Find Your Way Home

Half a Step - KA¹²

Kimi Antonelli x Wolff!reader

Summary - Kimi and the daughter of Toto Wolff find themselves enamoured with each other from across the garage.

Contains - pure fluff, awkward teenage love

The sun hung low over the paddock, casting everything in golden light. Race day was winding down, and the buzz of engines had given way to the softer sounds of crew laughter and debriefs. The clamour of the crowd was gone, replaced by something more intimate, the quiet hum of a team catching its breath.

Y/n Wolff leaned against the railing outside the Mercedes hospitality suite, sipping on a melting strawberry smoothie and watching the bustle below. She’d grown up around these tracks, the daughter of Team Principal Toto Wolff, but it never got old, the energy, the thrill of it all.

And lately, it had gotten even harder to ignore one particular part of the scenery.

Kimi Antonelli

Mercedes’ newest young driver. Barely 18, full of raw talent and the sweetest smile the Wolff girl has ever seen. Kimi had joined the Mercedes academy years ago but his presence in the garage became more prominent in 2024 as he prepared to step up to formula one.

Y/n had to pretend her heart didn't stutter every single time he entered the garage, she had to pretend that him simply walking past and giving her a friendly wave didn't make her cheeks flush and head spin. And now with the boy being in the garage full time, she was finding it harder and harder not to fall hopelessly in love with the boy.

And she had no idea that, across the garage, Kimi Antonelli was doing exactly the same thing.

Kimi sat perched on one of the low pit wall barriers, boots dangling, helmet resting beside him. His hands twisted the strap of his gloves absentmindedly as he tried — and failed — to focus on the technical debrief happening a few metres away.

His eyes kept drifting.

To her.

Y/n was a vision in the fading light, her hair catching the last strands of sunshine, her laugh — even when faint and tucked into a private conversation with one of the mechanics — sending an ache straight through his chest.

He knew he shouldn't stare. She was Toto’s daughter, practically paddock royalty, and Kimi was just the kid. The rookie trying to prove himself worthy of the same seat greats had sat in.

But it was hopeless.

Every time she was near, it was like the whole garage shifted, the world blurring at the edges until there was only her.

She was sunshine. And he was a boy who wanted to be worthy of standing in it.

From her spot by the railing, Y/n felt it — the weight of his gaze.

It had been happening more and more lately. Little glances from across the garage. Half-smiles traded over laptops and telemetry sheets. A kind of silent conversation neither of them was brave enough to voice.

Her father wasn't strict, but she knew he watched everything. And if Toto had noticed the soft way Kimi’s eyes lingered on her, or the way her laugh brightened whenever Kimi was around, he hadn’t said anything yet.

At least, not out loud.

Because Toto had noticed.

He'd caught the way Kimi looked at his daughter once — when she wasn’t watching — a gaze so open, so careful, it had stopped him mid-sentence. And he'd seen it in Y/n, too — the way her face lit up the moment Kimi entered a room, the nervous twirling of her fingers when Kimi was nearby.

Toto had seen it in both of them, separately, quietly.

And while a part of him was protective — would always be protective — another part of him, the part that understood how rare it was to find something real in the high-speed, high-stakes world they lived in, was quietly, secretly rooting for them.

The garage lights buzzed on overhead, casting a cooler glow over everything now that the sun was sinking fast.

Kimi slid off the barrier and tugged at his race suit sleeves. He should go. The engineers would be waiting for him. There was data to review, meetings to attend, future races to prepare for.

But instead, he found himself walking toward the hospitality suite.

Toward her.

Y/n spotted him immediately, her stomach flipping in that stupid way she couldn’t control.

He slowed when he reached her side, a little breathless — maybe from the walk, maybe from the nerves that always prickled under his skin around her.

"Hey," he said, voice softer than the background chatter of the packing crew.

"Hey," she answered, setting her smoothie down and turning fully toward him.

For a moment, neither spoke. They just stood there, a few feet apart, the world busy around them but somehow silent between them.

"You were amazing today," she said finally, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Kimi flushed — not from the compliment itself, but from the way she said it. Like she really meant it. Like he wasn’t just some rookie. Like he was hers to be proud of.

"Thanks," he mumbled, a little shy. "I... uh... I saw you watching."

Y/n laughed under her breath, biting her lip. "Busted."

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, gloves still twisting in his hands. "I always... I mean, I always look for you. After."

Her heart stuttered.

"Oh" she whispered, not sure what to say as a pink blush spreads across her cheeks.

The air between them stretched and tightened, sweet and terrifying all at once.

Kimi took a half-step closer, so close now she could see the faint freckles dusted across his nose, the nervous flutter of his lashes.

"I don't really know what I'm doing," he admitted, voice barely above the breeze. "But I... I like being around you. I always have."

Y/n smiled, slow and wide and aching.

"I like being around you, too."

A long, full moment passed — the kind of moment that feels like the edge of something big, the kind you only get once if you’re lucky.

From a distance, tucked into the doorway of the hospitality suite, Toto watched them.

He saw the look on Kimi’s face — the one he’d caught before — and the way Y/n smiled back at him, unguarded and full of something too bright to be anything but real.

He shook his head with a quiet smile, already resigned.

Maybe he couldn’t protect her from everything. Maybe he didn’t even need to.

Maybe sometimes, you just had to let good things happen.

Kimi swallowed hard. "Maybe we could, um... hang out sometime? Outside the garage?"

Y/n’s heart swelled, almost painfully.

"I’d like that," she said. "A lot."

He smiled, a real one, bright and a little crooked, and more beautiful than any trophy.

Their awkward smiling and blushing moment was interrupted as Kimi was approached by Bono for a debrief. They stood staring at each other unsure of what to do but as Bono called for Kimi again he gave her a wave and a smile, backing away still looking at her until he hit a wall.

She giggled softly at his clumsiness and his blush only grew, he had to reluctantly turned around following Bono into one of the meeting rooms, leaving Y/n planted in her spot.

Her trance was broken by the sound of someone's voice clearing, that someone being her father as he passed her by on his way to the meeting room following after Kimi and Bono. He looked at her with a knowing smirk and a wink before he disappeared into the meeting room.

Y/n's eyes widened and her cheeks grew impossibly redder.

Oh shit.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆────────────────────────

Word count: 1.3k

Hey, I don’t know exactly how to place an order but I have one for Lando Norris x Fem! Reader.

The reader has diabetes and during a stream from Lando and Max she ends up having hypoglycaemia?

Sudden Drop

Full Masterlist Lando Norris Masterlist

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!reader

Summary: you have diabetes and have a sudden low blood sugar drop…during a livestream.

Warnings: hypoglycaemia, near fainting, swearing (please tell me if I’ve missed any?!!!)

You have hypoglycaemia which is where you have low blood sugar drops.

Lando openly talks about how much he hates it, not in a mean way. But he hates how many near heart attacks he has when you have random episodes of where your blood sugar drops.

He even went to the lengths of buying you an expensive Apple Watch to track your blood sugar levels throughout the day. And he also keeps apple juice box’s around everywhere…literally everywhere.

Max stares into the camera as he checks to make sure the stream is working. “Chat?- can you hear me?” He asks to the screen and watches the chat section roll with comments and answers, most saying yes.

Lando was sat on Max’s bed behind him, scrolling on his phone mindlessly. You was laying on top of him, snuggled into his shirt.

You had just had your diabetes medication an hour before and you hadn’t eaten anything yet, too tired to get up and eat something. You knew your doctors had told you to eat something after taking your medication but you thought today you could just leave it for a while…you was wrong.

Max was talking to the stream, he was also setting up the sim for him and Lando to play. “Lando? I think it’s ready mate”

Lando looks up from his phone and nods lightly. He looks down at you and gently moves you off to get up.

He sits down next to max and holds the steering wheel. He grins and makes pretend car noises.

Max rolls his eyes amused “anyway-“

Lando chuckles. And then they start play in and racing on an f1 simulator.

After a couple minutes you get bored and stand up, moving to stand by Lando. Lando looks up “baby? What’s up?” He asks quietly, moving his mic away.

You rub your eye and sit down on his lap, he instinctively holds your waist to make room for you.

“Comfy?” He asks quietly and kisses your temple. You nod and relax into his chest, watching the chat comments and landos screen.

Max groans when he crashes in the game “this is stupid.” Lando chuckles “nah- you just suck.”

Max gives the stream a deadpanned look and rolls his eyes amused.

User1: MAX KEEPS CRASSHING 💀

User2: why’s y/n so quiet?

User3: ikr?

User4: I LOVE YALL

Lando had also noticed your quietness, usually you was quite loud and jokey during streams. He gently presses his lips to your cheek and whispers “baby? You okay?”

You let out a small sigh and nod “mhm..”

Lando furrows his brows, his gut telling him something was wrong. He uses one hand on the steering wheel and holds your other with his. And he notices how shaky your hands are…

You felt awful, your eyes were blurry and felt pressure on them. Your head was fuzzy and stomach queasy. And not to mention how pale you looked. You looked like a ghost through the camera of the stream.

Max hadn’t noticed what was going on, too busy throwing a rage fit at the game “Oh my godddddd”

Lando was too focused on you than the game, he let go of his steering wheel entirely and looks to you “babe? When did you take your medication?” He asks as he lifts your sleeve up, looking at your watch and checking your blood sugar levels.

You know your brows as you try to think, your brain fuzzy. “Uh- like…an hour ago..” you say through trembling lips.

Lando eyes widen and looks at your watch “an hour ago?!” He exclaims as he reads your watch, your blood sugar levels dropped massively.

“Have you ate anything?” He asks worried as he holds your cheek, turning you to face him. Not bothered about the stream.

Max looks over, now also worried. You shake your head “I was too tired..I was gonna have something later”

Lando shakes his head, annoyed with himself for not making something for you. “You should’ve asked me to get something- you know you need to eat after your meds” he sighs and gently lifts you up onto max’s bed.

You sit on his bed, your hands even more shaky and your eyes more blurry.

Lando looks at you worried “are you okay? Your shaking like crazy”

You shake your head “I feel faint..” you manage to say quietly.

Lando nods and quickly goes to grab an apple juice from the kitchen, he rushes off to the kitchen.

Whilst he’s gone, max looks at you “don’t faint on me” he says trying to lighten the mood. You form a small smile “ha ha. Funny.”

Max chuckles lightly but then he sees you shut your eyes a little “hey- I was kidding- lay down. Don’t faint.”

You sigh and lay down “sorry- I won’t…I just- feel really dizzy..”

Max sits back by his laptop and starts looking at the stream again and calls out for Lando “Lando! Hurry up.”

