Abudhabby29-blog - Abby’s Blog (it’s All About The Self)

reckless driver ☆ mv1

genre: photographer!reader, angst, moody!max, yearning, jos hate club

word count: 9.9k

Switching to be Max’s personal photographer wasn’t a planned note on your agenda. Neither was him opening up. A lot of things weren’t, therefore, making his growing crush on you catch him completely off guard. 

inspired by reckless driving, lizzy mcalpine !

cherry here!...would it be a regular cherry fic if it didn’t hurt ya just a little bit?

 All he knew was how to be perfect.

It has nothing to do with his looks, doesn’t even mean this in a condescending way. The perfect shade of watercolor eyes. The perfect mix of dirty blond hair. The perfect color of pink that taints his lips. The perfect curve of his nose. This had nothing to do with that. 

For fucks sakes, Max! Jos grits his teeth tightly, marching closer and closer. The accelerator is there for a reason! 

From a very early age, Max’s vocabulary grew an excessive amount, but again, it mainly had to do with how many curse words he could count based on angry verses his dad would often spit at him. By the time he was five, he knew them all, and he knew them by heart. Something inside of him became almost immune to all of that. The hurtful comments, the hatred behind his eyes, the annoyance of not being the best. There was nothing he couldn't handle. And if he remembers well enough, then he can still vividly hear the conversation between his parents. 

Just one more, Sophie. Maybe then, if we’re lucky, we’ll have another boy. One that actually has potential.

He swore to be the greatest in that very moment. No matter how much he wanted to give up, he never would. Not when he was constantly put down by his own father, or when the nerves ate him alive, making his skin crawl—no. He wouldn’t give into being a failure. Wouldn’t satisfy them ever.

So, he prayed. He prayed every single night for the new baby on the way to be anything but another boy. Let it be a girl, let it be an alien, let it be anything but a boy. Because even though he was just a kid, he knew that if there was another opportunity for Jos to train another son of his, he’d take it, and Max would be left as some unfinished project. 

And lo and behold—it was a girl.

He never really knew true happiness until that very moment. He cried a whole lot when he first held Victoria and everyone thought it was adorable, but no one knew just how much this meant to Max. He would continue to be his father’s main focus, and that’s all that mattered. He would craft himself to be the winner he knew he needed to be in order to get a solid smile from him, even just once. Either way, a few years later his parents wound up getting a divorce, so all was good.

Now, at this very moment—he had finally done it. 

Being a World Champion felt the way he knew it would: unreal.

Yes, the fireworks and the cheers were a part of that, but the warm hug from Jos was what really made it all worth it. All the snarky comments, all the panic attacks, all the isolation growing up—it was all worth it.

That’s a good boy! Jos yelled, rustling his sweaty hair before grinning widely. That’s how you do it! 

He wishes to remember this moment until the day he dies, and hopefully, if he's lucky enough, a bit after that. Whatever the case might be, he’s content, but now there’s something new.

Higher expectations.

You were born to be the greatest, Max. You were destined to outbeat those who are stupid enough to think they have a chance against you. They don't. No they fucking don’t because you, Max Verstappen, are one hell of a lion. Jos takes a sip of champagne, swallowing harshly and not at all quietly. And you wouldn’t want to fuck that up, now would you?

The answer is no. No way in hell would he let his father’s affection slip away. Not when he’s been dreaming of it for so long. He’s worked—and he’s worked hard—for this. There’s nothing, nor anyone, who would matter as much as Jos Verstappen and being the best driver there could ever be.

But then—just then.

You came along.

-

You should have said no. Looking back at it now, you really should have said no.

And yet. You couldn’t have possibly known that from the very beginning. 

Funny enough, you started off as Checo’s photographer. You loved it. He was easy to work with. Not only was he nice to you, but so was his family. The work environment was healthy and fun. Your dream job, really, there was nothing to complain about. 

But one by one, from a nearby corner—always a nearby corner—you watched as Max’s photographers rapidly lost their minds and quit. It’d start off with a scowl from him and end with a huff from them, dropping their expensive cameras and leaving without sparing a second glance. 

It isn’t until photographer number eight where things really do take an unexpected turn.

For you. 

“What do you say?” Christian’s voice booms with need. 

You blink hazily. “I-I’m not too sure. I mean, Checo and I work so well together…”

“No, I know what—and trust me, I feel bad for doing this—but we’re really counting on you. You get along with everyone. Everyone loves you! Who’s to say Max won’t?”

“And what if he doesn’t?” you fight back. “Then what? I quit too?”

“First of all, he will. And second of all, that won’t be necessary because he’ll love you.”

“You’re that confident?”

“I am.”

You sigh, rolling your tired neck before looking back at him. “Well, I’m not. I need to think this through.”

The Red Bull principal nods. “Of course! You need time, of course. But please—you’d be helping us all. Especially Max.”

You’d be a liar if you were to say that his words hadn’t stuck with you. What did he mean by ‘especially Max’? Was it to get the wheels spinning? If it was, then it was definitely working.

Adjusting your camera strap that hangs around your neck, you stare off into the distance as if you might find the answer somewhere in between the clouds. And maybe you did find it. The answer, you mean. You were one hundred percent certain now that you wanted to stay with Checo, you just didn’t know how to break the news to Christian who has done so much for you ever since you started working at Red Bull.

“I heard about the offer,” a deep voice rumbles next to you, making you jump with fear, clutching your camera towards your chest like some sort of secret weapon. The Dutchman remains unbothered, taking in the same sunset as you once were. “Christian tends to do that. Put people on the spot. I hate that about him.”

In a way, you’re sort of surprised by him even speaking to you or that he even knows about your existence. Over the past few years, you’ve only interacted with him a couple of times. Once, when he won his first championship. Twice, when he won his second. And thrice, when he won his, well…third. And they were all due to the awkward congratulatory hug you felt yourself forced to give since everyone around you was doing the same. 

Other than that, you had no reason to cross paths with him despite working for the same team. You two always stayed on opposite sides of the paddock, but it was never intentional, it was just the way things played out. Until now.

“You really shouldn’t say you hate the man who's making your dreams come true,” you whisper, struggling to find your own voice. 

Max hums. “All I said was that I hate that about him, not that I hate him as a person.” A beat. “And for your information, he isn’t the one making my dreams come true—I am.”

“He gave you a chance—”

“A chance he knew someone else would have taken if it weren’t him.” That shuts you right up, silence lingering. Seeing as you both were standing on the terrace overlooking the paddock, you two watched as Christian and Checo converse with one another, hands on their hips like some kind of businessmen. “I worked hard to get to where I am, so please, don’t give him all the credit when we both know that's not true.”

More silence. “Listen, I think I’m going to—”

“Turn him down and continue working with Checo?”

Your voice catches. “W-what?”

The Dutchman clicks his tongue, like he’s got you all figured out. Three conversations over the past three years and he thinks he has you all figured out? 

“I can’t say I blame you. You don’t think we’ll work well together, and quite frankly, I would agree. We wouldn’t. You’re too…nice.”

You have to laugh. “Is that supposed to be an insult?” 

“It’s supposed to be the truth,” he’s ricochets.

Turning towards his tall frame, you huff, hair washing over your face before faking a tight smile. “And you’re too…complicated.” Something about the way his gaze darkens at your words makes you want to back down like some shivering dog, but miraculously, you remain still. “And that’s not a compliment.”

“Didn’t sound like one.”

“Well because it’s not.”

He’s not too far from you, and honest to God, that made you shake more than you intended. There was something about him—there always was. Even though you never really worked close to him, you knew there was something there, hiding between the crease of his brows, and now, standing this close to him, you can see it all in a new perspective. 

Max releases a breath, bored and unexplainable. Runs a hand through his hair, turns his face for a second before connecting his gaze back to yours. “Look, you appear to be a sweet girl, but…I think you should turn down Christian’s offer.”

“Why?” He’s taken aback. You catch it the moment his lips twitch in the slightest. You tilt your head, urging him to answer. “You must have a reason, so what is it?”

“You’d hate working with me.”

“And you get to decide that?”

Max rolls his eyes. “Have you enjoyed this conversation so far?”

“No.”

“Then you probably wouldn’t enjoy our time either. And I’d just rather not waste my time on you finding out. No offense.”

“No, no, none taken,” you respond sarcastically. By now, Christian and Checo have spotted you both, secretly hoping there was some sort of friendship forming. They wave cheerfully and you mimic their movements. 

“I hope we get along—I really do,” you say with a smile as you wave enthusiastically over at Christian who lets out a whistle and sends you an excited thumbs up.

His jaw clenches.  

“If not, you’re really going to hate having me around.” 

-

By now, you’ve completely understood why every other person has quit on him. 

Your blood boils deep inside your veins for the millionth time in the past hour. His large hand covers his face as he continues speaking with his engineers. They all look back at you, half-amused, half-pitiful. They grimace when you try once again to get a picture of him, only to get shut down by him spinning around to make you face his back. 

