🧡) marie

new writer dont write smut

[vzmariexy]

🧡˚₊‧꒰ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𓆩♡𓆪 f1

✧ grid

- if the f1 drivers were your perfect boyfriends

✧ lando norris

– Not not together - smau

– Dont look at me like that - hurt/comfort

✧ oscar piastri

– Under the same sky - slow burn

✧ kimi antonelli

– Only you know me - best friends to lovers

✧ yuki tsunoda

– Under classified - smau

✧ charles leclerc

– From wings to wheels - smau - in works

✧ more to come..

requests | comment on the fic to be added to its taglist!

[vzmariexy]

OH SNAPALICIOUS ITS SO PRETTYYYYYY

[vzmariexy]

unrelated to fics but what THE HELL was that dnf💔💔💔💔💔 is this what its like to be a ferrari fan

[vzmariexy]

Under The Same Sky

pairing: oscar piastri x f!reader

summary: You work behind the scenes in Formula 1 — not glamorous, not flashy, but essential. You’ve always kept your head down. But when a flight mix-up lands you and Oscar Piastri stuck together in a quiet European town after a race, the quiet between you starts to mean something more.

genre: slow burn

a/n: I AM BACK HOME🙏🙏🙏 anyway 89 followers?? holy cow i didnt expect that much

PT. 1 PT.2

Chapter 3:

The Morning After

Your alarm went off at 6:45 a.m., but you were already awake.

Not because you’d been tossing and turning, but because you were aware — acutely — of the quiet breathing from the other bed.

Oscar was still asleep, one arm thrown over his face to block the soft morning light seeping through the curtains. His hair was a little messy from the pillow, his hoodie bunched up slightly at the hem. It was the most unguarded you’d seen him.

You forced yourself to look away, grabbing your suitcase and starting the ritual of repacking. Zippers, chargers, passports — the checklist you could do in your sleep.

“You’re loud in the mornings,” came a voice, low and rough from sleep.

You turned to find him watching you through half-lidded eyes.

“Sorry,” you said, trying not to smile. “I didn’t realize Formula 1 drivers needed their beauty rest.”

“I’m not a morning person,” he mumbled, but the corners of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to grin.

⸻

The hotel breakfast was quick — coffee to go, a croissant wrapped in a napkin for the journey. The shuttle to the airport was nearly empty, just you, Oscar, and a pair of exhausted businessmen who didn’t even glance up from their phones.

By the time you reached the terminal, the screen above your gate confirmed your flight was on time. You almost didn’t believe it.

You found a spot near the window, watching the early flights taxi to the runway. Oscar dropped into the seat next to you, balancing his coffee on his knee.

“So… back to real life,” he said.

“Back to chaos,” you corrected. “You’ve got media day, I’ve got a shipment of spare parts to make sure clears customs.”

He made a face. “Sounds thrilling.”

“You’d be surprised,” you said, sipping your coffee. “Sometimes the adrenaline rush of paperwork rivals a qualifying lap.”

That earned you a laugh — quick and unexpected, but it lingered in the air between you.

⸻

The flight was quiet, but not in a bad way. You both had aisle seats in the same row, and between the occasional comment about the questionable breakfast sandwich and the shared eye-roll when a toddler kicked the back of your chair, there was a thread of comfort.

At one point, mid-flight, you caught him glancing at you when he thought you weren’t looking. Not a quick glance, either — the kind where someone’s mind is elsewhere, but their eyes are on you.

You didn’t call him out.

⸻

Back at the paddock two days later, it was as if nothing had happened. The noise, the rush, the constant movement — it swallowed the space between you. You were back in your world, Oscar in his, but something felt different.

Passing each other in the hospitality area, you caught his eye. Just a fraction longer than a normal hello. A flicker of recognition.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t a movie scene. But it was there.

⸻

And that’s how it started — not with grand gestures or perfect timing, but with a delay in Vienna and the quiet certainty that this wasn’t the last time your paths would cross in a way that mattered.

[vzmariexy]

hiya!!! i just wanted to tell yall that ive been writing when i was bored in the vacation but ill have to wait until im back home to actually post them! kisses, expect more when im back👀

[vzmariexy]

Under the same sky

pairing: oscar piastri x f! reader summary: You work behind the scenes in Formula 1 — not glamorous, not flashy, but essential. You’ve always kept your head down. But when a flight mix-up lands you and Oscar Piastri stuck together in a quiet European town after a race, the quiet between you starts to mean something more.

genre: slow burn a/n: GUYS DONT KILL ME FOR NOT POSTING💔💔 ive had some busy days overall so thats why

PT. 1

Chapter 2:

One Night In a Foreign City

You woke to the faint sound of running water.

Blinking against the soft morning light filtering through thin hotel curtains, you realized the bathroom door was closed, and the muffled hum of the shower filled the otherwise silent room. For a moment, you forgot where you were — until you spotted Oscar’s backpack leaning against the desk chair, his hoodie draped lazily over it.

Right. Vienna. Flight delay. Shared hotel room with a Formula 1 driver.

You rolled over, pulling the blanket tighter. The mattress was surprisingly comfortable, and if you ignored the fact that you were sharing a room with someone you barely knew, it could almost be peaceful.

The shower shut off. A few minutes later, Oscar emerged — hair damp, hoodie back on, holding a toothbrush in one hand like it was the most casual thing in the world.

“Morning,” he said, as if this was completely normal.

You tried to sit up gracefully. Failed. “Morning. You’re… awake early.”

He shrugged. “Force of habit. I usually run in the mornings.”

You made a noise that could only be described as too tired for fitness. “Good for you. I usually sleep in hotels.”

That earned you a smile.

⸻

Breakfast in the hotel lobby was a modest buffet — bread rolls, small croissants, fruit, and a coffee machine that hissed like it resented being awake. You grabbed a plate and a cappuccino, while Oscar opted for black coffee and enough toast to feed three people.