Lando groans and rushes back in, pushing max away from his keyboard “move”

Max knots his brows confused “what are you doing-?”

Lando keeps quiet for a second as he goes off the stream, ending it.

Max eyes widen “hey- what’re you doing?”

Lando rolls his eyes “I’m buying her apple juice. We have none, we ran out. And we don’t have anything else either.” He says as he orders some from the closest shop down the road.

Max nods lightly and looks over to you, you look pale and weak.

Lando moves away from the keyboard and stands next to you, holding your shaky hand “baby? Stay awake for me yeah? I’ve ordered some apple juice and some fruit and stuff”

You nod lightly and try to stay conscious. Your hands still shaky and your heartbeat fast.

Eventually Lando hears the door knock and he grabs the stuff from the delivery guy. And he rushes back to you. “Baby?- drink this.” He says stern and hands you the apple juice box.

You take it and sip some. He furrows his brows, not satisfied and still worried about you “more.”

You sip some more and he shakes his head with a soft “no- drink all of it.”

You sigh and do as he says, drinking it all and as soon as your done he hands you the other apple juice box.

“Babe- i can’t drink loads” you sigh

Lando shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair “you can.- drink as much as you can. I don’t want you to faint or anything”

You give in and drink another juice box, eating a bowl of banana slices as well.

Lando nods content and kisses your head “thank you, now next time. Tell me to make you something to eat okay? Don’t say ‘your too tired’”

You smile lightly and nod “I will..I love you.”

Lando smiles and kisses your nose “I love you more, now rest. please.” He says and sits down on the bed next to you as you lay down.

Max shakes his head amused “seriously? I’ve lost my bed again.”

Lando grins “sucks to suck.”

hihiiii carlos + 43 maybe? 😊

43. giving them a piggy-back ride

pairing: carlos sainz x friend!reader

DISCLAIMER: YOU ARE NOT A FAN OF HIKING.

It’s solid as a fact. Unmovable. Unchangeable. You simply cannot find the appeal of waking up in the crack ass of dawn to go on an uneven trail, only to reach the top, and then have to do it again. So, yeah, not a fan.

Carlos Sainz, however—childhood friend, sportsman, Formula One driver, annoying pain in the ass—is a fan of hiking.

And this wouldn’t normally be a problem. Carlos is an avid enjoyer of many things you don’t particularly have a fondness for, but it’s never been an issue. The problem here is that Carlos… he knows you too well. Because while you may not love hiking, he’s well-aware you do love taking pictures of pretty things.

Every time the two of you go out—regardless of whether it’s the city, the beach, the streets—he’s always stopping besides you, patiently waiting as you pull out your phone to snap a quick picture of whatever had caught your attention. Clouds, sunsets, birds on wires, pretty signs— you name it. Your phone’s storage is crying out for help.

And the truth is, you are weak. Because the pictures Carlos showed you of the view from the top were breathtaking. Truly, you caved way too easily.

(Beautiful sights and Carlos leaning close to you with those dumb, pretty, stupid doe eyes of his? It’s not like you’re made of ice.)

And while the sights awaiting you ahead were somewhat motivating, the climb certainly wasn’t.

“I hate you.”

Carlos chuckles. “No, you don’t.”

“No, I do. I really hate you.” You huff, feeling cold sweat between your shoulder blades. “Actually— no, I hate myself.”

Carlos rolls his eyes. “Stop being such a baby. You’ll get over it.”

“I’m dragging you to one of my dissertations next week— see if you love it as much.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“Ass.”

Carlos laughs, stepping over large roots that poke outside of the earth. He’s fast— why is he so fast?

“Watch your step.”

He gets a few paces ahead quickly, as if he’s doing it on purpose. Always so goddamn competitive. Your lips part to shoot something, but whatever you were gonna say dies on your tongue. You don’t mean to do it— it just happens. And before you can help it, your eyes are on Carlos’ ass.

Damn.

“Enjoying the view yet?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks. Your head snaps up. “Huh?”

“The view,” Carlos repeats, stopping as he turns to face you. You think you see the corner of a smirk on his lips. There’s mischief in his eyes that’s gone in a blink. “You can start to see the city from here.”

“Ah,” you manage, clearing your throat. “The city. Yeah.”

Carlos chuckles, shaking his head at you. “Come on,” he throws his head to the upcoming trail. “Only a little more to go.”

“Only a little,” you repeat under your breath. Your jaw twitches. “I’m Carlos Sainz, I’m so sporty and fit and I don’t even sweat,” you mutter in a high-pitched voice.

“What was that?” he calls from up ahead.

“I said you— SHIT!” you yelp, sneaker snagging on an overgrown root, sending you tumbling onto the dirt. You think you swallow a handful of twigs on your way down.

Great. Fantastic, actually.

“I told you to watch your step,” Carlos says helpfully.

“Okay, I’ve had about enough of you and your little—” You try to stand up, but pain shoots up your ankle. You promptly stay on the ground.

Carlos laughs, watching you slump onto the dirt. “Come on, bonita. You agreed we’d get to the end of the trail.”

You shake your head, rolling down your sock a little to get a better look. You grimace. “No, Carlos—fuck, I think I sprained my ankle.”

Carlos stares at you with a disbelieving look, mirth evident in his half smile. But then, the longer you stay on the ground, the faster his smile drops, and concern festers in its place.

“Ah, really?” He mutters a curse you don’t really catch. You hear him rush towards you before halting besides you. He kneels down, gesturing with his hand to bring your leg closer to him. “Okay, let me see.”

He presses the pads of his fingers onto your ankle, feeling around when his brows furrow. Whatever one-sided mischief he’d been enjoying earlier seems to be long gone. He gently presses against a sore spot, making you wince.

Carlos exhales. “Yeah, it’s definitely sprained. Come on.”

You watch as he turns his back to you, still crouching. You huff. “Carlos, I’m not getting on your back on a trail like this.”

“You are, because I don’t want you putting any more pressure on your ankle.”

You fold your arms over your chest. “Right, then you trip and we both end up injured? I don’t think so.”

He exhales loudly. “Preciosa,” he says, a warning in his tone.

You hate the warmth you feel in your gut whenever he calls you that. Bonita, preciosa, guapa. Even if it’s some dumb joke from when you were younger. Feeling flustered when your gorgeous friend calls you pretty as a nickname? Who’s gonna sue you, huh?

You shake your head. “I’m all sweaty and gross. You’re gonna drop me.”

His face twists as he looks at you over his shoulder. For a moment, he actually looks offended. “What? I am not gonna drop you.” You open your mouth to protest, but Carlos beats you to it, his jaw twitching. “Can you stop being stubborn for two minutes and just get on my back?”

“Fine. Moody.” You limp a little as you climb onto Carlos’ back. You breathe deeply as you place your legs around his buff torso, your arms around his neck.

“Hold on tight, okay? I don’t want you falling off,” he says quietly. You nod, even though he can’t see it. Carlos’ big hands curl around your thighs, and you have to swallow a squeak. You hold on to him a little tighter.

Carlos braces himself as he starts stepping down the trail. Your brows knit together. “Are we not reaching the top?”

“No.” There’s a finality to his voice, a sternness he so rarely uses with you. “We should get that ankle checked out as soon as possible. Make sure it’s nothing too serious,” Carlos says, tone indecipherable.

Your hand squeezes his shoulder, and Carlos tenses beneath you. “But—” You press your lips together. “It’s not that bad, I promise.”

He huffs, shaking his head. “You’re not even walking.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you decided to pick me up and throw me on top of you,” you retort, and you can feel heat crawling up Carlos’ neck.

His voice feels hoarser when he protests, “That’s not what I—”

“We came all this way already,” you interrupt. “I didn’t just break my leg to just see trees.”

“You didn’t break your leg,” Carlos says, rolling his eyes. You can hear a small smile forming on his lips.

“Exactly! Now, if you think you can carry me to through the last stretch…” you trail off. You’re tilting your head against his shoulder, feeling a breath that rumbles beneath his skin. Your hands around him tighten slightly. “I think I wanna see what the view looks like,” you murmur, a quiet admission.

Carlos stops his descend, as if weighing his options. You feel him swallow sharply.

You smile against his back, teasing. “Unless, of course, you think you can’t carry me all the way up and then down. Which, I mean, Carlos Sainz Jr, sportsman extraordinaire— Mr. I am amazing and competitive at every sport I—” You yelp as Carlos turns around sharply, making his way back up the trail.

“You told me you didn’t watch that interview,” he grumbles.

You grin. “I lied.”

You laugh into his shoulder as he mutters a string of words under his breath, fixing your arms around his neck. He adjusts his grip on your thighs, pushing you higher on his back.

“Joder. Las cosas que hago por ti.”

You bite down another laugh. You don’t know what gives you the confidence— maybe it’s the ridiculousness of the situation, the fact that Carlos’ thumb is unconsciously drawing small patterns on your leg, or the strange physical closeness. You’re still stifling your laugh when you lean into his ear and whisper, “You’re too easy.”

Carlos scoffs a laugh, a deep, rumbling sound beneath his skin. He turns his face near imperceptibly. Beautiful brown eyes glance at you with unbearable fondness. “Only for you.” He looks away just as quickly, and you pray to whatever god is up there that he can’t tell just how much those three words got to you.

“Let’s go get you that picture.”

a/n: yeah i’m sorry my biggest pet peeve in carlos fics is when spanish isn’t used appropriately (ESPECIALLY in terms of nicknames) so this is vindication :)

translations: bonita — pretty / preciosa — beautiful / guapa — gorgeous / joder. las cosas que hago por ti — fuck. the things i do for you.

THE ICEBREAKER| KIMI RÄIKKÖNEN

Pairing; Kimi Raikkonen x wife!reader

Summary; It never fails to amaze the formula one community just how much of a difference there is in Kimi’s attitude whenever his wife is around.

Warnings; Simply fluff.

F1 Master List

It was common knowledge in the world of formula one that Kimi 'the iceman' Raikkonen was everything that his nickname implied. He was blunt, hard faced and cold, straight to the point.

There's only a few instances where that guard drops; when he's drunk, caught off guard or sometimes when he's around Sebastian Vettel.

However, everyone knew that the ultimate Icebreaker was his wife.

It amazed everyone how quickly that icy facade melted whenever Kimi was around her, he was a completely different person, the paddock changed when she was around, Kimi was full of soft smiles and loving glances.

They were complete opposites, she was sunshine and spring, he was winter and icy winds but there had never been a pair more suited for each other.

Kimi wasn't due on track for another half an hour so him and Y/N had hidden themselves away on a bench at the far side of the garage. Kimi's back was rested against the wall, his wife sat between his legs, back resting against his chest. His arms were securely wrapped around her, his chin rested on her shoulder, eyeing the data he was holding in his hands.

