And If I Stay? ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ What began as a casual fling turns complicated when feelings get involved.
Shots of rakija ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Meeting your family for the first time, Max finds himself surrounded by the lively chaos of your Balkan home.
Home is you ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Max isn’t the same at home as he is on track. He’s softer, clingier, and endlessly distracting. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Ms. and Mrs. Verstappen ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ A " good girl" hits her breaking point, walks away from everything, and finds herself in Vegas and in Max Verstappen’s bed, with a wedding ring on her finger.
Home for Christmas ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Years after ghosting everyone, you come home for Christmas only for your car to die in a snowstorm. The only contact left in your phone? Max Verstappen.
First Move ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Having never been in a real relationship before Max, you had no idea how to be a girlfriend or what the "right" moves even were.
Shared Custody ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Fresh move-in and your indoor cat is already sneaking to the balcony next door for her bengal boyfriend.
Rivals ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ After a crash where you and your teammate-rival Max take each other out, you hide how badly shaken and dizzy you really are, but he comes to take care of you.
Y/N's boyfriend ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Max flies across the world to surprise you at your Grand Slam final, only to get way too competitive in the stands and completely forgetting he’s not the one competing.
Perfection ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ She ruined herself chasing perfection. With nothing left to lose, she makes one last reckless decision and wakes up carrying a consequence she can’t outrun: she’s pregnant with Max Verstappen’s child.
One Room, Two Enemies ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ You and your enemy-teammate Max Verstappen accidentally eat aphrodisiac chocolate at a boring gala, then get "forced" to share a hotel room.
Oscar Piastri
Taken Down by Destiny ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ At her best friend’s wedding, you're determined to avoid romance, avoid the bouquet, and avoid any emotional nonsense. Unfortunately for you, the bouquet find you anyway and so does Max Verstappen after a very unfortunate run-in with a bathroom door.
Enemies with benefits | MV3 ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ After a leaked video involving rivals Y/N and Max Verstappen, both are forced into damage control by their PR teams, a fake relationship that neither of them can handle.
Unfinished Business ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ I. II. III. IV. V. Alpine’s hope, McLaren’s champion. She was there, he was gone. Years later, old tensions resurface, and some stories are far from over.
Edge of Rivalry ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Two sports. Two egos. One long game of who breaks first and neither of them plays to lose.
Little Things That Matter ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ After a bad grade leaves her feeling down, her boyfriend shows up, determined to cheer her up.
Shot Your Shot SMAU ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Oscar likes tennis and maybe Y/N too. He never made a move, just watched, liked, and stayed quiet until Lando made his.
Golden Boy ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ The grid crowned Oscar Piastri the most innocent, most vanilla driver in F1. If only they knew what he’d just finished doing to you.
Familiar Strangers ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ You and Oscar once knew everything about each other : every secret, fear, and dream of a shared future. But dreams pulled you apart, and ten years of silence turned you into complete strangers meeting again back home.
Secrets ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Being the daughter of Nico Rosberg means you have to keep your relationship with Oscar Piastri extremely private. So you’ve been super careful, until one night in the paddock you let your guard down just once and get caught by Lewis Hamilton.
Lando Norris
Loud & Anonymous ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ in which your neighbor is a "wannabe DJ" who keeps the bass pounding all night, making it impossible for you to study.
Champions ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ When they were two kids with big dreams, they made a promise: to silently support each other, no words, no contact, just showing up in the stands, until both of them made it. And they did.
Uninvited ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Never anyone's first choice, not in childhood, not now. Another uninvite from your "friend group" leaves you crying at 3 a.m.
Zero ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ You have to explain to your boyfriend that LN1 will turn into jokes, because it reads as ln(1), which equals zero.
Charles Leclerc
Bush Man ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ I. II. It was supposed to be an ordinary night.Just a walk home after the club, the familiar silence of Monaco in the early hours.But then you found him. In your bush. And nothing about that night or the morning was normal.
Checkmate ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ as the gap in the championship narrows, Charles knows he has only one option left: to seduce her.
Lewis Hamilton
Miss Independent ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ You’re the kind of woman who doesn’t need anyone: independent, self-sufficient, and unshakable. Three and a half years with Lewis Hamilton haven’t changed that until one lazy, rainy day.
