ੈ✩‧₊˚ "People say nothing is impossible, but I do nothing every day."
—Winnie the Pooh
Hi I'm Cait (or Cherry, or C or any of the other nicknames I've collected) / she/her / 21 🇦🇺
Welcome to my blog of reblogs where I share all the things I love (and it's alot).
Tags: #morning read - A collection of my faves + monthly rec lists #caits DEAR - Drop Everything and Read, just read them, also acts as a queue tag #caits tokens - Requests! I really appreciate them. Please keep sending them in #first look mondays - A new inative to keep myself accountable about my posting schedule.
↝ my main blog is @every-marveler-ever (I also run @thiswillbecomesomething smaus)
Come talk to me! All posts below ➴
July Morning Reads ::
August Morning Reads ::
GRILL THE GRID (EXTENDED) - op81 x reader (f1 smau)
September Morning Reads ::
WHAT YOU DO IS MAGIC - ln4 x singlemum!reader (f1 smau)
THE DRIVER CHOOSES THE WIZARD - pg10 x reader (f1, smau)
OH MISS ADMIN - aa23 x social media intern!reader (f1, smau)
ADVICE? DON'T LET THEM SAY NO - gr63 x race engineer!reader (f1, smau)
October Morning Reads ::
OUR GOLDEN GIRL - cl16 x reader (f1, smau)
LOUDEST IN THE PADDOCK - ln4 x reader (f1, smau) *requested!
EN POINTE - cs55 x ballerina!reader (f1, smau)
A DOUBLE HIT - ln4 x volleyballer!reader (f1, smau) *requested
"I'LL TAKE ALL THE TIME WE GOT LEFT" - op81 x reader (disc 💿 , f1, smau)
THAT UNWELL FEELING - ln4 x reader (f1, smau) *requested
MY FIRST YEAR - ka12 x reader (f1, smau)
"BUT WE'RE FASTER AND NEVER SCARED" - mv33 x reader (disc 💿 , f1, smau)
THE PARTY - the grid
November Morning Reads :: Misc 01
THINGS COME IN PAIRS - ln4 x reader (f1, smau) *requested
‘TIME IS MAKING FOOLS OF US' - rookie!reader no. 29 (f1. Smau)
WHAT BAKING CAN DO - fa14 x reader (f1, smau)
"THE WATER'S HIGH, AND YOU'RE JUMPING" - ln4 x reader (disc 💿, f1, smau)
December Morning Reads ::
MY NUMBER PEOPLE - ln4 x reader (f1, smau) *requested
NEXT DOOR - gb5 x reader (f1, smau)
OFF THE GRID - eo31 x reader (f1, smau)
GET CLOSE (WHAT MADE ME MEET SOMEONE LIKE YOU) - gr63 x reader (f1, smau) *requested
"WHAT'S YOUR CALLING CARD" - ll30 x reader (disc 💿, f1, smau)
"SAY IT'S BEEN A LONG SIX MONTHS" - ob87 x reader (disc 💿, f1, smau)
January Morning Reads ::
February Morning Reads ::
MOVING ON - ih6 x reader (f1, smau)
BEYOND THE SEA - ls18 x reader (f1, smau)
A HANDPICKED SPIRALING - op81 x reader (f1, smau)
BOOKCLUBS BLUES - cs55 x reader (f1, smau)
March Morning Reads ::
April Morning Reads :: 💿 thisdoesntexist - discography
MATCHING (Red Edition) - cs55 x reader (f1, smau)
"WHO KNEW GUYS STILL BROUGHT FLOWERS" - ls18 x reader (disc 💿, f1 smau)
the best fanfiction you've ever read was written by a woman in her 40s before she made dinner for her kids. it was written by a teenager after school when they should've been studying for a history test. and a barista came up with the idea while they cleaned the espresso machine and busser fact-checked it on their break and the post-doc edited between writing grant proposals and the nurse apologized for typos in the notes after a long shift and behind every drabble and one-shot and multi-chapter fic there is a person with a wonderful and interesting and chaotic life and it is such a privilege that we get to be apart of it because they decided to do this thing we all share, for fun.
Summary: Lewis Hamilton is a weak, weak man when it comes to you and your daughter.
Requested: Yes / Anon - Can you make a Lewis Hamilton one where Y/N and him have a three year old daughter and their daughter inherited Y/N's doe eyes and Lewis doesn't know how to say No to their daughter and Y/N?
Hiya, how are you? I want to let you know I love the driver!reader imagines. If you're still writing, could you write about she gets a P1, retired drivers; Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg and Mark Webber corner her during an interview, Sebastian Vettel joins them as well (like how Mark & DC did with Fernando Alonso)
driver!yn who's the retired drivers' princess
—if you were to ask any retired driver who their favorite current driver on the grid is, best believe you'll be hearing YN LN non-stop.
The paddock was chaos. Camera shutters snapped like fireworks. Mechanics leaned over the barriers trying to catch a glimpse. Reporters shouted over each other, microphones practically colliding as they pushed closer.
"And there she is—winner of this week's Grand Prix! First rookie to take P1 this season and what a drive it was from YN LN!"
Her cheecks hurt from smiling. Sweat still clung to the edges of her hairline beneath the cap, champagne sticky against her fireproofs. Her mind was hazy while the interviewer kept talking, words blurring together through the adrenaline still flooding her veins.
"Walk us through those final laps because the pressure from behind—"
"Oh, this is rubbish."
A familiar british voice cut through the media scum as Jenson physically stepped between the cameras, one hand already reaching for her shoulder.
"No, no, no," Jenson said dramatically. "You don't ask race questions first after a win like this. Has nobody taught you people anything?"
The crowd laughed instantly.
YN stared at him. "Jenson?"
Before he could answer, another voice joined.
"Move over, you're blocking the shot."
Nico appeared from nowhere, sliding into frame with the confidence of a man who still acted like he was still racing.
"You know what her problem is?" Nico said, pointing directly at YN while talking to the camera. "She's too calm. That's concerning. I would've been crying already."
"I am emotional," YN defended.
"You call blinking emotional?"
The interviewer looked seconds away from losing control of the interview entirely. Then came another arm around her shoulders.
"Don't listen to him, he's all talk."
Mark grinned beside her while the nearby journalists burst out laughing again.
"Oh, here we go," Nico groaned. "Mark's here to say something motivational."
Mark ignored him completely. "Do you know how insane that move into the first turn was?"
YN laughed so hard she almost couldn't breathe. And then the noise changed, because people noticed who had just walked up behind the group.
Sebastian still had that same calm presence about him. Hands tucked casually into his pockets, small smile on his face as he looked at YN.
"You realize," Sebastian said gently, "that every little girl watching today now thinks this is normal."
That hit harder than the win itself. Her smile faltered for a second. The paddock around her blurred into noise again.
Sebastian stepped forward before she could even think of a response and pulled her into a quick hug, one hand patting the top of her race cap.
"We're all very proud of you," he said quietly.
For the first time all afternoon, her eyes started burning. And of course, Jenson noticed immediately.
"There! There it is! Human emotion!"
"Leave me alone," she laughed, wiping under her eyes.
The interview was openly laughing now, completely abandoned by any professional structure the segment was supposed to have.
And somehow, with four retired world-class drivers crowding around her like overexcited uncles at a family barbeque, the pressure finally disappeared. Even if it was just a few minutes.
IN WHICH your son’s love for cars gets you meet your neighbor. ✉️ contains single mom! reader. fluff. pet names. use of y/n. 1k words.
You learn fast, being a boy mom, that doing one thing at a time is a luxury reserved for people who don’t have small hands tugging at them every five seconds.
Right now, you’re attempting at least three.
The grocery bags bite into the crook of your arms as you juggle your keys, your purse sliding dangerously down your shoulder. You hitch everything higher against your hip, trying to keep momentum without dropping anything.
One bag slips.
Then another.
“Mom—”
“I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” you insist, even though you absolutely do not, tightening your grip like that alone might magically fix the situation. Your son’s small hand is still wrapped in yours, warm and trusting, making it impossible to readjust properly.
Plastic crackles in the quiet garage as you fumble for the car lock, keys slipping against your fingers while the bags threaten mutiny.
You look down when your son tugs on your hand again.
“It’s broken,” Louis says for the third time, his voice small and serious. He holds out his toy car like it’s something delicate.
And to him, it is.
One tiny wheel hangs off the side.
You sigh and set everything on the hood of the nearest car so you can crouch down.
“Okay. Let me see.”
You take the toy gently, turning it in your fingers under the dim garage light.
Somewhere behind you, a car engine hums, but you barely hear it.
Louis crosses his arms. “It needs fixing.”
“I know, sweetheart. I’m trying.”
You pull your keys free and try to use one to push the wheel back into place.
It doesn’t work. Of course it doesn’t.
You let out a quiet huff.
“Mom, hurry.”
“I’m trying, I’m trying—”
Then—
“Mom!”
Louis pulls at your arm again while you’re still fighting with the tiny wheel. “Lou, just hang on—”
“Mommy, look!”
That finally makes you lift your head.
Before you can even react, Louis slips out of your reach and takes off across the garage, little shoes tapping against the concrete as he runs straight toward a dark, sleek McLaren parked a few spaces away.
You rush after him, heat already crawling up your neck.
“I’m so sorry—he just—”
But Louis reaches the man first.
He stops right in front of him, staring up with huge, amazed eyes.
Then the questions come all at once.
“Is that your car?”
“Is it fast?”
“How fast?”
“Is it faster than a Ferrari?”
“Does it go vroom or VROOOOM?”
You want the floor to open up and swallow you whole.
“I am so, so sorry—he’s really into cars—”
The man doesn’t look annoyed. Not even a little.
If anything… he looks surprised.
Then he slowly crouches down to Louis’s height. Calm. Relaxed. Like kids running at him in parking garages is something that happens every day.
“It’s mine, yeah.”
Louis gasps like he’s just met a real-life superhero.
