#f1 driver x reader

[crzbss]

the obvious - kimi antonelli x reader SMAU pt.1

: ˚⋆✮ in which: kimi and you have been best friends since all he had was a kart and a dream. you knew everything about each other, except the fact that you both were head over heels in love

: ˚⋆✮ a/n: unfortunately we need a part 2 because i hit photo limit… anyway guys kimi oscar charles podium has been my dream for so long and we finally got it hell yes.

part 2

yourusername

liked by kimi.antonelli, olliebearman and others

yourusername never trust a man who takes you on a ‘non-work related vacation’ then makes you do free labour and analyse his track times

see comments

username kimi in 4/6 photos btw

kimi.antonelli YOU OFFERED TO ANALYSE THEM liked by creator

yourusername you didn’t even pay me :(((

kimi.antonelli ok sorry bella i will let you do my hair as payment ok? liked by creator

yourusername YAY

username excuse me is he calling her pretty ?? casually ??

username “we arent dating” then they drop this

arvid.lindblad taking photos of his muscles now 👀

yourusername oh fuck off

username literally posed up w his little sister

username enough about kimi, look at her?

username we cant even see her, wait till kimi posts

kimi.antonelli

liked by yourusername, dinobeganovic_ and others

kimi.antonelli home before season starts! looking forward to australia

see comments

username he didn’t even post himself im going to scream

username haters see this and say they have a sibling bond btw

olliebearman home as in italy or her?? liked by creator

yourusername yooo i look so tan liked by creator

username her and maggie are matching. i will go crazy.

mercedesamgf1 ready for the season 💪💪 liked by creator

username are we going to ignore ollie’s comment orrr

username we’ve grown used to it.

f1.updatezz

liked by antonelli.wdc, f1megafan and others

f1.updatezz kimi in his interview when asked about motivation! i think we all know who he is referring to 👀

see comments

username oh that hesitation told me everything

username do tell, im kinda confused

username well clearly he is in love and has not admitted it because he fears she does not feel the same and does not want to ruin years of friendship. what he is idiotic about is that she reciprocates the love, both being too stupid to say anything.

username how on earth have you got all that from one interview

ka124life

liked by kimiantonellithegoat, mercsuperfan and others

ka124life i met kimi in australia today! he was super sweet and started smiling when i asked him about his trip to italy before coming here.

see comments

username good lorddd that vein on his arm

username you are so lucky.

username wonder why he was smiling… hehe

yourusername

liked by kimi.antonelli, alexandramalenaleclerc and others

yourusername sight seeing 🪩

see comments

username we missed this (actually getting photos of her on her page)

kikagomes perfect liked by creator

yourusername miss u bbyyyy

kimi.antonelli nice views liked by creator

olliebearman 😨

georgerussell63 😂

username he told mama this is serious now.

username he hasn’t told max yet clearly

maxverstappen1 👏

username i stand fucking corrected.

username kimi is making it painfully obvious that he is flirting with her wtf.

username podium gave him confidence

rafael21 finally made it to china huh liked by creator

yourusername haha yeah lol

username oh we don’t want you here “rafael”.

yourusername has posted a close friends story

replied to yourusername’s story

olliebearman he seems relaxed ;)

yourusername kimi says shut up

alexandramalenaleclerc this is not casual??

yourusername he is literally helping me save money by letting me stay in his room bro

alexandramalenaleclerc how many beds? seen

kikagomes both freshly showered hmm

yourusername you aren't funny.

f1

liked by yourusername, mercedesamgf1 and others

f1 KIMI ANTONELLI IS ON POLE IN CHINA! 👏💨 It's his first Grand Prix Pole Position in F1! 😮‍💨

see comments

username wdc incoming

mercedesamgf1 lets go kimi 👏

username merc domination never bores fans!!

yourusername MY BOY LETS GO

username someone let her know we saw that

kikagomes 😂

username saw what wait i didnt see

username she commented “my boy” lmaoo

username she deleted it so quickly im scared a divorce era is coming…

part 2 coming…

[piastriprincess]

drop dead ⸻  oscar  piastri  x  reader  .

featuring  oscar  piastri  ,  popstar!reader  ,  secret  relationship . author’s  note  hiiiiii  so i just realized that monday was the one year anniversary of this blog !!  what da hale... time flies . thank you soooooooo much for reading my stuff, i feel so grateful and literally have so much fun writing for yall !! this is just  something  silly  to  tide  you  over  while  i  work  on  other  pieces  ...  as a longtime stan twt lurker i had fun including some of my fav references . also who  else  can’t  wait  for  OR3  .  i  wasn’t  on  tumblr  for  guts  so  i  need  yall  to  know  now  that  i  do  NAWT  play  about  my  daughter  olivia  !!  also ALSO dropped some deep oscar lore in this very briefly for the OG piastriprincesses . anyway  i hope  you  like  this  and  as  always  let  me  know  what  you  think  or  just  come  chat  to  me  !!  title  is  obviously  from  drop  dead  by  olivia  rodrigo  .

ynln • 6m ago 🎵 Just Like Heaven - The Cure

ynln i hope you never finish that beer liked by oscarpiastri, audreyhobert and 2,584,370 others

conangray you’re glowing mama ♥ liked by author ⤷ ynln LOVE YOUUUU flyereduppppp this is sooooo lovergirl of her… whats going on allamericanyn actually unfair that she’s hot AND cool AND a grammy winner like okay save something for the rest of us lac.yn glad you’re enjoying your vacation queen but my boyfriend just broke up with me so let’s get back in the studio !! ⤷ taydaughter um did you see the third pic bae i don’t think she’s got anything for you tokyotonistrucking ummm third slide WHO DAT IN THE BAAAAACK lizzymcalpine gorgeous gorgeous girl ♥ liked by author oscsnoopy oscar in the likes AGAIN i said oh i'm sure ⤷ piastriluvr he’s such a ynnie lmaoooo ⤷ buzzing.pop who is oscar      ⤷ oscsnoopy oscar piastri? formula one driver? famously obsessed with yn, he’s mentioned her as his celebrity crush in like every interview ever       ⤷ piastriluvr dont put our boy on the jumbotron like this LMAOOO we cant let his loserness about yn breach containment!!       ⤷ buzzing.pop wait why he kinda — ynfan42069 this soft launch NOOOOO i need more sad songs :(

──────────── ☆ ─────────────

──────────── ☆ ─────────────

──────────── ☆ ─────────────

──────────── ☆ ─────────────

⸻ replies to ynln's instagram story !

letsgolesbians  •  30s omg  is  the  caption  a  song  lyric??

gracieabrams  •  2m You  and  Oscar  are  so  cuteeeee  🥹  Let’s  do  a  double  date  soon  or  something!  ♥  liked  by  user

yns.traitor  •  6m who  is  he who  is  he who  is  he who  is  he who  is  he

deuxmoi  •  15m THE  SOFT  LAUNCH  IS  SOFT  LAUNCHING…

oscarpiastri  •  25m Can  you  send  this  one  to  me? Your  shadow  looks  so  pretty  and  I  want it  as  my  lockscreen  ♥  liked  by  user

⸻ replies to oscarpiastri's instagram story !

ynln  •  2m oh  my  god  this  lighting  ??  you  literally  look  like  an  angel my  boy  is  so  hottttttt  ♥  liked  by  user

oscarcito481  •  3m the  way  the  song  isn’t  even  related… oscar  piastri  you  are  so  devoted  to  your  crush  it’s  unbelievable  i  sincerely hope  you  meet  her  while  she’s  in  monaco

logansargeant  •  8m Bro  😭😭😭  You  know  you  already  got  her  right

piastriprincess  •  14m ARMS…  I’M  LOOKING  SOOOOO  DISRESPECTFULLY  ‼️️

lando  •  15m absolutely  shameless  mate  lmfao can  u  tell  her  i  want  tickets  to  her  show  tho pleas 😄

──────────── ☆ ─────────────

yndaily • 24m ago

yndaily  yn  in  monaco  AGAIN  today!  fans  saw  her  this  morning  grabbing  a  coffee,  and  she  later  posted  a  story  of  herself  playing  tennis.  a  bit  surprising  given  she  was  just  spotted  in  london  earlier  this  week  outside  sarm  studios,  fueling  rumors  a  new  album  is  on  the  way.  glad  our  girl  is  enjoying  some  rest  and  relaxation  but  what  do  we  think  ynnies?  is  YN3  coming? liked  by  ynnieshq,  hattiepiastri,  and  36,582  others

prissytomboyrecords  playing  tennis…  babe  that  was  another  soft  launch  it’s  okay  we  can  be  honest ⤷  jesuswasacarpenter  it’s  so  obviously  PR  for  an  album  rollout,  like  those  cryptic  ass  captions  are  definitely  lyrics  she's  so  transparent h0pium  oscar  posting  a  thirst  trap  story  using  her  song  immediately  after  she  was  spotted  in  monaco…  he  is  suchhhh  a  loser  i  love  him yn.world  Of  course  I  want  new  music  but  this  break  is  obviously  good  for  her,  she’s  looked  so  healthy  and  happy  recently!  ♥  liked  by  author popculturechat  she’s  been  in  monaco  so  much  omg  do  we  think  her  man  lives  there ⤷  ilyarozanovofficial  that’s  like  basically  confirmed  at  this  point  right ⤷  princessyn  YOUR  MIND  oh  my  god.  and  her  playing  tennis  today  too!!  could it be carlitosalcarazz  maybe?????      ⤷  gamesetmatch  tagging  him  is  insane  but  EEEEEK  they’d  be  sooo  cute  together…  my  new  agenda  !!      ⤷  richbich  hate  to  burst  the  bubble  but  i  think  she  was  playing  padel  actually           ⤷  princessyn  wait  you’re  so  right.  maybe  an  f1  driver  then?  i  think  lando’s  single?                ⤷  f1.gossip  LANDOYN  WOULD  BE  SOOOOO  BUZZY                ⤷  forzafemme  or  hear  me  out…  she’s  working  on  a  track  for  the  new  album  with  charles?? amishwillbyers  can  we  please  give  her  privacy  jesus  christ  like  maybe  she’s  in  monaco  bc  no  one’s  supposed  to  be  able  to  take  pictures  of  her  there impradaurnada  she’s  gorgeous  oh  my  days piastr81  a  certain  superfan  f1  driver  just  fell  to  his  knees  seeing  this  post ⤷  everythingyn  i  know  he  was  running  around  monaco  fanboying  out  trying  to  find  her ⤷  oscarpiastriwdc  hold  awn…  walk  with  me  here...  what  if  the  soft  launch  is  oscar...      ⤷  spillurguts  bffr  as  if  he  could  act  normal  around  her  long  enough  to  carry  on  a  conversation  much  less  start  a  relationship         ⤷  oscarpiastriwdc  ykw  im  living  in  my  oscyn  truth... ur all gonna see  #DELUSIONISTHESOLUTION ynnieshq  🤫🤫🤫  ♥  liked  by  author ⤷  yndaily  oh  my  god  admin  WHAT  DO  YOU  KNOW?????