“Unbelievable,” you mutter beneath your hot breath, glaring harshly to the point you feel a migraine growing, pounding the sides of your head. Marching off, you cross over to Checo’s side of the garage, watching as he discusses his strategies with a couple of his crew members. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he responds, flashing a bright smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Pleading for you to take me back?” He laughs, eyes crinkling, freckled nose scrunching with humor. “It feels like I’ve signed my life away.”

“Ah. Come on. It can’t be that bad. Give him some time.”

“It’s been a month!” you exclaim. “What more does he need?”

The Mexican driver’s eyes soften, feeling bad for the swap neither of you wanted, but knew was necessary. Checo knows how patient you can be, how sweet and caring you tend to act towards those you truly care about. And right now? He worries you won’t ever reach that point with Max. 

A heavy sigh. “Max isn’t much of a talker, you know that. But maybe—in order for him to get comfortable around you, he needs you to do something that the other photographers didn’t bother doing.”

Your stomach churns. “Like what?”

He smiles warmly. “Getting to know him.”

Maybe Checo was right. Maybe all Max needed was a friend—someone to talk to.

Sliding back to your side of the garage, you sheepishly walk over to the grumpy Dutchman. Currently, he’s sitting down on the floor, back pressed against the wall, scrolling through his phone. “C-c-can I talk to you?” you ask, nervous fingers lacing through the hoop of your jeans.

He doesn’t bother raising his gaze. “Can you even talk to begin with?”

“S-sorry?”

This time, he does look up, looking past his lashes. “Your stutter.”

Lamely, your mouth opens, only for you to find it drier than the Sahara Desert. The crack of your voice is a clear indication over your weak attempt to speak and that just makes you a blushing mess. Fuck him. You took several speech therapy classes to try and get rid of it, but him pointing out a stutter you thought has gotten better over time makes you want to be photographer number nine. 

You glare—hard. You mentally go over your dialogue and that itself makes you feel small. Embarrassed. So, instead…you don’t say anything at all.

There’s a reason no one likes to work with him.

And you think you just found out.

-

Some days are easier than others. Some days are harder.

Today? 

Today was awful.

“Jesus Christ, Max! What the fuck was that?” Jos yells, nearly pressing his face against the Red Bull driver who stands close by, watching him flinch in the slightest before regaining composure. You’ve heard rumors—plenty of them. Between mechanics, between Checo and a few other bystanders, you heard them all. How Jos’ behavior was unbearable to deal with, especially when it came to him and Max. You just never thought you’d witness it firsthand. 

“My brakes weren’t working,” he replies, holding eye contact that would have left you in a coma. “It was never my intention to crash.”

“See, you say that, and yet everytime I come and visit, you always seem to be messing up one way or another,” Jos hisses, face beet red, and a splash of saliva spraying over Max as he grits his teeth, taking a step back. “I’m confused—do you want to lose the Championship this year or what?”

“No,” the Red Bull driver fires back, firm and quick. Blue eyes translate to a darker shade as they look to where his dad wears a mocking smile. “I’m winning that title, don’t worry.”

Running a hand against his stubble, Jos rolls his eyes before releasing a tired breath. As if he’s the one working endless hours. As if he’s the one who just crashed against the wall at a terrifying speed he couldn’t decrease even if he tried. As if he’s the one with the bruised temple. 

Everything was just always about him. 

“Don’t bother resting until you figure out how to fix all the shit you’ve caused.” Sharp eyes narrow. “Got it?”

“Got it,” Max whispers, watching as he storms off without even saying goodbye to anyone else that wasn’t Christian himself. So much for having him around. Frustrated, he angrily yanks his gloves off, throwing them against the wall and walking the opposite direction.

Something tells you to leave him alone—let him be. You get why he’s upset, but you checking up on him probably wouldn't help. Also, you're supposed to be mad at him, right?

And yet.

“Wait up!” you gasp, out of breath. 

Clenching his jaw, he stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at you with accusing eyes. “Why are you following me?”

“I just…” Coming to a stop as well, you wince at your sudden side stitch. “He shouldn’t have yelled at you that way,” you finish, analyzing the way his body stiffens. “Especially in front of everyone.”

Blue orbs flicker past your figure for a second, then he lets out a lopsided smile. “I bet you enjoyed it, though. You know? Because I’ve sort of been acting like a dick towards you…” The small smile disappears, replaced with a thin line.

“I didn’t,” you find yourself admitting. His brows raise up with surprise, and even you’re surprised to be telling the truth. You should feel good about this moment—someone finally told him off, someone finally put him in his place. But you felt none of that satisfaction. If anything, you felt bad. Swiping your tongue against your lips, you purse them awkwardly. “And you haven’t been a dick. He has.”

And for the first time—he laughs. 

You blink, bewildered at the sound, but he doesn’t seem to notice that. “Like father, like son, right?” he jokes, making you feel like this was all some sort of fever dream. He continues, squatting down against the wall until he sits down completely against the cold pavement. “Your perspective about me has suddenly changed, or what?”

Hesitant, you choose to sit across from him, tucking your legs beneath your butt. His eyes close, smiling softly. Though I doubt it, he mumbles. “I just think I had you all wrong, that’s all.”

“Yeah?” he encourages. “Why?”

You swallow. “Well…because—now it all makes sense. Why you’re so cold towards everyone, I mean. You do get it from your dad, but it’s also not your fault.”

“My dads not the problem,” he hums. “I am.” Your legs are slowly becoming numb, buzzing like a thousand ants are crawling on them, but you don’t dare move an inch, scared of ruining the moment of him being so honest despite being allergic to it. “I let him down constantly and he’s just being…candid.” His eyes open, focused like he’s known you’ve been here all along, sitting across from him. “The issue here is that no one seems to get that. And that’s fine, but I do.”

“C-c-can I…” you cringe at the sound of your stutter, biting harshly down against your sore tongue. You expect him to laugh—make fun of you in any way possible—hold it over your head…but he doesn’t. Instead, he waits patiently for you to feel comfortable enough to continue your question. Your chest loosens up, along with your anxiety. You never thought he’d help with that. “C-can I ask you a q-q-que—”

“A question?” he finishes your sentence, you feeling immensely grateful. You nod. “Sure,” he answers.

Repeating the question over a couple of times, you find yourself feeling more and more comfortable around him and it’s only been a couple of minutes. “Why do you belittle me?”

There’s no way of hiding his shame now as his head hangs low, dirty blond hair hugging the sides of his face with a thin layer of sweat, a purple bruise forming due to his crash of high impact. A tsk. “I want you to know that I don’t hate you. Regardless of what you might think.”

You nod, paying close attention. 

He shrugs. “But I just don’t think we’ll work well together.”

“That’s it?” you ponder, genuinely lost. “You haven’t-t-t even given me a chance to prove myself. Maybe we can?” A beat. “Or maybe you’re not telling the w-whole truth.”

A playful scoff erupts from this throat, ignoring your comment. “You’re right. I haven’t given this a fair shot.” A calm look paints his normally stoic features. “And it doesn’t seem like you’ll be quitting anytime soon.” Reaching out to swat his race boot, you smile, eyes crinkling. The Dutchman chuckles. “So maybe we should start getting along, no?”

“I agree,” you comment, straightening your shoulders and extending your legs, instantly feeling a wave of relief from the pressure. “I-I-I’d like t-that.” Pause. Your smile stretches. “I’d like that very much.”

What you know now is obviously something you didn’t know back then.

So realistically, you fell into a friendship that ended like most.

Complete, utter disaster.

-

As time went on, Max started to change for the better. His glares turned into soft smiles, his monotone voice turned into something that was more untroubled. He was starting to become someone you consider a friend, and you couldn't help but wish he felt the same way too.

“Come out and have a drink with us,” you say, carefully cleaning your lens with the back of your shirt. He looks up from where he packs his things into a small duffel bag. You nod enthusiastically. “Come on, it’s my birthday and I want you there. Celebrate my birth, celebrate your win—it’ll be fun.”

“I don’t like to party,” he confesses, scrunching his nose like the thought alone makes him want to puke. “Never have, never will. Happy birthday, though.”

“You’re no fun,” you mumble, placing your camera back into your own bag. “I wish you’d be more fun.” A beat. “Wait. What do you do for fun?”

“I don’t have any. I just…live a quiet, peaceful life whenever I’m able to.” He throws his bag over his broad shoulder. “I like it better that way, anyways.” With that, he walks out of his driver's room.

Gathering the rest of your things quickly, you chase after him, struggling to keep up with his long strides. “It’s okay to have a quiet life if that’s something you want, but, I don’t know…” You turn the corner, soft hair whiplashing. “Aren’t you able to…well, put that aside for special occasions?”

“Like what? Your birthday?”

You blush heavily. “Well—no. But maybe yours? I know it’s coming up. What are you gonna do then? Stay home working on a crossword puzzle?”

“Not necessarily. Perhaps I’ll read a book, who knows.” Still walking towards his car, he momentarily turns back to look at you, watching as your cheeks glow bright pink. He smiles before turning back. “I’ll make sure to let you know.” Unlocking his car, he raises a brow. “You coming?”

