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xhopelesslyromanticx · 5 months

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Delusional - Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader

Masterlist

summary: In which the internet once again is fooled by your slightly overdramatic side. Rumors about Lando dumping you circulate but luckily the Mclaren driver is just as delusional as you are. Social Media Au

y/nfewtrell

Home

liked by kellypiquet and 60‘797 others

y/nfewtrell in my feelings bruh

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maxfewtrell did you take my hoodie?

y/nstans what why????

user567 sense a breakupppp

f1islife stunning

arthur_leclerc *plays taylor swift

user345 arthur what do you know

y/nandlan Lando didn’t like?!

user567 see his post? he seems completely unbothered

user898 Landos too good for her anyw

f1gossip you sound bitter

user787 i just always had weird vibes from her

f1gossip we‘ve met y/n and she‘s literally an angel

y/nfewtrell thanks means a lot

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell and 567‘897 others

landonorris how I try to entertain

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user687 such a hottie

f1fans someone say unbothered cough

georgerussell63 I thought you were on a diet?

alex_albon he‘s abt 4ft tall he doesn’t need a diet

mclaren next week we back to veggies

f1lover wheres the missus

user789 y/n doesn’t attend most gps she goes to university

f1fans yeah but so do Alex and Kika yet they seem to be way more supportive

user789 I‘m sure shes supportive just maybe also focused on her on career?

y/nstans y/n not liking landos post has me scaredddd

maxfewtrell looking smug

landonorris thanks bestieeee

maxfewtrell

Paris

liked by landonorris and 123‘890 others

maxfewtrell took the little nugget to paris @y/nfewtrell

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user578 she‘s so cute

f1lover peeping the papaya phone case

norrisandme yes also Lando liked! they goood

y/nfrance we met her yesterday and she seemed fine

arthur_leclerc the nugget in the big city

y/nfewtrell miss you archer

f1gossip my fave friendship

user787 why is she already flirting with guys when the rumors aren’t comfirmed

maxfewtrell oh god if you think y/n can flirt you‘re in for suprises

y/nfewtrell thanks maxie :) loved the trip

team_quadrant let’s go to Brazil!!!!

f1gossip

liked by user676 and 12‘899 others

f1gossip You guys know we normally don’t cover anything realitionship releated but it looks like Lando and Y/n are going through some crisis. She appeared on a tiktok crying after a series of mysterious tweets and instagram posts. Neither her or Lando have yet confirmed the rumors. But she has been absent from his likes and vice versa.

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user676 she’s making it obvious

f1fans cloutchaser?

y/nstans shut up

landonorris @y/nfewtrell care to explain missy

y/nfewtrell no i dont care to, peace out

user676 omg they commented

norrislove they clearly are clowing y‘all

maxfewtrell the woman cries like twelfe times a day and people still wonder?

landonorris twelfe is a little much, ten maybe eleven

y/nfewtrell I have my reasons this time!

y/nfewtrell

Austin Texas

liked by charlottesine and 234‘890 others

y/nfewtrell my lanlan. I formally apologize for being a lot to handle sometimes. I do love you more than words could even get close to explain. Thanks for being the best boyfriend and bestfriend. Thanks for pretending I‘m 21 forever.

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landonorris my world, anything for you 🧡

y/nfewtrell love youuu

maxfewtrell disgusting

maxfewtrell we all know she aint 21, plus he’s MY bestfriend

f1gossip we stan an overdramatic queen

charlottesine power couple

y/nfewtrell thanks chacha

user787 how annoying all that for such a petty reason

f1fans right i was relieved he had dumped her ass

y/nstans sad people you are, she clearly makes him happy

arthur_leclerc happy 21st I guess ;)

landonorris whats with the wink you twat

f1user y/n control your mans

landonorris

liked by f1 and 1‘124‘799 others

landonorris happy 21st birthday to the most beautiful 21 one year old I know. I love you so much eventhough your overdramatic soul makes people assume we broke up every couple of months. I love you my angel.

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user676 21!?!?

f1gossip look at y/ns post

f1lover they have me dead

charles_leclerc isn’t she-

arthur_leclerc shut up charlie

maxfewtrell tell them!

y/nfewtrell thanks bean. I love you more.

maxfewtrell bean? cringe

kellypiquet such a beautiful girl

f1gossip so the whole drama reallly was bc she doesn’t wanna turn 22 hahaha

user67 she‘s truly overdramatic

f1 we love a supportive and delusional king

mclaren like a true gentleman Mr.Norris

maxfewtrell

Sao Paulo

liked by oscarpiastri and 123‘788 others

maxfewtrell happy 22nd second you LIAR, never thought Lando would go as delulu as you. Love you nugget.