“Carbs,” he explained when he caught your look. “Racing metabolism.”

You sat at a small table by the window, watching the pale morning light stretch across the cobbled street outside. People passed with briefcases, shopping bags, and bicycles — a rhythm entirely different from the chaos of the paddock.

Oscar followed your gaze. “Ever just… want to stop? Like, freeze a day and stay in it?”

You glanced at him. “All the time. Usually when the transport trucks haven’t broken down yet.”

He smirked. “For me, it’s when no one’s asking if I can ‘just pop into the garage for one more interview.’” He exaggerated the quote with a fake media voice, making you laugh.

⸻

By the time breakfast ended, you had hours to kill before your rescheduled flight. Oscar leaned back in his chair, considering.

“We could just… sit here all day,” he said. “Or—”

“Or?”

He grinned. “Or we could actually see Vienna. It’s a nice city. And technically we’re both off-duty.”

You stared at him. “You’re suggesting a tourist day?”

“Why not? You know the schedules — this is probably the only day all season either of us will get to just… wander around without someone timing us.”

You hesitated, then thought about the alternative: hours in the beige hotel room. “Alright,” you said finally. “But if we get lost, it’s your fault.”

⸻

You didn’t get lost.

You did, however, end up on streets lined with pastel buildings, flower boxes spilling over wrought-iron railings, and the smell of fresh bread wafting from small bakeries. Oscar walked beside you, hands in his hoodie pocket, posture relaxed in a way you’d never seen on race weekends.

At a small café with outdoor tables, you stopped for coffee and Apfelstrudel. The owner, an older woman with a kind smile, set the plate between you. You both picked at it with forks, laughing when you kept meeting in the middle.

“You’re not as quiet as I thought you’d be,” you said at one point.

Oscar tilted his head. “You thought I was quiet?”

“You don’t exactly do the Lando-level media thing,” you teased.

“Yeah, well… I pick my moments.”

Something in his tone made you glance at him, and for a second, his eyes held yours — steady, unhurried. You were the first to look away, clearing your throat.

⸻

By late afternoon, the light softened, and you ended up sitting on the steps of a small fountain in a square, sipping bottled water. Oscar leaned back on his elbows, looking up at the sky.

“Crazy,” he said quietly, “that if the flight hadn’t been delayed, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

You smiled faintly. “Guess the universe wanted you to try Apfelstrudel.”

He chuckled. “Or maybe it wanted me to meet someone who actually knows what happens to the cars after I get out of them.”

The comment warmed you in a way you didn’t want to think too hard about.

⸻

By the time you got back to the hotel, the sky was streaked with gold. Your flight was confirmed for the next morning, but the app was still glitchy and showing backup options. You dropped your bag on the bed while Oscar sat at the desk, pulling out his phone.

“Think we can find something earlier?” he asked, glancing over.

You joined him, leaning over his shoulder to see his screen. “Maybe… but only if you want to spend half your paycheck on last-minute tickets.”

He smirked. “Depends. Would you be worth the upgrade to business class?”

You scoffed, opening your own airline app. “Please. I’d take the upgrade and ditch you for the free champagne.”

He laughed — a quiet, warm sound — and the two of you fell into an easy rhythm of searching flights, comparing prices, and ruling out ridiculous connections (“Three stops through Madrid? Absolutely not.”).

At one point, your heads were so close that you caught the faint scent of his shampoo, still fresh from the morning. You told yourself it was nothing — just proximity. Still, your stomach did a little flip when his shoulder brushed yours as he leaned in to point at a cheaper option.

Eventually, you both gave up.

“Guess we’re stuck until morning,” Oscar said, locking his phone. “Not the worst thing.”

You tilted your head. “You sure?”

He met your eyes for a beat longer than necessary. “Yeah. Pretty sure.”

⸻

When you switched off the light that night, the silence between your beds wasn’t awkward. It was almost… comfortable. Like the city — and maybe the bad luck — had pulled you just a little closer together.

[vzmariexy]

Under the Same Sky

pairing: oscar piastri x f! reader

summary: You work behind the scenes in Formula 1 — not glamorous, not flashy, but essential. You’ve always kept your head down. But when a flight mix-up lands you and Oscar Piastri stuck together in a quiet European town after a race, the quiet between you starts to mean something more.

genre: slow burn

a/n: had this one planned but forgot to write it ty @dvrlinqrxse for commenting about oscar so i was reminded🙏🙏

PT. 2

CHAPTER 1:

Delay In Vienna

Working in Formula 1 logistics meant your entire life was a series of flight itineraries, shipping manifests, and panicked 3 a.m. phone calls about missing cargo. You weren’t the one racing the cars or waving from the podium, but you were one of the people making sure the entire circus moved from country to country like clockwork — ideally without leaving half the paddock behind.

This weekend, though? The clockwork was officially broken.

You had been awake for almost 19 hours, and the floor of the Vienna airport was starting to look like a viable bed.

Somewhere between sprinting to the wrong gate and finding out your connection to Silverstone was canceled, your carefully crafted travel itinerary had imploded. Now, stuck overnight in Austria with a delayed flight, you were trying to make peace with your fate: hotel vouchers, awkward small talk with other stranded personnel, and your suitcase acting as your pillow.

You had your phone in your hand, refreshing flight updates like they might change out of pity.

“Looks like we’re both not getting out of here tonight,” came a calm voice behind you.

You turned.

Oscar Piastri.

He looked just as travel-worn as you felt, hoodie slightly rumpled, backpack slung over one shoulder, and an expression that was… resigned, but not unfriendly.

“Guess McLaren didn’t book the charter flight for the ‘unsung heroes’ this time?” you said, trying to inject some humor.

He smiled — subtle and genuine. “Or maybe they wanted us to bond over airport misery.”

You laughed lightly. “Well, it’s working.”