“Can’t,” you pant softly. “Promised Checo that I’d help him find a gift for Carlota.”

“His daughter or his wife?”

Seeing as they share the same name, you can’t help but giggle. “I’m actually not sure.” Flashing one last smile, you wave sweetly. “I’ll make sure to let you know!”

He keeps his eyes on you, watching as you jog towards Checo who laughs as you trip over a nearby rock, nearly falling. Max laughs to himself, feeling an unfamiliar burst of happiness. But that all flies right out the window as soon as his phone buzzes deep inside his pocket, making him groan.

“Hey, Dad.”

-

He ends up texting for your birthday and you end up doing the same. You end up going out to party and he ends up staying home. Point is, you do exactly what you two said you were going to do, so when a last minute texts comes through at midnight, you’re low key appalled.

Max, 12:00pm

Are you home?

He knows where you live because you once told him. You’re just surprised he remembers.

Yeah? Where are you?

Max, 12:04pm

Come outside. Bring a sweater.

The ocean roars loudly as you two make your way closer towards the shore. The breeze is ice cold, but you aren’t complaining. He is, though.

“Shit. It’s freezing.”

A giggle. “Need a jacket, princess?”

Sending a deadpan expression, he shrugs you off, choosing to sit close enough to see the waves, but far enough to not get wet. “I don’t want you to make a big deal out of this, but…I got you something.”

“Max,” you coo, admiring the film camera he hands you as if it’s nothing. But it’s not nothing because when it comes to him it means everything. “This must’ve cost you a fortune,” you whisper, fingers tracing the rim of the black camera that shines against the moonlight. “You shouldn’t have.”

“And you shouldn’t have stuck around. But you did. So…thank you.” The tides grow louder, making him do the same. “I never really said it, but I’m grateful for having you as a friend.”

You freeze and he seems to notice what he said, too.

“Co-worker?” he tries, cringing.

You relax. “F-f-friend sounds better.”

And there it is again, that warmness that only seems to appear whenever you’re around. It should be alarming, but at this point it's not. If anything, it’s normal.

“Now I feel like shit,” you speak up, bumping your leg against his. He hums. “I didn’t get you anything for your birthday. And if you know anything about friendships, then you’d know that presents are a vital thing.”

“Don’t fret. I don’t need anything else other than…” he trails off. “How was your birthday, anyways?”

You don’t notice his sudden shift. Or maybe you did. Either way, he doesn’t know. You snort. “Got shit-faced, what else do you expect? Though, I faintly remember Abby kissing the bartender, so that was cool.” When he fails to recognize the name, you roll your eyes as if you’re dealing with a third grader. “Checo’s photographer? She’s awesome. Has her own car.”

It’s his turn to laugh now. “And you don’t?”

“Nope. But God, I wish. Maybe one day.” You dig your feet deeper into the sand, twisting your lips before smacking them as if that might help hydrate them. You squint an eye. “I’m barely home, so there’s really no need for one yet. I can sense you wondering.”

“I was,” he admits. Swallowing, he mimes your movements. “I’m barely home, either.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Do you?” he returns with no response.

You ponder. “I know I miss my parents. My sister. But other than that, no—maybe not.”

“I don’t either.”

“But I thought you were a homebody?” you accuse.

“Well, I am, but…I miss my home. The place I paid for with my own money.”

“What home don’t you miss, then?” 

“The one my parents tried to convince me and my sister that it was. We had all the family portraits and the typical white picket fence, but it just never felt like home to me. And I don’t miss that.”

“Oh.” Just oh. 

“Yeah,” he follows with a raspy voice. “Oh.”

Tugging the jacket closer to your chest, you shiver. Surely your nose is burning bright pink and your lips are chapped, but nothing felt better than this moment for some reason. “I don’t like your dad,” you mumble beneath your breath, hoping the wind would hide your confession, but if it didn’t, you wouldn’t care.

It didn’t. 

Scoffing, Max nods. “Yeah. Me neither.”

“I don’t like the way he speaks to you. It’s not—normal.” A beat. “Do you think it is?”

“I do,” he hums, blinking slowly as he watches the way a bird gets caught in the wind, trying to lurch forward but only getting sent back. “You get used to it.”

“You shouldn't have to,” you whisper, brows pinched up with concern. “I know I said you were a complicated person, but you’re not. And—and I just don’t want you to think that it’s true.”

He’s the first to disconnect his eyes from yours, feeling a burning sensation forming in the depths of his throat. It’s not completely unknown, he’s felt it many times when he was a kid. The only difference was that he used to feel it behind his eyes as well. Which is why it catches him off guard this time around—years later. 

“You’re not like him, Max,” you say with reassurance. Blue eyes soften up, feeling a rush of emotions. This is something he didn’t even know he needed. Tilting his head, he opens his mouth lamely, words getting stuck like a boy and not a man. You smile tenderly. “And I hope you know that.”

He drives you back home that night despite saying you’d be fine walking back. You fall asleep for the next thirty-minutes, and he overthinks through all of it. Fingers tap against the steering wheel, taking occasional glances to where you breath softly. 

“I told you to bring a sweater,” Max groans once you enter his car. “You’re going to freeze to death.”

You wave him off. “I think I’ll survive.”

As soon as you arrive at the beach, you’re quick to rub your hands against your skin, wishing to have some sort of blanket. With a knowing look, the Dutchman rolls his eyes, slipping off his jacket and placing it over your shoulders. 

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Thanks,” you say, biting the inside of your cheek, suppressing a smile. 

Hearing his teeth chatter, he blows his cheeks out, squinting his eyes when a particular gust of wind slaps him across the face. “Shit. It’s freezing.”

“Need a jacket, princess?” you tease, enjoying the way his lips form a snarl. 

You giggle.

It’s his favorite jacket, the one you’re wearing.

It’s his favorite because of that.

“I’m fucked,” he whisphers to himself, grinding his teeth until he feels them squeak. He tries to focus on the road, but that seems to be the most difficult task in the world when he has you right besides him. And he isn’t thinking anything sinisterly dirty—he’s not—but instead, he’s dreaming.

I can be different, he thinks to himself, repeating the same words over and over. I can be someone she likes. If I try hard enough, I can do that. Planning ahead was always something he hated, but just thinking about it now makes his veins rush with excitement. As if the possibility of you might exist somewhere down the line.

You said some things he never thought he’d hear, because to be quite honest, he never thought someone would understand him the way you have. For the longest time, he thought a fucked up person like him could only get with an equally fucked up person or simply he’d have to live by himself for the rest of his life.

And here you came, proving him wrong.

He doesn’t realize how fast he’s going, how he’s pressing hard on the gas. Not until you groan. “Fuck. Are you alright?” he asks with concern as soon as he hears your head thud against the window from his jerky turn at the roundabout. 

“Yeah.” A beat, then a giggle. You rub your head. “This is gonna bruise.” He winces, taking a glance. Keep your eyes on the road, you laugh, but he can’t. Not when your eyes crinkle the way they do. Like your eyes have a dimple of their own. He’s never seen that on anyone else. “We’ll be twins,” you state as some sort of lame joke. And it does the job because he’s quick to let out a chuckle. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes. 

“Don’t worry about it.”

Pulling up to your house, you go in to unbuckle yourself before slipping the jacket off. He shakes his head. “Keep it.”

“That wouldn’t make any sense,” you try. “I’m already home, I’ll be fine. Put it on.”

“Well I’m not cold anymore,” he pushes back. “It’s fine, really. I have plenty—what’s one missing?”

“It's freakishly soft,” you debate, furrowing your brows with concentration. “Okay. Thanks, Max.” Grabbing your film camera, you let out a shy smile. “For this too. Just—for these past few hours. I had fun.”

“Yeah,” he hums gingerly, running his hand along the steering wheel. “So did I.”

This grabs your attention, ears perking up like some German Shepard. “Am I dreaming? Did Max Verstappen just say he had fun? With me?” you interrogate, eyes shining. 

He groaned, tossing his head against his seat. “I take it back—”

“You can’t do that—”

“I take it back,” he repeats firmly, but the amusement poured into his accent tells you otherwise. “Now get out of my car.”

You poke your tongue out at him before raising your hands up defensively. “Drive safe,” you shout over your shoulder as you walk towards your house, backward. “Oh! I almost forgot to ask!” Rushing to his side of the car, you signal for him to roll his window. He does, quirking a brow. You grin. “Let me take you out.”

His heart thuds. Pulses. Skyrockets. 

It’s a scary feeling. 

You beam. “Yes! As your birthday present! Let me take you out. Just you and I.”

“You and I?” he repeats robotically, blinking with round eyes. 

A nod. “Yeah. Just like today. You took me out and gave me an amazing gift. Let me do the same for you.” Pause. “Please?”

It dawns on him that this is the first time a girl has asked him to hang out. Whether it’s romantic or not, it doesn’t matter, and the way you bat your cartoon eyes makes him spiral, feeling his breath hitch. “Y-y-yeah,” he finds himself saying. “Sure. Why not?”