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moonysimp · 2 years

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flowers and rain –mick schumacher.

short story i wrote a while ago <3

pov: you and mick took a break, but he shows up on your birthday to talk to you.

you hear a knock on your door. "did you guys order anything?", you ask your friends while you walk to the door. you open it and your heart starts jumping on your chest as you lock eyes with the last person you thought would be standing outside of your apartment. mick gives you a shy smile, holding on for dear life on the flowers he bought for you.

"happy birthday, sunshine", he says, and you can't help but want to wrap your arms around him and never let him go. all the emotions you have been pushing away for the past 4 months come at you like a wave, drowning you. your eyes water and you give in, closing the distance between the two of you. you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him, closing your eyes, allowing yourself one moment of selfishness. you feel his arms quickly wrap around your waist and you inhale his minty scent, one that you never seem to get enough from.

"thank you, micky", you whisper against his ear. god you've missed him. the hug ends as you both separate from each other, although the minute that is over you are already missing the feeling of his body close to yours. you need to pull yourself together as he gives you the flowers. of course they have to be lilies, mick never forgets how much you love them. you accept them and you extend your arm and signal him to come inside. he does and you close the door, but he quickly stops and turns to look at you.

"i'm sorry i'm here this late", he says. "i just- really needed to see you, and wish you a happy birthday".

"it's fine, we stayed up chatting and all", you say. "mom and the girls came and we had a little party here".

speaking of them, angi calls out to you from your room. "y/n who is it? hurry up or we are gonna eat all the ice cream".

"i'm coming!", you yell at her.

"if you don't mind, i'd really like to talk to you", mick glances at the door and then at you again, feeling nervous. "but if you're busy i'll just-"

"no, don't go", you blurt, hating how needy you sound. but you cant stand the idea of him going away again. you are familiar with the pain that causes. "let me go tell them you're here and we can go to the rooftop and talk privately". you search for a vase to put the flowers on before going to your room. you open the door and put your hand on your mouth, still processing the fact that the boy you love is right outside waiting to talk to you.

your friends all give you confused looks.

"what's wrong? who was it?", mom asks you.

"mick is outside. he brought me flowers. and told me he needed to see me. and talk to me. and oh wish me a happy birthday like he doesn’t know that the best present i could receive is him standing outside of my door", you tell them as you simultaneously see them all open their mouths to form a perfect "o". "so i'm gonna leave you here, and i'm gonna go outside to talk to him, so behave", you say and you don't give them a chance to say anything as you slip away from the room and come back to mick. you both leave the apartment and take the stairs to the rooftop in silence.

what does he want to talk to you about? has he missed you like you've missed him? does he also want to get together because he finds that the world without you does not seem as colorful as it was before? is he gonna tell you he met somebody else and your break is more than over? thousand of questions swirl in your mind. you get to the rooftop and you take the both of you to the pair of chairs that are always in here but he shakes his head, as you hear thunder from afar.

"i would rather not sit. since i've been sitting during most of my trip", he says, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. he always does that when he's nervous.

you let out a sigh and decide to get this over with and finally know what's going on. "why are you here?"

"you know i've never been able to lie to you, even if i were, it would never be possible for me to hide how much i miss you. because i do, y/n, so fucking much", his blue eyes look sincere, and you feel the sudden need to cry. because it is obvious the break has affected you both the same way. "i understand why we decided to take a break, and it honestly seemed like the right call at the time, but it clearly wasn't. not when i can't seem to stop longing for you at every moment of the day. so i am here now, willing to put my heart out for you but most importantly willing to listen how you feel. and finally end this doubt that eats me alive every day.", his hands grip mine as he gives me a sweet look. "do you miss me too?"