“It’s really fast,” the man adds, thinking for a moment. “Probably… VROOOOM.”
Louis lights up.
Actually lights up.
“I KNEW IT!”
You blink.
Okay. That went… way better than you expected.
The man glances up at you then, like he suddenly remembers you exist, standing up. “It’s fine,” he says quietly. “I don’t mind.”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Do we know each other?”
“I’m your neighbor,” he says with a small smile.
Right. That explains it. You don’t exactly keep track of neighbors when you’re always doing three things at once.
“Oh—”
“I’m Oscar.” He stands and offers his hand.
“Y/n,” you say, taking it with a small smile. “And this is my son, Louis.”
Oscar looks down at Louis again.
“Do you want to see inside, buddy?”
Louis looks like he might actually pass out.
“YES.”
You hesitate, stomach tightening. “Are you sure? What if he breaks something? That thing looks really expensive.”
Oscar pauses for half a second.
Then, completely deadpan:
“I’ll take the risk.”
And that’s when you notice it.
The way he moves slowly. The way he’s careful with his words. The way he gives your son his full attention, like nothing else in the world matters right now.
Not rushed. Not annoyed.
Just… kind. Steady. Patient.
Louis is already leaning into the open door, talking a mile a minute.
“What’s this button? What does this do? Do you race? You look like you race.”
Oscar doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even blink.
He just smiles a little, soft and easy, like he’s used to this kind of chaos.
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head.
“I’m so sorry, he’s interrogating you—”
“It’s okay,” Oscar says.
And there it is—the tiniest smile pulling at his mouth.
“I get that a lot.”
You squint at him, curious. “Do you?”
He hesitates for a beat, then looks at you like he’s choosing whether to tell you the truth.
“Yeah,” he says finally. “I race in Formula One.”
Silence drops between you.
You blink.
Once.
Twice.
“…You what?”
Your son doesn’t miss a beat.
He spins around so fast you almost get whiplash, eyes huge, practically vibrating with excitement.
“Mom!!”
You barely have time to process what Oscar just said before Louis grabs your hand and tugs like his life depends on it.
“Can we befriend this one, mommy?”
You freeze.
“…Be—what?”
“Befriend him!” he repeats, louder this time, like you’re the one being unreasonable. He points at Oscar with both hands now. “He knows about cars and he’s nice and he fixes things and he has a fast car!”
Oscar looks between the two of you, trying—and failing—not to smile too much. His mouth twitches. His eyes soften. He’s definitely amused.
You crouch down to Louis’s level, lowering your voice. “Sweetheart, people don’t just get… befriended… like that.”
Louis frowns, thinks for exactly one second, then turns right back to Oscar.
“Do you want to be my friend?”
Your head snaps up so fast your neck almost cracks.
Oscar goes still. His eyes flick to you first—checking, maybe. Or teasing. There’s a tiny smirk on his lips, and God, it’s unfair how good he looks doing absolutely nothing.
There’s a beat.
Then, softly, he nods.
“…Yeah,” he says. “I think I’d like that.”
Louis beams like the sun.
And Oscar… he looks at you again, that same soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, like he’s not just agreeing to be Louis’s friend.
summary: MotoGP legend joins Formula 1 with Mercedes, entering a season of extreme scrutiny, media pressure, and divided public opinion as she fights to prove she belongs on the grid.
pairing: formula one + female!driver!reader
warnings/tags: smau + irl, mentions about misogyny, cursing here and there
notes: this is my old series also named more than a driver, but reimagined because the original series just could not get out of my privates no matter what i tried. so i thought that rewriting the whole thing is the best thing i could do, and i can explain driver!yn and her experiences in more detail than i did in the original. thank you !!!
reblogs, likes, and comments are so so appreciated! if you want to read more from me, kindly submit in my inbox !!! xoxo
mercedesamgf1
liked by f1, jensonbutton, nicorosberg, and 11,236,057 others
mercedesamgf1 We are pleased to announce that YN LN will join Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team for the upcoming Formula 1 season.
Welcome to Formula 1, YN.
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username CHILLS.
username yup. and f1 just turned into a marketing campaign. this sport is fucked
username this already feels historic oh my gosh.
username there are F2 drivers who spent their whole lives working for this seat.
username the way everyone either loves her or hates her already is insane
username and suddenly people how have never watched racing are invested
"Turn it off."
The voice came from behind you. You didn't bother looking over your shoulder. You already knew the expression on Ryland, your manager's face. His jaw tight, the twitch in his temple that appeared whenever you ignored protocol.
The television screen in front of you kept replaying the same five seconds—your bike flipping end over end, the sickening screech of metal on asphalt—before cutting abruptly to a glossy montage of her new Mercedes logo.
"Seriously," he said, stepping in your line of sight and blocking the screen. "You're obsessing."
You thumbed the volume higher.
The crash played again—frame by frame, pixel by pixel—burning itself into your retinas. Your fingers tightened around the remote. One screen, your body tumbled across the gravel like a discared doll, limbs twisted at angles that still made your ribs ache in phantom sympathy.
"Stop torturing yourself." Ryland sighed, clicking the TV off manually. "You know what they want from you today. Confidence and certainty. Not—" His genture ecompassed the darkened screen and the tension in your shoulders. "This."
You exhaled from your nose, rolling the stiffness from your neck. Your phone buzzed on the table. Another article sent to you. Does YN LN Have What It Takes In Mercedes?
Ryland sighed again, deeper this time, and tosses a folded Mercedes polo onto the sofa beside you. "Put this on. The car leaves in twenty."
You didn't move immediately.
Your phone buzzed again—another headline, another hashtag, another dissection of your worth. You flipped it facedown without looking.
Twenty minutes later, you stood in the hotel elevator with Ryland's words still rining in your ears—confidence and certainty—as if you could just conjure them from thin air.
The polo clung to your shoulders, the Mercedes logo pressing into your back with every breath. You watched the numbers above the door tick downward, each floor a countdown to the inevitable.
The lobby was worse than you imagined.
A sea of cameras surged the moment the elevator doors parted, flashes popping like gunfire. Microphones were jabbed toward you from every angle.
"How does it feel being a walking PR stunt, YN?"
"Will you cry when you realize you can't handle the car?"
"Do you even know how to drive a car competitively?"
You blinked against the assault of cameras, your pulse hammering in your throat. Every shouted question landed like a stone against your ribs.
"Do you have anything to prove to the paddock?"
The PR handler assigned to you suddenly appeared at your elbow, murming through a clenched smile. "Don't engage. Keep walking."
Her fingers dug into your elbow just enough to hurt. You could feel the woman's pulse hammering through the contact—fear disguised as professionalism.
"Smile," the woman hissed through clenched teeth.
You bared your teeth and hoped for the best.
formulafocus
liked by username, and 6,084 others
formulafocus 📸: YN LN on her way to the Mercedes garage in Silverstone. The rookie was met by an aggresive media crowd, with several reporters questioning whether she belonged on the grid at all.
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username This made me so uncomfy just watching honestly.
username you can literally see her trying to stay composed
username these questions were disgusting.
username and if she snapped back they'd call her emotional???
The Mercedes garage in Silverstone felt electrifying. You stepped inside and immediately felt the weight of eyes on you. Mechanics glanced up from their workstations, their expressions unreadable beneath the brims of team caps. Some nodded politely. Others didn't bother hiding their skepticism.
You said nothing. You knew what they saw: the girl from that one crash, the motorcycle rider, the gamble.
At the back fo the garage, the car waited. Not just any car—your car.
It sat gleaming beneath the garage lights and it was beautiful. You exhaled slowly. You've seen F1 cars before—from grandstands, from pitlanes—but never like this. Never yours.
A mechanic cleared his throat. "First time up close?"
You didn't answer the question. You didn't need to. The way your fingers hovered milimeters above the car—close enough to feel the heat radiating from its test run—said everything.
First time up close and first time it was yours.
A shadow fell across the car's nose.
"You're blocking the airflow," a voice said. Amused.
The voice had come from your left—low, teasing, edged with something you couldn't quite place. It wasn't hostility. Not curiosity.
Lewis Hamilton leaned against a tool cart, arms crossed, helmet tucked under one elbow. His team suit was unzipped to the sternum. He looked relaxed in a way that only someone who belonged here could.
"Airflow's important," he added, nodding toward your hand still suspended near the front wing. "Especially here."
You dropped your arm. "Didn't realize I was interfering with your wind tunnel."
Lewis smirked, pushing off the tool cart. "You'd be surprised what throws off the balance." He nodded toward the car, "Every milimeter counts."
The garage noise swelled around you, but Lewis' attention remained fixed on you in a way that felt heavier than curiosity.
"You've got the hands for it," he said suddenly.
You blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected compliment. Your hands—scarred from years of gripping handlebars—twitched reflexively at your sides.
Lewis didn't elaborate. Just tilted his head slightly. "MotoGP riders have good reflexes. Better than most F1 drivers, honestly. Your reaction times will tell you that."
The garage PA system carckled overhead with a muffled announcement, drowning out what you might've said in response. Lewis straightened as a mechanic called his name, but he didn't move immediately.
His gaze flicked to the car between you then back to your face.
"You ever driven anything with four wheels competitively?"
Your lips curved into something between a smirk and a grimace. "Not unless you count stealing my best friend's go-kart when I was twelve."
Lewis chuckled, adjusting his grip on the helmet tucked under his arm. "Close enough." His eyes darted toward you again. "You know they're going to test you harder than anyone else, right?"
"I expect nothing less."
Lewis' smirk deepened, but there was something almost approving in the way his eyes lingered on your scarred hands. "Good." He pushed off the tool cart fully, rolling his shoulders. "Because they won't go easy on you just because—"
"—just because I'm a girl?" You finished dryly, arching an eyebrow.
Lewis chuckled, shaking his head. "Because you're a rookie. Cars don't care about whether you a man or woman. Only if you're fast."