“You only turn twenty-seven once,” you hum. Like that might seal the deal besides the fact that he’s already accepted.

The Dutchman chuckles nervously, fighting the urge to just…God.

“You only turn twenty-seven once,” he agrees, sharing a tight smile, hands gripping the leather wheel. 

-

Your plans end up getting pushed back due to your guys’ tight agenda. The season is tough on not just him, but the entire team. McLaren is thriving, sometimes more than Red Bull, and that has everyone feeling on edge.

Chewing your nails, you watch as Lando crosses the finish line, nearly a minute ahead from the Dutchman. You know he’s not going to want to talk about it, but he will. He has to. 

Because Jos is here.

“You’re getting quite comfortable on that second step,” Jos says tauntingly. He’s not yelling—not like the other times—and somehow, that just makes him scarier.

“I’m not,” Max defends as he rubs a sweaty hand against his face. His hair is longer than usual, so that doesn’t help the awkwardness he feels when he has to push it back. “We still did good—”

“Good is not good enough,” he hisses, pressing a finger against his son's suit, making him take a step back before he regains composure. “Unless it is. For you, I mean.” Silence. “So what? Is it?”

“No,” Max mumbles, fighting the urge to push him back. He’s thought about it—many times. And maybe he’s reached his limit, and maybe he can do it…

But he’d never dare to in front of you.

Blue eyes quietly plead for you to leave. And yes. That would be the wisest thing to do right about now, but your feet betray you. They’re super glued, you begin to suspect. Why else would you not be able to move?

“You used to be so good,” Jos points out, eyes only getting sharper. “What happened? What’s distracting you? Who’s distracting you?”

Max’s eyes flicker for a second—just a fucking second—to where you stand, paralyzed, and he prays he doesn’t notice it. But he does. 

Turning to face your small figure, Jos lets out a shallow laugh, a confused expression mapping his wrinkled face. “Are you serious?”

“I—” Max tries, but is waved off by his massive hand. 

“A crush isn’t going to get you anywhere, Max, come on, you know this.” Jos rubs his eyes, aging quickly. “Especially with a girl like her.”

“I-I-I,” you stutter, feeling your face grow red. Swiftly, this makes you feel as dumb as when you first met Max, but somehow worse. 

A million times worse. 

“Y-y-you what?” Jos mocks your stutter, walking closer to where you stand. “You what?”

“H-h-he doesn't like me. So, there’s no need to…w-w-w—”

“Worry,” Max fills in, marching to stand in between you two, and you immediately feel your shoulders relax, but your breath continues to struggle to find its way out of your system. “There’s no need to worry. I just had a bad race, it happens. It’s no one’s fault.”

“Except it is!” Jos finally screams, spraying his saliva with every punctuation, something you’ve come to realize happens when he gets fired up, which nearly occurs every time he's here. The only difference is that this time, you’re caught in between the argument. Jos breathes heavily, chest puffing. “It's someone's fault, and I’ll lay it out for you since you can’t seem to take responsibility—it’s your fault.”

“No, it’s not,” you protest from behind Max, feeling courage quickly expand through your ribs because you knew that wasn’t true. “It’s no one’s fault.”

But someone like you is invisible to someone like Jos Verstappen. 

Ignoring you, he gets rid of that last step that separates Max from himself, faces inches apart from one another. And it’s terrifying how similar they are. Their eyes, their nose, their lips. The only thing separating them from being twins was Max’ kindness.

“Say it’s your fault,” Jos orders with a solid and demanding tone. “Say the crash was your fault and that you fucked up.”

You’re breath catches once again, frantic eyes darting to where Max clenches his fists before letting them relax.

“The crash was my fault—”

“It's all your fault,” Jos adds.

The Red Bull drivers lips twitch. “The crash was all my fault…” A beat. “And I fucked up.”

“Max,” you whisper, gingerly grabbing his hand. He flinches at your touch and pulls away as soon as his dads eyes linger down to where you two connect. You wither.

“Get your act together,” Jos threatens with fury before walking out, slamming the door behind him.

You jump at the unexpected sound. No one speaks, no one moves, no one dares to acknowledge what just happened.

Max Verstappen lands second on this week's podium, Crofty announces, pulling you away from the daze you were stuck in. Max’s gaze switches over to the T.V. as he stiffens. Say, what are the chances he wins this year's Championship against Lando Norris who seems to be having the time of his life in that McLaren? 

“You did good out there—”

“No. I didn’t.” He looks away. “But that won’t matter because that Championship is mine.”

Mine.

-

You notice he’s reverted back to his old habits the moment he gets snappy. The moment he starts blocking everyone out, including you. You sort of saw it coming, but still—it hurt. And it took you a moment to realize, realize why it burned so much.

You loved Max Verstappen.

He’d always been unapproachable. Spine-chilling, even. But ever since you two started talking to each other as more than strangers, you realize he was none of that. He had once been kind, once been sweet, but this was all Jos’ fault. Weeks went by—months, even—and all you ever really did was snap pictures of him on the stimulator. That’s it.

It’s as if your friendship never even existed.

It came as no surprise when he failed to pick up your phone calls and texts. He was awfully good at doing that. By the time you were a month away from the Championship, you had stopped trying.

Max can feel the awkward tension he had created. It sat there between you two every time you followed after him like a dog on a leash, timidly taking his picture, afraid of getting the wrong reaction out of him. It had happened a couple of times in the past, when you first started working for him, so it seemed you were trying to prevent history from repeating itself. The slight sting in his chest took a jab at him every time without fail.

Vegas was typically a good time for both the drivers and people like you. You’d be the first to admit how easy it is to get lost in the gist of it all. 

Except this time around, it was hard to live through it.

-

Hey. You home?

Max groans, rubbing his eyes until they’re wide awake, picking up his phone. 

Max, 12:00pm

Are you okay?

A minute scrolls by. 

I have your present. 

The first thing he notices is his jacket. His initials are sewn onto the sleeve. He didn’t even know that was a thing, but the sight of it made his stomach flip. “Looks good on you,” he compliments as soon as he enters your car. You chuckle. 

It’s a nice jacket. The best one I own.

He notes how smooth you drive, like a grandma. You’re precise with your turns, ahead with your signals—extremely observant. 

“See how I steer the wheel,” you speak up, wiggling a neat brow. “Unlike you.”

“I said I was sorry,” he laughs, getting a reminder of the last time you two were together. “How’s the bruise?”

“Nearly gone.” A beat. “How’s yours?”

He smiles, remembering about his own. “Nearly gone.”

“Told you we’d be twins.”

You take him to a nearby park. It’s lame, I know, you apologize, wincing shyly. I’m not good at this, but I hope your present makes up for it.

“This is great,” he eases your nerves, seeing how they scribble across your face. “This is my first time at a playground, actually.”

Your eyes widen as soon as you sit down on the yellow swing. “You’re kidding, right?”

He shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Huh.”

He takes a seat on a nearby swing, following your soft kicks against the sand. “My dad preferred to have me on the race track than waste my time on anything else.”

This gets an eye roll out of you, soft wind fanning your face as you kick back and forth. “That explains it all.” He shuts his eyes momentarily, enjoying the silence. Far enough away, he can hear the city—but that’s the least of his worries.

You’re the first and only one to give me a childhood so late in life. Round eyes flicker towards him where he digs his shoes into the sand, not worried about the uncomfort it'll cause. If it weren’t for you, I probably would’ve gone my whole life without knowing what a playground is like.

The thought alone is saddening. Your mind makes up an image of young Max, looking into the distance at every other kid who runs towards slides and monkey bars as he straps his helmet and slips on his gloves, longing to know what it’s like to have a normal youth. 

“Don’t feel bad.”

Your lip wobbles. “Don’t make me feel things, then. Why would you say that?”

“I thought we could open up to one another,” he jokes, but you can hear his seriousness in it. That’s all he’s needed, after all—someone to talk to. “Should I shut up from here on out?”

“No,” you reply rapidly, gripping your hand around the metal chain. “Don’t you ever shut up.”

His smile relaxes, eyes opening as he tilts his head, then looks up ahead at the moon. And it’s one of those nights where it’s scarily white—almost too much. One might think it’s a flashlight, by the way it shines, but there’s a clarity to it that makes it easy to admire. “I don’t think I love my dad.”

 You try not to let out a reaction. “You don’t mean that.”

“No…” He clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “I think I do.” A shrug. “I respect him. A tiny bit, but I do. But love?” A bitter scoff. “God, I don’t even think he loves me.”

“Sure he does—”

“He loves my success,” he cuts you off. “And it’s embarrassing how everybody knows it.”

Neither of you are swinging anymore. Gathering your thoughts, you look down at your lap, inspecting your dirty shoes. “If it helps, I love you, Max.” In a heartbeat, his blue eyes dart towards you, seeing the way you breathe evenly. “Is that surprising to you?” He doesn’t answer. He couldn't answer. And boy did he want to. Smiling tenderly, you nod. “It’s not that hard, really.” You begin to swing again, as if you didn’t just drop the biggest bomb on him that left his heart in his throat, beating at an abnormal speed. “Not when you’re so patient with me.”