──────────── ☆ ─────────────

──────────── ☆ ─────────────

⸻  replies  to  ynln’s  instagram  story  !

oscarpiastri  •  30s Oh  so  you  CAN  be  romantic.  Noted Love  you,  so  proud  of  you  sweetheart  ♥  liked  by  user

f1.gossip  •  2m THE  CAR  IN THE COLLAGE OMG  I  KNEW  IT  WAS  LANDOOOOOO

gethimback.com  •  6m GIRL  IM  AT  WORK  HOW  DO  YOU  EXPECT  ME  TO  FUNCTION  AFTER  THIS  ?!?!?!?!?!?!

taylorswift  •  15m The  way  this  made  me  cry  and  I’ve  already  heard  the  song  five  times  🥹  Can’t  believe  it’s  out  in  the  world  already!  So  happy  for  you  ♥  liked  by  user

ynradio  •  25m STREAMING  ON  MY  SAMSUNG  SMART  FRIDGE  RN  IM  GETTING  YOU  THAT  BILLBOARD  NUMBER  ONE  ON  GOD  YN

──────────── ☆ ─────────────

ynnieshq  •  35m  ago 🎵 drop  dead  -  YN  LN

ynnieshq  hey  did  you  see  the  LOVE  note  from  yn?  her  new  single  “drop  dead”  is  yours  now  🫧🩷  stream  on  all  platforms  and  stay  tuned  for  more  surprises  coming  soon! liked  by  ynln,  oscarpiastri,  and  1,987,194  others

obsessedwithurex  all  her  captions  recently  are  making  soooo  much  more  sense  now  lol poopcrave  need  the  analysts  to  do  a  deep  dive  on  this  IMMEDIATELY ⤷  americanteenager  no  like  i  need  a  behind  the  lyrics  video  raynowwwww      ⤷  poopcrave  baby  no  shade  but  im  talkin  bout  the  man… numberoneynnie  might  get  cancelled  for  saying  this  but  this  song  sounds  like  it’s  been  copied  from  somewhere?  the  beats,  the  melody,  it  all  sounds  so  familiar.  i  just  can’t  pinpoint  exactly  where  i’ve  heard  it?  oh  wait…  i’ve  figured  it  out…  it  sounds  like  THE  SONG  OF  THE  SUMMER  ♥  liked  by  author ynified.xx  most  alive  i’ve  ever  been  but  kiss  me  and  i  might  drop  dead?  oh  she’s  down  BADDDDDD ⤷  marybethbarone  No  for  real  WHO  is  this  man  because  I’ve  never  heard  her  sound  so  in  love  🥹      ⤷  rachelberryofficial  clearly  if  she  wanted  us  to  know  she’d  just  say  it!!!  let’s  give  her  space!!!           ⤷  marybethbarone  Okay  but,  alternatively,  consider:  I  am  nosey. maisiepeters  YN3  IS  COMING  YESSSSS  ♥  liked  by  author vivaciousskin.com  Slide  2  has  to  be  a  screencap  from  the  music  video  right? ⤷  ynnieshq  👀👀👀 ⤷  ynluvr51  ADMIN  STOP  BEING  CRYPTIC  WE’RE  NOT  SWIFTIES… left4rat  sour  to  guts  to  LOVE  now  that’s  what  i  call  a  holy  trinity  ♥  liked  by  author emptychairdoasolo  second  slide  jfc  she’s  so  fineeeee…  whoever  her  man  is  i  hope  he  can  fight ⤷  opiastrix2  Dw  I  can      ⤷  brutallyn  bro  thinks  he’s  on  the  team  🫵🤣🫵🤣  who  invited  my  man  blud ynluvbot  stream  drop  dead  for  a  free  drink  at  starbucks!!  🌷🫧🩷 ⤷  starbuckscoffee  This  is  not  a  valid  Starbucks  offer,  and  this  comment  is  fake.  To  confirm  any  Starbucks  promotion,  you  can  check  your  Starbucks  app,  reach  out  to  our  customer  care  line,  or  ask  your  Starbucks  barista.      ⤷  ynluvbot  did  i  ask?  mind  your  own  business

──────────── ☆ ─────────────

──────────── ☆ ─────────────

ynln  •  35m  ago 🎵 drop  dead  -  YN  LN

ynln  thank  you  for  all  the  LOVE  on  drop  dead  🫧🩷  i  wrote  this  song  on  the  floor  of  my  apartment  after  the  best  night  of  my  life.  i  was  shaking  and  laughing  and  it  felt  like  i  couldn’t  get  the  words  out  quick  enough.  i’ve  never  written  anything  so  fast  or  so  honest  and  turns  out  it’s  my  favorite  thing  i’ve  ever  made.  should’ve  expected  it  because  it’s  about  my  favorite  person!  thank  you  for  listening  and  i’m  so  happy  you  LOVE  it  as  much  as  i  do

ps:  pretty  boy  is  pretty  happy  about  it  too  xx liked  by  oscarpiastri,  sabrinacarpenter,  and  1,992,501  others

gossipgirl  white  boy  with  a  cute  smile  WRITE  THAT  DOWN  WRITE  THAT  DOWN dan_nigro  Wowwww  I  wonder  what  the  album  title  could  possibly  be  ♥  liked  by  author ⤷  ynln  it’s  a  mystery! thankunext327  third  slide  ohhhh  okay  i’m  gonna  go  lie  in  traffic  now ⤷  iluvyn  Wait  til  LOVE  drops  please  we  can’t  lose  sales thesearemyconfessions  curly  hair  theory  🥹  she’s  so  in  loveeeeee ynssour  im  already  missing  the  purple  eras  but  the  pink  is  so  cute  on  her  too costarastrology  Fun  fact:  Aries  and  Gemini  are  two  of  the  most  compatible  star  signs!  You  really  will  go  nice  together  ♥  liked  by  author shnnetwork  Okay  does  anyone  else  think  this  pic  is  so  inappropriate.  Like  she  does  not  need  to  be  showing  them  kissing.  You  guys  are  disgusting  and  weird  for  defending  a  literal  weirdo ⤷  dropdead.diva  i’m  17  and  AFRAID  of  yn  ln lasculturistas  ynnies  let’s  mobilize  we  need  to  figure  out  who  this  man  is,  we  have  half  his  face  and  his  star  sign!!! oscarpiastri  Congratulations  ♥  liked  by  author ⤷  boxboxbaby  LMAOOOOOOOOOO  posted  this  with  tears  in  his  eyes      ⤷  landowecanbewdc  no  bc  the  way  he  commented  the  exact  same  thing  w  the  exact  same  energy  on  lando’s  post  when  he  lost  the  wdc  like  this  is  really  that  level  of  serious  for  him ⤷  scuderiayn  did  you  like  the  song  though  oscarpiastri ⤷ 81sweetheart TAGGING HIM UNPROVOKED ??? audreyhobert  Tewwww  cute  ♥  liked  by  author ⤷  ynln  love  yewwwwww  xx oscarpiastriwdc  i  know  y’all  are  gonna  clown  me  again  but…  3rd  pic…  i’d  recognize  that  meepful  smile  anywhere… ⤷  sharleclerc  baby  he  can’t  even  get  a  reply  back      ⤷  oscarpiastriwdc  but  he  got  a  like  this  time!  alexa  play  baby  steps  by  olivia  dean

──────────── ☆ ─────────────

REDDIT:  TOP  POSTS  TODAY

r/popculturechat  •  crossposted  to  r/ynln  and  r/popheads  •  6h  ago posted  by  u/ynspilledmyguts

who  is  drop  dead  about?  let’s  discuss  👀

first  of  all  GO  STREAM  DROP  DEAD!  so  proud  of  our  girl  yn,  it’s  her  biggest  debut  ever  and  such  a  beautiful  song  🫧🩷

but  let’s  get  to  the  elephant  in  the  room:  we  have  no  idea  who  it’s  about!!!!!  not  to  be  parasocial  but  i’m  kinda  obsessed  with  figuring  it  out  so  i’m  compiling  all  the  clues  we  have  so  far.  i  need  the  internet  sleuths  to  play  detective  with  me  because  i  haven’t  been  able  to  narrow  it  down  enough  and  it’s  driving  me  crazy

what  we  know  so  far:

from  the  lyrics  of  the  song:  he’s  an  aries,  he  likes  the  cure  (or  at  least  just  like  heaven),  he’s  “so  so  pretty”,  she  stalked  him  online  before  they  met  (which  means  he  is famous and would  have  to  have  been  single  at  least  after  march  2025  when  she  and  the  evil  ex  broke  up)

from  context:  she’s  been  in  monaco  a  lottttt  recently  but  was  also  recording  in  london,  she  posted  a  story  playing  tennis/padel  with  him,  she’s  been  soft  launching  for  a  few  weeks  now  but  they’ve  clearly  been  dating  for  a  bit

i  listened  to  the  deux/u  podcast  this  week  but  it  only  got  me  more  confused  because  they’re  suggesting  it’s  an  athlete  and  i  just  don’t  see  her  with  a  jock.  YNNIES  HELP  ME!