You hadn’t spoken to Oscar much before. You were part of the logistics crew — transport, scheduling, team movement — the kind of job that only gets noticed when something goes wrong. Drivers existed in a different orbit. But in this moment, you were both just tired people trying to make it to your next destination.

“There’s a hotel shuttle leaving in ten,” Oscar said, nodding toward a nearby screen. “We could share. Better than crashing on a bench.”

You hesitated. “You sure?”

“Unless you snore.”

You gave him a mock-offended look and grabbed your bag.

⸻

The hotel was the kind of place you’d forget as soon as you left: beige carpets, lobby music that tried too hard, and beds that were probably designed by someone who had never actually slept in one. But it had warmth, and a quiet sort of stillness. It beat the terminal.

You were handed your key card at the front desk — and Oscar, who was checking in beside you, frowned slightly at his.

“One room left,” the clerk said. “Two beds, if that’s alright?”

You blinked.

Oscar glanced at you. “Only if you’re okay with it.”

Your brain did a little spin. Of all people to share a hotel room with on this random travel nightmare — Oscar freaking Piastri?

You nodded, slow but sure. “Yeah. It’s fine. I’ve survived worse.”

Oscar grinned. “Race weekends are probably worse.”

“You’ve never seen the back of a DHL truck at 3 a.m.”

“Touché.”

⸻

The room was quiet, and bigger than you expected. Two twin beds, clean sheets, and a lamp with a warm golden hue that made it feel less… sterile. You each drifted into your own rhythm — unpacking essentials, charging phones, ordering food from the vending machine like tired university students.

Eventually, you found yourselves sitting on opposite beds, splitting a questionable sandwich and talking about nothing in particular.

“So what’s it like?” you asked. “Your side of all this?”

Oscar glanced at you. “You mean the racing?”

“Yeah. All of it. I see it from behind the curtain. Must be different in the spotlight.”

He was quiet for a moment. “It’s… intense. Amazing, don’t get me wrong. But sometimes I envy your side of things. You’re not on camera when you mess up.”

You smiled softly. “No, but if I mess up, twenty people end up in the wrong country.”

He laughed. “Fair point.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was surprisingly comfortable — like the kind you get on long drives or late nights when words are optional.

You looked over at him, really looked, and saw the exhaustion, yes — but also something else. A flicker of something curious. Kind.

Maybe this wasn’t the worst flight delay after all.

[vzmariexy]

Hiii I love your work! And I also love kimi…🫣 but can u try to do kimi being obsessed over his childhood bff tht became his gf! All fluff abd cute!! Tysm 💕

ofc!!!

Only You Know Me

summary: Kimi Antonelli, a quiet karting prodigy, finds lifelong support and love in you. Through years of friendship and racing, he finally confesses his feelings after his first F1 podium, making you his true home amid the chaos.

pairing: kimi antonelli x best friend!reader

word count: 1.3k-ish

genre: best friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff

a/n: i hope this is what u mean lol but if u want like a whole fic on the dating part i can continue this one! just drop a comment

He didn’t like many people when he was a kid.

He was too fast for most of them. Too quiet. Always the one off to the side at karting weekends, helmet clutched in his arms, watching lines and thinking about grip while everyone else just wanted to play tag behind the trailers.

But then there was you.

You, who marched up to him on a muddy Saturday and said, “You look like you need a juice box.”

And that was it.

You gave him your spare strawberry Capri-Sun and sat beside him like you’d done it a hundred times before. He didn’t even say thank you. He just nodded, then gave you the last gummy worm from his snack pouch.

That was how it started.

At eight years old, Andrea Kimi Antonelli decided you were his person. You didn’t care that he didn’t talk much. You just kept showing up. Every weekend. Every race. With bandaids in your bag and questions he didn’t know how to answer. You cheered when he won and sat quietly when he didn’t. He never had to ask you to stay.

You just did.

And he never really figured out how to go anywhere without you after that.

By the time you were both twelve, people just assumed you were a package deal. Coaches stopped asking. Mechanics gave you an extra headset without checking. You and Kimi had your own unspoken language, a rhythm no one could replicate. You’d hand him his gloves without looking. He’d pass you his cap without asking. You knew which snacks to avoid before a race. He knew exactly what to say when your nerves kicked in. Which was nothing, most of the time. Just a small nudge of his knee against yours, or a mumbled, “You’re fine.”

He didn’t need many words with you.

That’s what made it so easy.

Until it wasn’t.

He didn’t know exactly when it changed—when your name started getting tangled up in the tightness in his chest. When he started noticing the way your laughter made his ears go warm, or how your hair smelled like strawberries in the sun.

But by fifteen, Kimi was absolutely, irreversibly, in love with you.

And it scared the hell out of him.

He didn’t know how to do love. He knew racing lines and tire compounds. He knew how to calculate oversteer at speed. But not… whatever this was. This thing where you hugged him after a podium and his hands shook for an hour afterward. This thing where your voice was the only thing that calmed him down after a DNF.

So he kept quiet.

Because that’s what Kimi did. He buried things. Let them sit under the surface like engine heat—just enough to keep the fire alive, but never enough to let it boil over.

Except with you, it was getting harder to hold it in.

You were changing too. Softer, older. Sometimes he’d catch you looking at him differently—like you were trying to work something out. Like you were wondering if you felt it too.

But you never said anything.

And neither did he.

When he turned seventeen, the media started paying attention. The “F1 prodigy.” The next Mercedes star. Everyone wanted to talk to him. Everyone wanted a piece.

But you were the only one who never treated him like something new.

“You’re still the same Kimi who tripped over a cone and cried behind the pit wall,” you said once, when he was spiraling after a bad F2 quali.

He groaned. “You promised not to bring that up again.”

“I lied.”

You sat on the edge of his bunk and handed him your half-eaten granola bar. He didn’t even like raisins, but he took it anyway. Because it was you.

Always you.