The chain squeaks, making him snap out of his daze, blinking harshly. “I hate my stutter. I’ve had it tugging at my leg since I was eight. Don’t know what caused it, but it’s been there, trust me. So, when you made fun of it a while back, I thought to myself: this guy is a real douchebag.”

Shame pours within him as he recalls that interaction. Checo had told him about his photographer's stutter and how hard it was to hold a conversation with her at first, but the longer they worked together, the more he found it endearing. And that’s exactly what Max felt the moment you became his photographer at a stage in his life where he still didn’t know you all that well other than the fact that you carried your camera like a newborn baby. 

“I’m so—”

“Don’t be,” you cut him off. “I don’t hold grudges. Plus, you’re quite helpful now that you’re used to my stammering, don’t you think?”

Guilt fuels him as he apologizes with his eyes. “I shouldn’t have mocked you. Ever.”

“Probably.” A hum. “But the way you read my mind makes up for it.”

He’s been doing a lot of that, without even realizing it. He concludes your sentences without batting an eye about the words you’re trying to get out, trying to express. And in all fairness, you hadn’t noticed it either, not until Checo pointed it out.

That’s how normal it had become.

“My stutter was my number one insecurity growing up.” Connecting your gaze back to where he’s already looking, you draw your eyebrows in with gentleness. “And you made it go away.”

Before he can think his words through, he opens his mouth. “I love your stutter.”

You blink, bewildered at the comment. Then—you laugh.

“Thanks?” Your volume increases. “Never heard that one before.”

Screwing his eyes shut, he shakes his head, grimacing at the sound of his voice replaying inside his crowded mind. 

“What I’m trying to say is that I love you,” he rambles, much faster and correctly this time, making you stop your laughter, eyes going wide once again. “Is that surprising to you?” he whispers, awaiting a response with anxiety dripping from his fingertips that clench around the chain that loops around the swing, giving it security. 

“You mean as friends, right?” you ask carefully, making his stomach drop.

“I don’t think friends think about each other the way I think about you,” he confesses, out of breath by the sudden shift he’s caused. “I see you differently.”

As soon as your lips part to say something, he pleads silently as if saying: please, just hear me out. And that’s exactly what you do.

He’s standing right in front of you now, pacing back and forth like some football coach as you watch him like a clueless cheerleader who sits on the sidelines. He clears his throat after a lengthy minute.

“I noticed you first when you walked into your interview four years ago.”

Your mind races back to a moment in time where your camera was significantly cheaper and your dreams were larger than life. 

He nods, watching as you recollect the memories that were tucked in the far back of your brain, like it didn’t matter for the longest time, which to be fair, it hadn’t.

“You were supposed to be my photographer.”

Your brows furrow, completely lost by his words. “What?”

His large hands run through his shaggy hair from his slumber that you had ripped him away from. “From the very beginning, it was supposed to be you and me. But…” 

Neat brows narrow down harder. “But what?”

Max stops his pace, killing his tracks that lands him right in front of you looking up at him with innocent eyes. He sighs. “I said I didn’t want you working with me.”

“Oh.” A beat. “It’s always been this way, then? You not wanting me near you?”

“For a while,” he says quickly before cringing. “But now that we’ve worked together, I realize the mistake I made. How many years it could’ve been us…”

“What’s the real reason?”

Flinching, he squirms under your focus. “What?”

You nod, encouraging him. “You always said it was because you didn’t think we would work well together, and look at us now—we have.” Leaves rustle from the dozen of trees that wrap around the park. “What was the actual reason?”

He’s known the answer to this question from the moment you joined the team, more specifically, Checo’s. He knew the answer to the question the moment he crossed that finish line, claiming his first Championship like the greedy man he was carved out to be by his own father.

He’s just not sure how you’d take it. Coughing awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck, he avoids eye contact. “I knew you’d distract me.”

Your stomach twists like a licorice. “Oh God—have I?”

“No!” he yelps, but the defense he guards up like a soldier lets you know that that’s nowhere close to being true. You shrink, increasing the distance between you two. His palms begin to sweat. “You haven’t—”

“Your dad was right,” you whisper. “I have been a distraction to you. That’s why you’ve been having such a weird season compared to the previous ones…”

“No,” he presses firmly. “The car has changed, that’s why I’ve been driving differently, it has nothing to do with you.”

But you don’t seem to engage with his words, instead, you shake your head like an angry child who never gets their way at the candy store. “How can you love me when I’m the reason your dad puts you down every chance he gets?”

It’s like you forced your fingers in at an open wound, one he tends to forget is there when he’s with you, but when you mention it's existence, he remembers why he dreads it so much. 

“He talks to me like that because he’s a shitty dad, not because of you,” he says, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. “I liked you the second year I won my Championship. The first time you said my name.”

“Congrats, Max,” you say with an awkward smile after you pull away from an even more awkward hug. “You did good.”

“I was infatuated by you the third year I won my Championship.”

“You can’t keep firing your photographers,” Christian lectured him with a tired voice, making his accent sound ten times stronger. “Especially when we don’t even have their replacement.”

“I haven’t found one I like,” he says as he watches you walk by, heading towards Checo with a bright smile, bragging about a recent setting that puts your old photos to shame. He looks away when you turn towards his garage, as if you felt his eyes on you. “It’s not my fault.”

“No, young man, it is,” the team principal presses, letting out a tired sigh. “You need to mature with the idea of having one, if not—”

“If not what?”

“If not…uh…we’ll…” Christian looks around for a while before turning back to the Dutchman. “We’ll have to take a different approach.”

“Yeah?” Max questions with amusement. “Which is?”

Christian shrugs. “Swapping Checo’s photographer with yours.”

This makes the Dutch physically recoil. “I’ve told you a thousand times already—it would never work out. She’s too…happy all the time.”

“And maybe that’s exactly what you need.”

Max lets out a shaky breath, watching your chest rise and fall as if you find it harder to breathe with every passing second. 

“And I haven’t won my fourth,” he begins with a light smile and an even lighter tone. “But I already know that I love you.”

This is it. The last smile of his. Of that soft dimple of his that caught you by surprise the first time you saw it. It's the last time because you know that whatever happens after is going to ruin it all.

“I love you—”

“I don’t.”

His lips run dry, forcing a small chuckle like he didn’t hear you right. “I’m—I’m.” He smiles hesitantly. “B-but you said…” No more wind circles around you. “You said it.”

“I know.” You wince, brushing your hair back, annoyed with it by now. “I know I did, but…Max. I didn’t mean it in that way.”

The blue eyed Dutch takes a step backward, noting the uncomfortableness the sand is causing his feet to feel now that the adrenaline is gone. “What do you mean?” he murmurs with embarrassment. “What do you mean?”

Licking your lips, you focus on a tree that stands behind him, how fucked up looking it was. As if someone stabbed it over and over again until it bled wood chips.

“I do love you—but as a friend.”

“Why, though?”

“Friendships last longer,” you respond, like you’ve had the answer sitting on the tip of your tongue for the longest time now. “Relationships don’t.”

“Ours could,” he tries, feeling pathetic. “I’m good at everything. I bet I’ll be good at a relationship, too.”

“A relationship is not a game, Max,” you argue, your voice slightly raising, making him clench his jaw. “And I’m sure you think it is because you're such a perfectionist, but it’s not that easy. There’s a lot of dedication that goes into it.”

“Then I’ll be dedicated to you,” he says. “Heart, body, and soul. I swear. Just—give me a chance.”

“I can’t…”

“But why not?”

“Because all I see is a friend!” you shout, regretting it instantly. His skin loses its natural color, switching to a ghostlike state. His pink lips snap shut like a bear trap. And his furrowed brows revert back to their usual place. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you massage your temples that suddenly feel painful.

“We’re so different from one another, Max. Your life is written down, from birth to death. And you know you’ll live a good one. And mine—mine is constantly changing. I mean, look at it. A few months ago I was working with your teammate and now…” 

He remains silent, patiently watching your lips move with every word that pinches his feelings like the biggest bully. “The love I hold for you is there…but not the same way yours is there for me. Your life moves fast, and I’m barely even able to keep up with a conversation with this fucking stutter that appears most times with others, but very few with you.”

Still nothing. Just his eyes focused on this jacket now, like he's already reclaiming it. “And I really do thank you for that, I do. But I thank you the most for letting me get to know you for who you really are. Not who you pretend to be or what others say you are—and I wish I could reciprocate, but…I just… don’t.”

An eternity passes by, it feels like. He doesn’t even know how long you two have been standing here now, but the sunrise is a clear indication that it’s been forever. And he doesn’t feel tired, nor does he feel upset…

He just feels dumb. 

“I get it,” he finally speaks up. “We view each other differently and that’s not your fault.”