⬆  81.4K  ⬇  •  🗨 534  •  ➦  SHARE

TOP  COMMENTS

u/YNNATION  •  3h  ago “not  to  be  parasocial”  babe  that’s  kinda  what  this  subreddit  is  for  ⬆  3.4K  ⬇

u/grandchelem  •  1h  ago i  really think  it’s  an  f1  driver.  they  basically  all  live  in  monaco,  and  does  anyone  remember  when  she  randomly  canceled  a  show  during  guts  world  tour  last  summer  and  then  people  spotted  her  in  the  airport  flying  to  ZANDVOORT  of  all  places  ⬆  1.7K  ⬇ ⤷  u/everythingyn  •  35m  ago  OK  I  just  looked  it  up  and  the  only  two  Aries  drivers  on  the  F1  grid  are  Alex  Albon  and  Oscar  Piastri?  Oscar  kinda  seems  more  like  her  type  out  of  the  two  of  them  ⬆  81  ⬇      ⤷  u/ln4norris  •  26m  ago  oscar  get  off  your  burner  account  buddy  ⬆  4.8K  ⬇      ⤷  u/pitstoppiastri  •  8m  ago  LMAOOO  i  love  oscar  but  be  so  fr  rn  ⬆  2.1K  ⬇

u/neverendingmidnightsun  •  48m  ago Unpopular  opinion  but  I  think  it  might  genuinely  be  someone  non-famous.  “Stalked  you  on  the  internet”  could  just  mean  she  found  his  Instagram.  Not  everything  has  to  be  a  celebrity!  Sometimes  the  answer  is  boring!  ⬆  2.5K  ⬇ ⤷  u/fauxmoi  •  9m  ago  the  answer  CANNOT  be  boring  i  refuse  to  accept  that  ⬆  332  ⬇

u/monacoinsider  •  39m  ago wait  lowkey  the  deuxmoi  podcast  was  soooo  inaccurate  like  they  did  NAWT  do  their  research at all.  half  of  the  guys  they  talked  about  aren’t  even  aries,  alex  albon  is  literally  engaged,  and  oscar  piastri  is  too  busy  being  yn’s  reply  guy  to  pull  her  ⬆  992  ⬇ ⤷  u/sinnerista  •  11m  ago  thank  god  you  said  this  bc  i  listened  and  i’ve  been  rebuking  the  zv*r*v  allegations  all  day  ⬆  597  ⬇ ⤷  u/friedandprejudice  •  2m  ago  my  money’s  on  berrettini  but  honestly  it  could  be  someone  who  doesn’t  live  in  monaco?  maybe  they  were  just  vacationing  there  or  something  ⬆  133  ⬇

u/fromthediningtable  •  2h  ago genuine  question  but  does  it  matter  who  it  is?  she’s  clearly  happy,  she  wrote  the  most  joyful  song  of  her  career  n  whoever  he  is,  he’s  obviously  good  for  her.  respectfully  maybe  we  should  just  let  her  have  this  one  n  let  her  tell  us  when  she’s  ready  ⬆  689  ⬇ ⤷  u/ynspilledmyguts  •  35m  ago  this  is  such  a  beautiful  sentiment  bae  but  i  will  not  rest  until  i  know  who  he  is  🫶  ⬆  731  ⬇

──────────── ☆ ─────────────

──────────── ☆ ─────────────

oscarpiastri  •  22m  ago 🎵 drop  dead  -  YN  LN

oscarpiastri  Think  we  might  go  really  nice  together liked  by  ynln,  lando  and  1,584,370  others

ynln  LMAOOOO  you’re  insane ynln  saw  the  vision  didn’t  you.  i  love  you  baby  xx  ♥  liked  by  author ⤷  oscarpiastri  Love  you  more  :) oscmega  OH  MY  GOD????  OSCAR  PIASTRI  I  WAS  UNFAMILIAR  WITH  YOUR  GAME  MY  GOAT oscarpiastriwdc  oscyn  truthers  WE  WONNNNNNNN ⤷  spillurguts  issuing  my  formal  apology  to  you  now  queen xopiastri  third  pic  oh  ik  you two  are  freaked  out. oskuromi  mclaren  hate  train,  down  bad  allegations,  ynnies  and oscarinas all calling  him  rizzless…  he  had  one  chance  and  he  locked  the  fuck  INNNNNN popculturechat  when  ynnieshq  said  more  surprises  coming  soon  ain’t  no  way  this  is  what  they  meant  😭 ⤷  ynnieshq  i  can’t  control  either  of  them  tbh  i’m  just  along  for  the  ride      ⤷  vivacioushairandlashes  admin:  who  drivin  this  bus… ynpilled  wait  he’s  kinda  cute  AND  he  has  a  job  yayyyy i love him already piastriszn  no  bc  his  manifestation  rituals  must  go  so  crazy  like  how  does  he  keep  pulling  his  favs!!!  first  lando  then  jannik  then  this!!!!  ♥  liked  by  author ⤷  lando  now  why  am  i  in  it  :0 good4u Uhhhh  the  leopard  jumpsuit???  Are  you  saying  they’ve  been  together  since  MILAN???  That  show  was  like  8  months  ago logansargeant  Thank  god  the  lying  was  getting  exhausting  ♥  liked  by  author piastriarchive  the  way  we’ve  been  clowning  oscar  for  years  but  yn  was  in  the  likes  in  seconds  and  was  the  first  comment…  like  she’s  just  as  down  bad  for  him ⤷  ynln  yeah  :)      ⤷  piastriarchive  girl  you  weren’t  even  tagged  😭😭😭  GET  UP!!!           ⤷  ynln  pretty  happy  right  where  i  am  actually  ♥  liked  by  author

──────────── ☆ ─────────────

⸻ bonus !

[ham1lton]

I’LL BE THE GIRL OF HIS DREAMS (MAYBE??)

pairings: oscar piastri x stan account!reader

warnings: none?

faceclaim: pam hughes / pamalaaam on ig.

summary: it is a truth universally acknowledged that a fast driver must be in want of a girlfriend—oscar piastri just didn’t expect his to be a twitter menace.

author’s note: jam is just a nickname that yn goes by online, which is good for security on the internet. stay safe kids !

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend and 20,838 others.

yourusername: girl date w/ bffname. jam, books and the winter air. what could be better?

view all comments

user1: WAHT?!

— user2: omg she wasn’t joking she’s actually that gorgeous.

user3: sorry you’re so pretty i’m taken aback. i assume that all ppl who argue online r hideous trolls but you’re clearly not. sorry. i apologise.

user4: did u buy your namesake?

— yourusername: ofc!! spent my paycheck on new ones. i’m the proud mama of two strawberry jams 😽

user5: LANDO LIKED YOUR POST

user6: literally drop the skincare routine rn or i’m calling the authorities.

– yoursername: genetics + water + spite <3

user7: girl what books did u get i need the haul

– yoursername: east of eden, the glass castle and some other classics!! i’ll post a proper vid later if you’d like <3

user8: lando liked… HE’S WATCHING.

– user9: he’s been watching. oscar is shaking.

user10: okay but imagine arguing with someone online and then finding out they look like this. i’d delete my account.

– user11: user3 already went through all five stages of grief in these comments.

user12: winter air is nice and all but i feel like oscar should be here warming you up just saying!!

friend: girl date and no invite?! feeling betrayed rn …. 😓

— yourusername: ur in australia but i apologise. we should have walked through land and sea. next time i see u i owe u a matcha for the trauma babe 😞

— friend: a decent apology. i accept it 😽

user13: she fights, she reads, she stuns… what CAN’T she do?

– yoursername: parallel park.

user14: not me zooming in to confirm this isn’t an ai-generated model.

– yoursername: sorry to disappoint, i’m very real and very chronically online.

user15: OSCAR GIRLIES R HOT WBK <3

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

from: mclaren racing [email protected]

to: jam [email protected]

subject: you’re invited – race weekend with mclaren

hi jam,

we hope you’re well. we’ve been following your incredible f1 content and couldn’t help but notice your… passionate defence of a certain quiet australian. it’s safe to say the team (and the driver in question) are fans.

we’d love to invite you to join us for the upcoming grand prix weekend as our guest. paddock access, behind-the-scenes moments, and yes – proper tea and snacks included.

let us know if you’re available and we’ll sort everything on our end, including travel and accommodation. we think you’ll have a lot of fun.

looking forward to hearing from you.

cheers,

the mclaren team.

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, yourbff and 45,838 others.

yourusername: hotties make some noise! (all u haters that say matcha tastes like grass r BABIES!!!)

view all comments

user1: i would recognise my goat’s hand anywhere… by touch alone, by smell; i would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. i would know him in death, at the end of the world.

— user1: my boo bear. my king. my reason. my oscar.

— user2: lando get off ur burner.

— user3: ICB LMFOAJDHEISJDN ?!38393&:

user4: jam ily. u taste good in matcha too. multi-use queen <3

*liked by yourusername.*

alexandrasaintmleux: gorgeous girl 🤍 lovely meeting u!!!

— yourusername: says the most gorgeous girl in recorded human history. omg blushing rn 😝

user5: u could say cement tastes good and i’d try it.

user6: jam you’re so fine it’s honestly starting to feel like a personal attack

user7: OSCAR DATING AN F1 OBSESSED GIRL YASSSSS

— user8: me and jam as the mclaren wags. i can see it now.

user9: the middle pic is giving “soft launch” and i’m spiraling

— yourusername: it’s giving “he paid for the matcha so i had to post him”

user10: is ur name really jam?

— yourusername: not legally or professionally or personally but yea :)

user11: the way jam is so unhinged on twt but is the sweetest ever on ig needs to be studied….

— user12: like on twt when she threatened to pull up on that guy who was saying awful things about oscar and he deactivated all his socials??? vs on ig where she goes to farmers’ markets like a granny 😭

user20: if oscar doesn’t soft launch you back i’m rioting

— yourusername: pls i’d settle for him texting back within 3-5 business days

— user21: NOT OSCAR FUMBLING BAD BITCHES NOOOO

— user22: @/oscar GET UPPPPPP!!!!!

— user23: WTFFFFFFFFF STOP THIS MADNESS @/oscar

— user24: if i had a baddie like this i would do anything she asks… jam says jump? i say how high… oscar u need that energy NOW!!!!

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

part two?

yes

no

Voting ended onMar 31, 2025

[katsreading]

Older - MV1

Max Verstappen x Younger Fem!Reader

You’ve known Ollie Bearman since you were five years old, and he’s been pining after you just as long. You go to all his races, go out celebrating with him, support him no matter what. So, naturally, everyone assumes you two will end up together. The thing is, you’ve got your eye on someone a little… older.

Warnings: 18+ content, age gap (20-27), dirty talk, praise, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, light dom/sub themes, masturbation, barely proofread.

Word Count: 5k

Note: This fic idea came to me in a vision (saw a tiktok edit of Max to this song and an open word doc started calling to me like the green goblin mask) (Also apologies to Ollie Bearman fans everywhere sorry buddy I had to pick a young driver and I just couldn't do it to Kimi...)

You’ve lost track of how many races you’ve been to at this point. Ollie doesn’t even bother asking if you’re coming anymore; he just puts your name on the list, no matter how far the flight or how expensive the hotel. It’s an unspoken rule that you’re his constant.

But the atmosphere still gets you, every time. The roar of engines, so loud you can’t comprehend how anybody on the team stays focused around them. The flashes of bright colours, flying past as you try your best to concentrate on which one might be him. But mostly, the crowd, and the way their cheers unify to support an underdog, which right now, is Ollie.