The garage PA crackled again, summoning him to some meeting or another. Lewis rolled his eyes but started backing away, still watching you with that gaze.
"You'll want to meet Toto before the press junket starts. He seems scary but he's a big softie. It's really nice meeting you, teammate."
f1paddocklive
liked by username, and 5,396 others
f1paddocklive Lewis Hamilton speaking to YN LN in the garage today.
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username couldn't hear much from clips but you can see the immediate switching from teasing her to defending her abilities. lewis saw that media narrative forming and shut it down FAST.
username guys why are shipping them after one conversation
username Another important part that people are missing is that Lewis isn't complimenting her just to be nice. He is dead serious about what he's saying.
username they were flirting your honor
f1
liked by lewishamilton, yourusername, and 5,082,812 others
f1 Lewis Hamilton and rookie driver YN LN in the Mercedes garage ahead of testing.
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username OH?????
username lewis immediately clocked her talent
username He looked genuinely interested in what she had to say
username they are officially a package
username finally someone treating her like a DRIVER
username Lewis has always supported women in motorsport idc
Toto Wolff's office smelled like coffee and leather. Very expensive leather. You hesitated at the door, fingers tapping an uneven rhythm against your thigh.
"Good to see you. Close the door, please."
You closed the door. The office windows overlooked the paddock, rain streaking the glass like tears. Toto swipped something off his screen and set the tablet aside, folding his hands atop the desk.
"You crashed in Barcelona at the Catalan Grand Prix three years ago," he said abruptly.
Your fingers twitched at your sides. The scars on your palms throbbed in phantom response—you knew exactly which crash he meant. The one where your bike had bucked like a wild animal mid-corner, throwing you into the gravel at 200 kilometers per hour. The one they kept replaying on every sports channel.
"Yes," you said, matching his bluntness.
Toto leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk. His wedding band clicked against the wood.
"You remember what you did wrong?"
The question landed like a gut punch. Not what happened. Not how it felt. What you did wrong.
You remembered every millisecond of that crash—the way the bike had wobbled beneath you, the sickening lurch as the rear tire lost grip, the split-second decision that had sealed your fate.
You leaned too early. Adjusted too late. A mistake measured in centimeters that cost you months of recovery.
"I leaned into the corner before the bike settled. I didn't wait for the grip."
Toto's expression didn't change. "And yesterday?"
Yesterday. Your first simulator session. The engineers had watched you like hawks circling their prey. You'd spun twice. Locked the break once.
You swallowed against the dryness in your throat. Yesterday's data would've painted you in brutal honesty—every oversteer, every missed apex, every rookie mistake.
"I braked too late into Turn 4. The car didn't rotate properly because I was carrying too much speed."
Toto's fingers stilled against the desk. Then he leaned back in his chair, the leather groaning beneath him.
"Good."
Toto's single word—good—hung in the air like smoke after a burnout. You blinked, waiting for the punchline, the reprimand, the inevitable lecture about expectations.
Instead, Toto reached for his tablet and swiped something onto the screen before sliding it across the desk toward you.
"You recognize this?"
You leaned forward. The display showed telemetry from yesterday's simulator session—jagged lines representing throttle input, braking force, steering angle.
Your stomach tightened. There, clear as a fingerprint: the moment you overcooked Turn 4, the graph spiking red where you stomped the brakes too late.
"Yes," you said, forcing her voice steady. The data didn't lie. Neither did the ache in your neck from the simulator's violent snap of oversteer.
Toto tapped the red spike on the graph with one finger, his wedding band clicking against the screen. "You see the problem." It wasn't a question.
You nodded, the phantom weight of the simulator's steering wheel still pressing against your palms. The data showed everything—your hesitation before the turn, the panicked overcorrection afterward.
You could still feel the exact moment the virtual car had snapped out from under you, the simulated G-forces slamming you sideways as pixels spun across the screens.
"Now watch this." Toto swiped to another set of telemetry—smoother lines, more controlled spikes. "Lewis. Same turn. Same conditions."
The difference was brutal. Hamilton's braking point landed three meters earlier than yours, his steering inputs fluid where yours had been jerky.
Your throat tightened. You'd known the gap would be enormous, but seeing it carved into cold data felt like swallowing glass.
You stared at the telemetry curves, the lines burning into your retinas like hot brake rotors. Lewis's graph looked like a masterclass in precision—every input purposeful, every correction minimal. Hers resembled an EKG during a heart attack.
"You see it now." Toto didn't phrase it as a question. His finger traced Hamilton's braking line—a smooth, descending arc that bled speed gradually. "This is where champions live."
The office walls suddenly felt closer. You could hear your own pulse thudding in your ears, syncopated with the distant whine of an engine firing up somewhere in the paddock.
"Give me three sessions." The words left your mouth before you fully processed them. "I'll match that delta."
Toto's eyebrows lifted slightly, but he didn't laugh. Instead, he turned the tablet screen toward himself and tapped something that made both sets of telemetry vanish.
"Interesting," he said finally, setting the tablet aside. His wedding band clicked against the desk again—three deliberate strikes like a countdown. "Most rookies ask for time. You're demanding results."
You didn't blink. "I didn't come here to be most rookies."
Toto studied you for a moment longer—the kind of silence that could either be respect or pity—before nodding toward the window where rain blurred the Mercedes garage into streaks of silver and neon.
"You'll get three sessions. But not to match Lewis." He leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk, his wedding band catching the light as he tapped it once against the wood. "To beat him."
The words hung between you, heavier than the humidity pressing against the glass. You've spent years learning to read the unspoken rules in a room—the subtle shifts in tone that separated a challenge from a threat. Toto's voice held both.
Outside, a car fired up in the garage with a scream that vibrated through the floor. The sound prickled across your skin like static before a storm. You didn't look away from Toto's gaze. "And if I don't?"
"Then you'll still drive." Toto shrugged, the leather of his chair groaning beneath him. "But not for us." He said it casually, like discussing tire compounds over lunch.
The implication settled coldly in Your stomach: one season. Maybe less. Just long enough for the headlines to fade.
Three sessions. That's all you had to turn years of bike reflexes into something that could tame an F1 car.
The leather chair groaned as Toto leaned back, his wedding band tapping once more against the desk.
"You'll start tomorrow at Silverstone. Full wet setup." His gaze flicked to the storm raging outside, then back to you. "Unless you'd prefer to wait for drier conditions."
Your jaw tightened. You recognized the test for what it was—a chance to back down gracefully. MotoGP riders feared rain more than anything; two wheels and slick tarmac were a death wish.
But four wheels? Four wheels with aerodynamics and traction control? That was a different beast entirely.
"I'll take the rain," you said, matching his challenge with a steadiness you didn't feel.
lewishamilton
liked by lando, oscarpiastri, and 7,268,192 others
lewishamilton Great to be home.
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username HES THERE
username posting this the same day as her test announcement is crazy
username i think he sees himself in yn a little and its making me tear up
username imagine being an f1 rookie and a world champion shows up to watch your test sessions
thank you for reaching the end! want to be added to the taglist? leave a comment :) if you'd like to know more about driver!yn, leave a message on my inbox! LOVEEEE YAAAA x
Literature teacher Kimi Antonelli hates math teacher Oliver Bearman with the heat of a thousand suns. The feeling, as far as he can tell, is mutual. But when the school administration forces them to share a classroom, their petty war of chalk dust and passive-aggressive poetry takes an unexpected turn.
Late nights grading essays, terrible coffee, and a leather journal full of secrets begin to blur the line between enemy and something else entirely. Kimi wanted to win the war. He didn't plan on losing his heart to a man who thinks love is an integral.
"Mr. Antonelli," Oliver said quietly, leaning in just a little so only the two of them could hear. "Your Goethe, by the way, knew quite a bit about math. And color theory. And anatomy. He was an erudite. Unlike some… You know what Tolstoy said about math? Shakespeare built all of Twelfth Night on mathematical symmetry. Even your beloved Dostoevsky — that depressed blogger — structured his novels like theorems. So don't go dividing the world into 'poetry' and 'formulas.' Formulas are just poetry in the language of the universe."
Kimi opened his mouth to respond with something cutting, devastating, worthy of Chaucer or Boccaccio — but nothing came to mind. Not one witty insult. Only dull, primal rage and a desire to somehow trip the mathematician without getting caught.
"...who hide behind the classics like a screen," Oliver finished, turned, and calmly walked to his desk.
as george and max’s partner, you consider yourself the number one russtappen shipper. too bad your boyfriends’ employers want to keep your shipping to yourself.
note: this one was fun to write :) partly written because one of the russtappen fics i've been following is finally complete hehe. do you you guys like the poly stuff? if so, please send in requests, i like writing them <3
warnings: swearing, implied/referenced sex
fc: laufey
･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･
yourusername just posted
liked by georgerussell, maxverstappen, and others
yourusername: long distance is so HARD i am being #neglected. i can’t cope.
view all comments:
maxverstappen: Miss you schat ❤️❤️
⤷yourusername: come home soon maxie🫶🏻🥹❤️🩹
user: imagine having two boyfriends and neither of them is giving you attention. sorry girl!
⤷yourusername: thank you for understanding my struggle
georgerussell: Can’t wait to come home to you 💞
⤷yourusername: 🥰🥰
lando: That photo of you looks crazy
⤷yourusername: every photo of you looks crazy FREAK
⤷lando: Wow.
Dear YourName,
It has come to our attention that you have been posting things on your personal social media accounts that may harm Mr. Verstappen’s image. We understand that you do not work for us and cannot tell you what to do, however we hope that you will be amenable to our request.
Please stop posting and sharing links to explicit materials regarding Mr. Verstappen on your public social media profiles.
Best regards,
Alice Hedworth
Senior Communications Officer
Oracle Red Bull Racing
ynpriv just posted
liked by lilympriv, grus63, and others
ynpriv: mercedes amg petronas formula 1 team is trying to silence me and censor my self expression but i will not be stopped.
view all comments:
grus63: That is not what I was looking at on my phone. Please stop spreading lies, my love.