Big Fish ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ She's told there's no saying no tonight, not to the richest client she's ever had. Mid-action, she freezes, bursts into tears, and completely falls apart in the client's lap. Tomorrow: fired. Or so she thinks.
Lucky Charm ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ You were known as a lucky charm, somehow, whoever you supported always seemed to win. The rumor brought more sponsorships, more invitations, and eventually a race weekend with Scuderia Ferrari… where you ended up cheering for Lewis Hamilton
SUMMARY: After weeks apart, Max and you finally have a whole evening to yourselves at home.
PAIRING: max verstappen x reader
It was a while since both of you weren’t busy and could spend days together in peace. Max was home earlier and had tried (and failed) to make you something to eat, but he quickly gave up and ordered your favorite pizza instead.
When you finally walked through the door, you were happier than you’d been in days. The second your shoes were kicked off, Max was there, pulling you into a tight hug, lifting you clean off the ground and spinning you slowly while you wrapped your legs around his waist.
“I missed you so much,” he murmured into your ear, his voice low and warm against your skin.
You laughed, burying your face in his neck for a second before tapping his shoulder. “Max, let me down, I need to change first.”
He groaned dramatically but set you down, stealing one quick kiss before you could escape. When you came back from the bedroom in your comfy shorts and one of his Red Bull t-shirts, Max had already set the pizza box on the living room. He was sitting there waiting for you with that soft little smile he only ever wore at home.
You didn’t want the couch tonight. So you dropped straight onto the carpet and tugged him down beside you, your legs immediately tangling with his.
The two of you ate like teenagers: laughing, talking over each other, stealing bites from each other’s slices. The TV was on in the background but neither of you was really watching. It felt like the whole world had slowed down just for you two.
You waited until Max was reaching for his drink, then snatched the final piece and bolted, already taking a huge bite as you ran.
“Oi!” Max shouted, laughter in his voice. “That’s mine!”
You squealed and took off through the apartment, barefoot and giggling, the stolen slice held high like a trophy while you tried to shove more of it in your mouth. Max was right behind you, chasing you around the kitchen island, then down the hallway.
“Get back here!”
You dodged around the corner, nearly slipping on the wooden floor, but his longer legs caught up fast. Just as you reached the bedroom doorway, his arms wrapped around your waist and he lifted you off the ground again, both of you tumbling onto the bed in a mess of limbs and laughter.
He pinned you down gently, straddling your hips, and immediately started tickling your sides.
“Max, stop!” you gasped between laughs, trying to squirm away but only succeeding in wrapping your legs around him tighter.
“Where’s the slice?” he demanded, grinning down at you, his hair messy from the chase.
“I don’t know,” you said innocently, even though your mouth was still full and you were clearly chewing. A tiny bit of sauce was on the corner of your lip.
Max’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Liar.” He leaned down and kissed the corner of your mouth, stealing the last taste of pizza and making you laugh even harder.
You tried to push him off but he just collapsed beside you instead, pulling you against his chest. His hand slipped under the t-shirt to rest warmly on your back, thumb brushing lazy circles on your skin.
“I hate when we’re both so busy,” you whispered, tracing a finger over the logo on his shirt.
“Me too,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “But right now? I’m not letting you out of this bed for at least three days.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Three whole days?”
“Mhm.” He rolled you over so you were halfway on top of him, his arms locking around you like he really meant it. “We’re making up for lost time. Pizza, movies, no alarms… and I’m definitely stealing all your clothes so you have to stay in my shirts.”
You snorted. “You already do that.”
He smirked. “Exactly. It’s working.”
You poked his ribs for revenge, which started another mini wrestling match: half tickling, half kissing, until you were both breathless and tangled in the sheets. Max eventually gave up and just held you close, his chin resting on top of your head.
“Missed this,” he said quietly, all the playfulness softening into something deeper.
You pressed your face into his chest, breathing him in. “Me too.”
Life update: In the last few days, I've been at a wedding (I'm Balkan, so weddings are basically 3-day events lol). Yesterday I watched the race with my phone under the table, I left the wedding at 5 a.m., slept for a few hours, and now I have to go to "work" (it's an internship) in the middle of the worst heatwave. I've been trying to finish an Oscar fic for a week and I'm getting nowhere 😭
The concept of putting real people to read fics about themselves...There’s a reason we keep fanfiction in its own space. It’s RPF, you’re not supposed to shove it in the faces of the actual people it’s written about.
heyy Mia, I just wanted to say that I really liked the banners you made for your summer trip stories and I was hoping to know the name of the font you used on the titles....