The race finishes, and you’re on your feet, jumping up and down and cheering so loudly you might be rivalling the cars’ volume, without a care in the world about who you might be annoying, because Ollie, your Ollie, has just crossed the line in P3—his highest ever finish, and his first Formula 1 podium.

You worried, at the start of the season, that him becoming a Formula 1 driver might mean the end of your friendship with Ollie. That he might be too busy with training, on or off track, or too distracted by an entirely new world of travel and partying, to make time for you. You’d been shocked by how upset the thought actually made you.

It turned out to be a silly thing to worry about, though, because he was thinking the exact opposite—that maybe, finally, as a Formula 1 driver, he might find the courage to make a move on you. You didn’t know this for sure, of course, but there were signs. You tried to ignore them, whenever you could.

It feels like the car has barely stopped, when Ollie leaps out of it, pulling off his helmet as he rushes over to where you stand with his team. The second he reaches you, he throws himself against you in the type of hug that makes you squeal and lose your breath. You laugh into him, returning the hug with equal force.

“We’re going out tonight!” He shouts into your ear, loud enough that the team around you hear it and laugh, clapping him on the back.

“If you’re paying!” You shout back, which gets an even louder laugh, and Ollie pulls back to flash you a grin. His smile is still the same as it was when you were kids, which makes your heart hurt a little sometimes. You don’t show that though. You ruffle his hair, and push him forwards, shouting, “Go get your trophy!”

You know the post-race routine by now. Ollie will disappear for a while, flashing a golden retriever smile at the cameras, and reciting his perfectly practiced lines into a million microphones. You’ll hang around, letting him soak up the attention for as long as he wants to, waiting for him to finish, which is when the celebrations will really begin, and you’ll end up drunk at whatever club has offered him the biggest bar tab.

When he finds you again, he’s covered in champagne head-to-toe, and somehow his smile does not falter for even a second. He wraps his arm around your shoulders without hesitation, hair dripping champagne onto you, and lets his hand rest against the curve of your neck. It’s not unusual for him to be touchy with you, especially after such a huge racing moment, but something about the way his thumb rubs casual circles against your skin feels different. More intimate. You don’t acknowledge it though. Instead, you let him lead you to the car, as he relays the events of the race to you, giddy, as if you weren’t right there watching.

You try to pretend you don’t notice him staring at you, in the car, when he thinks you aren’t looking. Because if you notice it, it becomes real.

When you make it to the hotel, he opens the door for you, and lets his hand fall to your waist as you stand in the reception making plans for the evening.

“Ten.” You say, firmly.

“But that’s ages away,” he whines, looking at you with pleading eyes.

“I’m not going out in heels a minute earlier.” You reply. “And that’s already a compromise. I’d rather leave at eleven.”

“Fine.” He says, pretending to be annoyed, but struggling to hide his smile. “I’ll see you at ten.”

Ollie hangs around downstairs for a bit, to grab a drink, but you head straight up to your room.

You know it’s not going to take you an hour and a half to get ready. In fact, in the right circumstances, you could be ready in fifteen minutes.

But today, while Ollie was finishing in his first ever podium position, Max Verstappen was winning his sixty-fifth Grand Prix. And seeing him win always drives you crazy.

You fall back against the headboard of your bed, legs spread as you shimmy off your underwear and throw them into a pile with your jeans, which you took off the second you were in the door.

He’d watched you, once. Hadn’t touched you, or himself, at all. Like an exercise in restraint. At the time, you’d begged him to. Thrashed around, whining, completely pathetic, craving his touch. You’d told him nothing felt as good as he did, that you’d never be able to make yourself come as hard as he could.

Now, you picture his eyes on you, darkly focused, as you let your fingers circle your clit. It doesn’t take long for pleasure to build, not when you’ve spent the day watching him drive like that. Certainly not when you let your mind wander to him on the podium, champagne making his fireproofs cling to each ripple of muscle.

 A soft gasp falls from your lips as you push one finger, then two, against your entrance, and begin to fuck yourself. Your fingers curl upwards, hitting the exact right spot to make your vision blur, and you repeat the motion, in and out.

You clench against your own fingers, the sensation so sweet, but not enough.

You’re desperate for more, deeper, harder. Something you know only Max can give you. A third finger slips in easily, and you roll over onto your stomach, arching your back, craving the feeling of his fingers digging into your back as he bottoms out.

You keep that image in your head, as your thumb circles your clit, and the pressure at your core builds to—finally, release.

You bury your face in a pillow, panting, arm aching, yet completely unsatisfied.

A cold shower doesn’t solve your problem either. Though, it does make you look slightly more put together.

You dress in black, choosing a slinky mini dress with a back just low enough that you can’t wear a bra, and matching black heels you can only just walk in. You don’t bother pretending you’ve dressed up for yourself. You know, in your heart, you’ve dressed for him. For the thrill of seeing his eyes drag up and down your body, and the satisfaction of letting him undress you.

Ollie is halfway through a beer when you meet him at the hotel bar, and you spot him before he spots you. He’s changed into a black button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and relaxed black trousers. The smart look suits him, you think, but every time you see him dressed like this, it throws you off. You’re used to his boyish look, in shorts and hoodies with sleeves too short for him, and you prefer him that way. It makes it easier to pretend he is still a boy.

When he spots you, he straightens, grinning right away. He pulls you in for a hug, chin resting on your head as his arms wrap around your waist. His hands brush against the bare skin of your back, and you suck in a sharp breath.

“You look incredible,” he says, and the lack of teasing, or anything other than genuine sincerity, throws you off.

For the first time, you feel guilty.

“See,” you say, pulling away from the hug to twirl. “I told you I needed until ten. Now, let’s get me a drink!” It’s a desperate attempt to steer the conversation away from another compliment, but it works. Ollie gets you a cocktail, and you manage to stick to entirely safe topics, like your current favourite drinks, and who you’re hoping to bump into tonight.

You don’t say Max.

At the club, you and Ollie sit next to each other in the VIP section, as other drivers and their girlfriends pile in around you. You scan the room as he falls into conversation with Lando Norris, who congratulates him on his first podium.

The night feels like it moves at a snail’s pace, after the speed of the day. You sip one drink, then another, swapping between various oversized bottles at the table.

Suddenly, you’re on your third drink, and Ollie is leaning in, whispering something. A joke, maybe. You laugh politely, but his words don’t register, because your eyes, and your attention, are elsewhere.

They’re across the room, on Max Verstappen, who stands, leaning against the bar, stirring his drink lazily, completely uninterested in the girl clinging to his arm. You noticed him the moment he walked in, crisp white shirt just loose enough to leave everything to the imagination.

Ollie’s hand falls to your knee, and he leaves it there. It’s a light touch, barely there, full of the shyness you’ve grown to expect of him. You don’t pull away. Not today, when he’s so happy to be here with you.

That’s the problem—when it comes to Ollie, you just can’t bring yourself to break his heart. Part of you wishes you could lean into his touch; wishes you could feel the same way about him as he feels about you. It would make sense. And it would be so easy.

But easy isn’t what you’re looking for. You knew that the first time you caught Max’s eye across a room, and felt the way it made your heart race, and you know it now, as you feel that same rush, even when his eyes aren’t on you.

Because you know they will be, later.

He held back, the first time. Told you it would be wrong, that you were too young for him. But you kept looking up at him with those wide, pleading eyes, and you’d seen something in him snap, before he pinned your hands above you and fucked you up against his wall.

After that, you were obsessed. Couldn’t go out without searching for him in a crowd. Couldn’t have a casual hookup without picturing his hands on you. Certainly couldn’t let Ollie touch you.

Max Verstappen had utterly ruined you.

Hearing your name pulls your attention back to Ollie, and when you look at him blankly, he laughs and repeats himself.

“I said, that I’ve converted you into a Ferrari fan, haven’t I?”

“Oh,” you laugh, looking up at Lando, and Charles Leclerc sat next to him. “I suppose, but I’m mostly just an Ollie fan.”

Ollie’s hand grips your knee a little tighter, as he leans into you and smiles. Then, he falls back into conversation with the lads, and you let your gaze wander ahead of you. There, instead of finding Max Verstappen at the bar, you find him directly across from you, settling himself in a seat.

“Max, mate!” shouts Lando, jumping to his feet when he notices him. “I didn’t know you were here!”

He stands back up, greeting Lando with one of those half-hugs that men always seem to know how to do. Then Ollie gets up too, with a grin.

“Hi Max, have you two met?” he asks, pointing to you.

Max’s eyes meet yours, and he tilts his head, a smile toying at his lips. “I don’t think we have,” he says, extending his hand.

You stand up and take it, the contact immediately sending a warmth through your body. “It’s nice to meet you, Max,” you reply.

When you sit back down, Ollie lets his hand rest slightly higher up your thigh, thumb gently stroking you as he talks to the boys.

You try to avoid Max’s gaze for as long as you can, but looking at him is inevitable. Something about his presence draws you to him.

When you finally do look at him, he’s made himself comfortable. His legs are spread, and he’s leaning back in his chair, lazily stirring his drink as he looks back right back at you.

He makes no effort to conceal the way his eyes fall to your breasts, then your thighs, where Ollie’s hand is still sat.

He licks his lips, as he looks back at you, and it’s enough to make heat pool at your core.

You shift in your seat, ever so slightly. It’s a miniscule movement, but he sees it, and he immediately knows he’s got you. He watches, carefully, as you adjust your dress, pulling it down in an attempt to regain some modesty.

It doesn't matter, though, because you know Max is undressing you in his mind. He smirks, and you shift again, chasing what little friction the tiny underwear you’ve got on can provide. When you cross your legs, the feeling is so perfect you actually let out a sigh.

At this movement, Ollie turns to you, leaning in so close his breath warms your ear. “Are you okay?” he whispers.

“Yeah,” you reply, moving to stand. “Just need the toilet, that’s all.” Then, without looking back, you get up and run to the bathroom.

You’re still not quite used to how nice the bathrooms are in expensive clubs like this. Usually, you expect a women’s bathroom to be full of every type of girl; someone crying about her ex, someone violently throwing up, someone convincing herself not to get back with her ex, someone sniffing something.

This bathroom has individual cubicles, with their own mirror and sink, and smells like roses.

You lock yourself in one and immediately stare at yourself in the mirror.

Get it together, you try to tell yourself, but the thought is interrupted, by another, more pressing one.