⤷ynpriv: i looked at your search history, georgie.
lilympriv: wait send me the link to that one i’m curious
⤷ynpriv: dmd you 🫶
⤷albono23: What??
⤷lilympriv: mind your business
mad3max: Be yourself schatje ❤️
⤷ynpriv: thanks maxie <33 @.grus63 take note.
⤷grus63: 🙄
ln4priv: Mate what the hell are you reading??
⤷ynpriv: that’s none of your concern, perv!
⤷ln4priv: I’M THE PERV???
summary: two separate pictures of you and charles without your wedding rings and one song released at the wrong time has fans speculating that everyone's favorite married couple is heading for a divorce. the truth is a lot less scandalous.
pairing: charles leclerc x wife!reader
fc: jade thirlwall
warnings: tiny bit suggestive - minors dni • time skips • likely a mistake or two
vicious speaks: a short and sweet one for you today 💙
charles masterlist | read on ao3
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
liked by f1wags and others
deuxmoi F1 driver Charles Leclerc was spotted in a new video today without his wedding ring - a few months after we reported that things were tense between him and his wife, singer Yn Leclerc. Was this just a coincidence, or is there trouble in paradise? 🧐 Let us know your thoughts below!
view all comments
fan NOT MY PARENTS 😩
fan i refuse to believe this
fan NO
fan i’m sure this is all just one big misunderstanding…right? RIGHT?
fan for the sake of my sanity this is photoshopped
fan you can’t make me believe a couple so in love are suddenly getting a divorce
fan they’re intensely private, i can see them quietly divorcing. unfortunately 🥲
fan guys can we calm down? maybe he just forgot his ring.
fan i’m sorry i doubted you when you first reported that they were having problems 😕
fan LOVE IS DEAD
fan aw fuck
fan we know absolutely nothing!! let’s all calm down.
fan WAIT - WHO GETS LEO??? 😰
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
liked by alexandrasaintmleux and others
yn_leclerc THAT’S SHOWBIZ BABY!
new album out april 22nd.
FUFN (FUCK YOU FOR NOW). out now🖕🏽
view all comments
charles_leclerc album of the year 🏆
⤷ yn_leclerc thanks hun 😚
⤷ fan what the fuck
⤷ fan i’m so confused
kellypiquet obsessed obsessed obsessed
⤷ yn_leclerc me when u do anything ♥︎ by kellypiquet
fan where the FUCK are her rings??!
⤷ fan oh it’s so over
sabrinacarpenter fufn is so good bby!! ♥︎ by author
fan just listened to the song…i’m scared
f1gossip hmm…
fan they’re interacting normally but charles wasn’t wearing his ring & neither is yn and this song is not helping me feel better about the whole situation at all 😟
deuxmoi interesting.
fan man i don’t know what to think
fan new yn album ohhh we are so back
taylorswift she's baaack!!! ♥︎ by author
fan this song is gonna haunt me i fear
perrie so proud of you and so excited for the album!! i already have fufn on repeat 💙 ♥︎ by author
fan welp.
oliviarodrigo FUCK YEA NEW YN MUSIC 🍾 ♥︎ by author
fan are you soft launching a divorce album 😭
reneerapp proud of you babe!! ❤️ ♥︎ by author
fan fufn is gonna go triple platinum in my house
zayn big congrats! ♥︎ by author
fan AOTY. SOTY.
leighannepinnock proud proud proud 💚 ♥︎ by author
fan the middle finger emoji pls
alexandrasaintmleux so excited! 🤍 ♥︎ by author
⤷ fan still can't believe they're friends
⤷ fan same!! like wtf 😭
fan idk what’s true atp
raye ❤️🍾 ♥︎ by author
fan this is so messy
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
texts between you and charles
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
charles_leclerc has added to their story
caption: fufn is out now!!! such a great song!
congrats yn_leclerc !!!
likes and replies
yn_leclerc liked charles_leclerc’s story
yn_leclerc lmaooo
⤷ yn_leclerc thank you for being my muse 💋
⤷ charles_leclerc always ♥️ even if the result isn't always flattering
⤷ yn_leclerc you've more than redeemed yourself, baby.
⤷ charles_leclerc multiple times in one night, if i remember correctly.
⤷ yn good times 🤭 ♥︎
maxverstappen1 liked charles_leclerc’s story
fan is my life a joke to you?
kellypiquet liked charles_leclerc's story
fan oh you think this is funny huh
oscarpiastri liked charles_leclerc's story
fan blocked and reported
arthur_leclerc liked charles_leclerc's story
fan oh you and yn are laughing at us, aren't you?
oliviarodrigo liked charles_leclerc's story
oliviarodgrigo you have no idea how funny this is to me 😭💀
⤷ charles_leclerc yn thought it'd be funny 😂
⤷ oliviarodrigo lmao she was right ♥︎
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
texts between you and charles
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
the next day
liked by charles_leclerc and others
leclercupdates Yn put the rumors to rest in her Zane Lowe interview!
ZANE: You know we gotta address the elephant in the room, right?
YN, LAUGHING: I figured!
ZANE: Where did FUFN come from?
YN: I was pissed at my husband after a night out and said "I have no more words, just fuck you. for now." and then thought to myself "Hey, those are pretty good lyrics" so i put them down in my notes and then kinda forgot about them because i was quite drunk at the time *laughs* eventually i came across the lyrics again and wanted to build on them so i got in the studio and eventually, this song was born.
ZANE: I noticed you said "Husband." Does that mean you guys are doing good? No trouble in paradise like people are suggesting?
YN: No! We're great. Our rings were sent out for cleaning and people just started spiraling. We actually find the rumors quite funny!
ZANE: It's good that you two can find the humor in that kind of stuff.
YN: Well, we've been together so long that eventually those kind of rumors are easy to laugh off and make light of.
ZANE: Yeah, i can understand that. We'll, i'm glad you guys are doing good!
YN: Thanks!
view all comments
fan THANK GOD
fan well i feel silly 🥲
⤷ fan i think we all do 🙃
fan not us losing our minds over nothing
fan we were having a collective breakdown and they were laughing at us 😭
fan i'm blocking deuxmoi
fan charles liking this post is so funny
fan I KNEW THEY WERE FINE
fan omg i'm not a child of divorce 🥳
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
charles_leclerc has added to their story
caption: mine.
likes and replies
yn_leclerc liked charles_leclerc's story
yn_leclerc and only yours ♥️
⤷ charles_leclerc damn right ♥️
kikagomes liked charles_leclerc's story
fan MOM & DAD ❤️
lilyzneimer liked charles_leclerc's story
fan LOVE IS ALIVE AND WELL 🙌🏼
arthur_leclerc liked charles_leclerc's story
fan cuties 💞
pierregasly liked charles_leclerc's story
fan sooo glad i don't have to take sides in a divorce (yn would win me ofc but i'd feel really bad about it)
alexandrasaintmleux liked charles_leclerc's story
alexandrasaintmleux she's yours until i steal her 😉
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 :(
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⸻ 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
lando • 15m
absolutely shameless mate lmfao
can u tell her i want tickets to her show tho pleas 😄
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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?????
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⸻ 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
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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
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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
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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 ⬇
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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
You may notice this is a part of my driver no.29 reader(2018-2024) collection that's a part of ‘TIME IS MAKING FOOLS OF US', well, the first and second part is nearly complete :)
Summary: To the paddock, you’re Charles Leclerc’s quiet, shy girlfriend. The one who avoids cameras, speaks softly, and stands politely behind the Ferrari garage. But when Lewis Hamilton comes over to Charles’s apartment for the first time as teammates… he discovers that version of you is very selective.
To the outside world, you are incredibly polite. Soft-spoken. Quiet. The kind of girlfriend the paddock describes as lovely but who no one really knows.
You stand just behind the Ferrari garage on race weekends, sunglasses on, smiling politely when someone says hello. You say things like:
“Hi.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Yes, thank you.”
Your Instagram is private. You’ve never done an interview. You actively avoid the cameras.
Most of the paddock thinks you’re shy. Sweet. Reserved. Which is why Lewis Hamilton is not prepared for what he walks into.
Charles had texted him earlier. Come by the apartment tonight?
Lewis had agreed easily. It’s still early in the 2025 season, and they’re getting to know each other outside the track. Dinner. Music. Maybe a drink. Normal.
Lewis knocks once before letting himself in, Charles had said the door would be unlocked. He steps inside. And immediately hears chaos. Piano. Loud piano. Not gentle music. Not background noise. Full dramatic concert pianist energy. Fast. Aggressive. Missing most of the keys.
Lewis pauses in the doorway. “…Charles?”
From somewhere inside the apartment, he hears singing. Very loud singing. Very enthusiastic singing. Lewis walks slowly toward the living room.
The piano stops for half a second. Then resumes even faster. Lewis turns the corner and stops. Completely.
Charles is at the piano. Absolutely going for it. Hair a mess, completely focused, playing like he’s scoring an action movie. And in the middle of the room… You. Charles Leclerc’s famously shy girlfriend, jumping around the living room, in a silky Victoria’s Secret pyjama set, hair in pink curlers, a green face mask covering half your face, your skin glowing like you’ve just come off a tanning bed, and holding the TV remote like a microphone.
You’re mid-performance. “…CAUSE I’M A SURVIVOR-”
You spin. See Lewis. Freeze.
Charles keeps playing.
You stare at Lewis. Lewis stares at you.
Charles is still aggressively playing piano behind you, completely unaware.
The remote microphone slowly lowers. “…Charles.”
Charles continues playing.
“Charles.”
Still playing.
You finally shout, “CHARLES!”
The piano stops abruptly as Charles turns around happily. “Ah! Lewis!”
Lewis is still standing there. Processing.
Charles smiles casually. “You found the place.”
Lewis gestures vaguely toward you. “…I see that...”
You're still frozen in the middle of the living room. Face mask. Curlers. Remote in hand.