"of course i do, micky. and this break has caused more pain than good. i know we were not in the best position when we decided to part ways for some time, but it was nothing compared to the hollow feeling that is not having you with me." you feel the first drops of rain on your skin, you let go of his hands and take your hands to cup his cheeks. "i love you, mick schumacher, and not even a hundred breaks could make that go away".

rain starts falling from the sky as he closes the gap between the two of you. he kisses you with a burning passion, trying to show you just how much he has thought about this moment. your hands go to his hair and his hands grip your hips. the rain keeps coming down on you. not all the words in the world could describe the kiss, and all the magic it came with it. you break the kiss breathless, and you can't help but to smile at the beautiful boy in front of you, with his red lips and his hair soaking wet.

"this kiss? and under the rain?", you murmur against his lips. "best birthday present i could ever receive". he laughs as you hug him, your head resting on his chest, and his head resting above yours.

"i love you. promise me you will never forget that." he says, closing his eyes.

"i promise", you vow, thinking you couldn't be more in love with him.

#mick schumacher fic #mick schumacher #fanfic #f1imagines #formula1 #formula1driver #oneshot #fluff

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changetyre · 1 month

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I’ve just been made aware user aprilshowers234 on wattpad has stolen a bunch of work of writers on tumblr and copied them to “their books” without permission including some of my work ;(

Please if you can take the time to report their page or comment so they can take it down and never pull anything like this off again it would be greatly appreciated.

#f1imagines #f1fics #f1writers #change tyre #changetyre

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prettyboystunnin · 2 years

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charles looks like he’s 16 with his first flip phone in his bedroom listening to the radio that’s blasting the local teen radio as he’s texting the first girl he added on his blackberry and arthur came in asking what he's doing and charles is like nothing get out and arthur’s like omg what’re you doing on your phone and charles just wants him out the room so he's like i’m taking pics wanna take one with me and then they take this pic and arthur gets shooed out

#charlesleclerc #f1oneshots #f1imagines

#this is actually cursed #my debut as a fic writer #i sent this to e.m. as a joke and they made me post this so blame them #credits to whoever found the pic bc i don't know where it came from

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honeybadger16 · 10 months

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Masterlist

F1 imagines

sexual themes *

Max Verstappen

Honey Badger in the Lion's Den *

Summary: Being the girlfriend of Max Verstappen has its perks: traveling all around the world, attending luxurious parties, and grabbing the attention of a certain Australian driver who can't stop staring at you and Max.

Charles Leclerc

Boyfriend! Charles Leclerc Headcanons

Daniel Ricciardo

Honey Badger in the Lion’s Den *

Boyfriend! Daniel Ricciardo Headcanons *

Lando Norris

Boyfriend! Lando Norris headcanons

F1 Drivers

How f1 drivers would cuddle with you

#f1 #f1imagine #f1smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen #maxverstappenxreader #max verstappen smut #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lewis hamilton imagine #pierre gasly imagine #mick shumacher imagine

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i-podi-di-hulkenberg · 1 year

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Norris in a red car, who would like to see him in it? :)

#norris #landonorris #mclaren #redcar #arcade #f1 #formula1 #f1 fandom #f1imagine #ferrari #scuderia ferrari #norrisferrari

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i-podi-di-hulkenberg · 1 year

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When there was him, we sbinned in time

#ferrari #f1 #formula1 #skymotori #f1meme #f1memes #mattia binotto #bin8 #binotto #f1imagine #f1fandom

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i-podi-di-hulkenberg · 1 year

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I still can't believe that he is not changed since Kart days....

#Norris #landonorris #ln4 #kart #mclaren #mclaren f1 #f1imagine #f1fandom

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i-podi-di-hulkenberg · 1 year

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35 could be something else :=O

#f1 #f1fandom #f1imagine #norris #landonorris #mclaren #box #boxpanel #pit lane

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caesium-55 · 1 month

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—seven days. [ iv ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

warning/s: sexual content but it's nothing too explicit. also angst angst angst.

author's note: NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED. also, lemme know what u guys think!! would love to read it honestly. it was what had been keeping me inspired.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @leclercdream

masterlist.

You have three philosophies in life.

Pussies do not get the good stuff. If you want the good stuff, don't be a pussy.

Hard work will pay off one day. In the meantime, work hard but don't work too hard. You work smart and make it seem like you're working hard so by the time your “hard” work pays off, you’re not too tired from working and still have energy to enjoy your reward, you know? Does that make sense?

Whatever Max Verstappen wanted, Max Verstappen would get.