Every now and then the Finnish man would nuzzle his head into her hair, inhaling the comforting smell of strawberries and a scent that was so uniquely her, followed by a soft kiss on her shoulder before returning back to his data.

Y/N relished in these small moments before races, even though they were surrounded by people running around it always felt like it was just them, alone in the world and they were perfectly content getting lost in each other's presence.

She closed her eyes, relaxing into the love of her life's embrace, she would never take these moments for granted, not when their lives were so hectic, it was relieving to live in a moment like this, to use it as a sort of pause button to take a small but needed break.

'...And there is the golden couple of the paddock, world champion Kimi Raikkonen and his wife, that man looks anything but what we know him as...'

She heard David Croft's voice filter through a nearby radio causing her eyes to open in confusion before she noticed a camera zooming into them from outside of the garage, sure enough they were on the big screen.

She smiled, lightly tapping Kimi's arm to get his attention, he turned his eyes from the papers in his hand to look at her. She pointed to the camera, Kimi looked in that direction, shaking his head with the smallest of smiles when he noticed the camera.

He knew what everyone said about him, how he was a different person when he was with her and they took every chance they could to capture him in a moment with his guard down. He didn't try and deny it because he knew they were right, sort of.

He wasn't a different person with her, he was himself with her, just a softer version of himself that he reserved for family and closest friends.

"Kulta" Kimi whispered 10 minutes later, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. "Hmm" she responded, eyes remaining closed, more than relaxed in his arms.

"It's time for me to get in the car" he mumbled into her ear, softly patting her thigh. She sighed but sat forward, standing up from the bench, stretching as she did.

Kimi groaned as he stood, folding the papers into his right hand, reaching out his left to grab hers, leading her over to his car where his engineer stood with his balaclava and helmet in hand. He handed the balaclava to Kimi and helmet to Y/N before walking away, giving them privacy.

Y/N watched as her husband got into his racing mode, his icy-blue eyes turned hard and determined, his body tensed up as he became more focused, strategies running through his mind.

She handed his helmet to him and once he had secured the straps under his chin she stepped closer to him, gently cupping the sides of his head and pressing a loving kiss on the hard material where his lips were covered.

Her hands ran down his arms before eventually reaching his hands that were covered in his gloves, she laced her fingers with his, her eyes never leaving his.

"Win for me" she told him "I love you so much" his eyes shined brighter at her words, his right hand rose to her cheek, his thumb brushed across her skin.

"I love you" she heard his muffled voice repeat back causing her to smile. He stroked her cheek one last time before lowering his hand, releasing her hand from his left and turning to his car.

Once he had climbed inside and checked his radio was working, he was ready to go. He looked towards where Y/N was standing and gave her a thumbs up before the mechanics wheeled him and his car out of the garage.

She walked back over to his side of the garage, sitting in front a screen that would be streaming the race.

There was no greater sight than watching the love of her life living his dream, his heart may beat for her but he was born to race. She had supported him up to this point and would continue to support him until the day he decides to let racing go, even then she would cheer him on in what he decides to do next.

my only sunshine — george russell

george russell x fem!reader [1.9k] summary: george feels like the whole world has come crashing down, but he luckily has you to pick him up. warnings: 18+ explicit smut & language, hurt & comfort a/n: i felt so so bad for george last night that i couldn't help but imagine how it'd be like to comfort him afterwards. i wasn't originally planning on writing smut but figured i'd throw it in there. anyway, hope you like this, lmk if you do!! <3

Silence. It’s all you’re in after the day has slid toward its end, the rumbling of the car providing you with the slightest comfort as you sit next to the man who’s given you so much. So much love, hope, inspiration and everything that you can’t seem to reciprocate at the moment because you can see that he’s dissociating, eyes staring off into the distance but it’s like he’s not looking. Just… seeing.

His hand in yours is warm, clammy, but he’s holding it tightly like he can’t seem to bear to let it go in fear of breaking down completely; Like your hold is the only thing tethering him to sanity. It makes your stomach twist and your heart ache with gruelling worry.

He mumbles hello’s and thank you’s as he guides the both of you through the lobby of the hotel, saying nothing as you press the elevator button. You can’t stop looking at him, wondering what he’s thinking but you know it can’t be anything good judging by his glassy eyes, red-rimmed with unshed tears.

George had been so close to podium, so close to getting that win he deserved and fought hard for. It had almost felt like reality slipped from your fingers as you watched his car lose control, taking him out of the race before any of you had time to blink. The garage had been in despair for your boyfriend and so had you, conflicted with Lewis’ win as he raced toward the finish line. Nothing has quite managed to break your heart as hearing your boyfriend’s voice over the radio, holding back tears for the sorrow he must’ve been feeling.

You stare at the tension in his back as he walks into the hotel room, shuffling through your thoughts and wondering whether you should speak or not. You know from experience that he’ll come to you eventually, and he will seek comfort in his own, wordless way but it doesn’t stop you from desperately wanting to reach out to him.

George turns when you drop your bags on the floor, giving you a slight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and you give one back.

“Go have a shower, I’ll order us something to eat.” You grab his hand in yours and watch as his fingers scramble to hold on, head nodding slowly. You press a kiss to his open palm. “Go.”

He goes without any preamble, leaving the door ajar and you walk around the room to redress into something comfier before calling for room service.

It’s a hot and stuffy night, but you welcome the slight breeze when you crack open the balcony doors and walk outside to take a look. It’s a gorgeous city filled with good memories, and you’d hate to think that tonight would taint them.

The sound of the shower running acts as background noise, and you get lost in your thoughts before the creak of the bathroom door pulls you out of them. You turn around and timidly walk inside, trying to tamper the sudden speed of your heart at the sight of your boyfriend walking across the room in his underwear; scrubbing his wet hair with a towel with way more aggression than necessary.

It’s the first sign he’d given you that he’s angry, ever since he first jumped out of his crashed car. He sniffles, the sound too loud in the silent room and you gingerly sit on the bed because you don’t know what to say to make it better.

You know that it’s something that he’ll eventually get over. Not completely, but the feeling of sadness and disappointment will dissipate with time. Right now, he just needs to lick his wounds.

He flings the towel in the direction of the sofa, missing it completely and it falls with a thump on the floor but you don’t focus on it for too long, watching George as he finally meets your eyes.

He’s been crying.

George’s eyes are red, watery and it makes your heart clench fiercely as you stretch your arms out for him to fall into. He doesn’t say a word as he lets you hold him, the shaking of his shoulders a clear indication that he’s finally broken down.

“You’re okay.” You whisper into his wet hair, holding his head so delicately as you fight your own tears off.

He doesn’t say anything as he cries and you don’t even know what you whisper to him, but it seems to work because his sniffling eventually fades off. You stroke his wet hair and kiss his head, pulling him in closer to you, like it’s possible to be any closer than you already are.

“I fucking had it.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it.

But it’s there, and he sounds angry with himself.

“I know.” It’s all you can say, knowing that there’s nothing else that can help him.

“I just had to go fuck it all up.”

You tighten your grip on him, guiding his head from your chest to look at his face. It’s heartbreaking to see the dried streaks on his cheeks, long eyelashes clumped together from the tears but he looks as beautiful as ever.

“You didn’t fuck anything up.” Your voice is firm, thick with emotion but you power through. “Shit happens, you can never predict the outcome of these races and you know it better than anyone. It was a long race, and you did your best. That’s all you can ask of yourself.”

He shakes his head.

“I should’ve done better.” His eyes fill with tears again, eyebrows scrunching up in anguish. “I could’ve done better.”

“Maybe so.” You brushed a thumb under his eye. “But you did your best at that moment, baby. It’s a tough track.”

He made a noise of dissent and you leaned forward to press a kiss to his warm cheek, keeping your lips there. The way he subconsciously leaned into it made your chest tighten in adoration.

“You’ll always be amazing to me, Georgie.” You whispered against his skin. “I don’t know if that counts for something, but it’s the truth.”

He turned his head so your lips caught the corner of his, making you smile.

“It means the world, and you know it.” He said, squeezing your hip. “I love you.”

“I love you.” You waited until he turned his head fully, accepting the kiss that he was quick to press to your mouth.

It was like a switch had been flipped the moment your lips opened up to each other, George placing both hands on either side of you so he could guide you up the bed until he was looming above you. You sucked in a well needed breath when he trailed his lips down, kissing and sucking your jaw and throat in urgency.

“George…” The sound of his name from your lips made him stop and glance up, eyes trained on you. “Are you sure you wanna do this now?”

His answer came in the form of a kiss that stole the breath from your lungs, your legs caging his hips in and bringing your crotches together. The shudder that he let out was like music to your ears, low and heavy. Almost like some weight had been lifted off his shoulder and just that alone made you want to do more, to distract him from tonights loss and show him how great he was.

“Nothing I want more.” He murmured against your lips, fingers slipping into your joggers and underwear, slicking up his digits.

A shudder left your lips, hands gripping his shoulders and spreading your legs wider for him to properly settle between as he slowly fingered you. It was quick, thumb circling your clit just the way he knew you liked until you were coming apart under him.

He loved on your lower lip as you cried out your orgasm, eyes trained on your face because he just couldn't look away from how pretty you looked. It made him physically hurt how much love he had for you, how grateful he was that you managed to pick him up so easily when all he wanted to do was close in on himself.

No one had ever managed to simultaneously fill him up with so much love and inspiration like you did, and the adoration he felt for you in that moment felt like too much to bear. So, he hurried his movements when he felt you starting to shudder from overstimulation, reaching down to push his underwear far enough to get himself out of the confines.

"George, please." Your pleas made his hands shake as he slid the length of his cock up your pussy, wetting it in the process and hearing you moan. "Please, just hurry up and fuck me."

He didn't need to be told twice, notching himself by your hole and glancing up at you; waiting for your nod of consent before he pushed himself inside. The both of you moaned in unison, George's mouth dropping open at the combined feeling on your tightness and wetness, the warmth enveloping his cock as you reached your hands up to grab at his damp hair.

"Oh, fuck." He bottomed out, arms shaking to keep himself hovering over you. "Fuck, you feel good."

You pushed your chin out and George almost smiled at the gesture, knowing what you wanted without you having to verbally tell him. He got down on his elbows instead, caging your head in before he leaned down and licked into your mouth.

His thrusts were jerky, like he couldn't focus on one thing and you really couldn't blame him. It was clear that he needed the release and you desperately wanted to give it to him, clenching around him and hearing him moan against your ear; voice hoarse and broken.