 Max’s bicep, tensed, wrapped around your neck from behind as you bite into it hard, holding back a moan.

His skilled fingers rub circles against your clit, so overstimulated that tears prickle at the corners of your eyes.

“That’s it, princess,” he mutters into your hair, “One more, for me.”

You run the cold tap, shoving as much of your arm as you can fit under it, trying, and failing, to mimic the effects of a cold shower.

“Shit.” You whisper, feeling heat pool at your thighs once more.

You do your best to calm down, and return to the booth, slightly unsteady on your feet. When you get there, however, you find both Max and Ollie missing.

Charles spots you right away, and points towards the dancefloor. “He’s with Kimi,” he shouts, just loud enough that you can hear him over the music.

You nod, mouthing a quick thank you, before heading in the direction he pointed. You don’t go straight to Ollie though. No, you go straight to the bar, because if Max is gone, he knows you won’t be long behind him, and you need just a little bit more liquid courage for that.

You down an incredibly overpriced shot of tequila, refusing the lime, then turn to the dancefloor, spotting the boys immediately.

You slide your arm around Ollie’s waist, half interrupting his conversation with Kimi Antonelli. “I’m calling it an early night,” you say, leaning in close enough that he can hear you over the music.

His face falls. “What? Already?”

“Long day,” you explain, pulling him in for a hug. “But I’m so proud of you. Have the best night.”

He lets his head fall against yours, pouting. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I am. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispers, before you pull away from the hug and give him and Kimi a final wave goodbye.

The drive back to the hotel is excruciating. The taxi driver tries his best to make small talk with you, but your replies are short, full of the tension building within you. Eventually, he gives up.

You take the stairs up, instead of the lift, and end up on the third floor. You walk down the corridor and stop in front of room 316.

You don’t rummage through your bag for your key, because it’s not your room you’ve walked to. No, with three firm knocks at the door, you invite yourself into Max Verstappen’s hotel room.

When he opens the door, he doesn’t bother hiding the way he looks you up and down, taking in just how much skin you’ve got on display.

He looks like sex on legs, in black suit trousers, with his white shirt buttoned down just enough to be intimate, and a gin and tonic in one hand.

You walk in without a word, and it feels like the door closes in slow-motion. But when it does close, barely a second passes before Max’s hand brushes against your jaw, the touch feather-light as he lets his eyes drop to your mouth. Then, his mouth is on yours, tongue parting your lips as his hand tangles back into your hair and pulls, the move so sharp and sudden it forces you to moan against him.

“Yeah?” He mutters, mouth still flush against yours.  

You nod, and he pulls harder, enough so that you dig your fingernails into his back, pressing your hips into his. He walks backwards, dragging you with him until his thighs hit the bed.

He pulls away from the kiss, lifting you on top of him, so you straddle him when he sits. Your dress rises as you adjust yourself, and he pulls it up further, so it bunches at your waist, revealing your black lace thong. He hisses in a breath, as his hands fall to your ass, fingers digging in so hard it feels like they could bruise, then grabbing at you greedily.

He nestles his mouth against the base of your throat, biting just hard enough to make you gasp, then following up the contact with a soft swipe of his tongue. Your head falls back as he continues up your neck, and you feel his trousers tighten underneath you with each little noise that falls from your mouth.

At the same time, his hands run up your stomach, under your dress. You shiver at the contact, his hands cool against your flushed skin, and you lean into it, desperate for any touch you can get.

“This comes off,” he says, ripping himself from you just long enough to pull the dress off over your head.

Then, his attention is on your breasts. His hand caressing one, his mouth firm on the other. First, he runs his tongue flat across your nipple, then he sucks, hard enough that your head falls forward against his, and you tangle your hands in his hair as you let out a whimper.

You grind against him, wishing you didn’t have panties separating you from the delicious friction of his trousers, and he lets out a hiss, pinching your nipple, then rolling it between his fingers.

“Patience,” he whispers, dragging his teeth across the now-sensitive skin.

When you look down at him, you realise just how many marks he’s already left behind, and blush. He catches this look, and locks eyes with you, as he leaves another, right by your collarbone.

Before you can react, he picks you up and flips you over, so you’re on your back looking up at him. Finally, he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties and pulls them down.

He doesn’t give you a second to think, or breathe, before he’s spreading your legs, two fingers circling your clit. It’s painfully slow, at first. The way he makes you wait, hips flinching up with each tiny movement, eyes locked on yours.

Then he pushes in one finger. Just one, but you moan nonetheless, grateful for the feeling of anything inside you right now. He lets out a laugh, low and controlled, as he drops to his knees before you, pushing in a second finger and curling both upwards.

“Do you want more, princess?” he asks, slowly moving his fingers back and forth, your whole body twitching each time he hits that perfect spot.

You squirm, unable to find the words to tell him you do want more, you want him faster, harder, deeper in every way.

He just laughs again, as he stills his movement.

“You’ll have to use your words,” he continues, thumb brushing against your clit.

It’s pathetic, how wound up he’s able to get you with just his fingers, and you know it. He’s told you before, how much he loves it—seeing you, completely desperate for him to let you come undone.

You squeeze your eyes shut, managing to gasp out, “more,”

“Good girl,” he hums, planting a kiss against your bellybutton.

And you’ve told him how much you love that—being his perfect, good girl. You outright moan at the words, tension in your stomach building further.

“You act all innocent out there,” he mutters into your stomach, fingers still curled up into you. “Snuggled up to him. Letting him believe he’s got a chance.”

You moan, hips twitching upwards, needing more.

“And I’m the only one who knows you’re soaking wet, squirming, thinking about what I’m going to do to you later.”

His fingers slow their pace, hitting just the right spot that makes you choke out a soft, “Please,”

“Drives me insane.”

He presses your thigh down into the mattress with his free hand, clicking his tongue as he does. He doesn’t make you wait much longer, though, because a second later his mouth is on your clit, tongue flat, drawing circles that force another whimper from you. He smiles up at you, increasing the speed of his fingers, pumping in and out until you’re breathless, right on the verge of climax—then he stops.

“But you get off on it, don’t you princess? Knowing how fuckin’ worked up you get me?”

He pulls his fingers out completely, and you flinch at the sudden emptiness. When he stands, you’re almost shocked as you remember he’s still fully clothed, despite your complete nakedness.

He drags his fingers across your mouth, and you open it, letting him in. He pushes his fingers in further, until you gag, just a little, but you don’t flinch away. He lets his hand rest there as you suck them clean, tears welling in your eyes.

“Taste so good, don’t you?” he says, breathing heavily as he looks down at you.

You nod, and he finally pulls his fingers away, running a thumb along your mouth after he does.

You try to sit up, ready to feel his skin, sticky with sweat by now. You’ve memorised the way his muscles feel underneath you, run your tongue along every inch of him. Told him how fucking obsessed you are with his body.

But he shakes his head, pushing you back against the bed and dropping to his knees once more. He hooks his arms around your thighs, and pulls you to the end of the bed, so his face is directly in line with your core. This time, he doesn’t tease you, he just buries his head in your pussy like a starving man, and eats.

His tongue suctions around your clit, sucking and biting, as his skilled fingers fuck into you, completely relentless now, so deep you feel like you could explode. You wrap your legs around his head, tangling your hands in his hair, doing absolutely anything you can to get him closer to you.  

Pleas fall out of your mouth, barely coherent as he pushes your thighs down into the mattress, fingers curling up so perfectly you start to see stars.

But what really does it is him looking up, and, between breaths, moaning into you, “My fucking perfect girl.”

You unravel completely, legs twitching around him, head falling back around the mattress. You feel yourself clench around his fingers, and he leaves them there long enough for you to catch your breath, before he pulls them out.

He licks his fingers like they’re covered in icing, and the sight alone is almost enough to make you come again. But you don’t. Now, you sit up on the edge of the bed and grab at his shirt, pulling him towards you.

He doesn’t protest this time.

You work your way down the buttons, letting your hands run across his chest, taking your time with him. He hums, impatient, and you roll your eyes, dropping to your knees.

As you unbutton his belt, you feel yourself throbbing, aching for the feeling of him filling you up, marking you as his once again.

You pull down his boxers, freeing his cock, and you have to stop yourself from gasping. You’ve seen it before, but each time, you seem to forget just how perfect it is. How well it fills you up.

You place a kiss on his tip, tongue gently lapping up the precum pooling at it. He looks down at you, as you run your tongue up and down the base of his cock, in lazy, painfully slow strokes, and his hips buck forwards when your hand joins you, cupping his balls.

As you take him in fully, tongue flat against his base, his hand grasps your hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail. You bob up and down, slowly, a few times, reminding yourself of his size. When you’re sure you can take it, you look up at him, eyes wide, and give him a nod. It’s subtle, but he notices it immediately, and lets himself lose control.

His hips buck against you, as he slams himself into the back of your throat, groaning as you gag around him.

He fucks himself into your mouth, tears forming in your eyes, as you watch him struggle to stay in one piece. You dig your nails into his thigh, desperate to leave behind marks, obsessed with the feeling of his muscles tensing underneath you.

“Taking me so well, such a good girl” he pants, holding your head in place for just a moment longer as you choke, before he slows his movements, and lets go of your hair, releasing control back to you.

You let your tongue swirl against his tip once more, before pulling off him, letting saliva drip down your chin.

There’s no argument about what happens next. No struggle to be in control, no attempt to slow things down to a painful halt. You’re both desperate for the feeling of him deep inside you.

He lifts you up, effortlessly—one of your favourite features of his athletic build—and tosses you against the bed. You barely have a second to adjust yourself before he’s over you, hands braced each side of your head. He lowers himself against you, and your mouths meet again. You run your tongue along his lower lip, and his mouth opens ever so slightly, kissing you deeper again.

Your hips grind up against his, and a deep, low noise rasps from the back of his throat. That’s as much as he can take, before he leans back, lining himself up with your core.

He lets his tip brush against your clit, then circle your entrance for a moment, before he pushes himself into you. It’s so deep, so completely perfect, that your eyes flutter shut.

“Fuck,” you whisper, locking your hands around his neck, pulling him back into you.

He stays perfectly still like that, breathing against your neck, while you adjust to his size.

When you eventually give him a small nod, he pulls out, slowly, before thrusting back in, hard. His fingers dig into your shoulders as he thrusts back and forth, watching the way your body reacts to him, how each movement of his rips pulls another moan from you, the way you can barely think when he’s inside you.

“What would he say, if he could see you now?” Max pants, against your mouth. “His girl, so tight around my cock?”