Lewis slowly says, “Well, I thought you were shy?”
You slowly lower the remote. “…I am.”
Charles bursts out laughing. You glare at him. “You didn't say someone was coming over!”
Charles shrugs. “I forgot.”
Lewis starts laughing too. Not mean. Just deeply entertained. “You avoid cameras,” he says, still grinning.
“Yes.”
“You barely speak in the paddock.”
“Yes.”
“You say ‘hi’ and disappear.”
“Yes.”
Lewis gestures at the scene. “…but this is what’s happening at home?”
You sigh. “Yes.”
Charles wipes tears from his eyes. “You should see her when Beyoncé comes on.”
You throw a cushion at him. Lewis is still laughing. “This is incredible.”
You pull the curlers slightly tighter into your hair. “Do you want tea?”
Lewis nods immediately. “Yes.”
Charles leans back on the piano bench. Still smiling. “You’re lucky,” he tells Lewis. “Most people only get the quiet version.”
Lewis glances at you, now walking toward the kitchen, still wearing the face mask and curlers like it’s completely normal. “…I feel honoured.”
From the kitchen you shout, “And you’re not allowed to tell anyone!”
Lewis laughs. “No promises!”
Charles just shakes his head fondly and starts playing the piano again. This time slightly quieter.
But you still start singing again from the kitchen.
'you're obsessing, just confess it 'cause it's obvious. i'm your number one.'
summary: your co-worker, oscar, is annoying. he's also annoying in class. he's also annoying on track, not that you realise the man under the orange helmet is him. is there such a thing as rivals in every universe?
warnings: crashing/violence, racing, swearing, arguing, but no serious injury and light angst. guess what! I gave up at the end, so this just. doesn't end. if anyone enjoys it maybe I'll write a part two, but this is so bad so I doubt it lmao.
word count: 6.2K
notes: hi my loves! I know it's been a long long time.. im sorry. I've been going through Some Stuff recently, and I lost nearly all motivation to write (byler kept me going), so this is very delayed. as always, this is not proofread, and makes me want to rip y hair out. THANK YOU FOR 1K OMG I LOVE YOU ALL!!!
You press your lanyard against the scanner once, waiting for the beep and for the door to swing open. The sound never comes, and you frown, trying again. Nothing.
You flick your wrist, eyeing the time, cursing to yourself. You’re going to be late, it seems. And you already know that Sophie will reprimand you about setting a good example for the kids, and how you can’t show them that you can be late and get away with it-
“Are you just going to stand by the door, or go in?” comes a snarky voice, low and teasing, and you flex your knuckles instinctively.
“Piastri.” you spit, turning to him and giving him an exaggerated grin. He gestures to the scanner with a practiced boredom, and you almost leap at his throat.
“S’not working.” you mumble, with an aggressive demonstration, and a smile flickers over his face. He leans forward, arm stretched in front of you, pushing his own lanyard and nodding as it beeps to life.
As the door opens, you both shift backwards, but he keeps his arm out, barring you.
“Move, Oscar.” you frown, gesturing forward, but he gives you a look of pure disgust.
“You think I'm going to let you tailgate? It’s against company policy. You know this.”
His patronising tone makes you wonder if there are any security cameras around. You don’t wait to find out. Giving him a hard shove, you rush through the door, pulling the handle as hard as you can.
He gives you an exasperated look. “It’s an automatic door.”
“Can you blame a girl for trying?”
You wait, eyeing each other up for a second. Then you watch his foot shift slightly, and you begin to run, sprinting down the corridor. You feel a yank on your arm, dragging you back, but you’ve already got a grip on the strap of his bag, pulling him with you.
He stumbles, and you nudge him into the wall, chuckling at the quiet grunt to your left.
You have to slow to push open the next door, and to your disgust, he catches up.
“Hey, pushing me into the wall is uncool. Immature. What kind of an example is that?” he complains, rubbing the side of his arm theatrically, and you bark out a laugh.
“You’re just mad you didn’t do it first.” you argue, and he shrugs, like you’ve got him all figured out.
“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”
And then he actually does shove you into the wall, and you have to stop yourself from yelling. By the time you’ve caught up, you can see the kids through the half-open door, and you have to settle with glowering at him, smoothing the front of your top.
“I win.” he declares, leaning next to your ear, and you try to ignore how the hum of his words seem to go through you.
“You got lucky that my card wasn’t working.” you argue, but he just grins, waving at the kid closest to you as you both walk in.
You’ve been working at the kid’s club with Oscar for the better part of a year now, and in some ways, it is hell. You love your job, that much is obvious. Oscar? Not so much. He’s a pain in the ass, and he’s not shy about it.
You’re halfway through a game of Jenga when he comes over, pulling a block out for you.
“You idiot. Why would you pick that one?” you groan, watching the tower wobble and the boy opposite you give you a toothy grin.
“Have you revised for class tomorrow?”
You pause, turning to him carefully.
“Don’t mess with me.”
He shrugs. “I’m not. We’ve got that exam tomorrow. Y’know, thermodynamics. The module we’ve been doing for weeks.”
You grit your teeth. “That’s on the 9th. That’s next week.”
He laughs, that quiet chuckle that curdles in your gut.
“Today’s the 8th. Good luck.”
With a groan, you drop your head into your hands, cursing as the wooden blocks spew out in a million different directions.
You slide into the seat beside him in the lecture-hall, grumbling under your breath, and he looks around suspiciously.
“You’ve never chosen to sit next to me before. What’s going on? I mean, Maddie is literally waving at you, stop pretending you can’t see her.” Oscar mutters, leaning a little too close, and you huff.
“Maybe I just wanted your company?” you suggest weakly, giving Maddie a curt nod and a look that says ‘I’ll explain later’, but he doesn’t budge.
“I’m not going to let you copy my answers.”
“Godamnit, Oscar.” you groan, all in one exasperated breath, and he tries not to grin.
“You could’ve studied. Like I did.”
You whack his arm angrily, holding back from cursing at him, and instead you begin to pack up.
He frowns as you stand up.
“If you’re not going to let me copy you, Maddie and I will just struggle through it together. But I’ll remember this next time the kids want to make glitter bombs.” you mutter ominously, discreetly rolling your eyes at him as you make your way towards the back of the room. He hesitates, as if cheating might be a good enough reason to keep you next to him, but he thinks better of it, and lets you go.
“He’s so annoying.” you complain, pulling out a pen from Maddie's pencil case and scouring the paper. She coughs, giving you a slightly judgemental stare.
“I mean, I hate to take his side here, but we’ve known about this for weeks. It is kind of cruel to just use him for answers. You could’ve at least sat with him afterwards. Bet he feels like crap now.” she mutters, and you scoff.
“It’s Oscar. We know we’re not friends, it’s fine. I doubt he’s even thinking twice about it.”
You both crane your necks to stare at him, how he’s scribbling away with such a determination you’re surprised the paper hasn’t torn to shreds.
“God, he’s such a dork. It hurts.”
Maddie shrugs. “Maybe he’s secretly interesting. Any clue what he does when he’s not here?”
You hum, tapping the pen to your chin.
“I know he has at least two friends. I saw them in a pub once. That’s not something I ever want to see again. But other than that, I guess he just studies? He can’t be doing so well if he’s not.”
Maddie pauses, frowning at you.
“You beat him on the last test. And you didn’t study at all.”
You chuckle, and you swear you see Oscar tilt his neck a little.
“Yeah, but I’m cool. He’s not. I doubt he has anything better to do.”
Oscar’s calloused fingers grip the wheel with a practiced ease, letting the rubber slide through his palm. The tunnel lights blare as he pushes the engine harder, daring it to give up on him. It roars instead.
“Rusty, where are we?” he mutters, teeth gritted, waiting for the radio to crackle to life with a hopefully quick response.
“P2. You know who is in front.”
He catches it now- the flash of hot pink, the sound of a slight skid from where a drift when wide.
“Fuck.”
‘You know who’, officially registered as ‘Von Dutch’ in the league, is the bane of Oscar’s existence. They only popped up about a year ago, but they’ve been trading wins ever since.
He’s pretty sure it’s Max Verstappen hidden in that dramatically pink Nissan Skyline, but without proof, he sticks with acting like his competitor is just as evil as Voldemort. Maybe he’ll try out ‘He who must not be named’ next.
“Y’know, we could just ask him in class if he drives. Or take a look at his palms- if he’s got those ugly blisters, we’ll know.”
Oscar huffs. “He rows with me. Not enough evidence. What am I gonna do anyway? Report him? We’re both going down.”
Lando hums thoughtfully, but he knows Oscar is right. They can’t afford to be caught again. After the crash nearly two years ago, they’d both been unofficially banned from the league, but also by their family. So it’s not worth blowing up their low profile to try to get in the Dutchman’s head.
“Alright, Rusty. How am I going to catch him?”
“Head down, Jack. Take the next corner faster. Brake less, pussy.”
Oscar smiles to himself, even though he ought to switch off the radio in anger, and presses the pedal further down.
He catches up to the back of the car, but he realises he’s not going to make a move in time.
“He’s got me again, hasn’t he?”
“Confirm, mate. You’re ass.”
Oscar groans, as both cars slow. He watches carefully, as the door swings open. Max steps out, helmet firmly on his head.
“Y’think Max is banned too? Is that why he’s not showing off? I had him pinned as the ego type.”
“Only idiots shout about street-racing.”
“Hey, I used my name.” Lando murmurs, and Oscar laughs.
“Point proven.”
“He’s very pink. I had him pinned as the not-pink type too-”
Oscar switches off the radio, stepping out.
“Hey, good job, Dutch. You’re going to be beating me on wins soon.”
It pains him to admit, but he sticks his palm out nonetheless. Their hands meet with a satisfying clap, both bowing their heads a little.
“Yeah, thanks, Jack. Also, I took your spot on Fast and Furious.”
“You look aggravated.” you bemuse, leaning against the side of the arcade, arms folded.