He didn’t realize he’d started counting time by you until he noticed how empty things felt when you weren’t around. The races blurred together. The podiums didn’t shine as bright. Every part of his life moved at 300 kilometers an hour—except the part where he was waiting to see you again.

He started noticing little things.

Like how you always wrote his name on your water bottle so no one else would take it—even though you only let him drink from it.

Or how you started wearing his team hoodie around the paddock. “It’s comfy,” you shrugged when he asked.

And the worst part?

He caught himself smiling at those things.

Actual, full-on, embarrassing smiles. The kind of smiles that made his engineers raise their eyebrows and George Russell side-eye him in the Mercedes garage.

“You’re down bad,” George said one day, sipping his espresso.

Kimi blinked. “What?”

“For your best friend.”

“I’m not—”

George just laughed. “Mate, you look at her like she put the stars in the sky.”

Kimi had nothing to say to that.

Because it was true.

Still, he stayed silent.

He carried the weight of it through his debut test with Mercedes. Through his rookie seat announcement. Through every press conference where people asked him how it felt to replace a seven-time world champion.

And all he wanted to say was: I don’t care about that. I just want her here.

You came to his first F1 race in Australia wearing his number on your cap and holding a giant “Go Kimi!” sign that you absolutely made yourself. He pretended to roll his eyes, but it was the first time he felt like he could breathe all weekend.

When he qualified P7, the first person he looked for was you.

You ran to him before the media could. Hugged him so tight he could feel your heartbeat against his.

“I’m proud of you,” you whispered.

And he almost told you then. Right there in the middle of the paddock. Just blurted it out like an idiot.

But he didn’t.

He waited.

And waited.

Until Canada.

His first podium.

It was chaos. Rain, red flags, everything he’d trained for finally clicking into place. He stood on the third step of the podium and looked out at the crowd—and saw you, drenched in rain and grinning like you’d won the race yourself.

And in that moment, it all snapped into focus.

He didn’t want another second to go by without telling you.

So he did the only thing he could.

He found you in the garage later, still in your soaked hoodie, shivering with a cup of coffee in your hands.

“You look like a wet cat,” he said.

You laughed. “You look like a champagne bottle.”

He stepped closer. “You’re always here.”

“Of course I am.”

“Why?”

You blinked. “Because I love you, dummy.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them.

Your eyes went wide. “Wait—”

But he was already moving.

He kissed you like he’d been holding it in for years. Because he had. He kissed you with every memory of your childhood, with every heartbeat from every race where you stood by him, with every quiet moment you saved him from himself.

And when he pulled back, your forehead pressed to his, breath shaky, he whispered:

“I love you too.”

You smiled, rain still dripping from your lashes.

“Took you long enough.”

⸻

Now, he doesn’t look for you in the paddock.

Because you’re already at his side.

You wear his hoodie like a uniform. You still steal his drinks and call him out when he gets too in his head.

You never let him forget where he came from.

And when he does good, he doesn’t smile for the cameras.

He does it for you.

Because even after everything he’s won before and has to handle now—karting trophies, world championships, podiums and pressure and legacy—the only thing that’s ever really mattered…

…is you.

The one who gave him a juice box when no one else did.

The one who stayed.

The one who knew him long before the world ever did.

And the only one who ever made him feel like home.

[vzmariexy]

Don’t Look at Me Like That

summary: You go to the coast of Monaco to be alone — to disappear for a while. But when a stranger sits beside you and sees through the silence you’ve been hiding in, everything shifts in the quiet.

pairing: lando norris x Reader

genre: hurt/comfort, slow burn, emotional intimacy

warnings: emotional/mental struggle, loneliness, suppressed emotions

a/n: FIRST FICCCC les goo but pls bare with me because i made it a multi part fic😔

PART 1: the stranger.

The world was loud even when it was quiet.

You’d come to Monaco chasing peace—whatever that meant. You told your friends it was just a little break, some time by the sea, maybe a reset. But you knew what it really was.

Running.

Running from the weight that sat in your chest like it had paid rent. The kind of sadness that didn’t scream, just hummed quietly beneath your skin until you couldn’t tell where it ended and you began.

You hadn’t spoken to anyone all day.

You’d wandered the stone streets until the golden hour swallowed them, ending up on a bench that overlooked the coast—a hidden one, behind the busier boardwalk, where locals rarely came and tourists didn’t think to look.

You liked it there. It felt like no one could see you.

You pulled your hood up, the wind brushing along your cheek as you sat curled in on yourself, arms wrapped around your knees. Your headphones were in, but the music had stopped a while ago. You didn’t care.

The ache was quieter here. Still there, but at least a little farther from the noise of the world telling you to be okay.

You barely noticed when someone approached.

It wasn’t until he sat down on the far end of the bench, maybe two seats away, that you glanced over — just enough to clock the hoodie, the curly hair poking out, the way his head was tipped toward the sea like he was waiting for it to answer him.

You blinked, frowning.

Lando Norris.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not on your bench. Not in your sadness. Not in this moment that didn’t belong to anyone else.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just sat there, hands in his lap, tapping his fingers in a slow rhythm. You were about to look away when his voice broke the silence between you.

“Do you ever feel like you’re falling apart in a way no one can see?”

Your throat tightened.

You could have ignored it. Could have turned away, put your music back on, pretended you didn’t hear him. But something in his tone—soft, careful, almost like he hadn’t meant to say it—rooted you in place.

“…Yeah,” you whispered. “Every day, lately.”

He didn’t look at you. Just nodded, like your answer had confirmed something he already knew.

“You were doing a good job pretending,” he said. “If that helps.”

You huffed out a breath. Not a laugh. Not quite.

“I thought I was.”

“Most people probably wouldn’t notice,” he said. “But I did.”

You finally turned toward him. “Why?”

He looked at you then. Really looked.

And in that moment, you wished he hadn’t.