“Your girl,” you whimper, fingernails digging into his back once again.

“That’s right,” he groans, filling you up so perfectly you can’t imagine ever fucking anyone else, “Nobody can make you feel this good.”

His hand drops down, and his fingers find your clit again, rubbing fast, tiny circles. Your breathing speeds up again, and he doesn’t stop for even a second as you bite into his shoulder, his thrusts speeding up, driving you to the edge.

“Bet he’s never heard this noise,” he whispers, right as you feel your orgasm rip through you, the moan that comes out completely involuntary.

“No, just you Max.” You gasp, eyes screwed shut as he keeps going, fucking you right through it.

 “That’s right, princess”

You feel his thrusts lose control, now, messy and unrelenting as he reaches his release, locking eyes with you as he pushes into you, deep, one final time. You feel him fill you up, cum dripping from you as he pulls out, breathing hard, and walks to the bathroom.

You fall back against the bed, eyes fluttering closed as you pant, completely breathless. Faintly, you hear water running, but you can’t concentrate. You feel like you’ve quite literally had the life fucked out of you.

 When Max returns, he slides his arms under you, the touch so much softer than before, and carries you to the bathroom.

He lowers you into the bath, warm water delicious against your sore muscles, and you let out a soft whine. With a cloth, he softly wipes your skin, which is sticky with sweat.

You let your head rest against his shoulder as he cleans you, and he kisses your forehead with a gentle whisper of, “Perfect girl.”

[ladymarvel27]

Disconnected | Max Verstappen

dad!Max Verstappen x mom!Reader

Description: Max returns back home after a long stint of racing but rather than feeling welcomed, he feels a bit disconnected with his family.

Word count: 1.4K

f1 masterlist

Max had been very happy from past these days. And it wasn’t because of winning last two races or the gt3 only at his debut.

He was excited to see his beloved wife and two adorable daughters.

After a long span of racing consecutively for three weekends, he was now missing all of them. He hoped they would be happy to see him after long time. A smile as bright as the sunlight was plastered on his face as he pulled his car into the driveway. The only thought in his mind was to see the look on their face when he arrives back unannounced.

Holding his suitcase and another bag full of gifts for his girls, he turns the key on the main door, excited at the thought of surprising them. He sneaks inside, waddling to the living room where they probably would be and he announced his arrival.

“Hey everyone!” He chimes seeing them. But to his dismay, the girls shrieked, “Papa!” Both them immediately picked up the scattered stuff on the floor. His heart dropped as they gave him a small ‘hi’ and rushed upstairs with all the stuff, his gaze following their movement.

“Welcome home, my love,” his wife greeted, who stood at the doorway, with a smile on her face.

“Hello babe,” he greeted her back and pointing to girls, he asks “what happened to these two?”

She chuckles at him. Shaking her head, she answers, “You were away for too long, I guess.”

Max felt his stomach dropping. Was he racing too much which is causing him to miss out being father to his two amazing girls?

“Go take a bath,” she spoke, “I am going to setup dinner.” He nods and turned to the stairs.

“Stop!” She suddenly yelled, making him jerk back.

“What happened?” He asks.

“I have set a bath for you in here,” she points to bathroom downstairs. He narrows his gaze incredulously but then smiles and goes inside.

After shower, he dresses up in his usual clothes. Might as well throw in a red bull t-shirt. He is Max Verstappen after all, couldn’t get over his habits, but she had already handed him clothes. When he comes out dressed up, two plates of delicious looking dinner were already served on the table.

“Just two?” He asked, “What about the girls?”

She slapped the air, “They are asleep. Come quickly, the dinner is getting cold.” She dismissed him so casually as if they were no one to him, as if he was a absent father. And here comes his busy racing career into his mind, which he never took into consideration until now.

“Come!” His wife’s voice interrupted his train of thought. He simply nods and takes a seat on the table.

“But isn’t it too early for their bedtime?” He asks, slowly settling in the chair.

“They were tired.” She stated simply. Simply lovely? Not this situation. It didn’t feel like a race win situation. Instead, it felt like he was missing out something important. And missing out on his daughters’ life was actually something much more important to think about.

“Babe?” Again, his beloved spoke up, “Didn’t like the food?”

“No-no no, that’s not,” he immediately replied and picked up his fork to start eating, trying to shake these thoughts away.

He didn’t realised but he already finished his food super quick. Time passed so quickly, she was busy on her phone so they both didn’t even chat a little. He felt disconnected to his family. She asked if he wanted more, but he refused, didn’t wanted to eat much since his girls weren’t eating with him. Their absence and the thought of being a careless father killed his appetite.

“Love, I only served half for one person,” she insisted, but he shook his head, saying, “I am not in mood for eating any-” when he suddenly noticed Emilie, the oldest one, rushing towards the stairs with a big box in her hand.

“What is that millie?” He interrupted her, making her steps faltering, “What’s in the box?” He asks again. Her eyes darting here and there in nervously, which made it clear she was hiding something.

“No-nothing!” she replied, and immediately rushed upstairs. Max turned and frowned, seeing his wife signalling Emily to go, who immediately stopped her hand signal when she sees him looking.

“Care to explain?” He asks his wife, who went back into texting on her phone. He raised his eyebrows and cleared his throat to catch her attention. She raised her head from the phone to look at him but was immediately interrupted by the sound of cry. He turned to see the youngest one, Kristi, was standing on the doorway, crying. He immediately rushed to pick her up in his arms. She kept sobbing uncontrollably against his chest.

“What happened my little princess?” He asks, caressing her back, “Who hurt my little girl?”

“Pa-p-” she kept sobbing, not being clearly able to say anything, making his heart break at the sight, until she finally spoke up, “I-I-I saw a nightmare.”

“Aww,” he pities and cradled her tightly in his arms.

“Can-can we,” she stammers, “go outside?” Max nods, his lips trebling a little at the sight of Kristi’s tears. He tightly wrapped his arms around Kristi and took her outside.  

The moon shined brightly in the sky as he made his way into the backyard where he had installed a swing some years ago when Kristi was born. She smiled slowly at the sight of him approaching the swing. She looked up at him smiling when he settled into it and he gives her a goofy smile back, which made her let out a low giggle.

She snuggled up to him and he wrapped his arms around her. Caressing her back, they both swayed together on the swing. Max let out a calm sigh, feeling bits of connecting back to the family. He kept swaying her in his arms as they both swing together.

Moments later, Kristi stirred in his arms. He put her besides. The swing picked up the pace and Kristi laughed, enjoying the swinging. The sound of her laughing ringed in his ears, making his grin wider. He laughed with her.

After enjoying the swing, he took her hand and went inside. She tugged on his hand, pointing towards his room.

“Princess,” he frowns, pointing to opposite direction, “your room’s there.”

She shakes her head and says, “Just come papa.” Her voice sweet and innocent, hiding a little secret, he wonders what she wants him to do.

They reach to his room’s door and she knocks gently, speaking into door, “Mama, I brought Papa.”

“Come inside!” A voice replies.

Max looks down at Kristi. “Open the door, papa,” she pointed towards to the door. His eyes dart around in confusion, wondering what is happening. He gives a thought and reaches for the door handle, pushing it down slowly.

Confetti bursts in front of him, making his eyes widen in surprise as he shouts. His wife was standing in the middle where a table was decorated and a big and lovely cake was placed. Emily shouts along with his wife, “Happy birthday!!”

 Kirsti claps and holds his hand, “Happy birthday, papa.” Max’s heart fluttered with joy as he blushed heavily. Kristi guides him toward the table where his beloved and Emily were standing. He looks down at the cake, with a cat sitting on its top.

“Oh hell,” he spoke, cackling when he notices the same box disposed in the corner “That’s’ what you guys were hiding,” he comments, looking around the room, which they had decorated very lovingly, his name sparkling in his favourite colours and the girls' artwork being the main part of it. He noticed a drawing of his recent win, another one of his last year's championship and so many more important memories they held close to their hearts.

His wife chuckled, “Of course, what did you thought?”

“I felt-I just. It felt like I was away for too long and you guys are, you know, mad at me because I am always racing.”

She laughs and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “You are indeed busy racing too much that you forgot it was your birthday.” Max pulled her closer and pressed his forehead against her, “I am sorry,” he spoke. She smiles and replies, “I forgive you.” “I love you,” he said softly. His lips about reach hers but Emily voice interrupted, “Papa! The candles ending!” Both pulled away quickly. Max turned towards Emily and scooped her in his arm, “Of course my love,” he turned around, “and where- uh” and turns to see Kristi looking at him wide eyes. He immediately picks her up in his other arms, “Great,” he comments turning to see his wife smiling at the sight of him holding up both of their daughters.

“Let’s blow the candles, my girls!” He roars and Kristi squeals in excitement.

A/n : Thanks to @itsjustvs4 for proofreading. Seperators credits to @uzmacchiato

[pucksandpaddock]

And they call it puppy love - OP81

Oscar Piastri x Reader Word count: 1100 Summary: A rescue puppy, one stubborn Formula One driver, and the exact moment Oscar Piastri realizes he's already lost the argument. Genre: fluff, Humor, Established Relationship, Pet Adoption, Domestic Fluff

Masterlist

♡------------------------♡-------------------------♡

“Just so we are clear, this is not a commitment.”

You looked over at him from the passenger seat.

Oscar kept his eyes on the road, one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other on your lap, like it was a perfectly normal sentence to open a Saturday morning with.

You blinked.

“Okay?”

“We are just looking, we are not getting a dog today,” he continues.

“You have said that six times already.”

“And I meant it every time.”

You smiled to yourself, turning to face forward, “Okay, whatever you say.”

For the past few months, you have been sending Oscar every single vaguely cute dog video that appeared on your FYP.

Golden retriever puppies, tiny rescues, those ridiculously fluffy white dogs that looked like walking clouds.

And every single time his responses range from:

Absolutely not.

No, we travel too much.

you cried over Leo in a sweater yesterday. I am not encouraging that.

And yet here he was.

Driving the two of you to an animal rescue center twenty minutes outside Monaco.

You folded your arms. “So this isn’t you giving in?”

Oscar snorted. “No.”

“This feels like giving in.”

“This is me proving a point.”

You frowned.

“What point?”

“That looking at dogs for an hour will satisfy whatever this is.”

You just stared blankly at him, “Whatever this is?”

He glanced in your direction.

“This emotional campaign."

You gasped. “I have not been emotionally campaigning.

Oscar glanced at you again, “You made me watch a three minute long video of a puppy falling asleep in someone’s slippers last night.”

