’t want you to worry. I just… I didn’t want to be a distraction. Not today.”

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, his voice low and full of emotion. “You are my world, you are my priority. Everything else can wait. Don’t you ever try to protect me from your pain again. I can’t lose you.”

Toto’s words, raw and vulnerable, tore through you. You had been so determined to stay strong for him, for Jack, for the team. But now, in this moment, you realized that the only thing that mattered was the people you loved.

And you were going to fight for them.

Fight for your life. Because Toto Wolff couldn’t lose his family.

And neither could you.

@pear-1206

[verstappenf1lecccc]

can crofty please stop it. it’s been 3 years since then. stop bringing it up it’s annoying and unnecessary.

also them commenting on the max and George thing the British media bias is disturbing and disgusting I swear they will kiss his ass and hate max for life

[verstappenf1lecccc]

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK I AM SO HAPPY AND IN SHOCK

[verstappenf1lecccc]

i stand with VERSTAPPEN’s rights and wrongs but honestly I don’t believe RUSSEL one bit.

He looks two faced and has been proven to be one. can’t wait till this plays out