Now let us focus on philosophy number three. It's a shitty philosophy to have, but when you're working as the manager of Red Bull’s golden boy—after Sebastian Vettel, of course—that philosophy sort of becomes the job description. It's your job to give whatever Max Verstappen wanted, whatever he needed.

When he asks you that question, sounding so innocent as if he hasn't just yanked your entire world off its axis by saying those words, your first reaction is to pull up the middle finger. Fuck you, Max. Max is an asshole for asking you that. Max is an absolute asshole for asking you for a kiss. For the five years you've worked for him, he should already be aware of the power he holds over your head. Should be aware that you'll give anything he'll ask. That's why he should be careful with what he's asking from you.

Said asshole has the audacity to pout. He resembled the pet duck who lived in your Abuelo's farm that you were very fond of in your childhood. Her name was Maria and she was a menace. Your Abuelo even tied a pink bow to the duck’s neck so it could be easily recognizable. A 181-cm tall, broad-shouldered, blond-brown-haired Dutch duck with a blue-eyed gaze that will never fail to make your bones tremble and your heart stutter once you let yourself stare at it. You can put a bow around his neck, too, like what your Abuelo did to that duck. Then, use the bow to choke him in a way that is definitely not sexy or kinky but in a way that screams murder, murder, murder.

“That's not nice.”

“‘M not a nice person.”

“You're a nice person, you just don't do nice things.”

You give him a weird look.

“If you weren't a nice person, you would not be here with me right now,” he continues, in a manner that made him seem like a hundred-old sage imparting wisdom. “But you're here and you're not leaving and you're not hurting me so you're nice.”

His words cause something rotten to bloom in your ribs, “How are you so certain that ‘m not gonna end up hurtin’ you? For all you know, I'm gonna use this billiard stick to make you a human skewer right now.”

He laughs. God. The sound is absolutely beautiful that it terrifies you.

“You're you, [Name]. You would never hurt me.”

In a sense, he's right. You will never hurt him. Not intentionally, at least. If you wanted him to hurt, you'll be leaving right now and flying to Texas the same way Kelly did in Abu Dhabi. Because, for someone like Max, nothing in this world is more painful than to be left alone when all you yearned for is someone to be there for you.

“So……will you?” he asks again. “Will you kiss me?”

He's drunk, your brain reasons. Your fingers gently reach for his jaw—very angular, you belatedly realize—and Max chases the warmth of your skin. He does not know what he's asking, your brain reasons again. You tug him towards you and your mouth meets his, immediately registering the taste of the beer on his tongue. He’s stupid, your brain added. I’m stupid, too, you argue mentally and pushes him against the side of the billiard table and toss your stick to the floor and let yourself take everything from Max Verstappen. Fuck you Max, you think with finality. Your brain replies: You’re also fucked.

He took what he wanted from you. Every day. Every single day. He will ask and you will give. Now, it is your turn to take. One last time before the inevitable goodbye that you know will break both of your hearts.

Anger. Frustration. That's what you feel right now. Anger because this is going to make things more complicated for you and goddammit, why are you making things hard for yourself? Frustrated because you’re not supposed to do this but you cannot fucking stop. Thank fuck you resigned before pulling this shit because this is soooooo unprofessional.

You read somewhere that said something like all people are driven to the point of eating their gods after a time. And is this situation not a perfect demonstration of this? Max is your god. Max was your god. And you are going to devour him—fueled by five years of frustration and anger and a series of why, why, why didn't you talk to Horner? Now it's too late because I'm leaving all because you didn't talk to fucking Horner.

You've forgiven 2021. 2022 made your grudge grow. And you're not stupid to continue staying after his 2023 victory when it's clearly not happening—the dream that will be given to you with Max's power. You will never forgive yourself if you stayed here and be continuously reminded of what you could become, what you failed to become.

Max is surprisingly pliant under your hands. A rare occasion. One would expect Max Verstappen to take the lead because that's what he did in the race tracks. A 20-second lead from everyone else. He's also the type to just do whatever he wanted, you know? And people would let him. Because he's Max Verstappen.

Dominance. Total dominance.

“Wait,” he squeezes your arms and you do not hear him clearly the first time because you're so concentrated on his lips and how it feels and tastes against yours. “Wait, wait. Slow down.”

You pull away and you hear him take a gasp of air, “Somethin’ wrong?”

He looks so beautiful like this. Beneath you. Lips swollen. Blue eyes wide with desire. Hair perfectly messy. Grip on your arm so tight that you're sure will definitely leave a hand-shaped bruise tomorrow.