Oscar is glowering at the screen with disbelief.
“How did he do it?”
Then he turns, looking straight at you.
“Did you see him?”
You frown, shifting towards him, peering at the leaderboard.
'New high score: Von Dutch.'
“Nah, not a clue who that is, mate. Why, you wanted to go for it? I’ve never seen you play this before.” you mutter, eyes narrowed.
Oscar doesn’t admit that he knows your shift schedule. He doesn’t admit that he only comes when Logan is working instead, so you don’t tease him for spending a nearly embarrassing amount of time on Fast and Furious.
He shrugs.
“When I’m around. With Lando, usually.”
He gestures to his name, sitting third, behind the new champion, and ‘Jack’.
You give him a wide-eyed stare.
"I should've known you were the Oscar. I never even thought to ask.”
You point to your own name, down in fourth, and he smiles to himself.
“Alright, warm up, Piastri. We’re not moving until one of us takes it from these idiots.” you decide, moving over to the bar to grab two Cokes and half a tub of Nachos.
“Are you allowed to do that?”
You scoff, scanning the room. “We’re half-empty. It’s a Tuesday night. Actually, why are you here? Shouldn’t you be getting your beauty sleep?”
He looks up, intrigued.
“You think I’m beautiful?”
You shrug. “Sure.”
The sarcasm rolls off you effortlessly, but he grins, and he watches your bored expression break a little. He decides that’s another thing he should try to do again. He likes the surprised smirk that's settled on your face instead.
You take turns in the seat, watching each other race. Oscar’s expression never changes- same straight face, same cool determination.
You’re more expressive, biting your lip to concentrate, cursing if you slip even a little wide.
He watches his own fall from grace, as Jack slips down to fourth. And then Von Dutch follows, until your name stands first, and he slots into second.
“What’s stopping them from just, I don’t know, taking it again?” he smiles, bumping your shoulder as you stand beside him, staring at the new score on the screen.
“N’thing. Guess we’ll need to stay on guard.” you shrug, turning away from him.
Then, you pause.
“Or, we could check in. Y’know, every Tuesday. Like a little tradition. If we’re still leading, it doesn’t matter. But nachos are on the house if we get beat again.”
You’re only offering because you feel bad about class. Maddie got to you. Still, he doesn’t need to know that. So you give him your kindest, ipromiseiactuallydolikeyouandwanttohangoutonatuesdaynight smile, and wait. When his own signature half-smirk stretches across his face, you take it as a yes.
“And I thought you were sick of me.”
Just like that, your smile evaporates, and you’re back to hoping he crawls into whatever hole he came out of.
“Way to ruin it. Is it too late for me to take it back?”
He nods regretfully. “Far too late. Already cleared my calendar for the next seventeen Tuesdays.”
You wonder if you might actually get sick of him after this. Between classes, and work, and now this, you realise you’re going to be seeing Oscar an obscene amount. You almost expect him to announce he’s moving into your dorm next, or that he’ll show up on track next week.
“Alright, be serious. Who’s tree is better?” you ask, deadpan, staring at Emily. You’ll never admit it, but you know Emily is horrifically obsessed with Oscar, and you’ve been trying to win her over ever since you realised.
Your tree is better. It’s actually no debate. You even added glitter, to secure the win. But you can see the way her eyes dart to Oscar’s messy leaves and half-assed trunk with that adoration, and you wonder if your ego might take a blow.
“Yours, obviously!” Tiggy beams, giving you a determined side-hug, and you ruffle the kid’s hair affectionately.
“Thanks, Tiger. But Emily said she wanted to judge the competition, so I want to give her the deciding vote. Although, it is pretty obvious.”
Emily turns to Oscar, half-pouting.
“I’ll still be your favourite if she wins?” she asks quietly, and Oscar gives her a heavy sigh, crouching to eye-level.
“I mean, legally, I don’t have a favourite. But yeah, I won’t mind. Don’t tell her I said this, but it is better.” he whispers, giving her a high-five, while you celebrate your victory by spinning Tiggy around.
“Do you guys just hear that? Even Osc knew it was better.” you beam, punching the air, like you’ve just won something much more serious than a tree-drawing contest to impress some nursery-kids.
“Osc, huh? That’s new.” he murmurs, leaning by your ear.
“Watch it, Piastri. Y’know the kids like it. Trying to help keep you popular, after Emily turned.”
“Came to the dark side, more like.” he mutters, shifting away from you, and you cough.
“I have the high ground, Oscar.”
It’s quiet, but he catches it, trying to mask the smile that’s slowly spreading on his face.
“Are you and Oscar friends? When you’re not here?” Tiggy asks, rather suddenly, and you give her a confused look.
“We go to school together.” Oscar yells, from across the side of the room, like that’s a good enough answer.
Tiggy beams, but you’re not letting him win that so easily.
“Well, Tiger, are you friends with everyone you go to school with?”
Tiggy pauses to think, before shaking her head.
“Well, there we go, then.”
There’s a nearly awkward silence as all the kids turn to face you, looking between your cold stare and Oscar’s awkward face.
For a second, a look of hurt flickers over his face, before he fixes it. But it makes you feel bad again, and you shake your head, grinning.
“I’m kidding. Me and Oscar? We’re best friends.”
He gives you a dry laugh, and then the whole room is full of giggles, and everyone begins to talk about their own best friends, and how they share their lunchbox snacks.
“Nice save.” Oscar nods, and he’s too close again, but you don’t move. You figure one misstep and his lips might actually make contact with the side of your face, and you do not want to take that risk.
“Yeah, I didn’t want you to lose any more street cred. Anyway-”
“-Are we still on for Tuesday?” he asks, a little suddenly, glaring at his phone. You straighten.
“Oh, yeah. We can be- unless you’ve got something on.”
Your phone makes an undignified ding! too, and you flick the screen to face you. It’s Ollie.
Ollie: New pop-up race on Tuesday. Tunnels are open again. You in?
Ollie: Impacts the league, by the way.
You: obviously???? did you get the new tires
Ollie: Obviously. See you then, Dutch.
You: bro stop trying to seem cool and do your homework
Ollie: Yes ma’am
“Assignment. I have an assignment I forgot about. I’m sure our scores are still leading, so-” he mumbles, and you narrow your eyes.
“You? Late on an assignment?”
He nods. “I know. I’m surprised too. Must’ve slipped my mind.”
“Too busy thinking of me, I suppose.”
You watch him bite back a grin. “Sure, let’s go with that.”
“Fuck, they changed the course.” you groan, flexing your knuckles as they grip the steering wheel. “How does he know it?”
The only car in front of you is a scuffed, gold and green Honda Civic, but it’s rare that you’re behind it. You grit your teeth.
“Ollie, talk to me. Where can I pick up some pace?”
Ollie murmurs something in response, but he sounds a little panicked.
“Police. Shit, police.” he warns, and you kick the pedal in frustration. “Keep on driving, and you’ll come out the other end. You’ll know where you are, then. First left, then first right.”
“Okay, got it. Are they close?”
“Catching the back of the pack. They’ll realise there’s only two ways out soon, so you need to get going. Don’t do anything stupid, though.”
You nod. “Copy. See you later.”
Jack is still pushing ahead of you, his tires kissing the brick-sides of the tunnel, and you scoff. With a loud push of the horn, you blare past him, brushing the wall yourself. Neither of you want to get caught, but something about the race feels unfinished.
You wait until he’s looking and throw up your middle finger in the mirror, staring back in front of you before he can reply.
He tries to weave in front of you, but it’s not wide enough, and he drops back.
It’s only when the first siren starts that you begin to panic.
“Shit.”
Getting caught isn’t an option. You’d kept your hobby a secret for long enough now, and you knew you’d get caught eventually. But you were hoping it wouldn’t be because the police busted you, and it would ruin your chances later on. Also, if the racing didn’t kill you- you knew your mother would.
The end of tunnel comes with a sigh of relief, and you follow Ollie’s instructions.
By the time you’ve made it, half-parked in an empty garage, something jolts you forward. The car door is opened with some force, and you march to the back of your car, glaring at the scratch from Jack’s headlights.
“What the fuck is your problem, freak?” you shout, knocking on his windshield. He steps out, but neither of you take off your helmet. You hope he can feel your glare through the visor.
“S’accident, clearly. What are you doing in my garage?”
You scoff. “Your garage? I’ve been using this for months. Look.” you seethe, gesturing to half-used pink wraps and discarded tires. Jack pauses.
“Ah. Okay, might’ve gone in the wrong garage.” he admits, raising his arms innocently.
“You’re stupid. Get out of my way.”
He folds his arms, squaring a little. He leans a little closer, and you brace yourself, but he shrinks back.
“What, you too scared to hit a girl? ‘Cause you’re more than welcome to try.”
Oscar-Jack, even- falters. He hadn’t really looked at you before, and now he feels like an idiot for thinking you could’ve been Max. Still, he blinks.
“You’re- you’re a girl?”
You cackle, the sound echoing around the room.
“Wow, you’re even slower than you race. Obviously. Anyway, can you back up, and get your pile of crap out of here?” you spit, gesturing to his car, and he inhales.
“I would’ve won it tonight. We both know it.”
You shrug. “I dunno, I got out the tunnel first.”
“You were slow. I let you go ahead. And your horn distracted me.” he argues, but you shrug again, firmer this time.
“Sure. Whatever makes you feel better.”
He pauses. “By the way? I’ve got the top score back.”
“Bullshit. I checked before I came here.”
“Check again.” he murmurs, and then he’s gone, and his engine is revving to life.
When you arrive at the arcade, tugging your employee shirt over your vest, Oscar is already waiting by the counter.
“I thought you had an assignment?”
He nods. “Yeah, I did. Do. But I’m mad, and want nachos. And you promised me some.”
“Also,” he begins, narrowing his eyes at you, “where were you?”
You shove your hands into your pockets. “Alex asked me to swap shifts with him. He takes the later Tuesday one, but he had a date, so-” you explain, and Oscar nods, clearly placated.