“Yeah, but—”

“It's not your fault,” he repeats, wearing a warm smile, hoping you'd believe his lie. That and he doesn’t think he can handle much more. All he wants to do is go back home. “I’m just glad I had someone to talk to for a while. And, well—I’m sorry. I must have gotten confused by the situation. Maybe I don’t love you, who knows. I probably just got excited, you know? Went my whole life without having an interaction like ours, maybe I’m convincing myself to believe in something that was never there to begin with. For either of us, that is.”

I just got excited, is all. 

-

He did end up winning his fourth Championship the way he said he would. You did end up taking that perfect picture as he stood on that podium, shining as bright as his golden trophy. Jos was happy, Christian was happy, the entire team was happy, but you and Max?

Blue eyes lock with yours, feeling the differenceness between it all. He still loves you, he realizes. He wasn’t confused after all. But neither were you.

All you saw was your best friend, and now you’re not even sure you have one anymore. You two no longer hang out, you barely even speak to one another despite spending most of your days together. He still smiles at you from time to time, but it’s not the same. Nothing could ever be.

And it was a soul crushing thing to realize.

“Congratulations,” you muffle against his race suit as you hug him without your arms fully wrapping around him and his hardly wrapping around you. “This is your moment, Max.” A beat. “No one else’s.”

You’re talking about his dad. He knows that. 

Chuckling, he nods. Like he’s sure of that now. That all his success is his, and his alone. That you have finally managed to matter the most in his life—not his trophies, not his father’s respect.

You.

Pulling away, he still feels your invisible hug linger on him in a way he can’t explain and neither could you. You dig into your pocket, pulling out a silver bracelet. 

“Your birthday gift.”

Right. You never got the chance to give it to him after the last real conversation you two ever had. After that, both of you ignored the fact it ever even happened, and in a way, he was grateful for that, but that didn’t stop it from stinging. Looking down at it, he reads the engravement, feeling his heart take a last lap.

To my favorite open book. With love.

He laughs, clutching his fist around it. “I’m nowhere close to being an open book, but…thanks. I love it.”

You giggle, eyes crinkling with tears as you brush them away. “Not at first, but—eventually. It takes time.”

The cheers rise, but neither of you acknowledge them. Not even when they chant his name, over and over.

“You’ve peeled me,” he admits, nearly whispering. “Completely.” Your breath hitches, sucking in that breath that cost to take in. Max shrugs with a gentle grin. “You’ve peeled the lemon,” he jokes with a shaky breath of his own, blue eyes switching to a darker shade that makes your limbs go weak. “So—do your fingers burn?”

You force a laugh. The kind that makes your head tilt just a bit before tippy toeing to give him a proper kiss on the cheek. He goes still.

“I wish they did. That’d make my decision much easier to go through.”

With that, you step away, the Dutch immediately being over taken by journalists, photographers, the FIA, the drivers—everyone except the only person he really wants there celebrating with him.

His mind is racing faster than his Championship winning car. What decision? What could you possibly mean by that—

Christian embraces him, ruffling his sweaty hair as he pours a bottle of champagne over his head, laughing with glory. Max shakes his head, leaning down to ask the only question that ever made his heart break before he ever even got a response.

“Did she quit?”

Christian knows exactly who she is, but what catches him by surprise is how agitated he appeared to suddenly get. The team principal shrugs. “We’ll find you a new one!” 

“No,” Max whispers in disbelief as he tries to find you from a distance, but all he sees are flashing lights that begin to cut his patience thin. “No.”

I wanted her.

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious@notkaryna

MEETING SERIES | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | ask me anything or let's talk! history series (sebastian vettel series saga)

sebastian vettel x toro rosso intern!reader | based on 2008 f1 season

for more information to the reader: ❥ this series is the first volume of history series, that goes through the story of seb and y/n during their 15 years formula 1 journey ❥ i wouldn't say this first part has exactly a defined trope, but it is a slightly friends to lovers and right person, wrong time and love triangle (or even square) ❥ some parts might include sensitive content. pay attention to trigger warnings at the beginning of each part. ❥ english is not my first language so apologies for any mistakes that you can read here! ❥ DRIVER X OC VERSION AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD SOON

started: SEPTEMBER 3RD 2024 currently status: on going | last updated: september 3rd masterlist under the cut !

taglist: [feel free to tell me so you don't miss anything!]

a/n: i don't have enough words to talk about history series... i absolutely love it, and i hope you do as much as i do because I started writing it in the worst moment of my life. these characters and this story is literally a piece of me, of the most intimate one. hope you like this one and remember, feedback and your comments are truly appreciated <3

SEBASTIAN VETTEL HAD BECOME A RISING STAR, AND NO ONE DOUBTED IT. Since he was a child, the young German had wanted to participate in the highest category of motorsport. With a lot of effort not only on his part but also from his parents, and even with the support of his idol, Michael Schumacher, the boy gradually advanced through the different motorsport categories until he finally secured the much-desired position of test driver for BMW Sauber in 2006. A year later, to his surprise, he was not only part of Formula 1 as the third driver of that team, but also replacing Robert Kubica after his catastrophic accident, and signing his first contract as a driver for the Toro Rosso team from July onwards the following year.

Y/N Y/L/N WAS BECOMING INCREASINGLY AWARE THAT HER DREAMS DID NOT SEEM AS ATTAINABLE AS SHE HAD FIRST BELIEVED. The Austrian saw her life change in the blink of an eye following the death of her mother. As if losing someone as important as the woman who gave her life wasn’t enough, the absence of her father, despite still being present, deeply affected her. The girl, responsible for taking care of her two younger sisters and working wherever she had the chance to so she could to keep her family from falling apart, saw the perfect opportunity to join the motorsport world when her university offered her the chance to apply for an internship program that Scuderia Toro Rosso Formula 1 would launch the following year. Fearful of rejection, but knowing she already had a "no" by default, Y/N decided to apply and was quite surprised to be accepted.

However, the fairy tale Y/N believed she would live at the start of March 2008 was not what she had initially thought. Becoming just another member of the team, but constantly being overlooked; wanting to participate in any opportunity given to her, but never receiving one… instead, the opposite simply because she was a woman and a Mechanical Engineering student. The exception to all of this? Sebastian Vettel, who seemed particularly interested in doing everything possible to ensure that girl was not merely a spectator in that circus… even if it meant putting his personal life, and especially his relationship with his girlfriend, at risk.

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

MEETING MASTERLIST

01. WELCOME TO TORO ROSSO!: y/n arrives to the formula 1 paddock for the first time in her life after being accepted as an intern in the toro rosso internship program and meet not only one, but two german drivers that have quite particular and different interests in her

02. WE CAN BE FRIENDS: toro rosso hosts a welcome party during the malayan gp. y/n feels so bad for going and, for the first time in less than two week being there, she feels like she doesn't belong there... until seb tries to make her feel like home

03. ARE YOU OK?: after having an incident with seb's race engineer and seb not being able to help, y/n goes on a date with nico rosberg and things turn out to be quite different from what she imagined

04. SO... APRIL 27TH?: once again, seb dnfs during the bahrain gp. however, this helps him to think about how can he surprise his favourite girl on the paddock for her upcoming birthday

05. BIRTHDAY SURPRISES: without having not expectations of having a good birthday, seb ends up making y/n the happiest girl on earth when he gives her the most incredible birthday surprise she could have ever asked for... especially the race being held in cataluña, her second home

06. WHO'S Y/N?: seb is announced as a red bull driver for the upcoming 2009 to surprise of everyone but, to surprise of hanna, she finds out who's y/n... sort of

07. YOU'RE BACK!: after disappearing from the paddock for four months straight, y/n is back, surprising seb but, at the same time, her being disappointed at him

08. ARE YOU SURE, SEBASTIAN VETTEL?: y/n knows she doesn't belong to formula 1 world anymore, but the only thing that keeps her going is seb. seb, however, is in some trouble as he didn't only get the first pole position of his career, but also he's feeling confused about y/n, her friend for six months, and hanna, her girlfriend for two years

09. FIRST VICTORY: not giving a shit about getting in some trouble, y/n decides to step up and ends up acting like a race engineer for seb because after all he tried to do for her, she can't see him losing a race once again

10. THERE'S A REASON WHY YOU LIED: seb is so happy about his first victory, but as soon as hanna asks him who's the girl that's next to him in pictures that were taken that same morning, he knows he's in big trouble for hiding her who really is y/n

11. SORRY: y/n is told that by the end of the season she won't be a part of the toro rosso team anymore. seb, as soon as he finds out, and as a future red bull driver for the upcoming season, sets himself the goal of not letting y/n go in every single aspect of his life

12. GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET: last race of the season and, also, last time y/n and seb are seeing each other... for now

13. I WANNA BE THERE, WITH YOU: seb comes back home and, as soon as he sees hanna, he knows that things with her won't be the same anymore

14. SHE DESERVES A CHANCE: seb, trying to make up his mind and not to jump on conclusions, has a meeting with red bull with only one goal for him: make them know that y/n is more than worth enough of being a race engineer intern in their team for the upcoming season