Heyy! Thank you, so glad you liked them! 🫶🏻 It's actually a Canva font combination called 'Not old, vintage'. But if you want to look for the fonts manually, the header font is EFCO Brookshire and the small text is Anaktoria.
every time i reread a fic i wrote before hitting post, i instantly start overthinking. "what a silly idea," "is this too cringe?"
but then I have to remind myself: I loved the concept. I had fun writing it for myself, and that’s what matters most. I keep posting because maybe, just maybe, someone out there will see my vision exactly the way i did. yeah, sometimes it’s totally unrealistic, but hey, it’s fiction. anything I want to happen can happen.
SUMMARY: After Lando’s latest PR mess, you were sent to scold him again. The talk turned into flirting, and you ended up agreeing to a “demonstration” in his driver’s room in exchange for him behaving the rest of the season.
PAIRING: lando norris x reader
WARNINGS: explicit sexual content (MDNI!!), oral sex ( f receiving) divider: @uzmacchiato
Your phone started buzzing and you already knew what it was. Only two months on McLaren’s PR team and Lando Norris was already turning your life into chaos. You buried your face in the pillow for a few more minutes, refusing to let him ruin your morning right away. Eventually curiosity won and you opened the video.
It started innocently Lando in a club, but then the camera caught the t-shirt in full: “eat púšsy it’s vegan”. A surprised laugh escaped you before you could stop it. You quickly pressed your lips together. No. This is not funny.
The comments under McLaren’s posts were flooding in, most of them riding the vegan joke. People were being incredibly creative, but you knew the team was not amused.
Two days later, they sent you in to scold him. Again. By now it was routine, they kept choosing you because you two had become something like friends, you were close in age, and they thought he’d actually listen to you. They repeated the talking points one more time and sent you in.
Lando was already there, sitting in the small meeting room, phone in hand. He looked like a kid who knew he was in trouble but was still a little proud of himself. When you walked in, he put the phone down.
“Hi, Lando,” you said, sitting down across from him.
“Hey,” he replied, giving you a small smile.
You kept your voice steady and professional, exactly as they’d instructed.
“Lando, we cannot allow you to be seen wearing a t-shirt with such a message. It’s inappropriate, it damages the team’s public image, and it puts our sponsors in a very uncomfortable position. We have a responsibility to maintain professionalism, especially when you’re easily recognizable...”
You actually managed to stay serious through most of it. Lando was biting the inside of his cheek, trying not to smile. But the longer you spoke, the more ridiculous the whole situation felt.
“So from now on, we need you to think more carefully about what you wear when you might be filmed and...”
A small snort escaped you.
You tried to hold it together, but it was too late. Lando broke first, laughing, and then you followed, both of you cracking up.
“Wait ... I broke character,” you said, still laughing as you covered your face for a second. “Why do they keep sending me? They know I find this stuff funny instead of actually scolding you properly. You need someone who’s going to shake some sense into you.”
You tried to pull yourself together. “But seriously, we can’t have this. People online might find it funny, but it’s not good for the sponsors. You can do whatever you want in your free time, but you have to be smarter about who you’re with and what you’re doing when cameras are around. Okay?”
“Okay,” he said, still amused. “I’ll stop. I’ll be good, I promise.”
“That’s what you told me last time too,” you reminded him, half laughing, half serious. “I’m laughing with you, but I’m also serious. You understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said playfully. Then his tone shifted a little. “You know… I saw some old photos on your Instagram. You looked like a real party animal back then.”
Your eyebrows shot up. “What? Are you stalking my Instagram? And I still haven’t deleted those?”
“Oh come on,” he laughed. “I know you’re still a party girl at heart. It’s funny that you’re the one scolding me for having fun.”
“I’m not scolding you for having fun,” you said. “I’m scolding you because you got filmed wearing a t-shirt that says ‘eat pussy it’s vegan’. That’s not a good PR look, even if it’s funny.”
Lando leaned forward, smirking. “Come on… ‘eat pussy it’s vegan’? You have to admit it’s a good one.”
You shook your head, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah, it’s bold. So… you’re actually a munch?”
The question came out more direct than you intended, but you’d always been pretty straightforward with him.