It wasn't long before he was burying his face in your neck, hips working into you harshly before he grunted and buried himself to the hilt. George came with a bitten moan, shuddering as he shot off inside of you and it made you tighten up weakly, prompting another sound from his mouth.

The both of you laid wrapped up in each other, listening to each other's breathing and the silence dragged out for so long that you'd almost expected George to have fallen asleep. But then he made a noise in his throat and picked his head up from your chest to peer up at you.

He looked more relaxed than before, but there was still a sadness in his eyes that nothing but time could wipe away. You picked up a shaky hand to brush a finger under his eyes, watching his long eyelashes flutter at the touch.

"Japan will be yours." You said in a whisper, like it was a secret and it made George smile sadly.

"Don't hold your breath." He said it so self-depracatingly that you shook your head in a stubborn manner.

"I'll hold my breath, Russell. Better yet, I'll be right there to scream the loudest for you."

That prompted a laugh out of him, pushing into your hand when you swept his bangs out of the way.

"Thank you." He murmured and your face softened at the sincerity in his voice. "I don't know how you manage to do it, but you always make my losses hurt less."

"I'll always be here, you know that."

He nodded because yeah, you always were and you had never proved him wrong. It made something spark in his chest, something that felt a lot like hope and determination for the next weekend.

He'd bring the win home. If not for himself, then for you.

butterflies

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: After a tough triple header, Lando’s feeling the pressure, and you’re there to offer him comfort. As he opens up about his struggles, a surprising confession slips out.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: swearing, mental health

The triple header was finally over. But it had chewed Lando up and spat him out along the way.

Three weekends. Three countries — Japan, Bahrain, Saudi Arabia — each one stacking exhaustion, frustration, and pressure on his shoulders like invisible weights he couldn’t shake off.

It had started so well. Pole position. A first win of the season. A lead in the championship standings. For a brief, brilliant moment, it felt like everything was falling into place.

And then, almost overnight, it began to unravel.

A costly mistake during qualifying. A crash in Saudi that left him stranded in P10 on the grid. Every misstep gnawed at him, louder and sharper than any of the praise that followed.

His team, his fans, his family, they all tried to reassure him. Finishing P4 from a backfoot start was an incredible recovery. They told him they were proud. They told him to hold his head high.

But Lando being Lando, he carried the weight of every mistake like a scar carved into his chest.

Everyone saw it, the way each race seemed to pull him a little further away from himself. The slump of his shoulders, the blankness in his gaze when he thought no one was looking. When he scrolled through his phone late at night, the hateful comments and cruel jokes flashing across his screen, dissecting him, mocking him, criticizing every tiny misstep like he wasn’t even human.

Hours after the Saudi race, the four of you — Max, P, Lando, and you — ended up crashing in Lando’s hotel room, ordering a late dinner to fill the silence no one really wanted to break.

Lando was half-sprawled across the sofa, lazily scrolling through his phone. His leg bounced restlessly up and down, his other hand busy chewing at the edge of his thumb, a nervous habit he never quite managed to shake. You watched him from your spot across the sofa, feeling the unease bleeding off of him in waves.

Max and P had disappeared to pick up the food, leaving just you and Lando behind in the low hum of the AC in the hotel room.

You sighed, placing your phone down in your lap.

“You wanna talk about it?” you asked gently.

Lando glanced up, almost like he hadn’t realized he wasn’t alone. His leg kept bouncing, hand slowly dropping from his mouth. “Hm?” he mumbled.

“You want to talk about it?” you repeated, shifting forward so you were properly facing him. “Whatever’s been bothering you.”

He cleared his throat, mirroring your movement like it gave him something to do. “I’m good,” he said, a little too quickly.

You didn’t buy it for a second.

“You’re clearly not, Lan,” you said, frowning. “When’s the last time you had proper sleep? No offense, but... you look like shit.”

He actually chuckled at that, a low, rough sound. Five years of friendship meant he expected nothing less than brutal honesty from you.

“I’m fine, Y/N. You worry too much.”

“Because I care,” you shot back, voice softer now. “You’re too hard on yourself, you know that? You’re doing a great job—"

“—I’m not,” he interrupted sharply, voice cracking just slightly. His hands scrubbed roughly over his face. “I’m not. And I should be. Everyone expects better from me, and I can’t fucking deliver.”

The words spilled out fast, like he couldn’t hold them in any longer.

You felt your chest tighten at the way he said it, like it wasn’t frustration talking. It was something deeper. Defeat.

Quietly, closing the gap, sitting closer to him without a word. You didn’t try to tell him he was wrong. You didn’t start listing achievements or statistics he already knew by heart. Instead, you leaned your shoulder against his, solid and steady.

“You’re allowed to have bad days, Lan,” you said simply. “One race doesn’t erase who you are. What you’ve built. You’re not just... results on a page.”

He didn’t respond immediately. His leg stilled. His phone slipped from his hand onto the cushion.

For the first time all night, he let himself lean into you, just a little. Just enough. Head ever so gently resting on your shoulder

And for now, you took that as a win.

You sighed, letting your head rest lightly against his, your fingers finding his hand and tracing slow, soothing circles across the back of it. "It’s only been... what? Five races?" you said quietly. "You’ve got so much more ahead of you, Lan."

He let out a bitter laugh, low and tight in his chest. "It’s only been five, and I’ve already fucked up every single one," he muttered. "If I haven’t ruined the whole race, I’ve made at least one critical mistake every damn time."

"You’re not perfect, Lan," you said, squeezing his hand a little tighter, grounding him.

He shook his head against you, the words tumbling out faster now, rough around the edges. "Oscar’s not making mistakes like I am. And Max — everyone keeps saying he shouldn't be that fast in the Red Bull, but he is. He's that good. And me—" He broke off, swallowing hard.

"You’re not Oscar," you said firmly.

"You’re not Max... you’re not Lewis either. You’re Lando. And that’s more than enough."

You pull away slightly, shifting so you’re fully facing him, needing him to see that you mean every word. "It breaks my heart to see you like this," you say quietly, your voice thick with feeling. "Doubting yourself. Look how far you’ve come, Lan. You should be proud."

He offers a small, tired smile, nodding once. "I know..." he murmurs. "It’s just— sometimes it gets too much, you know? I knew what I was signing up for, but... that doesn’t mean the comments, the criticism, all the shit people say... it doesn’t mean it doesn’t get to me. I wish I didn't care so much about what others thought about me"

Your heart twists painfully in your chest. Without thinking, you squeeze his hand again, anchoring him. "Then you wouldn't be you anymore...and we know you’re worth more than anything they have to say," you say, shrugging like it’s the simplest truth in the world. "I want you to be world champion, Lan. I want you to chase every dream you’ve ever had. But if it means losing yourself in the process..."

You shake your head, voice turning fierce with emotion. "If it means losing the Lando I know and love? Fuck the championship."

"Yeah?" His head snaps toward you, a smirk pulling at his lips, one eyebrow raised slightly.

"You love me?"

You roll your eyes, suddenly finding your nails very interesting, anything to distract from the heat creeping up your neck. "Out of everything I just said, that’s what you choose to focus on?"

He laughs, a real one this time, soft and a little mischievous, and nudges his knee against yours. "I love you too, you muppet."

He sighs, settling back against your shoulder like it’s the only place he wants to be. "Having you here with me... it helps," he says quietly.

"I hope you know that. You make everything easier."

You smile, warmth blooming in your chest, and press a soft kiss to the top of his head before resting yours against his again. "Mind saying that again?" you tease, voice light. "Maybe once Max gets back... just so he can hear who your favourite friend really is?"

Lando laughs, and it’s music to your ears, its bright, real, almost like you could see the weight slowly lifting off his chest. "Oh, trust me," he says, nudging you. "He knows he lost to you a long time ago. He doesn’t give me butterflies in my tummy like you do."

You chuckle, a surprised laugh slipping out. "I give you butterflies?"

"Oh, shut up..." Lando muttered, letting out a soft yawn as he nuzzled closer to you, his face buried in your shoulder. "Sometimes I feel like you rile me up on purpose."

"Hey, I do not!" you protested, slapping his leg.

"Ow!" Lando dodged, laughing through the pain. "Alright, fine. Maybe it’s just my tiny crush on you talking."

You smirked, teasing him. "You have a crush on me? How old are you, ten?"

Lando shot you a playful look. "How old are you, ten?" he mocked, sticking out his tongue. "I’ve liked you for a while now, you knob."

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. What the hell? Was he serious, or was he just messing with you? You sat there, stiff and dumbfounded, unsure of what to make of it.

"You're just tired. Sleep it off," you said, trying to brush it off, though your mind was spinning.

"I’m fucking exhausted," he yawned again, his eyes already fluttering closed. "But it doesn’t make me a liar." He shifted slightly, his voice softer now.

"You can even ask Max when he comes back."

Silence.

You couldn’t think of anything to say. Your mind raced with a thousand different scenarios, trying to figure out if he was joking or if there was something real in his words. Surely, he was just messing with you, right?

"Since when?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

No response. Just the hum of the AC and Lando’s steady breathing. As much as you wanted to wake him up and demand answers, you knew he needed the rest more than you needed clarity.

You stayed still, afraid to disturb him. Just enough movement to pick up your phone and scroll through your feed, passing the time as you waited for Max and P.

Lando's head was now resting gently on your lap, his legs curled up in a relaxed position, peacefully asleep. Not long later, Max and P arrived, chatting softly as they entered the room.

As soon as they were both in view, you held a finger to your lips, signaling them to keep quiet. P smiled, nodding, and walked over to the kitchen to grab some utensils. Max, however, made his way over to you with the bags of food in hand.

"Finally got him to sleep, huh?" Max said with a grin.

You nodded, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Took a while, but he's resting."

Max took the opportunity to pull his phone out of his pocket, immediately snapping photos of you and Lando.

You quickly grabbed the throw pillow beside you and tossed it at him.

He dodged it with ease, raising his hands in surrender. "He’d want photos," he said, the smirk never leaving his face.

He’d want photos? Now you were even more confused.

You cleared your throat, trying to brush off the confusion as you gathered your thoughts. "He... uh... he said something to me before he nodded off."

Max’s attention was fully on the food now as he unpacked the containers, "Yeah?"

You took a deep breath, still unsure of how to approach it. "He told me he had a crush on me..." you said with a nervous chuckle.

Max didn’t even flinch. He continued unpacking, casually licking the sauce off his finger, "Oh, you really didn’t know?"

You frowned, your confusion deepening. "What do you mean?"

Max shrugged, clearly not fazed. "I've always assumed you noticed it by now... or that P had told you a while back." He casually shrugged again, tossing the food containers onto the counter. "Thought you were just pretending you didn’t know until he actually confessed."