“That was compelling evidence.”

“It was emotional manipulation.”

You just smiled.

He shook his head, though you did catch the corner of his mouth twitch upwards.

Twenty minutes later, Oscar’s whole point had officially fallen apart.

You were crouched on the floor of the rescue center playroom, gently stroking a tiny brown puppy with oversized ears, which was currently sniffing at Oscar's trainers.

“Oh my god, Oscar, look at her.”

Oscar, who had spent the first five minutes insisting he was simply watching, was now sitting beside you, letting the puppy chew on the laces of his trainer.

“I am looking.” The shelter worker smiled knowingly.

“She likes you,” 

he glanced down.

The puppy was now sitting on his shoe. “I think she likes shoelaces.”

The women laughed. “That too.”

A small smile graced your lips.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Because this was the same man who, in the car ride here, had delivered a speech about responsibility and schedules, and that this “was not a commitment.”

Now he was absentmindedly scratching under the puppy's chin while he asked the worker.

“What's her name?”

“Millie.”

“How old is she?”

“About four months.”

Oscar nodded seriously. “Has she had all her vaccinations?”

You raised an eyebrow.

Oscar ignored you.

“Any health issues?”

The shelter worker shook her head. “She’s in great shape, just very energetic.”

Oscar looked down at the puppy, who chose that exact moment to launch itself halfway into his lap.

Oscar steadied her automatically.

Millie licked his wrist.

You smiled again, “Oh no.”

Oscar looked up. “What?”

“You’re attached.” He gave you a flat look in return.

“I am not attached.”

“You are literally holding her like a baby.”

Oscar looked down. Millie had somehow managed to curl herself against his chest.

He just adjusted his grip, “for safety.”

You laughed. “Sure you are.”

The worker excused herself, leaving the two of you alone with her.

You moved closer to them.

The tiny puppy in his arms turned to look at you, its tiny tail wagging.

Oscar looked deeply unimpressed.

“She has no respect.”

“She’s a baby and she already loves you.”

Oscar sighed.

Millie chewed on his hoodie strings.

You watched as Oscar reached up and carefully removed it from her tiny teeth, very gently, very fondly.

Honestly, this was becoming a little embarrassing for him.

“So.”

Oscar kept his eyes on her, “So.”

“Are we still just looking?”

“Yep.”

Millie sneezed, and Oscar frowned.

“Do you think she is cold?”

You stared at him, “Oscar.”

“What?”

You laughed. “Oh, my god.”

He finally looked over at you. “You are so dramatic.”

“I’m dramatic?” you repeated. “You’re the one who just asked if she is cold. We are indoors.”

Oscar opened his mouth, closed it, then looked back down at the puppy resting in his arms.

“That’s not the point.”

“No, I think it very much is.”

There was a moment of silence.

Millie shifted, getting herself comfortable before falling asleep in his arms.

Oscar went very still.

You watched his face closely.

And there it was, the exact second he lost his argument.

You smiled.

“Oscar.”

He let out a slow breath.

“We can’t leave her here.”

You burst out laughing.

Oscar looked mildly offended.

“That’s not funny.”

“You lasted less than half an hour!”

“She chose me.”

“Yes, that is generally how this works.”

Oscar shook his head once, still looking down at Millie sleeping in his arms.

“This feels targeted.”

You wiped your eyes.

“This morning you said this was not a commitment.”

Oscar finally glanced at you.

“It still isn’t.”

You looked pointedly at the sleeping puppy in his lap.

“Oscar.”

He paused, then sighed.

“Fine,” he muttered. “It’s a moderate commitment.”

You laughed and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“You are so easy.”

“No, I’m compassionate.”

“You’re whipped by a twelve pound rescue dog.”

Oscar looked back down at her, Millie twitched in her sleep, and Oscar’s entire expression softened.

“Potentially.”

Later that evening, after paperwork and an emergency pet shop trip that Oscar had taken far too seriously, the three of you ended up back at the apartment.

You walked into the living room carrying shopping bags.

And stopped.

Oscar was stretched out on the couch.

Millie tucked against his chest.

Both of them were asleep, the tiny dog bed you bought sat completely untouched on the floor.

You stood there for a moment, trying not to laugh.

This was the very same man who had claimed he was only going to look.

Slowly, you pulled your phone out and took a picture.

Oscar’s eyes cracked open at the sound.

“You’re taking evidence, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

He shut his eyes again. “This proves nothing.”

You smiled, setting the bags down before moving closer.

Millie shifted further into Oscar, and Oscar instinctively tucked the blanket around her.

You looked at him, then at the dog, then back at him. “Still not attached?”

Oscar opened one eye.

There was a pause, then, very quietly. “She might need my surname.”

♡------------------------♡-------------------------♡

Authors note: Inspired by my friend who just got a new puppy and by the men who always say "We're not getting a dog," but will end up being obsessed with the dog.

[lhovely55]

”I know what it means to you” - LN4

Summary: Lando norris x reader. Getting coffee from some coffee shop is your favorite thing, not your bank accounts tho. Luckily your Lando is there to save you.

Word count: 473 short & sweet.

Find more fics here ->

—

Coffee is a important step in your daily life. You love making at home, but something in getting the coffee from cute coffeeshop is just different. Your bank account don’t appericiate this that much tho, and well you don’t always have money to get ones. Sometimes you get one even when it wouldn’t be the best choice.

You and Lando are walking the streets of London, it’s a quiet day and no one is really around. Getting to spend time just the two of you.

You walk in front of some cute little coffeeshop and bakery, and you stop. Lando keeps walking until your hand slips away from his, and he stops looking what your looking at.

He smiles seeing into your mind immediatly when he notices the coffee and bakery. ”You wanna get some baby?” He asks walking back to you, taking your hand in his.

You look back up to him, you smile and then look down a little. ”yeahhh but I really should not get coffee I have already spent all of my this months coffee budget.” You hear little cuckle from up close and look back at Lando.

He just leads you inside with him, opening the door for you to go inside first. You look at him weirdly. ”Didn’t you hear lan?” You ask.

”I did baby. Now what do you take? I might take just regular black coffee. Maybe tiny bit of oat milk, you like it didn’t you? Is it really good?” You think if he still heard you and look at him all confused.

He stares back at you, little smirk in his lips. ”Well? Caramel iced latte? With oat milk? Huh baby?” He says and steps to the counter where the casher stands.

”Lan, I said that I don’t have money to buy. So no…thank you tho.” You say walking to a little bar styled waiting table and sit down. Taking your phone out of your backpocket and start scrolling a little.

After little over few minutes Lando comes to you, setting down your and his coffee. You look at him. ”Lan. You did not get me coffee. I said no thank you…” you say muttering the end.

He just smiles. ”I know what it means to you, baby.” He says and puts a lid to your coffee, giving it a little shaking mix. ”Now drink, enjoy and don’t you dare say anything that you don’t deserve me. You do. Let’s go.” He hops from his stool and offers you his hand.

You smile, takes his hand and coffee to another. He leads you out and you walk few meters before you thank him. ”Thank you lan. This is really nice.” You say looking at him.

”Your welcome baby, I love you.” He says and kisses your hair softly.

”I love you too.”

[mrspiastri]

✩ angel baby ?? 👼

pairing: lando norris x reader

cw: fluff, a little bit more fluff, tiny bit angsty nothing tooo bad

wc: 2.9k words

an: IM BACK BITCHES, based on this req!

When this debate had started, you could not remember, but now you were trying your best to not show how red your face looked as you laughed along with the rest of the table.

It was a regular post-race dinner, and Carlos was talking about how he couldn’t think of dating a fan of his.

“I just don’t think I could. I mean, what if they only like me for the money or this sweet bod?” You tried to stifle a grin.

You didn’t think much of it until your own boyfriend chimed in.

“Me too, it would weird me out, y’know?”

Now, you should have probably mentioned this to Lando at some point during the beginning of your relationship. But to be fair, he never asked, and you’d also only been dating for 8 months—so is it really such a crime to have not told him? You’d never found the chance to tell him you were a major fan of his prior to you meeting.

Of course, you recognised him when you first met—which was at a dinner party hosted in his honour for the company you worked at, who happened to be one of McLaren’s sponsors.

You internally tried your best to not lose your mind when you saw him, choosing to hide with your colleagues as they teased you for how worked up you seemed.

But what you hadn’t expected was for him to walk over to you with two flutes of champagne and then spend the entire night in conversation, with him even sneaking out early with you to get gelato and walk you home.

Ever the gentleman, he made sure to get you home safe and even waited till you reached your apartment—but not before getting your number and a promise that you’d meet him for lunch the next day.

You didn’t sleep a wink that night, too overwhelmed at the idea of going out to lunch with maybe your favourite male celebrity. And if there was a mini helmet of his from Silverstone 2024 on your bedside table, that was nobody’s business but your own.

Okay, maybe you weren’t a psycho stalker fangirl or whatever, but you did know your way around the fandom. You could list all his wins in chronological order, his podiums at each circuit, and could claim to be an owner of at least 4 (!) ln4 hoodies.

You never really admitted you used to be a fan because it was plainly embarrassing. Not to mention, it wasn’t like you actively hid it; you just didn’t care enough to remember.

Now, however, with him talking about not dating a fan, you couldn’t help but sip your wine a bit nervously as you nodded along. It was safe to say you and Lando were still in the honeymoon phase of your relationship, but honestly neither of you ever thought it would stop.

To say you were enamoured by each other was an understatement, especially with the man completely wrapped around your finger—you could ask him for the world, and he’d show up with it and the stars too.

But with this new revelation, you weren’t sure how to really bring up the topic.

🪻🪻🪻

The next morning, after Lando woke you up to the scent of eggs frying and coffee being brewed, you decided to bring your line of questioning forward. He placed your plate in front of you along with your morning latte, and in that moment you tried to bring up last night’s conversation as nonchalantly as possible.

“So, last night was kind of silly, huh?’

“Whaddya mean?” He replied through a mouthful of toast.

"You know, the whole 'I’d never date a fan' thing you and Carlos were talking about. ” You took a sip as you tried to not make eye contact.

“How was that silly?”

“Like, it’s a bit childish, no? What’s wrong with being with a fan?”

“It’s just weird, like, how do I know you’re not with me because of the fame and all that?” Lando argued.

You didn’t have a response to that without sounding weird for arguing over the subject, so you let it go.

Lando, however, didn’t.

He didn’t think much of it at first. He had just shrugged and continued eating, too focused on trying not to burn his tongue on the eggs he insisted on making for you every Saturday morning.