“How come you work so much, and yet you’re still nearly beating me in class?”
“Nearly?” you scoff, swallowing a laugh. “I am beating you.”
He angles his phone towards you, and you notice his grade average is less than 1% higher than yours. You shoot him an incredulous glare.
“How is that even possible? You fucking the teacher or something?”
His eyes widen a little. “Mr- you think I seduced Mr Button?”
You raise your shoulders with indifference. “I mean, I don’t know what you’re into, but he’s not an unattractive guy. The extra marks are jus’ a bonus.” you joke, but you make sure your tone stays serious enough that a careful pink creeps up his neck.
You flounce over to the banged-up sim, pushing a token into the slot. You hiss when you see the leaderboard.
“Fuck, he was serious.”
“Who was serious?”
You run a hand through your hair. “Some- some idiot told me that his friend had taken the top score again. Didn’t realise his friend was this douche.”
Oscar tries to hide his slow grin. “Jack? He’s pretty good, isn’t he?”
You shake your head. “Lucky fluke. He has no skill. Logan won’t even tell me who he is- apparently he’s someone we go to college with.”
“Well, that’s probably a good thing. You’d probably trap him in a locker, or something, if you knew him.”
“I’d do worse.” you mutter, but you don’t catch Oscar’s gentle shudder.
Maddie isn’t in the lecture hall when you arrive late, dishevelled, and frustrated the next morning. The nearest available spot is either George or Oscar. You haven’t spoken to George since he made you laugh so hard that ice-cream came out of your nose on an awkward first date. You decide now is not the time to rekindle that bond. So, with as much grace as you can muster, you sit down next to Oscar, shrugging off your hoodie and pulling out a tatty notebook. He raises an eyebrow.
“No test to copy, today.” he remarks, and you nod.
“I know. No Maddie today, either. So you get blessed with my presence instead.” you grumble, and he stifles a chuckle.
“Great. You’re like a ray of sunshine this morning.”
“Oscar. Don’t piss me off anymore. I will hurt you. And I’ll tell the kids the black eye is because you lost a fight with a squirrel.”
He gasps, in faux-shock. “You wouldn’t.”
“Do you want to test me?”
“Howard. Explain this ionic equation, and stop talking.” Mr Button snaps, glaring right at you.
“Oh, just the last name. You forgot to hand in the last experiment report, didn't you?” Oscar whispers, leaning back in his seat so it looks like he’s simply stretching.
You give him a dignified kick in the shin, grinning as he recoils.
“Piastri, since you want to antagonise her, you can answer instead.”
Oscar inhales. You stifle a laugh. “You also forgot the report, then?’
He nods, before glancing back at the board.
“Both of you, stay behind. Now, who can actually answer this question?”
A dreadful forty-seven minutes later, and you’re hovering by Mr Button’s desk, glowering at Oscar.
“I don’t want to damage either of your grades, but I can’t show preferential treatment by not penalising you for the reports. So, this is your alternative.” he explains, handing you both a thick wad of papers. You inhale, scanning the first page.
“We can’t work together.” you blurt out instantly, and Oscar nods.
“Getting along is not our forte.” he agrees. “But I’d be more than happy to do this alone.”
You agree, but your professor remains indifferent.
“This is an external opportunity for extra credit. I can’t change the rules. And before either of you suggest anyone else, you’re the only two with high-enough grade requirements to apply. So take it or leave it, I don’t care. But your grades are dropping in two weeks if you don’t. The choice is yours.” he explains, a little too cold for your liking.
You huff. “Fine. We’ll get it done.”
Oscar begins to protest, but he stops when he catches your stare.
“Yeah. Okay.”
You barely make it five steps out of the room, before you feel someone tag on the strap of your backpack.
“You shouldn’t have decided that for me.” Oscar grunts, and you shrug.
“You were going to agree anyway.”
“That doesn’t matter. You’re not- if we’re not friends, that's fine. But you’re not the boss of me. You’re not better than me, even if you think you are.”
You pause, looking up at him.
“I don’t think I’m better than you.” you reply quietly, pulling your bag firmly over your shoulders again. He scoffs.
“Right.”
“No, seriously. I don’t. S’cause I know I’m better than you, Oscar. It’s not really a competition.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m right.” you retort, before walking a little faster.
Oscar gets in the car angry, that night. He knows he should’ve calmed down, listened to Lando, but your voice is swirling in his head.
You’re both out front, like usual. He pushes harder than he should.
That’s how his front wheel bumps yours, and you spin around, car lurching over the curb.
“Shit. Shit.” he curses, desperately pulling at his steering wheel, to no avail.
“Jack, what happened?”
“Lan-Rusty- I hit her. She’s- is she okay? Her car is all-”
“Are you okay?" Lando counters, as Oscar shoves the door open, clambering out.
He can see the dents in the frame of your car, the pink scratched to a dull silver. Your door is half open, and your arm is hanging limply out of it. Oscar panics.
“Hey, Dutch. Can you- can you hear me? Let me help you.” Oscar mutters, sitting you upright. You groan something quietly in response, and his fingers fiddle with the bottom of your helmet, trying to pull it off.
“No.” you whisper, batting his hand away.
“What?”
“I can’t- no one can- I’m not allowed.” you reply, but he huffs.
“S’only me, alright? And we don’t know each other. I think. I’m not going to tell anyone.” he promises, but you still don’t let him get too close to touching any skin by your helmet.
“No.” you repeat, a little firmer this time. “Leave me alone.”
“I’m sorry.” Oscar mutters, but you’re already shrugging him off, pushing your way out of the car with a grunt.
Oscar stands with you, slinging an arm under yours, helping you stand. He can feel your glare under your visor.
“I’ve got her from here. Thanks.” says a boy, a little younger than Oscar, but tall. With a kind smile.
“You sure?”
He nods, and Oscar hears a gentle whisper of “Ollie, help.” slip from your lips, before you go limp again.
“Please-”
“Keys are still in the car. Can you drive it back to the garage? You know the one. That’s as much as you can help right now.” Ollie sighs, and Oscar nods.
Oscar hesitates once he makes it to the garage, like he should leave a note, or something. He doesn’t know when you’ll come back, if you’ll come back to race at all, but he needs to apologise more. Needs to do something.
Instead, he grabs the keys, and places them firmly on the pot in the counter by the door, and decides to leave before he does something stupid.
Something catches his eye, though. A lanyard, familiar green straps. That dreaded tree logo of the nursery. He freezes, stepping towards it, threading it under his fingers.
Dutch is someone who works at the kidcare too?
He’s hesitant, turning over the ID at the bottom. He’s not sure who’s face he’s expecting- he runs through all the options in his head- but can’t settle on a guess.
Maybe Sophie. Or Ruth. Could be Nancy, actually. She’d failed her driving test twice, for speeding.
He hadn’t thought it would be your careful smile looking back at him.
You desperately fumble in your pockets for your lanyard, waiting to feel the worn thread and the cool metal clip. The material never comes, and you frown, trying again. Nothing.
You flick your wrist, eyeing the time, cursing to yourself. You’re going to be late, it seems. And you already know that Sophie will reprimand you about setting a good example for the kids, and how you can’t show them that you can be late and get away with it-
“Are you just going to stand by the door, or go in?” comes a snarky voice, low and teasing, and you flex your knuckles instinctively.
“Piastri.” you spit, turning to him and giving him an exaggerated grin. He gestures to the scanner with a practiced boredom, and you almost leap at his throat.
“Forgot my lanyard.” you mumble, with an aggressive demonstration, and a smile flickers over his face. He leans forward, arm stretched in front of you, pushing his own lanyard and nodding as it beeps to life.
As the door opens, you both shift backwards, but he keeps his arm out, barring you.
“Move, Oscar.” you frown, gesturing forward, but he gives you a look of pure disgust.
“You think I'm going to let you tailgate? It’s against company policy. You know this.”
You scowl.
“Although, if you have this, I’ll let you follow me in.” he muses, pulling out your lanyard from his bag, and dangling it by your face. You snatch it, throwing it over your neck.
“Did you- did you steal it from me?”
He shrugs. “Sure, let’s go with that.”
You’re slow, that afternoon. Every other step is accompanied by a quiet wince. You opt to take the quieter bunch of kids, much to Tiggy’s dismay.
Oscar watches you silently, eyebrows creased.
“Why are you worried about her? Is she okay?” a small voice mutters suddenly, tugging at his sleeve. He blinks, looking down at Emily.
“Hey, buddy. I’m not- she’s fine. See, look.” he nods, pointing over at you, as you give them a pained wave. You’re not convincing anyone.
“You look at her like my dad looks at my mum, did you know that? Worried.” Emily adds, and Oscar freezes.
“What?”
“My mum is awesome. She’s a real life superhero, you know? She saves people. But sometimes, she gets hurt, and she aches around the house, like now. And dad always looks at her, just like that. He says you can’t help but be worried when someone you love is hurting, even if you know they’re going to be fine. Is that true?”
Oscar frowns, a little confused. “Is what true?”
“You can’t help but worry if you love someone.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, I think so. I’m always worried about my family, what they’re up to. About my friends- especially when they do something stupid.”
“And you’re worried about her. So that means-”
“That I’m worried because we’re friends. And she’s hurt. You were worried when Tiggy fell over, weren't you? But you don’t love Tiggy all that much. See?”
Emily nods, considering it.
“Okay. Sure. I like that you know things, Oscar.”
“And I like that you ask me lots of questions. You keep me on my toes.” he replies gently.
You hobble over to him, face a little pale.
“I don’t- I don’t feel so good. I’m going to the bathroom for a sec, are you alright here?”
“Go home.” he replies instinctively, and you straighten.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re clearly- I can’t believe you’re even here after- just go home. I’ll cover for you. Seriously, go.”
“I’m fine, Oscar.”
“Go home.” he repeats, a little firmer this time. “Please.”