“Can’t breathe,” he says with a light laugh and you resist the urge to violently bash your head against the billiard table because what the fuck? That's not good for your heart. It's too… too… adorable. Max is not supposed to be an adorable person.

You suck in a breath and lower your head until your forehead meets Max’s firm chest.

“Fuck you,” you mumble.

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

You raise your head and meet Max’s eyes, the culprit behind your insanity right now.

(Your Abuela said that blue eyes were just blue eyes. Until you fall in love with someone with blue eyes and blue becomes a color that consumed your world whole. You appreciated the sky more because it reminded you of his eyes. You appreciated the color of the seas more because it reminded you of his eyes. Blue became the color of love.)

Now what? Do you continue or…?

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Do you even need to ask?” you deadpan. Max’s hands circle around your waist and he gently guides you away from him. He dusts his shirt once he has fully risen from the billiard table before his hand finds yours. Fingers intertwining together, he leads you out of the entertainment room.

Your heart drums with anticipation. Numerous questions circle around your head but it all disappears in a flash when Max brings you to the room where you found him that morning. You wince when you walk past the broken door.

Yeah…

Making a payment plan will be hell. You're unemployed at the current moment, too. The first thing you have to do when you land in Texas is find a job.

He makes you sit on his bed, the soft mattress dipping down on your weight. You can only stare at him, brows furrowing in confusion and a question sitting on the tip of your tongue that you are yet to voice out. Max makes a beeline to his closet, throwing it open and procuring a box.

A box.

He walks back to you, dropping on his knees and that action makes you panic. Then, Max opens the box, pulling out the most gorgeous pair of five-inch block heels you have ever laid eyes upon and gently slips them onto your feet. The straps have pearls and satin bows and it has tiny white diamonds, elegantly cut, as the centerpiece. Not even the YSL Opyum heels you own can compare to its elegance and beauty.

You almost kick him in the face because you do not expect that he’ll do that.

I bought shoes and they don't fit her. Max has told you. You feel bile rise up your throat.

The shoes. They fit you. Perfectly. As if it was made to be yours. As if it was bought to be yours. As if he was thinking of you, who is nothing but his manager and somewhat friend, when he bought the gorgeous heels instead of Kelly Piquet, his fucking girlfriend of three years whom he had been living with in this fucking penthouse, and parenting little P with.

“They're perfect,” Max whispers and he looks up with that smile playing on his lips. You feel tears sting your eyes and you press your lips into a thin line before moving your gaze away, blinking rapidly.

Max is doing this because he thought you were Kelly.

“They're custom, you know? They're the only pair in the world.”

His words make the taste of bile a hundred times worse. You stare at the shoes on your feet as if it's a sin to have the shoes fit you. No wonder Kelly is mad at Max. If Leo has commissioned custom heels with another woman in mind and got your shoe size wrong after three years of being together, you'll feel hurt, too.

You feel the need to apologize to Kelly. Maybe a quick message to her IG? You also follow each other’s private account.

“You’re thinking,” he says and his voice snaps you out of the rabbit hole known as your thoughts. “What are you thinking?”

“Nothin’,” you lie. The feeling of wanting to puke intensifies so you grab Max by his collar and plant your lips against his to push back the imaginary bile stuck on your throat and from there, the situation escalates to the point that clothes are removed. One by one. When you reach to unstrap the heels, Max grabbed your wrists, almost panicked.

“What are you doin’?” you ask.

“Don't take them off please.”

Whatever Max wanted, Max would get.

Your name built a home in Max’s mouth, the syllables rolling off his tongue with ease at every pleasure he felt, while your fingers explore every inch of Max’s skin. You're only allowed to watch back then. Now, you're allowed to touch.

Hearing his whimpers and little groans and shudders—all done by your hands—you feel nothing but satisfaction. He chants your name like it's a prayer and you're his god and if that is not love then you do not what is.

You wait for Max to utter Kelly’s name midway.

He never did.

“What are you doing?” his voice is groggy with sleep. After doing it, he immediately passes out. Weak ass bitch. You're still waiting for the horror once the realization of what you’ve done sinks into your system. The annoying headache, too. For now, none of them have arrived yet. Probably because you still have enough alcohol in your system to numb things out for you. While waiting, you're on your phone.