Because Lando Norris had the kind of eyes that didn’t just see — they understood. And the second his gaze met yours, all that perfectly constructed numbness began to shake loose.

“Because I know that look,” he said. “You’re here, but not really.”

Your lip quivered before you could stop it. You bit down, hard.

Lando’s voice softened even more. “Don’t look away. It’s okay.”

You wanted to turn. You wanted to leave. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. He was a stranger. A famous one. This was your private unraveling and he was not supposed to be in it.

But somehow, his presence didn’t feel invasive. It felt… parallel. Like he wasn’t stepping into your pain, just sitting next to it.

“I didn’t mean to ruin your peace,” you murmured.

“You didn’t.” A small pause. “Honestly, I think you saved mine a little.”

That made you blink.

He leaned back slightly, resting his arm along the back of the bench, body loose in a way that didn’t match the weariness in his eyes.

“Today was… too much. Too many people saying too many things I didn’t believe.”

“Sounds familiar.”

He smiled at that — small, tired, but real.

You looked away, back at the sea. “It’s weird. Being surrounded by beauty and still feeling like you’re sinking.”

“I get that more than I want to admit.”

Another silence. But not a heavy one.

He let you have space. You let him stay.

That was the deal, unspoken and understood.

Eventually, your voice came back, softer. “What would you do if you could disappear for a bit?”

“I’d come here,” he said. “To this bench. Exactly like this.”

You glanced sideways. “Even with a stranger?”

“Especially with a stranger who’s not trying to fix me.”

Your lips twitched. It wasn’t a smile, but it wanted to be.

Lando sat forward, elbows on his knees, fingers threading together.

“Can I ask something?” he said.

You nodded.

“Are you okay with silence?”

You looked at him, really looked, and saw in his expression that he didn’t want to talk for the sake of talking. He just didn’t want to be alone in whatever this quiet was between you.

“Yeah,” you said. “I think that’s all I’ve got right now anyway.”

He nodded, letting out a breath like that was exactly the answer he needed.

And so, you sat together—two strangers orbiting the same quiet storm, saying nothing more.

But somehow, in the hush between waves and city lights, the loneliness didn’t feel so sharp anymore.

[vzmariexy]

Under Classified

pairing: yuki tsunoda x fbi agent!reader

summary: She’s an FBI agent. He’s an F1 driver. Her account’s private, his life isn’t. No one expected the soft launch, and definitely not the hard one. A world where catching fugitives is easy — but falling in love? That’s classified.

genre: smau

a/n: GUYS IK ANOTHER SMAU BUT PLS I HAD THIS BOMB IDEA and pls lmk if anyone did this

@agent.y/l/n 🔒

Liked by @yuki, @agent_kim, @specialagent_jones and 216 others

travelling… again.

@yuki keeping busy as always, hm?

 – @agent.y/l/n someone’s gotta keep up with cases

@lando coffee’s looking strong , bet you need it after chasing criminals around the globe

 – @agent.y/l/n don’t remind me… maybe they should slow down for once

@oscarpiastri your passport must be working overtime, agent

 – @agent.y/l/n unofficially unofficial jet setter

@agent_kim hey, when’s the next coffee run? I’m slacking over here ☕️

 – @agent.y/l/n get in line, Kim

@specialagent_jones you’re killing it, as always. Proud of you.

 – @agent.y/l/n thanks, Jones. Means a lot coming from you

@yuki

Liked by @agent.y/l/n, @lando, @charles_leclerc, @maxverstappen, @georgerussell, 120,000 others

@lando nothing beats those chill Tokyo nights 🔥

 - @oscarpiastri for real, the calm before the storm

  - @maxverstappen always killing it, on and off track

@f1fanatic that hand shot tho 👀

 - @f1_racequeen downtime vibes over hands lol

  - @racingjunkie need more posts like this

@charles_leclerc clean shots, clean vibes

 - @yuki you know it, Charles

  - @lando gotta get a moment like that someday

@racingjunkie more off-track moments please 🙌

@agent.y/l/n 🔒

Liked by @agent.kim, @sanchez_ops, @agent.lawson, @yuki, and 127 others

working overtime for #7.. ⏰

@agent.kim coffee and classified folders… you’re really thriving this week

 – @agent.lawson she only works well under pressure, we know this

@agent.y/l/n liked this comment

  – @sanchez_ops pressure makes diamonds, or burnt-out agents

@yuki you didn’t even text back 😐

 – @agent.kim let the woman work

- @agent.y/l/n what my girl said

@fbi.west.div good luck with the debrief, East division’s watching 👀

 – @sanchez_ops we don’t need luck

- @agent.y/l/n are they even keeping up with the competition?

@lando this feels very… secret agent coded

 – @agent.lawson she is the mission

@f1.tea

🚨| Spotted: Yuki Tsunoda arriving at a restricted-access federal building in Los Angeles this morning, reportedly one of the FBI’s local HQs.

No confirmed reason for his visit — no media, no team staff, no security. Just him, sunglasses, and a coffee. 👀

Fans are speculating… but we’re just asking: what’s an F1 driver doing at a federal agency?

🗯️ Drop your theories.

Liked by @tsunodafiles, @formulawives, @gridgirlcentral, @f1source, and 1,432,793 others

@tsunodafiles so we’re just casually walking into the fbi now??

– @f1source he didn’t even try to sneak in, he just walked

@gridgirlcentral this is either very romantic or very illegal

– @formulawives why not both tbh

@f1updates okay but he looked too calm walking in. this man has done this before

– @paddockgossip the way he adjusted his sunglasses was cinematic

@user68221 wait… isn’t @agent.y/l/n based in l.a too? shes also very yuki’s type

– @gridgirlcentral don’t do this now

– @tsunodafiles no because now it makes sense

@yukihub i just know it smells like coffee and classified documents in there

– @agent.russo liked this comment

@detective.y/l/n 🔒

Liked by @agent.kim, @sanchez_ops, @fbi.west.div, @yuki, and 482 others

#7 off the list. 3 years too late, 10 seconds too fast.