He found it kind of funny at first. The way you suddenly seemed defensive over the topic. He didn’t think too much of it in the moment, but after he kissed your cheek and cleared your plate, he caught himself thinking about it again as he stood at the sink, running water over your empty mug.

But later, while you were out on the balcony, curled up with your laptop and replying to emails, Lando stood in the kitchen drying a mug and thinking about what you’d said.

He played the memory back in his head more times than he’d admit, narrowing in on the way you fidgeted with your coffee spoon, how you didn’t meet his eyes. He didn’t like it when you looked unsure, especially not around him.

Still, life carried on. He flew off to another race weekend while you stayed back to finish a big work presentation, and your FaceTime calls stayed as sappy and full of inside jokes as ever. If anything, he only missed you more.

He didn’t bring up the fan thing again, not when he had you smiling sleepily at him over a video call at 1 am, wrapped in your fluffy robe with your hair still damp from a shower.

He didn’t even think about it when you sent him a care package to his hotel, with snacks and vitamins and a small note that said “you got this, superstar.” He even found himself re-reading that note like a lovesick idiot while sitting in the team garage between sessions.

You, on the other hand, were doing your absolute best not to spiral. The guilt wasn’t huge, but it was persistent, like a little pebble in your shoe. You’d been such a fan, not just a casual “oh yeah, he’s a good driver” kind of fan.

You were active on Twitter, defending him to the death, posting edits of him and liking every one of his photos that came on your timeline.

But you’d changed; that version of you had been real, but so was this one. The same girl who had Lando's toothbrush in her bathroom and who knew exactly how he liked his tea. You weren’t faking anything.

Still, something about admitting the truth just felt risky. What if he took it the wrong way? What if he thought the whole relationship was some long game, like you’d schemed your way into his life?

So you didn’t tell him. And time passed.

You watched more races, cheered from the sidelines or from the hotel room, always with your heart in your throat. You memorised his travel schedule better than your own. You kissed him good luck in the mornings and held him close at night when he was too tired to speak. And Lando just fell harder.

Every time he saw you waiting for him in the paddock, holding out your arms for a hug and smiling like he was the only one in the world, he swore he’d never get used to it. He was so gone for you.

🪻🪻🪻

“Don’t you get bored of me always talking about racing?” Lando questioned you as you shared a bowl of popcorn while watching some of his racing clips. He liked doing that sometimes; it was a way for him to check his mistakes while also being able to observe his victories.

“If I were bored of racing, I don’t think I’d be in a relationship with a racing driver, now would I?” You quipped, flicking his forehead affectionately.

He simply smiled at you, one of his signature cheesy grins, as he laid his head down on your lap.

You softly brushed your fingers through his curls, at the risk of him whining about you messing with the products he spent 20 minutes applying this morning.

The two of you were fixated on the screen, your eyes concentrated on his car zooming down the straights.

“Wait, which race are we watching again?” He questioned as he reached for the remote.

“Monaco 2022”. You replied deftly, popping a few kernels into your mouth.

Lando had a slightly amused look on his face, not expecting you to be so engrossed, but happy nonetheless.

“God, this one still makes me nervous,” you muttered, watching a particularly intense on-track battle.

Lando looked over at you, eyebrows raised. “Still?”

You froze. “I mean, it was a good race. Real classic, y’know?”

“You watched this live?”

You tried to smile casually. “Sure. With some friends.”

His eyes narrowed just a bit, suspicious but intrigued. “Wait, how do you even remember this overtake?”

You shrugged. “I guess I was into racing.”

“You were a fan.” He said it slowly, like the idea was just now clicking into place. “Of me.”

You didn’t say anything. Just pulled the blanket up higher and stared at the screen, hoping he’d move on. But he turned to face you fully, grinning now.

“No way. Wait, no. You were. That’s why you brought it up over breakfast months ago. You were embarrassed.”

“I wasn’t,” you mumbled, cheeks heating up. “I just didn’t think it was relevant.”

“You little liar!”

“I’m not!”

“Then why did you hide it?”

You shook your head, but the words were already rising in your throat. “I didn’t tell you because—I was scared.”

He frowned, tilting his head. “Scared of what?”

You played with the edge of the blanket between your fingers, not looking at him. “That you’d think I was with you for the wrong reasons. That I was just some fan trying to get her five minutes of attention or—or chasing after your money or your name or the whole WAG circus. I didn’t want you to look at me and wonder if it was all fake.”

Lando was quiet for a moment.

You could feel your heart in your ears.

“I know it sounds stupid,” you continued quickly, cheeks hot. “But you said you couldn’t date a fan, and it just stuck with me. I didn’t want to risk it. Things were too good. You were too good. I didn’t want to lose you over something so embarrassing.”

“You really thought I’d leave you over that?”

You tried to smile, but it faltered. “I just didn’t want you to think I was one of those people.”

Lando let out a breath, shaking his head. “God, you think so little of me.”

The words hit you like a slap, but before you could say anything, he reached for you. Gently, he pulled you over and settled you into his lap, your legs straddling his thighs as he held you close. His arms wrapped tight around your waist, like he needed to anchor you to him.

“Listen to me,” he said, voice steady now, no trace of laughter left. “I don’t care if you used to have posters of me on your wall. I don’t care if you knew all my stats or made edits or wrote fanfiction, for all I know. None of that matters. You matter. What we have now matters.”

You didn’t trust your voice, so you stayed quiet.

“I know you,” he whispered, fingertips tracing soft circles against your back. “You don’t care about the spotlight. You hate the cameras. You’ve never once bragged about us on social media or cared about being seen. You’re not here for the parties or the designer tags or the lifestyle. You’re here for me. And I see that every day.”

Your hands slid up to his jaw, your thumb brushing over the small scar on the bridge of his nose. He looked so serious, so impossibly sincere, it made your chest ache.

“I didn’t mean to lie,” you said softly. “I just didn’t want to ruin anything.”

He was still holding you, still cradling you in his lap like you were made of glass and something he’d never let slip through his fingers again. His hands were warm against your back, one resting at the base of your spine and the other slowly running up and down the curve of your side like he needed to remind himself you were real.

“I mean it,” he said again, voice low and sure, brushing his nose against yours. “I don’t care if you knew every stat I ever had. I don’t care if you had a shrine of mini helmets or screamed every time I got on the podium. You could’ve painted your walls neon yellow, and I’d still think you’re the most genuine person I’ve ever met.”

Your heart squeezed. “I didn’t paint my walls, but I did have a sticker on my laptop.”

He let out a soft laugh, eyes lighting up, but it was full of love now; that kind of warm, weightless love that made your skin feel sun-kissed even in the dim light of the living room.

“You’re ridiculous,” he whispered, and then leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours.

“And you’re in love with someone who once told off a stranger on Twitter for calling you overrated,” you whispered back.

“And I am so in love with her,” he said with a grin that made your stomach flip.

Then he kissed you.

His lips brushed over yours in a way that made your heart stutter and your breath catch. He kissed you like it was something he hadn’t done in a while, like he was rediscovering you. His thumb traced your cheek, his hand sliding into your hair, holding you close without crowding you.

You kissed him back with everything you had.

All the fear you’d carried, all the silly embarrassment, melted into the way he tasted—a little like the popcorn he’d eaten earlier, a little like the mints he always kept in his pocket. It was soft and familiar and brand new all at once.

He pulled back only slightly, his nose brushing yours again. “You’re mine, yeah?”

You nodded, eyes a little glossy, mouth still tingling. “Always.”

And then he kissed you again, deeper this time. His hand slid up your back, pulling you closer, like even this much space between you was too much. You could feel the way he smiled into it, could feel the quiet little sigh he let out like he’d finally exhaled after holding his breath for months.

You curled your fingers in his hair and kissed him harder, laughing softly against his mouth when he let out a quiet, dazed ‘fuck’ under his breath.

All was well, until—

“Wait, you were on Twitter?”

“…Maybe,” you mumbled, a bit disoriented by his random questioning.

His eyes lit up. “Oh my god. You did. You tweeted about me. Find them. Show me.”

“I’m not showing you anything.”

Lando was already rolling off the couch and grabbing your phone. “C'mon. You have to. Please. I’ll never ask you for anything else in my life.”

“That’s a lie, and you know it.”

“Okay, but this time I’m serious.”

Sighing dramatically, but secretly already giggling to yourself, you reached for your own phone. You opened the app and scrolled for a moment before finding it. The long-forgotten fan account: locked, dusty, and inactive for over two years.

You held it out wordlessly.

Lando took it, eager.

And then immediately burst into laughter.

“@ln4everangelbaby?! Are you kidding me?”

You snatched it back. “I was seventeen when I made that, Lando.”

He was already breathless, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “No, wait. I need a minute. Angel baby? What was that even supposed to mean?”

You covered your face with your hands. “You had these really cute photo from your debut year, and someone called you that on Tumblr, and I thought it was cute, okay?”

“Oh my god.” He leaned back, shaking with laughter. “This is better than I could have ever imagined.”

He tried to scroll, but the account was locked, and you weren’t about to log in and let him dig through the archives of your cringe era.

“Let me read some tweets,” he begged, tugging at your sleeve like a child.

“Absolutely not.”

“I’ll buy you dinner every night forever.”

“You already do that anyway.”

“I’ll take you to the Maldives for a week.”

“You’re kidding.”

But his face remained unmoved, completely serious.

“Make it two weeks.”

He hesitated. “Ten days.”

“Twelve.”

“Deal.”

You unlocked the account with the kind of grim resolve one might have before jumping into shark-infested waters and handed it back.

He kept reading out tweets in dramatic fashion, doing voices, quoting your old replies to trolls, and fake-crying when he got to a heartfelt race reaction after his first podium.

You just curled up smaller and smaller on the couch, your face buried in a pillow while Lando had the time of his life dragging you, groaning occasionally at particular posts you didn’t even remember making.

When he finally calmed down, he tossed the phone gently onto the coffee table and pulled you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I think this might be my favourite thing about you.”

You blinked up at him, confused. “My terrible teenage Twitter?”

He smiled. “No. That you loved me then, even when I was just some kid in a fast car. And you love me now, even when I’m an idiot who makes fun of your old username.”

“You really can’t let that go, can you?”

“Angel baby,” he whispered, laughing again, and you groaned and buried your face into his chest as he wrapped his arms tighter around you.

DID U GUYS MISS ME (the only answer is yes) i missed writing so much im so happy i could put this out :DD enjoy! and im so sorry it’s so short i just am so drained with my first sem in college ! :(