“Yeah,” he said seriously. “I am.”
You felt your ears getting warm. “From what I’ve seen online, girls go crazy over that. So you might lose some points with PR, but you probably gained a lot in your DMs.”
Lando held your gaze. “Do you like it too?”
Your heart skipped. “What?”
“A guy who’s a munch,” he clarified, voice lower.
You swallowed, suddenly a little shy. “What woman doesn’t?”
He smiled slowly. “If you want a demonstration, you can verify whenever you want.”
Was Lando Norris actually flirting with you? Of course he was, he flirted with everyone. Still, you knew what type of guy he was. You weren’t about to fall for it.
“No, thank you,” you said quickly.
“Oh come on,” he pushed gently. “I know deep down you’re a fun person. That’s why they always send you. We have the same humor. You get me, even when you have to deliver all the PR lines.”
“And what exactly do you want from me, Lando?”
“To go out with me. Have some actual fun. I know you’re bored of this PR shit too.”
“Are you insane?” you asked, half laughing, half shocked. “Do you want me to lose my job?”
He clocked you immediately. “You’re not saying no because you’re not interested. You’re saying no because of the job.”
You opened your mouth, then closed it.
Lando leaned in with that dangerous little grin. “How about you come to my driver’s room for a little demonstration of my ‘vegan era’?”
You stared at him, completely caught off guard. A nervous laugh escaped you.
“You’re actually serious right now?”
“Dead serious,” he said, eyes locked on yours.
You shook your head, heart racing. “Lando… this is insane. I can’t just...”
“You can,” he cut in softly. “No one has to know. Thirty minutes. Just us.”
You bit your lip, looking away for a second. Every logical part of your brain was screaming at you to shut this down immediately. This was your job. Your reputation. Your future at McLaren. But there was also this stupid, curious, tired-of-being-responsible part of you that was… tempted.
You let out a long breath and rubbed your temple.
“I’m going to regret this,” you muttered.
Lando’s smirk grew, but he stayed quiet, letting you think. You looked back at him, serious now.
“Fine. But only if you swear and I mean actually swear that you will not cause any PR mess for the rest of the season. No stupid shirts, no viral videos, no drama. Nothing. That’s my only condition. If you break this, I’m done. This never happens again and I stop covering for you.”
Lando didn’t hesitate. He extended his hand toward you, expression more sincere than usual.
“I swear. Best behavior until the end of the season. You have my word.”
You stared at his hand for a few long seconds, still fighting with yourself. Then, slowly, you reached out and shook it.
“Okay,” you said quietly, almost like you couldn’t believe what you were agreeing to. “Thirty minutes. You go first. I’ll come after.”
After you left the room, you told him you’d come by in thirty minutes. First you had to face the rest of the PR team.
“So?” your boss asked as soon as you walked in.
“He won’t cause any more PR issues. He learned his lesson and swore he’ll behave.”
“And we should believe him?” someone else asked.
“I think so. I was harder on him this time. Really tried to scare him a bit,” you said.
Your boss nodded. “Good. I knew sending you was the right call, you’re the only one he actually listens to. If he keeps his word and stays clean, I’ll put you up for a promotion and a raise. You’ve been doing excellent work.”
That was exactly the motivation you needed.
But now you had to figure out how to keep Lando in line for the rest of the season. Easier said than done.
More than thirty minutes passed while you finished talking with the team. You finally slipped away, heart racing. You felt like you were back in high school sneaking out, except this time you were sneaking in. You checked left, right, behind you, then quietly opened the door to his driver’s room and stepped inside.
Lando was waiting.
“You’re late,” he said, amused.
“I was busy lying to my boss about how well you took the scolding,” you muttered. “Listen, Lando, if you actually behave until the end of the season, they’re giving me a promotion. I’ve only been here two months. This is huge for me. So please… be on your best behavior. Let me have this.”
You kept talking, nervous and rambling, until Lando stepped forward. He gently pushed you backward onto the small sofa in his driver’s room, spreading your legs. The moment his palm pressed over your pants, right against your pussy, your words died in your throat.
You were already getting wet. He could feel it.
Lando smirked at your reaction, he’d liked you from the first day.
He worked your jeans down slowly, leaving you in just your panties and team kit top. His eyes raked over you.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he murmured.
“What are you doing?” you breathed.