Ha, it's past 12 midnight now. You have three days to tell Max before you fly to Texas.

“Talkin' to someone,” you reply cryptically. His brows knit together.

“Who?”

“Just Logan.”

“The American in Williams?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, the American in Williams.”

You notice how his arms on your waist tighten, pulling you a little closer to him, but you say nothing. This action causes flowers to bloom in your lungs and you hope he hasn't noticed how your breath hitched.

“Why?”

“He’s my friend. Friends talk,” you deadpan.

Logan Sargeant is an absolute sweetheart. He reminds you a lot of your little brother and you both share the same sentiments regarding the feeling of being unwelcomed in Formula One. You suppose he has it worse though. Nobody in the grid really makes an effort to befriend the young racer and you're fifty percent sure that the fact he's American made a contribution to that.

None of the other racers even follow him on Insta.

“Well, what are you two talking about?” Grumpy and bratty Max is back. Welcome back, asshole.

“He’s in Texas right now and he was askin’ if I was back home, too. Said we should grab a drink together. I promised to show him around Austin.”

“You never invited me to Austin.”

“Why would you even go to Austin?” your nose scrunch a little. “You visit your mother for Christmas.”

He rolls his eyes.

“You're befriending too much racers.”

“Excuse me? I only have Logan as a friend. Charles, too, by extension because he's your friend,” you point out. “Checo and Daniel and Yuki and Liam because they work with you.”

“And me.”

“You're not my friend.”

“What am I then? Your dog?”

“I work for you.”

“You work with me, not for me,” he corrects.

You do not know why your heart skipped a beat at that.

“I’m just trynna be a good friend here and you're bein’ unreasonably grumpy,” you try to shift the subject to save your own sanity. “None of you even tried to befriend Logan.”

Max abruptly reaches for his phone on the bedside table and unlocks it. You watch as he opens his Instagram, the public one, and added Logan's account. You gape. He switches to his private account and searches for Logan’s account in your profile's list of followers and adds him, too.

“What the fuck, Max?”

“I’m befriending him,” he says simply. “I’ll invite him over if he ever comes by in Monaco during the off-season.”

You blink.

“Now say goodbye to him and go back to sleep.”

He tosses his phone to the bedside table and turn his back on you in a manner that reminded you of a very petulant child.

You glance at your phone only to see Logan’s freaked out messages.

logan: HE FOLLOWED ME??!? ON BOTH ACCOUNTS???

logan: AM I SEEING THINGS? HAVE I ACCIDENTALLY SNORTED DRUGS??!

logan: maybe it's the texas heat??

logan: *sent a screenshot*

logan: MAX VERSTAPPEN INVITED ME TO HIS PENTHOUSE??

you: congrats child

logan: is this your doing??!?

logan: are you with him now?

logan: wait that's impossible, itd be 2 am in monaco now there's no way youd be together rn

If only he knows.

you: how bout we talk later once the sun rises here in monaco?

you: or maybe once i arrive in the us?

logan: sure sure

you: stay safe out there kid

logan: HE JUST FOLLOWED ME I CAN DIE HAPPY

You toss your phone aside and inch closer to Max, looping your arms around him and falling asleep in his warmth.

Your phone rings and it's not the Max Max Max Super Max Max ringtone. It's the default one.

Mama, the caller ID indicates. 4:31 AM is written on the upper right corner of your phone screen. You press the answer button.

“Your Papa…… It was a dangerous call. He needs to see you before he… He might not make it.”

That alone is enough for you to jump out of bed. You scramble to grab last night’s clothes and slip them on. Fuck, they still smell like alcohol.

“Hey, hey, what's wrong?” Max, who's rudely awakened when you abruptly jumped out of bed, looks so lost and when he sees you run your way out of his bedroom and to the stairs, he panics. The poor man panicked. He falls down the bed and runs after you, having the decency to only grab a towel to cover his lower half. He stops you, grabbing your wrist just as you're at the lowest step of the stairs.

“Wait, where are you going?” his voice is still rough with sleep and he's aggressively rubbing out his grogginess from his eyes. You stop, letting out a breath that you don't realize you're holding before turning around to face him. Then, the guilt rushes in. Max looks so…you don't have the words to describe it. His hair is a mess and he still looks sleepy but he also looks wide awake and kind of panicking and confused.