No fucking way. After all these years of keeping your feelings to yourself, to find out this man — the one napping on your lap right now — likes you too?

"You're fucking with me," you laugh in disbelief. "Since when?"

Max scoffs, clearly amused. "Since months after you two first met?"

"I'll help P out, I’ll grab some ice too," he adds, before heading off into the kitchen.

You stay frozen, your mind racing, still trying to process the whirlwind of emotions.

"Believe me now?"

Lando’s voice pulls you from your trance. You glance down, finding him looking up at you with sleepy, half-lidded eyes and a cheeky grin tugging at his lips.

You roll your eyes, reaching down to pinch his cheek. "You’re so annoying."

"Secrets out..." Lando chuckles, sitting up and stretching. "Gotta take you out on a proper date now."

"I’d love that, actually." You smile softly, feeling a warmth spread through you. Without thinking, you offer him the box of spring rolls.

Lando reaches for a spring roll, popping it into his mouth with a relaxed smile.

"This is good," he says, rubbing his tummy in satisfaction. "Gotta keep the butterflies fed."

Heat [Lando Norris x reader]

description: You almost pass out in the heat, but Lando helps you out.

It was a brutally hot race weekend. You weren’t used to this kind of heat. Besides, you were on your period, and the combination of these two made it difficult to eat a proper breakfast or lunch. You had no appetite, and you weren’t even feeling quite right all day.

Still, you knew Lando had it way worse. He was the one racing. The least you could do was not to complain. You didn’t even tell anyone how strange you felt, not wanting to make a fuss while your boyfriend had to sit in a burning hot car and drive.

You took a walk in the paddock with Lando’s best friend, Max Fewtrell. He also complained about the heat, but now he seemed fine, chugging a bottle of cold water and chilling in an air-conditioned room, waiting for the race to start. The two of you were chatting for a while, but now he was editing something on his phone, so you decided to scroll through social media to pass the time.

No, you weren’t feeling well. Everything started to blur a bit around the edges. Your vision dimmed for a second, and you could hear your heart drumming in your ears. You placed the phone on the table you were sitting at and buried your face into your palms, taking a few deep breaths.

 “Hey, Y/N, are you okay?” You felt someone touching your shoulder. Your brain felt foggy, but you had a vague guess that it was Max. You didn’t have the energy to reply.

 Your lack of response worried Max. “Uhm, do you want to grab a bottle of water from the cafeteria or something? You are so pale.”

 “I’m not sure,” you mumbled, your voice sounding foreign to your ears.

 “What do you mean? Come on, let’s go get something to drink. We have like twenty minutes before the race starts,” Max answered, and he grabbed your arms to help you up. He didn’t want to leave you unattended in a state like this. However, you lost your balance, so Max lowered you back on the barstool before the two of you would draw unwanted attention. “Come on, Y/N, Lando is going to kill me if you pass out on me,” he mumbled nervously.

That was when Lando decided to check on the two of you in the five spare minutes he got. When he spotted you in the corner of the room, he quickly realized that something was wrong. He walked over to the two of you. “Everything okay over here?” he asked, eyeing you with a mix of worry and confusion.

 “I don’t think so, mate,” Max answered, biting his lips. “I wanted to take her to the cafeteria, but I’m not sure she can walk- Or something.”

Lando saw how pale you were. Then he noticed that your hands were shaking slightly. His heart sank in his chest. It wasn’t the first time that you started feeling off at the beginning of your period, and the heat wasn’t helping you either. He wondered how much you ate all day.

He pulled out the barstool beside you and sat down, placing a comforting hand on your back. “Max, can you get her a bottle of water and a granola bar or something like that?” he asked, not taking his eyes off you for a second. He took your hand, his finger hovering over your wrist to feel your pulse.

Max sighed in relief as Lando finally took over the situation. He nodded and rushed off.

Lando gently squeezed your hand. “Come on, you’ll be alright,” he muttered softly. “Max will be here with something for you soon, alright?”

You heard his words, but you couldn’t register what he was saying. Lando hugged you to prevent you from falling off the barstool, and you leaned against his chest. He held you close and kissed your forehead. He tried to ignore the fact that you were in a public space, and there were probably plenty of eyes, maybe even cameras, watching the two of you.

You felt limp in his arms. He knew you were conscious, but he wasn’t sure how long you would be. He smoothed the hair out of your face. “Come on, you silly little thing,” he spoke gently. “Don’t pass out on me like this.”

Max was back in a couple of minutes, and he handed over everything to Lando. Your boyfriend took the water immediately, and he opened the bottle while still hugging you close to his chest. Then he placed the bottle to your mouth and tipped it lightly.

 “Just drink a little bit, okay? Small sips…” he said after realizing that you didn’t respond. As you felt the cool water on your mouth, you finally swallowed. Lando sighed in relief. For a second, he was sure you would pass out right there in his arms.

After you drank a few sips, the colour finally started to return to your face. Your vision slowly cleared up, and you realized you were leaning against Lando, so you pulled away. He was there, sitting next to you, his suit halfway zipped, watching you intently. He handed you the water bottle, seeing that now you were able to sit up somewhat straight.

 “Hey there,” he smiled a little as he reached out to rub your back. “You scared me for a second.”

That was the point when Lando’s engineer decided to find him personally when he didn’t return after the promised five minutes. “Man, everyone is looking for you,” he frowned at Lando.

 “I know, I’m sorry, mate. Y/N was a little unwell, I couldn’t leave her like that,” Lando turned away to answer.

Your cheeks heated up now that you were in the centre of attention.

Lando’s engineer didn’t seem convinced by your pale expression. “Does she need medical attention?”

 “I don’t think so,” Lando shook his head, and then he focused back on you. He opened the granola bar and placed it between your fingers. “Take a few bites. Do you think you’ll be able to get back on your feet?”

 “Why?” you frowned, confused. You had no intention to go anywhere.

 “I need to get back to work. Will you be fine with Max?” he asked. He didn’t want to leave you yet, but he knew staying wasn’t an option when the race was just about to start.

You nodded.

 “Good. Just eat your snack, drink the water, and stay in here. I’ll get you after I’m done.” He patted your knee and stood up. He took one last look at you before he hurried away.

You sighed as you watched him get in the car. You knew he was trained to deal with the heat, yet you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. It wasn’t the first time you managed to almost pass out while he was doing perfectly fine.

You took a bite of the granola bar he handed you and watched him go.

oscar w a feral!gf who fully believes that she could fight a kangaroo. idk, it's kind of a shit prompt but just a lil something

-🌠

don't know what the fuck this became but enjoy! thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“You sure you’ve got her?”

“ I'll be fine.” 

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ve got—wait, baby, no—” 

You burst into a fit of giggles as you felt Oscar’s arms wind around your waist, pulling you back into his chest before you could get far. You leaned back into his embrace, tilting your head back until you were practically looking up at him upside down—a sight that only made you giggle even more.

Your friend raised her brows, looking at Oscar with a doubtful look. “Are you absolutely sure?” 

He gave her a tight-lipped smile as he held you up, but something in his chest eased a little at how concerned your friend was. It was reassuring, in some odd way. It was nice to know you had a good support group when he was half-way across the globe, wishing he was beside you. 

“I can handle her,” he said, almost sounding amused when you let out a scoff. 

“I don’t need help! I am so fine on my own,” you commented, attempting to step away from him to prove a point but the stumble in your legs had him clinging onto you. “I could, like, totally fight a kangaroo right now.”

Oscar pressed his lips together to bite back his smile. “A kangaroo?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded confidently before gasping, looking at your boyfriend with wide eyes. “Oh my god, you’re basically a kangaroo.” 

“Jesus, you drank a lot,” Oscar murmured as he waved your friend goodbye, watching her head back inside to the bar he had just driven to to pick you up before he began guiding you towards his car.

“I could fight you!” You said, sounding far too happy about the prospect of it. “I have a mean right hooker!”

“Hook,” he corrected with a fond smile. “Do you even know what that means?”

“Of course not,” you said before bursting into another fit of giggles, practically sinking back into his embrace and giving him your full body weight. 

To his credit, Oscar hardly even faltered. Instead, his arms remained locked around you as he practically carried you towards the passenger seat of his car. He continued to let you ramble away, knowing that at some point you would tire yourself out and the sleepier side of your drunk self would come out. 

“Do I annoy you?” 

Oscar’s head snapped around to you so quickly, it was almost comical. Luckily, the car had been parked at a red light, but that didn’t stop the uncomfortable twist in his stomach when the question passed your lips.

“What?” He frowned as he watched you lazily blink at him, almost as though you were waiting for him to say yes. “Baby, I—” He paused, shaking his head. “No, of course not.”

“Okay,” you said, giving him a small smile. “I don’t think you’re annoying either.”

But the light-hearted teasing didn’t shift his attention away from the heavy question. “Why would you ever think you annoyed me?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, unable to fight the yawn leaving your lips as you leaned further back in your seat once the lights went green and Oscar began driving again. “Just heard some people mentioning something.”

Oscar frowned. “Who?” 

But you just shrugged again.

And maybe somewhere in your drunk and fuzzy brain, you knew not only would it be embarrassing to say out loud, but also that Oscar would be upset by it. He didn’t get angry, not when it came to himself. He was fairly laid-back, he let things mostly wash over him before moving on with his life. 

But when it came to the people he loved? When it came to you? It was a whole different story.

You knew that it would upset him that somebody upset you, that their words affected you enough to play on your insecurities and doubts. It would upset him to hear someone bashing you in such a cowardly way, mocking the way you acted and how loud your personality was. It would upset him to hear the way they thought you were too much for him, not good enough for him. 

People like you weren’t right for people like Oscar. 

“Baby,” he said in a soft voice after you had fallen quiet. He watched as you blinked, glancing around and seeming to realise you were now parked outside his place. “Look at me.” 

You turned your head, your eyes meeting his and something eased in your chest. 

He reached towards you, his hand engulfing your cheek as you leaned into his touch. He watched you for a moment before leaning over the console, pressing a soft and chaste kiss on your lips before he spoke. “I don’t know what happened but you could never annoy me.”

You blinked, your hand reaching out to hold his wrist like you were scared he would pull away. “Promise?” 

“Promise,” he said with a nod before smiling at you, that full lip smile that made your heart stutter a little. “C’mon now, need to get my pretty girl ready for bed.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes even if the idea of your boyfriend doting over you warmed your heart. “M’tired,” you grumbled as you watched Oscar reach for the door. “Let’s just go to bed.”