“A demonstration,” he said, teasing your pussy over the thin fabric with his fingers until your hips jerked against his hand.
He got tired of the teasing, hooked your panties to the side, then pulled them off completely. He spread your legs wide, staring.
“What a pretty pussy,” he whispered, voice rough. “Looks delicious.”
“Is it vegan?” you managed to tease, voice shaky.
“We’ll have to try it and find out.”
He lowered his head. You felt his hot breath on your clit first, then his tongue : slow, warm, and devastating. He licked a long stripe up your folds before focusing on your clit, sucking it between his lips and flicking his tongue.
You slapped a hand over your mouth to keep quiet. The walls were thin.
Lando ate you like you were his last meal. He wasn’t lying. He worked your clit with perfect pressure, sliding two thick fingers inside you, curling them against that spot that made your vision blur. Your thighs shook around his head as the first orgasm crashed over you hard. You came on his tongue, biting your palm to muffle the moan.
He didn’t stop.
Even as you twitched from oversensitivity, he kept licking and fingering you slower, deeper, until a second, even stronger orgasm ripped through you. By the time he finally pulled back, you were trembling and boneless on the sofa.
Lando wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking incredibly satisfied. Your pussy was still pulsing. He gave it a light, playful slap that made you jolt, then grabbed the towel he’d wisely placed earlier and some tissues. He cleaned you up slowly and gently, careful because you were so sensitive, then leaned in and kissed your hair.
“So?” you asked breathlessly. “Was it vegan?”
“Hell yeah,” he grinned. “But I’ll need to try it again to be completely sure.”
You laughed weakly. “That was a one-time thing, Norris…But if you actually stay good until the end of the season like you promised, I might let you do it again.”
lando is literally an infinite fic ideas glitch (that’s why he’s taking over my drafts). Right now I'm working on a fic about his "vegan era" (😉) , BUT before that... I will post a childhood best friend!reader x Oscar this week! (I hope)
a collection of F1 summer one-shots set across the world, where each story takes place in a different city and follows a different summer encounter.
SUMMER TRIP #01 — Cat Distribution System | MV3
SUMMARY: in which you follow a cat during your vacation in Italy to his secret hiding spot, only for the cat to return with a handsome stranger who happens to be just as obsessed with cats as you are.
PAIRING: max verstappen x reader
SUMMER TRIP #02 — Drunk On Summer Waves | OP81
SUMMARY: Back in Australia for the summer, frustrated with your love life and a little too drunk for your own good, you ask your childhood best friend, Oscar, to give you an orgasm.
PAIRING: oscar piastri x childhood best friend!reader
SUMMARY: You only wanted to pet a cat. But the cat had other plans and introduced you to a stranger, Max, with whom you ended up wandering the streets all night.
PAIRING: max verstappen x reader
SUMMER TRIP MASTERLIST
Italy had your heart every time. There was something about the atmosphere: the warm golden light spilling across weathered stone walls, the narrow cobblestone streets . That’s why you kept wandering long after sunset, with no destination in mind, just letting the evening pull you along.
The black cat appeared like a little shadow with bright green eyes.
It sat right in the middle of the alley, watching you calmly. You stopped immediately, a big smile spreading across your face.
“Oh… what a beauty you are,” you whispered, crouching down slowly. “You’re so pretty.”
You were hopeless when it came to cats. You couldn’t help yourself. You thought about your fourteen cats back home, mostly strays you’d adopted on pure impulse, they would be incredibly jealous right now. The black cat purred deeply as you gently stroked its head and back, the warmth and vibration making you melt.
After a few moments, it stood up, stretched gracefully, and started walking toward another street, glancing back at you.
“No, sweetie, don’t leave… I just want to love you and pet you a little more,” you said softly.
The cat stopped, turned its head, and meowed.
“Do you want me to follow you?” you asked, laughing at yourself. Damn it, I’m way too easy to kidnap if a cat is involved. But of course you followed.
The black cat led you through winding alleys lined with flower pots and glowing windows, past an old bicycle leaning against whitewashed steps, until it reached a quiet corner between two old buildings. A wooden bench sat tucked against the wall. The cat jumped onto the bench.
“That’s your secret spot, yeah?” you said gently, sitting down. The cat climbed straight into your lap. You tried not to move too much or breathe too loudly, not wanting to scare it away. You smiled, enjoying the deep purring and the peaceful moment. This is perfect.