This is a face that's equally endearing and heartbreaking. You can't believe this will be the last time you'll be seeing him. You're still supposed to have three days left but now it's cut short and you—

You'll miss him.

“Sorry, baby,” you come up a few steps and cup his cheeks, bringing his face down so you can kiss his forehead. His hand comes up to lay on top of yours, eyes fluttering close.

“Where are you going?” he asks again.

“Texas,” you reply. “Dad… he… 'Twas a bad call and I need to see him. I need—I need to go home now.”

This is the reality of being family with a firefighter. You're always in danger of losing your father in one of the calls. And that is happening now.

Max understands because he knows your father's line of work.

“Do you need me to come with you?”

You shake your head.

“Then, I’ll drive you.”

“No,” you shoot him down quickly. “You drank last night. It’s dangerous.”

“I’m not drunk now.”

“Max,” you breathe through your nose to calm yourself down. “I’ll take the next flight available to the US. You stay here.”

“Take my jet.”

“No, Max,” you say. “Thank you for the offer but you’ll use the jet when you visit your mother.”

“I can fly commercial,” he squeezes your hands. “You don't want me to drive you. You don't want me to come with you. At least take the jet.”

You open your mouth to protest.

“Just take the jet, please, [Name].”

Whatever Max wanted, Max would get. So you nod your head slowly because it looks like he'll argue just to get you seated in his jet. And you'll argue with him if it was any other day but not today because you need to leave quickly. Time is becoming too precious. You can lose your Dad any second. You just wish you can see him and talk to him before he went.

“Okay.”

You pull away, whipping around to head to the door but Max doesn't let your wrist go. You turn back to him.

“What is it, Max?”

“Text me when you land in Texas?”

“Of course.”

“One last thing. Wait here.”

He runs back to his room and you tap your foot impatiently, eyes trained on the mismatched shoes that covered your feet. Max returns not even five minutes later and now, he's wearing clothes and he’s carrying the shoe box from last night.

You swallow the lump on your throat.

“Take this with you.”

With shaking hands, you take the box.

“See you around, [Name].”

“Goodbye, Max.”

It's a good thing that you spent the entire morning yesterday packing because this makes everything smoother for you. It is a little past 5 am now and the outside world is still enveloped in total darkness. You gaze at the apartment one last time, three suitcases in tow. The keys feel heavy in your hands as you lock the door behind you.

In the middle of your apartment living room sits a lone shoe box with a letter that says: Sorry, Max. I can't steal more from Kelly.

Beside the box is a folder.

An unfinished guide on becoming Max Verstappen’s manager. (I’ll have the final copy printed, binded, and sent before the 2024 pre-season. Haha, I’m channeling my inner Toto Wolff.)

The first paper you’ll see after you open the folder reads:

Max, I know you’d be the one who’d find this one day. By that time, I’ll be in Texas already. I don't know if I’d have told you that I resigned already. If I didn't, that's because I’m a pussy. Sorry.

Anyways, I will say this as straightforwardly as I can because I think I had been a pussy long enough.

I resigned, Max. I won't be your manager by 2024 and honestly, I am worried. Not for you, of course. You’d win WDC whether I am your manager or not. That's how good you are. I am worried for your future manager. I’m afraid it would take someone with guts like me to work for with someone like you. A powerhouse manager for a powerhouse athlete.

Inside, you can find the following things:

How to bake my abuela’s special cheesecake.

How to make Red Bull vodka

How to make Max’s favorite pasta for lunch

List of Max Verstappen’s favorite places in each city

How to iron Max Verstappen’s clothes

What to do when Max accidentally sets the kitchen on fire

What to do when Max has a bad race

How to protect Max Verstappen from angry Hamilton fans

How to deal with a drunk Max Verstappen

Etc…

I will still be watching your journey, not from the Red Bull garage but from another continent. We worked five amazing years together and now it is time for us to fly on different skies. As much as I liked working with you, you can't be the only one reaching your dreams. Don’t worry, I’ll always reach out.

Thank you, Max. For giving me a home. I’m not talking about the apartment. I don't believe that home are establishments. Home is the people you love and Max, you are someone I love.

In the last page of this folder, you’d see a handmade bracelet tucked inside. It's small and it's made of cheap beads and I do not care if you don't think it's worthy enough to be worn on your wrist. Not even going to be offended. It's dirt compared to the Cartier bracelets you wear everyday. I bought the beads while roaming in Brazil and I just thought I’d make you one.