“Nuh uh, gotta take your makeup off, baby,” he said with a shake of his head, smiling a little when you let out a whine. “I promise I’ll do all the work.”

Your smile brightened. “Have I mentioned that I love you?” 

“Yeah, once or twice,” he grinned back at you. “I love you too.”

“Of course you do.” 

Oscar sighed. “Had to ruin the moment, didn’t you?”

“Just pointing out the facts, my kangaroo boy.”

His nose scrunched up. “Please do not let that become a thing.”

You could only laugh in response.

.

“shielding the other one with their body” with max and fem teammate reader please !

thank you so much for requesting! <3

max verstappen x teammate!reader, 2k. mentions of an on track crash + injury, christian horner mention (gross, i know), light swearing. request something from here!

The crash is a blur in your mind. You remember fighting your way through the traffic, getting your front wheels past that stubborn Aston Martin. You remember spinning out. You remember the impact. The pain. 

The how and why is lost to you, and the next thing you know, you’re waking up in a hospital bed, wires and cables protruding from your body connected to steadily beeping machines beside you.

Max sits slumped over in the chair next to your bed, fireproofs still on, chin tilted down towards his chest as he sleeps soundly. 

“Max,” You call. Your voice feels gravelly, like it's getting stuck in your chest. No reply. You clear your throat, try again. “Max.” 

His eyes fly open. He looks around wildly, first at the machines as if he's checking out your vitals, before landing on you. “Hey! Hey, you,” He says, straightening up in his seat. “Welcome back. How’re you feeling?” 

You shrug, wincing at the pain that slices through your midriff. “Like I just got hit by a car.”

“Well, you’re not exactly wrong.” A tic in his jaw goes off, blue eyes flashing with simmering anger. 

“What happened?” 

“You got hit. Fucking Stroll. You were ahead at the apex and he still went for it. Sent you rolling into the barriers.” 

You don’t remember rolling, but other pieces are starting to come back to you. Fighting the car, having to swerve to avoid others. Your race engineer sounding panicked in your helmet.

God, you can only imagine how it looked from the outside. 

You grit your teeth, swallowing the lump in your throat. “What’s the damage?” 

“Two broken ribs is the worst of it. Some bumps and bruises from impact, but—” 

“And the car?” 

Max scoffs, shaking his head. “I think the car is the very least of your worries right now.” 

“The car, Max,” You push. His lips set into a thin line, but he takes your insistence in stride. 

“Wrecked.” 

“Fuck!” You snap, squeezing your eyes shut. 

That’s the last thing you need right now, a broken car. You can only imagine the amount of work and long hours the team has ahead of them trying to piece it back together before the next race. All because of you. 

“Did you not hear the part about your broken ribs?” Max asks. “The car doesn't matter if you can't drive it.” 

You’re not even sure you want to hear the answer, but you ask anyway. “How long?” 

“Four, five weeks. Maybe six if you're stubborn.” 

“Good thing I’m not.” 

“You’re well enough to joke around, that’s nice to see.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” You roll your eyes at Max and he cracks a small grin. “What position did you finish?” 

“I really don't think that matters right now,” He says. You look at him pointedly, and he sighs again. “P2.” 

“Max, that's great!” You exclaim. Then you take in his very dry appearance. P2 means podium, podium means champagne. No champagne means— “Max. Max, you did not. Tell me you didn't.” 

“Okay, I won’t tell you.” 

“Did you seriously skip out on the podium ceremony for me?”

“Yeah, I did.” He shrugs nonchalantly, like he’d only just missed an appointment instead of the ceremony. 

“You’ll be fined for that, you know,” You chide, clicking your tongue. “You might even get suspended given your track record with the FIA, did you even think about that?” 

How could he do something irresponsible? There's a championship at stake, and he goes off and does something like this. The FIA won't be happy for sure.

But then again, they’re never happy with Max. 

“I don't care. I don’t care what they do to me, because nothing else mattered more than seeing if you were okay.” 

Oh. 

He did it for you. Any irritation at him throwing championship points down the drain like that melts away. 

“Come here,” You sigh, scooting over in your bed to make space for him. Max obliges instantly, sliding in as gently as he can, accepting how you tuck yourself closer to him. You kiss his cheek gratefully. “Thank you.” 

“You really scared me there for a second,” He mutters into your hairline. “They wouldn't tell me anything.” For a moment, his voice wavers. That’s how you know Max had chosen not to tell you every detail of the crash. 

If you were feeling a hundred percent, you’d pester him until he did, but you’ll settle for snuggling a little deeper into him. For his peace of mind and yours. 

“I’m fine, Max.” 

“You must not have heard me say you have two broken ribs.” 

“That’s nothing. Didn’t Oscar get his first win with a broken rib?” 

His thumb freezes in its mindless stroking over the inside of your wrist. “Do not joke about that.” 

“Fine, I’ll stop. Can you give me a rundown of the rest of the race, at least?” 

“Of course you want to focus on work right now. You know you can relax, right?” 

“I’ll relax once I’m dead.” 

“Hopefully that won't be anytime soon.” 

He ends up going through the whole race in surprising detail. As if he’d had the time and focus to commit everything going on around him to memory like he wasn't racing down straights and whipping around corners. 

You love to watch Max as he explains things. His mannerisms, his expressions, the way his eyes light up when he gets to a good part. It makes for always captivating conversations all the time, never boring. You quite like it that way. 

“Hold on, pause,” You interrupt. He suddenly looks alarmed, even more so when you start to inch away from him towards the other side of the bed. 

“What? What’s wrong?” 

“I think I have to pee.” 

“Fuck, I thought something was wrong. Don’t scare me like that!” 

As soon as your feet hit the floor, a bolt of pain flares through your body that makes the whole world seem to tilt under you. Max is by your side in a flash, steadying you with an arm around your waist. 

“Take it easy, schatje,” He says, almost pleading. “Please don’t move that fast.” 

“I wanna go home,” You grumble, defeated. 

“I know. Soon, I promise.” 

A doctor comes by a little while later to inform you about next steps and your limitations as you heal. It’s nothing you haven't heard before—rest, take it easy, don't push yourself. Nothing too strenuous on your body. 

Safe to say, racing is definitely off the table during that time. 

Max listens more intently than you do, taking in everything they say with rapt attention. He’s already designated himself as your caregiver for the entirety of your recovery time. 

Or, he’ll try, at least. Unlike yourself, he still has a job to do. Races to win. They’ll bring up a reserve driver for the ones you miss, and he probably won’t be too happy about it. A lot of people won’t be too happy about it, but there’s nothing you can do. 

Much to your relief, you’re discharged a few hours later. All you want to do is go home and sleep in your own bed, but you know the flight there will be nothing but work calls and video chats, establishing a timeline for your return and figuring out what kind of statement to put out on all Red Bull socials, among other things. 

You know that with every person concerned with your wellbeing, there’s two more praying on your downfall. It’s just the way things are when it comes to situations like these. 

“All set?” Max’s quiet voice pulls you out of your thoughts. 

He’d changed out of his race suit, looking comfier and cozier in some joggers and a team hoodie that someone from Red Bull had brought by while you were asleep. 

They’d brought you some clothes too, whatever had been in your driver’s room before the race. It feels much better than the hospital gown with an open back you’d previously had, that you’d nearly flashed Max your entire backside in when you got out of bed. 

The soft smile gracing his face is nothing short of reassuring, as is his tone. He can tell you're starting to get a little nervous. 

He holds out his hand for you to take and you do, intertwining your fingers together comfortingly. The quick kiss he presses to the side of your head also helps as you make your way down the sterile looking white hallway. 

The scene in the lobby when you step out of the elevator somehow still takes you by surprise even though part of you had already known it was inevitable.

Dozens of reporters, countless paparazzi, all with their phones and cameras out towards you, all clamoring for your attention. The flashing makes you see stars, remnants visible even when you squeeze your eyes shut to block it all out for a moment. 

You should be used to this by now. It’s something you deal with every single day, but this time seems different. You feel vulnerable, under the lens of a microscope while you struggle to hide what really happened in the crash. 

“Max,” You breathe, tugging at his hand. He stops in his tracks. The fear in your eyes must be evident, because he puts his back towards them, blocking their view of you just long enough so you can gather enough courage to brave the crowd. 

“We’ll leave when you’re ready,” He says. “Take your time.” 

You inhale a deep breath, fingers tightening around his to ground yourself. “Okay,” You say. “Okay, let’s go.” 

Head down, eyes focused on putting one foot in front of the other, you step outside. Max still keeps himself between you and the paparazzi as you make your way to the car idling at the curb, a guiding hand at the small of your back while the other protects your face from any cameras being stuck in it. 

He’s always been a tad protective when it comes to you, no matter how much you tell him you can take care of yourself just fine. It’s times like these when you’re glad he doesn’t listen to you on some things. 

He makes himself your shield until he can use the car door as one, helping you into the backseat gently but quickly. You suspect he might want to throw up a certain finger at the paparazzi, but he won’t. 

“That never gets any easier,” You chuckle breathlessly. Max, ever the vigilant one, gives you a once over to make sure you’re all squared away. “I’m good, Max, I promise. I would tell you if something was wrong.” 

He smiles sheepishly, dragging a hand through his already messy hair. “I know you would. I’m just checking.” 

Max’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and not for the first time since he’s been with you. More like the fifth or sixth. He digs it out, not to answer it or even check who it is, just to send them to voicemail before putting it away again. 

You don’t miss the furrow between his brows, or the frown that turns his lips for a split second. 

“It must be important if whoever that is keeps trying to call you,” You say softly. Max just shrugs. “It’s Christian, isn’t it?” 

“He can wait.” 

“Turning down multiple calls from the boss isn’t a good look, Max. We both know that.” 

“Yeah, well, then he can fire me.” 

“What, and lose the one bright shining star Red Bull has?” You snort. You mean it as a joke, but Max doesn’t seem to think so. 

“You need to give yourself more credit, liefje. You’re a great driver.” 

“Literally everyone else begs to differ. You wouldn’t have crashed like I did.” It’s a snippy remark, you’re aware of the fact. The frustration is starting to catch up with you now. 

“Who gives a fuck about what other people say? You never have, so don’t start now,” Max says, looking entirely serious. “Take this time to recover and come back even stronger, more prepared, and hungry for more wins. Be the unstoppable force I know you are.”

“I’d kiss you if it didn’t hurt to move right now.” 

The corner of his mouth quirks up into a grin. “You’ll have plenty of opportunity to kiss me later, don’t worry.”