But after about three wonderful minutes, the cat suddenly jumped down and trotted back the way it had come.
“You brought me all the way here just to ghost me?” you called after it, amused and a little betrayed. “Where are you going, you little traitor?”
Your feet hurt from walking the whole town all day, so you stayed on the bench, relaxing and admiring the beautiful narrow Italian streets around you.
A few minutes later, you heard footsteps and a low voice.
“Come on… just one pet. You were friendly two streets ago…”
The black cat returned, proudly leading a tall stranger straight to your bench. He wore a black hoodie and dark skinny jeans, messy light-brown hair, and striking blue eyes focused on the cat. He kept trying to coax it closer, but the cat didn’t stop until it leapt onto the bench beside you.
The stranger looked up, surprised to see you there.
“Hi,” he said with a small, genuine smile. “Is this your cat? Because I think this cat just tricked me into following him halfway across town.”
You smiled back. “No, he’s not mine. He did the exact same thing to me. Led me here, let me pet him, ghosted me… and now he brought you.”
The man chuckled warmly. “Clever little bastard.” He gestured to the bench. “Mind if I sit? He seems determined to get attention from both of us.”
“Go ahead.”
He sat on the other side. The black cat settled happily between you, purring loudly as you both stroked its silky fur. Your fingers brushed his by accident.
“Sorry,” you mumbled.
“No problem,” he replied, a faint smirk on his lips. “He’s clearly running the show tonight.”
You talked easily for a while : two strangers brought together by the same mischievous cat. You told him about your fourteen cats, how your apartment had basically become a shelter. He laughed, clearly amused.
“Fourteen?? That’s an organization,” he said dryly. “I only have three and they already act like they own the place. One of them screams at 3 a.m. just to check if I’m still alive.”
You both shared funny cat stories : dramatic zoomies, sock theft, picky eating habits. The conversation flowed so comfortably it was easy to forget you didn’t even know each other’s names yet. The black cat soaked up every bit of double attention, looking extremely pleased with itself.
Then, without warning, the cat stretched, jumped down, and disappeared down a different alley.
“Oh no” you both said at the same time, then laughed.
“Do you think he will bring another victim?” you asked.
“Probably,” he replied. “At this rate he's going to introduce half the town to each other.”
You grinned and sat for a few minutes in complete but comfortable silence.
He looked at you. “Do you mind if I stay here a little longer? I’m not really in a hurry. Or… should we go look for him? He disappeared more than ten minutes ago.”
“Yes, we probably should,” you said, standing up.
That’s how you ended up wandering the narrow golden-lit streets together, calling “pspspsps” softly into every corner, retracing the cat’s path. You went further ahead, then back again, laughing at how ridiculous the situation was. At one point a friendly orange cat appeared.
“Hi, beauty,” you said, crouching to pet it. “Have you seen a black cat with green eyes?”
The orange cat meowed, enjoyed the attention, then left too.
“Why does every cat leave us?” he asked jokingly. “This is getting personally offensive.”
“Maybe the black one has a secret hiding spot,” you said. “Or he got bored of us.”
You kept walking uphill until you spotted a small gelato shop still open, warm light spilling onto the cobblestones. And there, sitting proudly in front, was the black cat.
“There you are, you little matchmaker,” he said with a laugh.
An older Italian man stepped out, smiling.
“Buonasera! Gelato? All flavours.”
“Buonasera,” he replied. “Is this your cat?”
“Sì. He brings customers every night.”
You both told him the story. The man laughed and confirmed the bench was the cat’s favorite sleeping spot.
“Two gelatos?” your companion asked, turning to you. “Vanilla for me. You?”
“Vanilla too, please.”
He paid despite your protests, winning the short playful argument. “No worries. It’s just gelato.”
You walked side by side eating your gelato, the night air warm around you. The easy conversation had turned a little quieter now.
After a few minutes he spoke again.
“You know… I’m only here for three more days.”
“Only three?” you asked, a hint of disappointment slipping out.
“Yeah.” He gave a small, dry smile. “Feels shorter now.”
You finished your gelato in comfortable silence. Then he cleared his throat.
“You know, we’re literally out here following a cat together and I still don’t know your name,” he said, glancing at you with that boyish smirk.
You laughed softly. “I’m Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Max.”