15. YOU'LL FIND ME IN THE STARS: y/n receives the best and worst news ever during christmas, not knowing that she's about to go through the worst time of her life and there's nothing she can do about the damage she's gonna suffer from everyone... including seb

Formula 1 Fic Recs

Mark Webber

papaya family @beiasluv

Lando Norris

don't you ever grow up @beiasluv

my introvert girl @mirohlayo

taking care of you @uglyducklingofthe2000s

safe with me, love @norrizzandpia

champion to your heart @brorarri

when? @norrizzandpia

get his ass! @lewisvinga

lando norris who.. @verstappen-cult

moles @norrisleclercf1

vicious @azulpitlane

bad blood @astonmartinii

welcome interruptions @nathaslosthershit

birthday @silverstonesainz

my model, my inspiration, my muse, my everything @foreveralbon

had enough @vivwritesfics

brownies? @gentlyweeps-world

hugs! @julyretrograde

keep her safe @eternally-racing

car shopping @jaeeyaaasworld

leaftapes pt2 @planete777

driving lessons @alltoowelltom

i see ur face @uglyducklingofthe2000s

milk n honey @auggieblogs

affection @cl6teen

meme @maplesyrupsainz

delusional @xhopelesslyromanticx

shes kinda hot tho @l4nd0n0rr1s

you're such a dream to me @prettylittlels

the first time @norrizzandpia

no risk. no loss. @uglyducklingofthe2000s

Oscar Piastri

arrow and papaya @beiasluv

surprise @planetpiastri

Charles Leclerc

helmets for his and hers @lorarri

your #1 wag @lovecanyon

say don't go pt2 @landitolover

Disneyland @hemmingsleclerc

the other driver @leclerclov3

let you break my heart again @sofs16

eclairs n leclercs @hamiltvns

i can see u @luviemax

unaware @vivwritesfics

Max Verstappen

hard launch @archiverstappen

ending the war @princepiastri

bestie @chillielo

F1 Grid

secret santa @auggieblogs

6th Part of the Digital Portfolio:

Unfolding the Emerging Facets of the Self

now that i’ve found you, i can’t let you go 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x alonso!reader

SUMMARY: you never imagined that a silly crush from 2018 would turn into something years after or you and lando are just idiots in love, and letting the nerves gets the better of you every time.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: can’t believe i just wrote a story that’s over 10k hdhfhdhd i’ll be inactive until next week (or until i’m done with my midterms). remaining requests will be done after my midterms. hope you’ll enjoy this one! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 10.6k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, photos and videos are taken from pinterest, single dad!nando, no use of y/n, overthinking, anxiety, google translated spanish, reader has no socmed accs, and idiots in love

You had always understood the reason why your father, Fernando, had kept you out of the spotlight. The media could be ruthless and vile, and being his only daughter, he wanted to protect you from the harsh glare that came with being associated with his world, and truth be told, you were very grateful for it. Just the thought of being under constant scrutiny would always make your skin crawl. You had always preferred the quiet life, the privacy, and to just focus on your studies. After all, you had spent the last several years pouring your energy into earning your degree in International Relations at the National University of Singapore.

The only time you had ever come to the paddock with Fernando was back in 2018, during his last season in F1. He had decided that he would leave F1 for a while because he wanted to take on bigger challenges outside of F1. That was also the first time you met Lando Norris, the bright-eyed young driver who would go on to replace your father’s vacated seat. You remembered that day clearly—Lando’s easy smile, the playful way he joked around the garage. You were shy, as always, but there was something about him that drew you in like a moth to a flame. You had managed to develop a small, harmless crush on him, a fleeting thought that never went beyond that single interaction with him. Then, you disappeared from the paddock, along with it are also your feelings for Lando, and began burying yourself in university life.

But now, here you were again, stepping into the paddock for the first time in years, a full-fledged adult, and very much out of your comfort zone. Fernando had invited you to join him for the season, and after much internal debate, you agreed. You had missed your father, not to mention that you weren’t there for him when he scored his first podium after seven years back in 2021, and you knew how much he wanted you to be a part of his world, even for just a short while. Yet, as you walked alongside Fernando, you felt a familiar knot of nerves tighten in your stomach. The cameras, noise, bustle—it was all overwhelming for you.

Fernando must have sensed your anxiety because he gently placed an arm around your shoulders. “You alright, princesa?” He said softly, voice calm and familiar. “Yeah, just…a lot of people.” You admitted softly, eyes darting around at the bustling crowd.

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning in closer, “remember that time when I visited you in Singapore, when we got lost looking for that restaurant, and I almost walked into a fountain?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory. “You were so confident about the directions too, compared to your daughter who had been living in Singapore for years now.” Fernando grinned, the familiar warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a shield. “I’m never wrong about directions, mi vida. The fountain just got in the way.”

You shook your head, but the knot in your stomach began to loosen—his humor always works on you, as it always did, and you found yourself feeling slightly less on edge. You know that you would always be safe with your father, even in the paddock, where the eyes of the world could easily fall on you.

As you scanned the paddock, getting yourself familiar again with the surroundings, your heart skipped a beat when you spotted a familiar figure—Lando. He was walking nearby, assuming he just arrived, laughing at something, and for a brief second, it felt like no time had passed at all. Your old crush for him came rushing back, definitely unexpected and uninvited, bringing a sudden warmth to your cheeks. But just as quickly, your hope deflated when you saw a girl walking next to him, her hand wrapped around Lando’s arm. Of course, someone like him would have a girlfriend by now. Lando’s a handsome man, charming, and well…he’s Lando Norris. What were you even expecting?

Once you had settled in, Fernando had headed off for a meeting, and left you to your own devices. Until he had texted you to get something he had forgotten from his bag. So you found yourself on your way to his driver’s room at the Aston Martin motorhome. Your footsteps were quick, wanting to avoid any more awkward run-ins. As you rounded a corner, you bumped into someone, hard enough to make you stumble. But strong hands caught you before you could fall, and you found yourself face-to-face with Lando.

“Oh—hey!” Lando said, his voice bright with surprise. He paused, his gaze locking onto yours. “I remember you. You’re Fernando’s daughter, right? It’s been years since I last saw you.”

You froze for a moment, blinking in disbelief. Lando remembered you? After all these years? You never really expected him to remember you to be honest, you only had a brief interaction with him before.

“Uh, yeah,” you replied, feeling your face heat up. “It’s been a while.”

“I didn’t think you’d come back to the paddock,” he said, still smiling as his eyes looked at you, and for a second, you wondered if he noticed how much you had changed since you last first met. “You look…different. Good different,” he added, a bit awkwardly, as if he hadn’t meant to let the compliment slip.

“How’ve you been? What’s going on in your life?” He added.

You were stunned by how he had effortlessly struck up a conversation with you. You hadn’t been expecting any interaction with him, let alone such friendliness.

“I’ve been good,” you managed to say. “I just recently graduated from a university…in Singapore.”

“Wow, that’s impressive!” Lando said with a nod of approval. “What did you study?”

“International Relations.”

“Smart and beautiful, huh?” He teased lightly, his compliment catching you totally off guard.

You blinked, really unsure of how to respond. His words were casual, but they hit you harder than they should have. You spent so long thinking he wouldn’t even remember your name, and here he was, not only remembering but also showing genuine interest in your life. It was enough to make your heart race.

Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “I saw you with your girlfriend…”

Lando raised an eyebrow, confused for a moment. “Girlfriend? Oh—” he glanced behind him before laughing softly. “No, no. That’s just my cousin, she’s visiting this weekend.”

Your face burned with embarrassment. “Oh my god…I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to assume.”

“It’s alright,” he reassured, still smiling warmly. “But really, it’s good to see you. I hope we run into each other more often now that you’re back.”

Just as you were about to respond, Fernando appeared, his expression amused as he glanced between you and Lando. A smirk appeared on his face, and you immediately knew what was coming.

“There you are!” Fernando said, his voice carrying a hint of teasing. “I thought the media people had kidnapped you.”

“Nope, just me.” Lando laughed.

Fernando’s eyes twinkled knowingly as he rested a hand on your shoulder. “Well, we should get going, cariño. We don't want to keep you away from your busy schedule, Norris.”

“Alright,” Lando laughed. “Don’t be a stranger.” He said as he smiled at you and said his goodbyes.

You turned to leave, Fernando placed a hand on your back, gently guiding you forward. When you were a few steps away, he leaned in closer, whispering just loud enough for you to hear.

“So he remembers you, huh? I wonder why that is.” You glared up at him, but the blush on your cheeks gave you away. “Papa, stop.”

He just laughed, a warm, teasing sound. “It’s very cute, mi vida,” he teased, ruffling your hair. “I’m just saying. I know how you act around boys you like. Don’t forget, I’m your father.”

“I don’t like him,” you protested, though your voice lacked conviction. “Okay, okay. Maybe just a little.”

Fernando only chuckled, pulling you closer as you walked. “You know, I may be protective, but I’m not blind. Just remember, mi amor, no one will ever be good enough for you in my eyes. But if anyone makes you smile like that…well, maybe I can reconsider.”