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new fic :)

At Fault | MV1

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: Max invites his ex to a gp and upsets you. Soft and stubborn Max, but he’s a cutie. A mix between angst and fluff, but mostly fluff towards the end. Lots of reader just ranting. Plus a little cameo from the Ferrari WAGs <3.

warnings: Does Kelly count as a warning? Kinda of toxic, I’m not really sure? But who actually likes seeing their boyfriend’s ex girlfriend??

author’s note: Italics are flashbacks! This turned out longer than expected, but I hope you guys like it! It’s also been a while since I’ve written fics, so it there are any errors pls ignore them😭

The tension in the car was thick. So thick, Max believed he could cut it with a knife.

Your arms were crossed as you stared out the window while Max glanced at you wearily every other second. Thankfully, there were only three of you in the car. You and Max in the backseat, and the driver in front being separated by a divider. Though, Max was sure the driver was able to hear the current disagreement between you and him.

Max fidgeted with the lanyard of his paddock pass and stared at the side of your face. He knew he had upset you and honestly you had every right to be. You were biting the inside of your cheek in frustration trying to keep your emotions at bay. As much as you wanted to argue with Max about how you disagreed with his actions, he was due to race in a couple of hours and you didn’t want to add any more stress on his shoulders.

But Max wanted to talk about this now while you were both alone.

“Schatje, are you really mad?” Max asked quietly, leaning closer to you and trying to get you to face him. He truly didn’t mean to dampen your mood before the race. Most importantly, he didn’t like that he was the reason for you being upset. Your brows furrowed ever so slightly and a faint pout was on your lips, both indications that you were in fact not happy with him.

“Yes, Max, I am mad.” You answered, your voice trembling a bit. You had finally turned away from the window and were looking at him. Max felt a pang of guilt in his heart once he saw the look in your eyes. They weren’t glaring at him with the heat of anger, but they were soft and glossy, you were hurt—he hurt you.

Max cautiously reached out for your hand and tangled your fingers together, though your hand felt limp, like you didn’t want to hold his hand at all.

“I told you the truth.” Max said, leaning his head down trying to catch your eyes again. You took in a deep breath before turning to fully face him.

“Yes Max, you did and I absolutely appreciate it. I really do.” You began, grasping his hand between yours. “But that doesn’t make up for that fact that you’ve had this planned out for nearly a month and only told me thirty minutes ago!” You argued.

Thirty minutes ago, before your ride to the paddock can pick you guys up, Max had revealed that his ex-girlfriend, Kelly, and her daughter would be at the garage to watch the race. When you asked how they got passes to the garage, he shared that he had flown them out and provided them with passes for the weekend.

“So she’s been here all weekend?” You questioned him, arms crossed and a brow raised at him. The Italian heat felt even ten times worse as you grew frustrated with your boyfriend.

“Yeah, but they were at the Paddock Club, they’re going to watch the race from the garage though.” Max shrugged, as if it were not a big deal. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder and grasped your hand in his free one.

You couldn’t help the feeling of insecurity seeping into your bones. Kelly was rich and gorgeous, she was a model, and you weren’t. You had a normal job that offered you stability, paid you good money, and you knew how to clean up nice. However, you were no where near her level of anything or any of the other WAGs at that.

“You’ve known this whole time that she was here?” You asked quietly, your brows furrowed at him. You hated that you kept asking him questions, it was like you were interrogating him.

Max looked down at you, confusion etched on his face, “I did, schatje. I flew them out and got them some paddock passes.” You acted before you could speak, and shook your head at him, rolling your eyes in annoyance. Your boyfriend was one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met, however, many people took that as a sign to take advantage of him. While it took him longer to realize it, you noticed it instantly.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset though, I told you the truth, it’s not like I’m doing anything with her.” Max defended himself, his hands wildly moving around. “She reached out telling me that P missed me and wanted to come to a race, it’s not for her, it’s for Penelope.”

“I understand that Max and as harsh as this sounds, Penelope isn’t your responsibility. I get that you helped raise her, but you guys broke up, you don’t need to provide for her anymore.” You threw a hand in the air, emphasizing your point. “Kelly’s fully capable of flying herself out and buying tickets to a race weekend.”

“I was just being nice.” Max raised his voice, also growing frustrated with the situation.

“And she’s still using you!” You fumed, tears welled in the corner of your eyes. “How many times does she have to use you for you to realize it? You guys broke up and she still manages to get what she wants out of you! Do you know how embarrassing it is to walk in and see her there?” You tried to reason with him. While many of his fans didn’t approve of Kelly, you knew Twitter would have a field day clowning you when they find out Kelly was present in the garage. Social media was never always a nice place and you’ve learned to ignore it, but that didn’t mean it stopped the hate from happening.

Max ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

“This is ridiculous.” He muttered under his breath, you scoffed and leaned back into your seat, staring at the window again.

“Do you not trust me?” Max asked forcibly, staring at the side of your head again. You let out a defeated sigh and turn your head to look at him, “I do trust you, Max.”

Max’s shoulders slouched as he leaned on the seat sideways, his body fully turned to you.

“Then why do you not trust me with this?” He pushed, nudging your knee with his, trying to get an answer out of you. He knew he was at fault and he just wanted to make it right.

“I don’t trust her.” You simply answered, feeling done with the conversation. The car turned, nearing the entrance of the paddock. You sniffled as you untucked your hair from behind your ears, removing your sunglasses from the top of your head.

“You don’t have to worry about her, schatje. I want you not her, there’s a reason why we broke up.” Max reassured, trying to ease the tension between the two of you.

The car came to a halt, a knock came from the driver, indicating that you guys arrived at the paddock. Before you could leave, you turned to Max and said, “Yet, she’s still here.”

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Entering the paddock was always a frenzy. The moment you stepped out the car, fans were quick to recognize you, knowing that one of their favorite drivers were right behind you. You slid your sunglasses on and smoothed out the white maxi dress you wore. Max followed in suit and flashed a smile at the fans.

Shouldering his bag, he held his hand out to you, “I know you’re upset, but can I please hold your hand?”

You nodded and entangled your fingers with his. The two of you began your walk into the paddock hand in hand, as fans screamed and waved at Max. He gave your hand a squeeze before guiding you guys to some of the barricades and signing a few things for the fans.

After you guys scanned your passes, Max led you guys to the Red Bull garage. However, you came to a halt. Max was quick to look back at you, “You okay?”

“Yeah—I’m gonna meet up with Alex and Rebecca, if that’s okay? We were planning on seeing each other before the race.” You tell him. A small pout formed on Max’s lips, “Oh, okay, I’ll drop you off.” He offered, still holding your hand.

You and the girls decided to meet up at the Paddock Club. In front of the entrance, Max stood in front of you.

“You’ll come to the garage to watch, right? I need you there.” He asked quietly, so that people passing by cannot hear your conversation.

You nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be there before you’re in the car.”

Max mirrored your actions, “Okay, I love you.” He pulled you in by the waist and pressed a kiss onto your forehead. You squeezed his waist in response, “I love you too.”

Max watched as you entered the building, huffing to himself, while he watched you walk further and further into the building.

Placing your sunglasses above your head, you scan the room until you see one of the girls, Alex was the first to spot you, standing in her spot and waving at you to come over.

“Coucou mon amour!” She greeted you, (Hello, my love!) immediately wrapping you in a hug. You squeal as she squeezed you, “Helloo!” You giggled. You go to greet Rebecca, who is immediately giving you a knowing look. Being the older one amongst the three of you, she was often looked up to as the older sister.

She wrapped an arm around you and smoothed your back, “What’s wrong?” She asked while you got situated in the chair beside her.

You shook your head, “It’s just Max.”

Rebecca grabbed the bottle of champagne on the table and poured some into a flute glass. She offered you the glass, “Thank you, I needed this.”

She smiled watching you take a long sip from the glass, “Oh honey, I know.”

Alex pouted and nudged your foot with hers, “What happened with Max?”

“He invited Kelly to watch the race at the garage today.” You bluntly shared, slumping yourself in your chair.

Rebecca’s eyes widened, “Shut up.”

You raised a brow at her, “Oh, I didn’t even get to the kicker yet.”

Alex’s brows raised, “Which is?”

“He flew her out—he fucking flew her out and gave her tickets for the entire weekend.” You revealed through gritted teeth, still being aware of your surroundings. Rebecca cursed under her breath as Alex took your glass and refilled it with champagne.

Grabbing the glass, you continued, “She’s literally been here all weekend and he only told me this morning. I just don’t get it, they broke up, I don’t know why he’s still so concerned about her.” You took another long sip of champagne,

“What was the reason why?” Rebecca asked you.

“Apparently Penelope missed him—which I can believe, but did he really have to do all the providing when she can financially support herself? I get that he was trying to be nice, but still.” You grunt, fiddling with your glass.

Alex comfortingly rubbed your arm, “No, I get it, if Charles did the same thing with his ex, I’d also be upset.”

“I literally told him that she’s using him once again.” You threw your hands up. “If he wants her to be there so much, he might as well just get back with her. Like—am I crazy for losing my mind at the fact they were in contact with each other, even if it wasn’t in a romantic sense?”

Rebecca shook her head, “No, your feelings are absolutely valid. You’re just concerned and it obviously caught you off guard. He shouldn’t have been texting his ex in the first place.”

You groaned and held your head in your hands, “I hate feeling like this, it makes me question if he actually wants to be with me or not.”

Rebecca held her finger up, “I’m gonna stop you right there.” Placing her hand on your shoulder she says, “Max might be acting very stupid right now, but one thing I know for sure is that Max loves you and absolutely adores you. Without a doubt.”

Alex nodded, agreeing with Rebecca, “Like have you seen the way he looks at you? He literally worships the ground you walk on. I’m sure he’s beating himself up right now for doing what he did.”

“He loves you, (y/n), everyone who’s seen you guys together knows it. I don’t think he’d put himself in this kind of position on purpose, you’ve got that man wrapped around your finger, babe.” Rebecca reassured you, throwing her arm around your shoulder and pulling you into another hug.

“Come on cheer up, who cares if she’s in the garage today? You’re the one he’s gonna be going home with tonight.” You laughed shaking your head at her teasing.

“Hey! Tonight and every single night!” Alex pointed out raising her glass at you.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Two hours. It’s been two hours since Max has dropped you off at the Paddock Club and he still hasn’t heard back from you. He’s been distracted all day. During a meeting with Christian and some of the engineers, he couldn’t help but constantly check for a text from you, earning himself a scolding from the team principal. Checo and a couple of people from the team tried talking to him, but he wasn’t paying attention. His eyes wandered wondering when you would enter the garage.