“Max,” you repeated, liking how it sounded. “Nice to meet you too, even if it took a cat to make it happen.”
He smiled, looking a little more relaxed now that names were out of the way.
A bit later, as you slowly made your way back toward the main street, he spoke again, voice casual but with a hint of something warmer underneath.
“So… before you disappear back to your fourteen cats, can I get your number? I know we just met, but I really like your energy and your personality.”
The question was simple, almost teasing, but it made your heart skip. You smiled, feeling the same quiet pull.
“I think that would be nice,” you said. “Would be a shame if that random cat did all this work for nothing.”
You took his phone and typed in your number. When you handed it back, your fingers brushed again. This time neither of you pulled away immediately.
As you reached the main street, you glanced back one last time.
The black cat was sitting beneath a lantern a little further down the alley, watching the two of you leave. For a second, it almost looked pleased with itself, tail curled neatly, green eyes glowing softly in the golden light.
Then it stood up, stretched once, and disappeared silently into the night, probably off to find its next victims.
You turned back to Max with a small smile. And somewhere in the shadows, a very clever black cat with green eyes had just pulled off the perfect match.
I appreciate that you liked the story enough to want more, but it’s my blog!! I’m not a content machine. I write for my own fun, and if a part two doesn't exist, it’s because I didn't want to write one 🫶🏻
Who do you want to win the championship? who do you support?
Max all the way obviously 😆 but realistically with the current form I’m not holding my breath. If not him, then George please. Lewis would be cool too but I’m scared to put too much faith in Ferrari lmao, even tho I was a big Lewis fan before 🫶🏻
SUMMARY: Your ex cheated on you with your own cousin so you decided the best revenge was to hook up with his idol, his favorite driver, Lando Norris.
PAIRING: lando norris x reader
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You were drained, completely and utterly drained.
The race weekend had been brutal: endless media duties as a journalist and the devastating discovery that your boyfriend of seven years had been cheating on you with your own cousin. Not just cheating, he’d proposed to her after only two months. The same man who never once brought up marriage in your entire relationship.
The last two months had been hell. Ice cream, crying into your pillow, and work on autopilot. You were grumpy, exhausted, and emotionally empty, but your best friend refused to let you waste your summer mourning a man who didn’t deserve you.
That’s how you ended up being forced out of bed and getting ready while your friend went through your suitcase.
“Good damn it, this is so boring. You only packed work clothes. Nothing hot but don’t worry, I got you.”
She left the hotel room and returned almost thirty minutes later with a short skirt and a top while you were doing your makeup.
“Isn’t this too short?” you asked, tugging at the hem.
“Babe, a skirt can never be too short. You have nice legs, why not show them? This is hot girl summer.”
She bounced around you excitedly while you sighed, knowing you wouldn’t win this fight. Still… it was better than crying alone over someone who clearly didn’t give a fuck about you.
You barely remembered the last real party you’d been to. Your friend shoved a drink in your hand and pulled you onto the dance floor. A few songs and one strong cocktail later, the alcohol started working. The tension in your chest finally loosened, and you were actually having fun.
“Don’t turn around,” your friend whispered, “but someone has his eyes on you.”
Of course you turned. Your gaze locked with Lando Norris. He was staring right at you, that signature smirk already in place.
“Girl, I said don’t turn around!”
“Sorry…”
“He’s been watching you all night. This is your revenge moment. Wasn’t Lando your ex’s favorite driver? He fucks your cousin, you fuck his idol. I’m a genius.”
“No, that’s completely unprofessional,” you hissed. “I work with him. How am I supposed to act normal in the paddock after that?”
“You’re not at work now, he won’t mind I’m sure. And it looks like he’s back in his party boy / fuck boy era. You can have fun at least one night? And make your ex fuming? That’s the best combination.”
You thought about it. It was a bad idea and a good idea at the same time. Rational speaking, it was a pretty bad idea to do that with someone you had to work with, you would never escape him. It wasn’t like hooking up with a stranger you’d never see again. But on the other side, you wanted revenge. Your ex was the biggest Lando fan.
“Okay, what do I do to get his attention?”
“Nothing,” your friend grinned. “He’s already coming over.”
“What?! No...wait, don’t leave me alone!” you shouted as she vanished into the crowd.
“Have fun!” she called back.
Now what the hell do you even do?
You weren’t good at flirting anymore after seven years in a relationship. You stood awkwardly until you felt a warm presence behind you.