You give him a confused look, but he recognises the gratitude behind your eyes.
“Okay.”
You can’t sleep that night. Something isn’t adding up, and your stomach aches, and the bruises on your arm are beginning to purple.
So instead, you do the next best thing- get up, fiddle with a cigarette in your coat pocket, and walk to the worn bench by the cliff-edge, overlooking the city.
This is your favourite spot. Everytime your head gets too loud, the twinkle of lights and risk of splinters quietens it.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” you mutter, as you see someone else sat there, arms dangling over the rusted rests.
They turn, and even in the dark, you recognise his face.
“Oh, fuck right off.”
Oscar tenses. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” you shrug, circling to the vacant side of the bench and leaning back, grimacing as you try to hide the ache.
“Thanks, for letting me go home. Paracetamol was doing shit.”
“I could tell.” he grunts, and you hesitate, looking firmly forward.
“Where did you find my lanyard, Oscar?”
“You left it the shift before.” he lies, and you commend how smooth his voice is.
“Bullshit. What did you mean earlier, when you said ‘here after’?-” you ask, tone a little sharper. He inhales.
“Uh, someone told me you’d got into a fight. Well, not you- but someone on campus. Assumed it was you so-”
“Bullshit. Twice. Do you want to start telling the truth, or-”
“-Or what?”
You turn to glare at him now, seething a little. “I thought we’d agreed you didn’t want to test me, Piastri.”
He narrows his eyes. “I’ve changed my mind. You have such a problem with me? Let’s solve it. Go on.”
“You can’t solve being insufferable, Oscar. Now, where did you get my fucking lanyard from? Be honest with me.” you reply, glowering at him.
It all clicks into place, now.
“I told you, you left-”
You lunge at him, shoving him. His back hits the cool wood of the bench, and he winces.
“You dick, Oscar! Or, should I call you Jack?”
He inhales, and the world slows.
“You- what?”
“I left my lanyard in the garage, like I always do before a race. Because I always come back to get it. You hit me. My car is fucking wrecked- and I can’t- they’ll take my scholarship away. I can’t go to anyone. You-” you yell, your voice breaking, as you ball your hands into fists against his chest. He blinks, as your head collapses onto his shoulder. He can feel the tears on your cheeks, but he says nothing, just wrapping his arms around your back.
“I’m sorry. I really am, it was an accident and you’d got into my head, and I was angry. Everything I’m good at- all of it- you’re better. The kids like you more. You’r better at tests, and you’re better at the stupid arcade games. And the one thing I used to be the best at, always the best at, you came in and took that too. I didn’t know it was you, but it felt the same. Like constantly losing. I wanted to be number one.”
“Don’t- don’t blame me for this. You shouldn’t have gotten in the car.” you retort, shoving yourself off him. He falters.
“Well, of course I’m not blaming you. It’s my fault, entirely. I’m sorry. And I wanted to help, but your boyfriend told me the best thing to do was bring your car back, and then I saw the lanyard- and figured-”
“-he’s not my boyfriend, Piastri. C’mon, he’s barely out of high school and he looks it.”
Oscar groans. “That’s what you decided to take from that?”
He watches as your eyes gloss a little again.
“I thought- when everything went blurry- I didn't know if it was coming back.”
He pulls you back towards him, a little more careful. You don’t fight it.
“I had the same thing, a few years back. My family- and the doctors- they banned me from racing. S’why I did it in secret. I understand you.”
“You might be the only one.” you mumble, and the sound is a little muffled against his sweater. He chuckles.
When management is hard, and the world feels like its wrting it self, all you need to do is get into a very fast car. It helps if the driver is cute and looks good in green; you'll be fine.
LS18 x Reader // f1 social media au
Dear request 📩 I didn't know if you wanted the album or just the song but listening to the album, I fell in love, so thank you for the new music recommendation
Am I Okay? (I'll Be Fine)
"Am I Okay?"
"Third Time's the Charm"
"No Caller ID"
"Man on the Moon"
"28th of June"
"Indifferent"
"Noah"
"Miss Universe"
"Mama I Lied"
"I Know You"
"The Girls"
"Heaven by Noon"
"Hope You're Happy"
"Hell of a Show"
-deluxe edition: Additional Tracks
"Break It Right Back"
"Bless Your Heart"
"I'll Be Fine"
Total length: 55:41 / 17 tracks
💿 this-doesn't-exist discography
‧ ੈ₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹
Am I Okay News Site - "Both feet on the ground, but something's changed"
Yn Ln embracing her single era!
Our fan favourite Yn Ln had photos released in April of a nasty break up between her and fellow country singer Zach Top. We thought she'd be broken hearted but clealry single is treating her well.
replies
-> Ln's management has recently released a statement claiming that the relationship ended on mutual terms despite the consistent showing from Top that it was not amicable.
-> -> Yeah but we all know it was just PR focused for both sides
-> What is going on with all these country singers?
Third Time's The Charm Instagram - "'Til the bad boy took me for a ride"
tagged: astonmartinf1, lancestroll, ynln
musicmanagement Yn Ln looks stunning in her passenger princess era! Ln's ride with Lance Stroll will be a moment to remember.
comments
user Please we all know this is publisity
user Why do they look so hot together?
user Actually she fits into the F1 scene so well
user Can we see more of this moment?
user Just a scenic drive for lance
user How did Aston Martin convice Lance to do this?
user SHOCKED
user She moves on so fast
user This is super unfair
user She knows nothing about F1
user Wait for the reveal of another album
lancestroll Thank you for the drive
-> ynln Thanks for the scenery
No Caller ID Messages - "Why do you do it? Do you, just hate losin'"
Man on The Moon Snapchat - "A hundred-thousand miles from here"
28th of June Snapchat Messages - "And now it's just another Tuesday"
Indifferent Twitter - "Losin' my patience and checkin' locations"
Noah News - "And when you hear "Record Year" do you still feel my beatin' heart?"
Photos leaked of Lance Stroll and Yn Ln leaving the Grammy's hand in hand, Ln's latest Grammy in between them. The last time the couple was pictured together was the F1 awards.
We hope they are living their very own Record Year.
Miss Universe Reddit - "We were picture-perfect, thought the distance would be worth it"
All the reasons that Lance Stroll and Yn Ln have no reason to break up
They are already lovely seperatly imagine together
Do you remeber those pro rides photos im still thinking about them
Pictured at the F1 Awards AND the Grammys come on
Apparently according to inside sources they trade Snapchat stories back and forth and that's adorable
I'm waiting for the day they just tell us they adopted a puppy together
HAVE WE SEEN THE LANCE RECORDING STUDIO
Lance made Yn her own recording studio I'm convinced
Anyway I just want to see Yn back at the paddock but I know she's busy so it's a fever dream. I know that Lance is loving her right.
-> Did we know they were dating?
-> I am so confused about this whole situation
-> Actually impressed with this detective skills
-> I'm glad this is on Reddit and not Twitter they are going crazy over there
-> Dating without confirmation
-> Have you thought they aren't dating?
-> I'm not sure
-> YOU ARE SO RIGHT
-> Pleasssssse be real because this feels perfect for the paddock
-> I need to see them at the Met gala next
Mamma I Lied Instagram Stories - "He was stealin' my spark walkin' me straight through hell"
username Yn still hasn't announced anytging???
username No cute soft launch
username Can't wait! When do tickets release?
username A mix of different vibes in these posts
username Whats next? Merch!
username Do we think Yn knows about this?
username Why does this feel wrong
username So soon?
username A PR STUNT
username Not as much spark in this whole launch
username Pink = dreams??? It is very clear that Yn doesn't dreammm
username Is this meant to be an F1 reference?
username Maybe a song for a movie is next
username YAYYYY NEW ALBUM TICKETS BROUGHT
I Know You Twitter - "I'm two thousand miles away, and you can't help that you can't change"
The Girls Messages - "Where we left off is right where we pick up"
Heaven By Noon Twitter - "The strength to get up off this floor"
user1 We all agree that this wasn't Yns choice right??? This seems so fishy from managment
user2 Theres been rumours about bad responses about the new album do we think this is a sign
-> user3 No rumours just the truth it feels unfinished
user4 What weather???
user5 Why hasn't Yn retweeted this? Surely
user6 Not even a like from Yn Ln this was not a collective decision
user7 Honestly to get this whole thing from off the floor takes a whole lot of strength not shocked it's cancelled
Hope You're Happy Instagram Stories - "And you hit every green light, drivin' down the road"
replies
user I don't think we saw this coming
user WE KNOW OMG
user I think Yn is there this weekend??? I think that's why the show got cancelled
user Yn is the good luck charm
user SHE IS SO CUTE!!!
user We have come suuuuch a long way
Hell of a Show Twitter - "Sold out on a marquee, my name is up in lights"
Break It Right Back Instagram - "So go use your fancy big words at your fancy big job"
ynln By the way in case you didn't notice my boyfriend is pretty
comments
lancestroll Did you mean to say pretty smart?
-> fernandoalonso I don't think she did
-> ynln You do say some fancy words at your fancy job
user We didn't need the launch but I love the launch
user SHE'S HAPPY!
user Her clocking Lance
user She can do anything she sets her heart to, even F1
user I want to see her drive next
user And to think this started with a ride day
user Yn teaching Lance is brilliant
user Who knows whats next (Yn does, Lance does not)
user Wheres the proposal???
user Our next power couple
user Lance out here punching and she's calling him pretty
Bless Your Heart Twitter - "I'm kinda busy if you can't tell (Playing shows, being pretty)"
I'll Be Fine Instagram Stories - "Yeah, I'll roll with the punches"
- ੈ✩‧₊˚
💌 Open for Requests, send me an ask
FINAL THOUGHTS: Once again this is a request which maxed out the Tumblr photo limit multiple times and I LOVE IT! Also thank you to the requester for introducing me to a new artist <3
If you got this far 🔎 What's your recommended artist? (Mines Maisie Peters)