@fbi.east.division maybe next time don’t blink.

@agent.kim west stays undefeated

– @fbi.hq.la east hasn’t recovered since 2021 tbh

@sanchez_ops still can’t believe you pulled this without backup

– @agent.kim classic y/l/n behavior

@agent.y/l/n liked this comment

- @agent.y/l/n love you kimmy❤️❤️

@fbi.east.division you were supposed to wait

– @agent.y/l/n but i didn’t

- @fbi.west.div OOP SHE ATE

@lando how do you make arrest photos look like editorials

– @sanchez_ops we ask ourselves this every week

@yuki i feel like i shouldn’t be seeing this

– @agent.kim you shouldn’t, focus on cars

@fbi.official damn. legend move. going into the books

@fbi.west.div posted this to the wall already

@formula1

See more pictures

Liked by @charles_leclerc, @lando, @mercedesamgf1, @agent.y/l/n, and 1,203,992 others

We asked the drivers, watch below:

formula1.com/weaskedthedrivers/footpursuit (a/n pls dont search this idk what it might lead to)

@lando she really would

- @alex_albon he’s not lying and we all know it

- @georgerussell63 she probably already has a plan mapped out

- @fbi.hq.la we trained her for this moment 😌

@charles_leclerc i’d ask for a head start

- @pierregasly you’d still lose

- @charles_leclerc unnecessary but fair

@yuki i’ve accepted my fate. it’s fine.

- @tsunodafanclub this is the softest arrest we’ve ever witnessed

- @yukination free him (he’s innocent… probably)

@racewifeedits he’s so boyfriend-coded it hurts

- @f1girlies this whole quote is going on my lockscreen rn

- @f1teaarchive imagine your man just surrendering cause you’re that powerful

@agent.kim tell him we trained her well

- @sanchez_ops west division strikes again

- @fbi.west.div she doesn't chase. she hunts

@agent.y/l/n smart man. knows when to quit.

…

@agent.y/l/n 🔓One time public post

Liked by @yuki, @lando, @agent.kim, @sanchez_ops, @fbi.hq.la, @fbi.west.div, and 672.834 others

about time

(and yeah, he’s worth it)

@yuki about time you made it official

- @fbi.west.div finally she’s outta the shadows

- @lando no more hiding👀

@lando happy for you both

- @agent.kim she’s got him wrapped around her finger

- @sanchez_ops bet she’s the real boss though

@fbi.hq.la proof that the west division always delivers

- @agent.y/l/n wouldn’t have it any other way

@fbi.east.division west division always bragging, huh? we’ll see who’s got the real moves

- @fbi.west.div all talk, no action. you know how we do it out here

@f1fansdaily couple goals tbh

- @yukination can’t wait for more pics

@softlaunchwatch official seal of approval from the best team

- @fbi.west.div you know it

………

@agent.y/l/n 🔒

Liked by @fbi.west.div, @agent.kim, @sanchez_ops, @lando, @yuki, and 9,834 others

mission: solo — completed.

caught the fbi’s #1 most wanted after 17 years on the run.

honored to receive the honored citizen of U.S.A recognition award at the United Nations Headquarters.

broadcast live on @cnn

tagged: @fbi.west.div @fbi.hq.la

p.s: @fbi.east.division, you should just give up

@fbi.west.div finally, the west division showing up big

- @agent.kim solo mission, all the respect

- @sanchez_ops 17 years and you got him, that’s insane

@yuki congrats, couldn’t be prouder babe🤍

- @lando absolute legend

@fbi.east.division not gonna lie, that was impressive

- @fbi.west.div try to keep up next time

- @agent.y/l/n exactly, and thank you for subtly admitting we are just better

@fbi.hq.la this is what happens when you mess with the west

- @agent.y/l/n teamwork makes the dream work

@cnn official coverage was 🔥

- @agent.kim made history tonight

@fbi.official congratulations on this outstanding achievement

- @fbi.west.div proud to have you on our team

@secretservice.us respect to the solo takedown

- @agent.kim exceptional work

@fbi.official

Liked by @fbi.west.div, @fbi.hq.la, @agent.kim, @sanchez_ops, @detective.y/l/n, @secretservice.us, @justiceleague, @yuki, and 725.932 others

Honoring Agent Y/L/N for the solo capture of the FBI’s #1 most wanted after 17 years on the run. A fearless mission that defines FBI and West Division excellence. Your dedication and bravery inspire us all.

The FBI salutes your commitment to justice.

#FBIPride #WestDivisionStrong #JusticeServed

@fbi.west.div proud is an understatement

- @agent.kim nobody does it like west, or maybe i should just say Y/L/N

- @sanchez_ops give her her own wing already

@fbi.hq.la excellence in its purest form

- @director.dh the bar just got raised

@fbi.east.division we’ll admit it this once. legendary work.

- @fbi.west.div say it louder next time 👂

@secretservice.us true operational precision. hats off.

- @fbi.official thank you for standing with us

@cnn history was made. honored to have broadcasted it live

- @detective.y/l/n appreciate the coverage

@yuki still can’t believe you did it alone. proud doesn't cover it

@justiceleague how do we recruit her

- @fbi.west.div shes fbi through and through, dont try us

[vzmariexy]

Not not together

summary: What starts as a few casual posts and lattes in NYC slowly turns into a soft launch, a lot of chaos in the comments, and one very public hard launch that sends the F1 fandom spiraling.

a/n: okay so first fanfic i wanted insta so bad so duhh i hope yall like it!!

@y/n.gaslyyy

liked by @lando , @george.russell and 872.431 others

nyc weekends + oat lattes☕️🧸

@pierregasly where.did.you.get.that.hoodie.from.

 - @y/n.gaslyyy its only a piece of clothing, pierre. calm down.