“Unexpected to see you here, Ms. Journalist.”
You turned. Lando was right there, cocky grin and all.
“I can say the same about you, Mr. Driver who DNF’d yesterday.”
“Ouch,” he laughed, voice flirty with a hint of sarcasm. “Not nice even outside the paddock.”
“Does the DNF bring your playboy era back?” you shot back.
“What playboy era are you talking about?” he asked with a knowing smirk.
“Let’s dance if we’re both here,” he suggested.
“You dance?” You burst out laughing.
“Well… not really. Just a little swing or something.”
Calling it dancing was generous. Neither of you were particularly good at it. Most of the time you were just laughing.
“I’ve never seen you like this,” Lando said, still grinning.
“Relaxed?”
“Yeah. Lately you always looked like you wanted to murder whoever was in your way.”
“That bad?” you asked, shocked.
“Oh yes. You looked scary. I was genuinely worried during interviews that you’d strangle me if you didn’t like my answers.”
Maybe yes, you had been a little tense and a little bitchy, but that bad? You didn’t even know anymore.
You both got bored of the awkward dance. Lando took your hand and brought you to the table where he had been sitting.
You tried to look around for your friend but it looked like she had left you alone. Lando sat down on the and said, “Looks like you don’t have where to stay,” then pulled you onto his lap with his arm around your waist.
What a lie, you could definitely have taken a seat from the neighboring table but you let him do his charm.
“You can relax a little more. You feel like a stone,” he teased. “Come on.”
You tried to relax while he talked with one of his friends. His friend eventually left, leaving the two of you alone.
Lando’s hand moved to your thigh, playing with it. You tried to take your phone from your bag to get some proof for your ex, but Lando caught what you wanted to do. He took the phone from your hand, put it on the table, and looked like he lost all interest in you.
“I see now… What’s your interest in this?” he asked, still drawing circles on your thigh.
You had two options: lie or tell the truth.
“So, long story short, my ex who I was together with for 7 years cheated on me with my cousin and got engaged after two months. And you are his favorite driver so I thought that maybe I will take somehow my revenge,” you said almost without breathing.
Lando looked at you for a while, not knowing if he should believe you or not. While you looked nervous and fidgeted a little.
You didn’t know if you fucked it up with Lando with this pics thing. Maybe he thought you were going to get some clout or use him.
Lando took a sip from his drink while he moved you to his other leg, still not letting you go.
“Is your ex really such a jerk to cheat and get engaged with your cousin or is it just a story?”
“I swear it’s real. I don’t have reasons to do that, ok? I’m not looking for clout or sending this to gossip pages or posting it. I don’t have an interest in this.”
“Okay,” Lando said, more determined.
“Okay?” you repeated, shocked.
“How do we take the revenge on your ex? How do we take those photos?”
“Maybe like how we are right now it’s good. I mean we are close enough, we don’t have to do something crazy, I don’t know.”
You were just rambling nonsense, so Lando took your phone, opened the camera, and tried to find the best angle.
“You’re again really stiff. Relax more on me. Pretend like you are melting on me.”
You couldn’t find the right position and you were basically climbing on Lando until you found the right one, then Lando kissed the edge of your mouth for the photo.
“Now kiss me too, like it doesn’t matter where. On the cheek or wherever you want.”
The whole photoshoot session was over and you had enough proofs for your revenge. An awkward but strangely comforting silence settled between you.
You stayed on his lap, his hand still resting on your thigh, talking about everything and nothing. Most of it was nonsense, but it felt easy. You were definitely spotted by now and would probably be on every F1 gossip page by morning, so it didn’t even matter anymore.
He looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped himself. After a moment he gathered more courage.
“How about heading to mine?”
You knew this question would come. It was probably the reason he approached you in the first place, the same way your reason for staying here with him was revenge.You had already made so many bad decisions tonight… why not one more? You had fun. Maybe some good sex wouldn’t hurt.
I honestly can't believe it's already been a year since I started sharing my stories here. Thank you to everyone who has read, liked, reblogged, commented, sent messages, or supported my writing in any way. Every single interaction means more to me than you know.
I never expected so many people to connect with my little ideas, and I'm incredibly grateful for all of you. (And to celebrate this, there might be a little surprise coming soon... if everything goes according to plan. 👀🤍)