He did in fact see Kelly and P—obviously he was expecting to see them since he invited them, but all he felt while talking to them was guilt. Guilty because he remembered the look of hurt and betrayal in your eyes and how he was the reason behind it. He hated it, he felt grimy, and dirty for going behind your back and texting Kelly. Not even ten minutes into catching up with the mother and daughter, Max realized that you were in fact correct. Kelly had used him again, instantly making advances on him despite knowing he was happily taken. But for the sake of P, Max made sure to be friendly though kept his distance to not feed into her mother’s schemes.

It was nearing lights out and you were still not in the garage. He had gone through his warm ups with Bradley, had his fireproofs and suit on, and even laced up his shoes. Still, no sight of you whatsoever in the garage. He was beginning to worry about you, sending you a couple of messages to your phone.

The car was due to be on the grid and there was about half an hour left till lights out. Max looked around the bustling garage, checking to see if you had snuck in without him seeing, though to no avail, you still weren’t there.

“Max…Max…Max?” GP tried to get Max’s attention. Snapping a finger in front of the driver’s face, Max’s eyes flickered over to his race engineer.

“What do you want now?” Max groaned, throwing his head back. To onlookers, it looked like a typical interaction between Max and GP. Though, GP felt like he was babysitting a child whose attention span couldn’t focus on one thing for more than a few seconds.

“Mate, I’ve been talking to you for the past five minutes.” GP claimed. Choosing to ignore the information he had just “briefed” Max on, he decided to be a friend.

“Where’s your head at?” GP asked Max. The Dutch man sighed, leaning against one of the storage units in the garage.

“I messed up with (y/n). I did something and it was my fault, I know it was. But she’s not happy with me at the moment and I just want to make it right.” Max summarized, not sharing any more details to protect the privacy of your relationship.

GP motioned towards Kelly who was talking to one of the other influencers in the garage, “Does it have to deal with that?”

“Unfortunately.” Max mumbled, crossing his arms and choosing to stare at the floor.

GP took a minute to stare at his driver. Max was deflated, he wasn’t as hyped for the race or over explaining some random fact about god knows what. Instead, Max kept to himself, greeting people when he had to and communicating with his team prior to the race. Other than that, Max chose to stare at his phone and look longingly outside the garage.

“Listen, I don’t know what exactly went down. But I’ve seen you with (y/n) and she clearly makes you happy, we’ve all see how lively you are with her around. You’ve got a lot of groveling to do bud, but it’ll be worth it.” GP advised, clapping Max on the back to wake him up.

“She’ll always be worth it.” Max quietly said, taking another glimpse at his phone. Only to be met with his wallpaper of you and him, with no notifications.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Christian Horner stared at his monitor at the pit wall watching as drivers and their teams gathered on the grid. He saw Checo by his car, taking a few sips of water before the race. When the camera panned to Max’s Red Bull, the driver was no where to be seen. Sparing him a second of wondering where his driver was, the camera cut to the garage where Max stood, race suit at his waist, looking no where near ready to participate in the race.

“Why is Max not in the car?” He turned to GP, stress evident on his face. GP turned in his seat and looked back into the garage to see Max pacing. Cursing under his breath, he excused himself from Christian and rushed to Max.

“Max, the race is literally about to start!”

Max stops his pacing and places his hands at his hips, “I need my girlfriend.”

“What?” Bradley and GP both stuttered out. Max deadpanned at the two men in front of him.

“(Y/n), I need to see her before the race.” Max demanded. Bradley pinched the bridge of his nose, “Max, she’ll be here after the race, you’ll be fine.” He pushed the balaclava towards Max’s chest, who simply let the mask fall at his feet.

GP sighed at Max, before calling one of the Red Bull employees.

“Please send out a search for (y/n), Max is refusing to get in the car.” He whispered to the intern. The girl looked at him confusingly but nodded and set out the garage.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

You rushed as best as you could in kitten heels towards the Red Bull garage. You were supposed to be at the garage at least half an hour ago. You and the girls got caught up catching up with each other’s lives that none of you realized it was getting close to lights out. It truly was a funny sight, the three of you rushing out of the Paddock Club and running through the paddock like a bunch of maniacs.

“(Y/n)!” You heard someone yell. You stopped in your steps and looked around, only to see a girl dressed in Red Bull uniform. You recognized her, you believed her name was Nicole and was an intern for the team this season.

“Hey! Is Max on the grid already?” You approached her, a little sad that you missed seeing him before the race.

“No, he’s actually waiting for you. They’re sending out a search for you because he’s refusing to get in the car.” Nicole explained, placing a gentle hand on your back and guiding you through the crowd of fans and towards the garage.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

GP released a sigh of relief once he saw you enter the garage. He shoved Max’s shoulder to avert his attention to you.

“What—oh,” Max began, only to stop himself and rush towards you. You met him half way, placing a hand on his elbow.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant to stay there for too long.” You quickly apologized. Max shook his head, “I don’t care, I’m just happy you’re here.”

Your brows furrowed at him, “Why are you here? Why aren’t you in the car yet?”

Max placed both his hands on your waist with a faint blush on his cheeks, “I need my goodluck kiss.”

You paused your actions, “You’re kidding me. Max, the race is about to start in five minutes!” You scolded your boyfriend.

“Please, schatje.” He pleaded, leaning closer towards you. Other team members and guests watched the both of you, the scene in front of them peaking their interests.

You gazed up at his stormy eyes, giving in because you knew he was stubborn and wouldn’t stop until he got his way. Plus, the team would hate you if you lowered their chances of scoring points this weekend.

“Just because I kiss you doesn’t mean I’m not mad at you anymore.” You clarified quietly. His forehead nodded against yours, “I know schatje. I promise to make it up to you, I really do.”

A small smile forms on your lips, “I know, Maxie.”

Max takes that as his sign to crash his lips onto yours. One of his hands support the back of your neck while the other rests on your lower back. You smile against his lips, pulling back and placing a peck right above the small mole on his upper lip.

“I love you.” You whispered to him.

“I love you too.” He whispered back. Before you can fully pull away from him he quickly adds, “I’m serious about my promise.”

“I know, baby.” You squeeze him comfortingly. “Now get out there and win the race. Stay safe.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead as both you and GP ushered him towards his gear that’s been waiting to be put on.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

A man of his word, Max won the race. With at least a five second gap between him and Lando, your boy was top step yet once again. As much as he won, the thrill of seeing him win and crossing the finish line never got old. You celebrated every win of his as if it were his first. You’d always be proud of him, whether he got pole or not.

Many of the engineers and members of the team began to rush towards the grid, eager to greet Max once he got out the car.

Looking around, you suddenly make eye contact with Kelly, who seemed to have been sizing you up. You weren’t really sure what look was on her face, but the hints of a snarl were on her lips. With her nose stuck up in the air, you watched as she carried her daughter and began to follow the rest of the team.

“Don’t mind her. You’re the one he wants to see when he gets out that car.” A voice said from beside you. You jumped, coming face to face with Christian. Your eyes widened at your boyfriend’s boss. Prior to the race, he was informed of the search party the entire team had for you to get Max in the car. While he was annoyed earlier, he thought it was rather cute that Max was so fond of you.

“You know, he’s never begged her for a good luck kiss.” Said Christian, a knowing look on his features. “You on the other hand—he can’t seem to function whenever you’re not around.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was gonna put that much of a fight earlier today.” You apologized, feeling a bit flustered. “He’s a bit stubborn sometimes.” You added, to which Christian chuckled at.

“Oh, I know. Max and I have worked together for years.” He stated. He glanced out the garage and motioned towards it, “C’mon now, I’m sure he’s already looking for you.”

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

You make your way through the crowd of Red Bull members, many of them recognizing you and helping you squeeze through till you were at the very front of the barricade.

Max was already out, helmet in his hand, while his other embraced GP and a couple other engineers. You watched as he high-fived Penelope, barely sparing a glance at her mother. A little burst of pride went off in your stomach, you couldn’t help it.

His blue orbs scanned the crowd of red and blue, looking for you. You yell his name, his eyes immediately finding yours. A smile breaks out on his face as he rushed over to you, dropping his helmet in the process. Despite the barricade between you two, he wraps both his arms tightly around you, lifting you off the ground.

“Max!” You squealed, your arms wrapping around his neck. His large hand found your cheek, slightly pulling you away from his neck so he can connect his lips with yours. Naturally, your lips moulded perfectly against his moving in synch. The team erupted in cheers around you.

“I’m so proud of you!” You tell him once your lips separate.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” He grins, gently pinching your bottom lip between his pointer finger and thumb.

He couldn’t stay long, being told that he had to get to the podium for the trophy ceremony.

“I’ll see you after the podium, schatje!” He yelled with a wink over his shoulder, causing a blush to form on your cheeks.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

The ceremony and the media tent took a while, you finally got to see Max an hour later. You were sitting in his driver’s room, when he bursted through the door already looking for you.

You stood up, smiling at him, “Hey.”

He mirrors your smile. Placing the trophy on the couch he opens his arms for you. You walk into the comfort of his hold, burying your head into the crook of his neck and wrapping your arms around his torso.

Finally it was just the two of you.

“I’m sorry.” You said, though it came out muffled against his skin. Max’s hands stopped the circular motions they were rubbing on your back.

“For what?”

You pulled back looking at him, “I overreacted about the whole Kelly thing. I should’ve taken your word for it.”

Max immediately shook his head, disagreeing with you. “No, you were absolutely right about her. I should’ve listened to you from the beginning. The moment I said hi to them she was already trying to come onto me—I avoided her by the way, I just entertained P.”

“I’m also sorry for what I said about P. I was in the wrong for that comment.” You said, a small grimace on your face when you remembered the off hand comment you made about the poor child.

Max chuckled, “Schatje, seriously, it’s okay.”

His calloused hands were rough against the soft skin of your face. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and cradled your jaw in his hand.

“I may have a soft spot for P, but they’re in my past. You’re my future, (y/n). The future that I only want and see myself in.” Max admitted. Your eyes gleamed at him, “You’re the future I want too, Maxie.”

“Good because you’re not getting rid of me that easily. You’re stuck with me.” He joked, squeezing your cheeks.

“I love you. So much. I know it seemed like I didn’t trust you today, but I want you to know that I do. I fully trust you with my life and I mean it.” You said, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

Max nodded, “I believe you. I love you too.”

The two of you basked in the silence and comfort of being in each others arms. Max was the first one to break the silence, “You don’t have plans after this right?”

You hummed against his neck, “Besides celebrating your win, nothing. Why?”

“Because I’m taking you out on a date.” Max proudly announced, a goofy smile on his lips.

“Don’t you wanna celebrate with the team?” You asked him. Max shook his head, “Nope, the only person I want to celebrate with tonight is you.”

You giggled at Max’s antics, “Whatever you say, Champ.”