  - @alex_albon i love it here

   - @carlossainz55 same 😭

@lilymhe ok but someone’s clearly taking these 🫢

 - @y/n.gaslyyy tripod supremacy <3

  - @georgerussell63 the tripod’s wearing Off-White and has curly hair, huh?

@oscarpiastri photo 3 is a man. with arms. we know this.

 - @charles_leclerc those are suspiciously mclaren-coded arms

  - @pierregasly i am one call away from deleting your internet

@y/n.gaslyy can someone get my brother off my post

 - @lando liked this comment

@lando

liked by @charles_leclerc, @y/n.gaslyyy, and 1,678,901 others

late nights, fast lanes, stolen moments, nyc🖤

@georgerussell63 poetic captions now?

 – @lando let me evolve, man

  – @alex_albon you’re entering your romcom protagonist era and i support it

   – @carlossainz55 barely

@y/n.gaslyyy stolen moments? who stole what.

 – @lando my peace and quiet probably

  – @y/n.gaslyyy sounds like a you problem <3

   @lando liked this comment

@charles_leclerc two coffees… again?

 – @landonorris maybe i’m just thirsty

  – @oscarpiastri thirsty for what though 👀

    @lando liked this comment

    – @y/n.gaslyyy 👁️👁️

@lilymhe that second slide feels… intentional

 – @lando just good lighting and a fast shutter 🤷‍♂️

  – @y/n.gaslyyy hmmm so the person there doesnt matter anymore i see

   – @georgerussell63 soft launch alert 🚨

    @lando has limited @georgerussell63’s ability to comment

@y/n.gaslyyy on stories

mwah

Posted for ~30 minutes before disappearing.

@formulatea

uhh so… y/n gasly (yes, pierre’s sister) posted something on her story last night and then deleted it after exactly 25 minutes. and besties… it was not subtle.

mirror selfie. oversized hoodie. slightly lifted phone. and behind her? very clearly someone kissing her on the cheek — hand on her waist, curls in the frame, face juuust out of view. hers too. we’re talking intentional soft launch behavior.

the internet is already clocking the hoodie as one Lando’s worn before (🫣), and guess who’s also currently in NYC? connect the dots.

no reposts yet — but screenshots exist. and the group chat is on fire.

@y/n.gaslyyy

liked by @lando, @pierregasly, @charles_leclerc, and 2,345,678 others

enfin trouvé mon endroit préféré 🖤(i finally found my favourite place🖤)

@lando mon endroit préféré, c’est toi 🖤(my favourite place is you🖤)

@y/n.gaslyyy liked this comment

 – @y/n.gaslyyy ok calm down rimbaud

  – @charles_leclerc wait wait wait he’s speaking french now?

   – @georgerussell63 this is worse than the soft launch i’m actually sweating

@pierregasly i’m going to close my eyes and pretend i didn’t see this

 – @y/n.gaslyyy you liked it 3 seconds after it posted

  – @alex_albon LMAOOO exposed

@lilymhe lando eating pizza is my roman empire

 – @carlossainz55 he looks so happy it’s annoying

@oscarpiastri now THIS is a hard launch

 – @georgerussell63 calling the embassy

  – @lando blocked.

@f1wagupdates so we were right. got it. thank you.

@lando

Liked by @y/n.gaslyyy, @charles_leclerc, @mclaren, and 3,201,874 others

how do you say everything all at once in french?

@y/n.gaslyyy you’re literally unbearable

 – @lando you love it

  – @charles_leclerc we get it. you’re in love.

   – @georgerussell63 don’t make me start blocking people

    – @lando liked this comment

@pierregasly i’m choosing peace. i will not comment. i will not react.

 – @y/n.gaslyyy bro you’re literally commenting right now

  – @alex_albon he’s spiraling in real time

@lilymhe this post tastes like oat lattes and a private spotify playlist

 – @carlossainz55 why is that so accurate it hurts

  – @oscarpiastri we lost him. he’s a simp now.

   – @lando corrected: i’ve been a simp

@mclaren social team crying rn huh

 – @lando they’ll live

  – @y/n.gaslyyy unless you give them more pics

   – @lando liked this comment

@f1wagupdates we won. no notes.

[vzmariexy]

📙˚₊‧꒰ requests open! ꒱‧₊˚

i write pretty much anythingg ♡

send in a driver + a vibe / prompt (fluff, angst, comfort, hurt/comfort, etc.)

i’ll either turn it into a quick fic, a headcanon set, or a full piece depending on what u ask for!

˗ˏˋ ♡ who i write for: ˎˊ˗

lando, oscar, charles, lewis, max, liam, george, kimi, fernando, lance, alex, carlos, nico, gabriel, esteban, ollie, pierre, jack, yuki, isack, maybe tennis players?

(ask if you don’t see someone you love!)

🧡 send requests via inbox!

no smut, no hate, and no weird stuff pls

[vzmariexy]

If the F1 drivers were your perfect boyfriends | Headcanons

⋆｡°✩ pairing: f1 grid x f! reader

⋆｡°✩ wc: 1.2k

⋆｡°✩ summary: what it might be like to be loved by the fastest guys on the track

⋆｡°✩ a/n: ayy! my first posttt! i feel like these arent the best but i tried guys