I cannot give you any gift that you already cannot buy with your money so I went ahead and made this. Money cannot buy anything made by my own hands.

Thank you again, Max.

And I’m so fucking sorry.

Please don't be angry.

I love you.

You watch the sun rise inside Max's jet as you fly over Monaco to Texas.

#mv1 #mv33 #max verstappen #f1imagines #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #f1 #formulaone #fanfic #max verstappen fanfic

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moonysimp · 11 months

Text

blind date — oscar piastri

summary: short story | your friends set up a blind date for you. it couldn't be a person of the paddock. turns out they didn't agree to that and a certain good looking aussie shows up.

everyone could see it, and everybody could feel the tension between you two whenever you were together in the paddock.

everyone, of course, except you two. you two liked to ignore it.

there were feelings, but feelings were too complicated and your lives were complicated enough as it was since working in formula 1 meant you had to be running from one place to another.

your relationship started back in 2021. as a prema employee of course you had heard of oscar, the driver leading the fia formula 3 championship, but you didn't get introduced to him until he was promoted to f2, where you worked.

having won both formula renault and formula 3 when you met him you were expecting someone very different. egocentric maybe? two championships in a row made some people's egos increase significantly, but oscar had to be the most down-to-earth guy you'd met.

he was very polite, a bit shy but actually very funny, and you two seemed to get along just fine. and, as the f2 season developed you quickly became oscar's favorite person in the paddock (not that he ever mentioned that to you).

and then oscar was crowned champion and you realized that he wouldn't be around so much anymore and you thought that you would drift apart. but you didn't. and so your relationship became even more tight , and precious to you.

you two liked to think what it would be like to be together whenever no one was looking, but none of you were brave enough to say that. so you admired each other from a distance.

when oscar's duties were to be alpines' reserve driver he would always sneak up to the f2 paddock to see you, and talk to you. and so it went like that for that entire season. after abu dhabi, your friends were tired of seeing you two look at each other with heart eyes so they decided to pull some strings.

be at the restaurant at 9, and dress fancy; those were the two requirements your friends had told you before the blind date. now it was 9:12 pm you were stressed because your "date" hadn't arrived and you kept asking to yourself why did you accept to do this in the first place.

you snapped out of your head when you realized someone was standing right next to your table you looked up to shockingly see your favorite aussie boy.

"mr piastri", you said with a glint of confusion in your voice. he hated to be called like that, so of course you always liked to mess around with him.

"miss y/ln", he said with a smile, "are you here as a part of a blind date kind of situation?", he was so fucking glad it was her who was sitting at the table.

to be honest, oscar didnt expect much from the blind date when his friends came to share his proposal to him. now, he couldn't be happier he said yes.

"yeah and i guess you're here for that as well", you said smirking. they fucking did it, you kept thinking. they realized i am crazy for this silly boy. you would yell at your friends later for lying to you, but right now you had a date.

you two skipped the nervousness first dates usually bring, having known oscar for quite some time it was just rather enjoyable to be eating and chatting with him, just the two of you. maybe you should've done this sooner.

turns out oscar was a wine lover, he was rather used to the alcohol but you weren't, and by the end of the evening you found yourself tipsy and very, very talkative.

so when oscar brough his hand to your lower back to guide you to his car to drive you home, you looked at those pretty brown eyes, and you opened your mouth to said what you had been thinking the whole night.

"how long is it gonna take for you to admit that you like me?", to make the matter even worse, after hearing your words oscar faintly blushed. god you really wanted you kiss him right now.

he cleared his throat, "i guess i could simply ask you the same thing right now"

you couldn't help but to laugh, "i asked first"

he smiled, and you'd thought this since the moment you met him, you would never get tired of seeing that smile. "i like you, y/n, from the moment i laid my eyes on you on the prema garage, and i kept liking you even after hearing you call me mr piastri a thousand times", he placed a piece of your hair behind your ear, "even after earning too many problems for sneaking to the f2 paddock just to see you, and i feel a bit ashamed for not saying it sooner"

you couldn't find the right words, he was looking at you with the sweetest look on his face. you kissed him because not all the words in the world could say as much as that kiss, and you knew it. he knew it too.

#oscar piastri #fanfic #short story #f1imagines #f1 drivers #oscar piastri fanfic #formula1

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