Lando Norris

1. Always waits in the car until he sees you get inside your house safely.

2. Gets visibly annoyed when you call yourself anything less than perfect.

3. Buys snacks he doesn’t even like because he knows you do.

4. Gets extra soft-spoken when you’re upset — like his voice alone could calm you.

5. Has a playlist titled with your initials that he won’t let you see.

Oscar Piastri

1. Sits next to you during flights even when it’s not his assigned seat.

2. Prefers holding your pinky instead of your hand when you’re in public.

3. Always offers to do the dishes if you’re too tired — no matter the time.

4. Makes you tea exactly how you like it without asking.

5. Occasionally wakes you up by whispering that he’s in love with you.

Charles Leclerc

1. Always looks at you during interviews when your name is mentioned.

2. Will defend your honor over something as small as someone interrupting you.

3. Keeps a photo of you in his helmet bag for every race.

4. Traces your spine when you fall asleep on his chest.

5. Says “mon amour” with a grin when you’re being stubborn.

Lewis Hamilton

1. Buys you books he thinks you’d like and annotates them with sticky notes.

2. Has you saved in his phone as “home.”

3. Texts you poems when he can’t sleep — even if they’re unfinished.

4. Loves watching you get ready and always says “worth the wait.”

5. Puts his hand on your lower back when he walks past you, no matter what.

Max Verstappen

1. Lowkey obsessed with making sure you’re warm — blankets, jackets, always.

2. Lets you win in Mario Kart until you get cocky, then destroys you.

3. Drives a bit slower when you’re in the car, but won’t admit it.

4. Kisses your shoulder instead of your cheek when he’s being soft.

5. Gets a little clingy post-race and never wants to let go.

Liam Lawson

1. Remembers the tiniest things you say and brings them up months later.

2. Hides snacks in his bag for you during long paddock days.

3. Teases you constantly, but softens the second you look upset.

4. Always lets you wear his caps, even the limited editions.

5. Looks like he doesn’t care but literally melts when you compliment him.

George Russell

1. Genuinely thinks your laugh is the best sound he’s ever heard.

2. Reaches for your hand when he’s overwhelmed, even in public.

3. Talks about you to the engineers like you’re royalty.

4. Opens every door for you like he was trained to do it.

5. Hugs you like he hasn’t seen you in years, even if it’s been hours.

Kimi Antonelli

1. Tries to play it cool but gets red-eared whenever you compliment him.

2. Gets nervous before introducing you to anyone — even his teammates.

3. Sends you memes at 2am when he can’t sleep.

4. Always finds a way to bring you up in conversation.

5. Watches you like he’s still surprised you chose him.

Fernando Alonso

1. Calls you “mi vida” when he’s not even thinking about it.

2. Genuinely impressed by everything you do, even the smallest things.

3. Loves brushing your hair out of your face like it’s second nature.

4. Sends you old love songs with cryptic “made me think of you” texts.

5. Buys two of everything just so you’ll have one at his place.

Lance Stroll

1. Doesn’t say “I love you” a lot — but shows it constantly.

2. Always gives you the comfiest hoodie he owns, no questions asked.

3. Watches you from across the room like you’re the only person there.

4. Gets you flowers randomly and says, “they reminded me of you.”

5. Sleeps better when you’re curled into his side.

Alexander Albon

1. Steals your phone just to change your wallpaper to a goofy selfie of him.

2. Brings you your favorite drink before you even ask.

3. Makes playlists with chaotic titles just for you two.

4. Teaches you useless racing terms just to sound cool.

5. Always checks if you’re cold, even in the middle of summer.

Carlos Sainz

1. Insists on cooking for you and gets flustered when you compliment it.

2. Wraps his arm around you instinctively in crowds.

3. Says “I missed you” like he didn’t just see you that morning.

4. Lets you win arguments only when he knows you’re right.

5. Texts “tell me when you’re home” even if you’re five minutes away.

Nico Hülkenberg

1. Teases you constantly but defends you like it’s his job.

2. Sends dry, sarcastic texts that always make you laugh.

3. Loves when you steal his shirts — pretends he’s mad but secretly proud.

4. Always down to drive anywhere with you, no plan needed.

5. Acts tough but melts when you compliment his laugh.

Gabriel Bortoleto

1. Gets super touchy when he’s sleepy — always pulling you closer.

2. Sends selfies when he’s traveling and says “wish you were here.”

3. Writes your name in notebooks without realizing it.

4. Loves when you wear his racing merch, grins every time.

5. Constantly asks “are you okay?” even when nothing’s wrong.

Esteban Ocon

1. Gives the best forehead kisses, always unexpected but needed.

2. Notices when you change something — new earrings, new shoes, always.

3. Wants you at every race even if it’s not realistic.

4. Sends voice notes because “he wants you to hear it from him.”

5. Puts you as his phone background and doesn’t care who sees.

Oliver Bearman

1. Acts all cool until you kiss his cheek — then he short circuits.

2. Secretly brags about you to anyone who’ll listen.

3. Holds your hand in the car even if he’s just using one finger.

4. Tells you his race strategy like it’s a love language.

5. Loves when you steal his paddock passes just to mess with him.

Pierre Gasly

1. Smirks every time someone asks how you two met — never tells the full story.

2. Sends photos of cute things he sees and says “this is you.”

3. Sneaks kisses when no one’s looking like it’s a challenge.

4. Writes his initials on your coffee cups in Sharpie.

5. Gets all possessive when someone flirts with you — zero chill.

Jack Doohan

1. Treats your texts like gold — replies instantly, no matter what.

2. Uses your perfume as air freshener when you’re gone too long.

3. Sends “you’d love this” every time he eats somewhere new.

4. Draws hearts on your arm with his finger when you’re lying next to him.

5. Is absolutely the type to show you off in every photo dump.

Yuki Tsunoda

1. Cooks for you every time you’re upset — food is love.

2. Gets really quiet when he’s missing you but won’t admit it.

3. Surprises you with weird snacks “because it looks like something you’d like.”

4. Gets pouty if you cancel plans but forgives you immediately.

5. Always offers you the last bite, even if he wanted it.

Isack Hadjar

1. Posts pictures of you with no caption — just a little heart in the corner.

2. Makes you laugh until you can’t breathe, then acts like it’s no big deal.

3. Tries to teach you French swear words and gets smug when you say them right.

4. Likes to pretend he’s chill but gets jealous way too fast.

5. Falls asleep during calls but won’t hang up unless you do.