It has already been a couple of months since you’re back in the paddock, and it still felt surreal. So much had changed, and yet, certain things remained the same—like how Fernando’s protective nature never faded, or how Lance had effortlessly stepped into the role of being your older brother, with just being older than you for two years, during this season. Ever since Fernando introduced you to Lance, he had taken it upon himself to watch over you, especially during race weekends when his and Fernando’s had their hands full, Lance would always make time. Honestly, Lance was like the cool big brother you never had, and though his playful teasing could get on your nerves, it was always in good spirit.

“Hey, you alright?” Lance asked, nudging you gently as you both stood near the garage, watching the mechanics prepare the cars. Fernando had been whisked away for an interview, leaving you with Lance, as usual.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied with a small smile. He gave you a knowing look. “You sure? You’ve been pretty quiet since we got here.”

“Just getting used to all of this again,” you admitted, gesturing vaguely to the track. “It’s been a while.”

Lance nodded thoughtfully. “True, it’s a lot to take in, especially with all the media and fans around. But you’ll get back into the groove. Besides, you’ve got me to help you out.” He grinned, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Thanks, Lance. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. I know Fernando can’t be here all the time, so I’ve got your back,” he said, slinging an arm around your shoulders in a casual, brotherly gesture. “Now, let’s go grab some coffee. I’ve got some time before we have our team meeting.”

As you walked through the paddock with Lance, he made it his mission to introduce you as well to a few people, keeping things light and easy. He was good at making sure you didn’t feel too overwhelmed, chatting away with everyone from the mechanics to PR staff. You felt comfortable around him, like you could just be yourself. However, Lance had also caught on to something that you had been trying to keep under wraps—your little crush on Lando Norris.

“So, Lando’s racing well this season, huh?” Lance commented casually as you passed the McLaren hospitality, his tone far too innocent for your liking.

“Don’t even start.” You glanced over at him, narrowing your eyes.

“What? I’m just saying,” Lance said, holding his hands up in mock surrender, though the smirk on his face betrayed his amusement. “You’ve been watching McLaren a lot today, just an observation.”

“I told you, I met him back in 2018. It’s not that big of a deal.” You rolled your eyes, but felt your cheeks warm.

“Uh-huh.” Lance’s grin widened. “So, you were surprised that he remembered you after all these years, huh? Sounds like someone made quite the impression.”

“Just like what Papa said,” you groaned, nudging him in the side. “Stop it, Lance.”

But he wasn’t letting up. “I mean, I get it. Lando’s a good-looking guy, charming, funny…oh, look! There he is!” He pointed ahead, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Lando walking toward the McLaren hospitality, chatting with a few team members.

“Lance—”

“Should I call him over?” Lance teased, raising his voice a little as if he were actually going to shout Lando’s name at any given moment.

Your eyes widened, and you quickly clamped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t you dare!”

He laughed behind your hand, his eyes sparkling with mischief. You dropped your hand, glaring at him, but he just grinned. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. I wouldn’t actually do it…unless, of course, you want me to.”

“I swear, Lance,” you mattered, glaring at him while he continued to laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“Hey, what are big brothers for if not to embarrass you in front of your crush?” Lance said, folding his arms across his chest with a smug grin. “You’re not even my real brother,” you shot back, though your tone held no malice.

Despite his teasing, you appreciated having Lance around. He made the chaos of the paddock feel more tolerable for you, especially when Fernando was busy with meetings or media obligations.

“Technicalities,” Lance said, waving a hand. “Besides, Fernando practically trusts me to look after you when he’s not around, so that makes me your honorary big brother—and as your big brother, it is my duty to tease you about your crush on Lando.”

“Can you please stop calling it a crush? It’s just…he’s nice, okay? That’s all!” You groaned in frustration, though a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

Lance raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying any of what you had said at all. “Right. Nice. Handsome, and funny, and…”

“Okay, okay!” You cut him off, your face burning with embarrassment. “I get it, you can shut up now.”

Lance chuckled again, then glanced over at Lando, who was still chatting nearby. “You know, he’s not that far. I bet you a hundred bucks that if I yelled out his name right now—”

“Lance, no!” You quickly covered his mouth with your hand again, “don’t even think about it.”

He pulled your hand away, laughing. “Fine, fine. But you owe me for holding back.”

“Owe you?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, for not embarrassing you in front of your ‘not-crush,’” he said, air-quoting the last part with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes, but there was a fondness in the gesture. Lance had a way of making the most nerve-wracking moments feel lighter. Though you knew he’d never actually go through with his threats to call out to Lando, he kept your mind off your nerves and made being in the paddock a lot more bearable.

Just as you were about to give him another half-hearted glare, Fernando returned, fresh from his interview.

“Everything okay here?” He asked, glancing between you and Lance, clearly sensing the playful tension. “All good.” Lance replied with a grin, but you could see the mischief still twinkling in his eyes.

Fernando looked at you, raising an eyebrow. “You sure? Lance hasn’t been teasing you, has he?” You shook your head, biting back a smile. “No, nothing I can’t handle.”

Fernando smiled, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Good. Come on, let’s go. We’ve got a bit of time before the team meeting, and I want to catch up with you.”

You and Lance followed your father, then you turned to him. “Thanks, Lance,” you said, voice soft.

Lance looked at you, slightly surprised by the sudden sincerity, then smiled warmly. “Don’t worry, I always got you.”

What you didn’t know, over the McLaren, Lando had also been dealing with his own set of nerves ever since that first conversation with you on your first day back at the paddock. It had been brief, but it left a mark on him. He couldn’t help but think about how much you had changed since the last time he saw you all those years ago—how you had grown into someone graceful, gorgeous, and kind, not to mention incredibly smart, which only made him more nervous to be around you.

Every time he would pass by the Aston Martin hospitality, he would always take a peek discreetly looking for you or when he saw you walking around the paddock with Fernando or Lance, his eyes would linger a little too long. But there was one problem—your father. As much as Lando respected Fernando, the idea of asking out his daughter was…intimidating, to say the least. The fact that Fernando was fiercely protective of you didn’t help. Yeah, he and Fernando were good mates on the grid, but that didn’t mean Lando was ready to risk his life, or his career, by doing something reckless, like trying to date the legendary driver’s only daughter.

So instead, Lando had been venting his frustrations at his teammate, Oscar, who had been on the receiving end of it and had quickly become the unwilling listener of Lando’s dilemma. Like the one he’s having right now. At this point, Lando is on the verge of a mental breakdown, and maybe possibly losing his mind about how he can ask you out.

“I don’t know, man,” Lando groaned as they sat in the McLaren garage, waiting for their next session. “She’s just…different. She’s smart, amazing, and don’t even get me started on how gorgeous she is. How am I supposed to ask her out when her dad is Fernando Alonso? I can’t compete with that.”

Oscar, who had been half-listening while scrolling through his phone, glanced up with an amused smile. “You’re overthinking it. You and Fernando get along just fine.”

“Yeah, on the track. This is completely different, mate!” Lando huffed, running a hand through his hair. “And what if she doesn’t even like me? I mean, she’s so quiet, I can’t tell if she’s interested or just being polite.”

Oscar leaned back in his seat, finally giving Lando his full attention. “You said she remembered you from 2018, right? That’s pretty much something. She’s been hanging around lately as well whenever Fernando would drop by at McLaren, so maybe she’s interested too. You’re never going to know unless you ask.”

Lando sighed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “But what if Fernando finds out and kills me? Or worse, what if he doesn’t kill me, and I have to deal with the awkwardness for the rest of the season?”

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Mate, if you’re this scared of Fernando, you’ll never get anywhere. Plus, he’s not going to bite your head off. He’s a pretty reasonable guy, you just need to grow a spine and ask her out already.”

Lando shot him a glare. “Easy for you to say! You didn’t see the way Fernando looked at me when she and I talked last time, it was like he was reading my mind. Oh I swear he knows. Plus, you’re not the one trying to score a date with his daughter or the one that he’ll be running off of the track!”

“Okay, first of all, Fernando wouldn’t actually run you off the track. He’s a professional, mate, and maybe he does know, and maybe that’s why you need to stop hiding and just get over it.” Oscar laughed, shaking his head, “and second, yeah, that’s true. But I am tired of hearing you whine about it. Either ask her out or move on, you’re driving me insane man.”

Lando groaned again, but Oscar’s words stuck with him. Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe you did like him too. After all, you had seemed genuinely surprised when he remembered you from all those years ago, and there was also something in the way you looked at him sometimes—shy, but with a glimmer of interest, at least that gave him hope. But then, he’d remember your father, Fernando’s face popping in his mind. Fernando Alonso. One of the most respected and competitive drivers on the grid. How was he supposed to approach that conversation?

“Alright,” Lando said after a long pause. “I’ll think about it. I’ll ask her out…eventually.”

Oscar groaned. “Mate, if you don’t do it soon, I’m going to ask her out for you, or better yet, I’ll just tell Fernando.”

“Okay, okay!” Lando laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll do it. Just…give me some time to figure everything out.”

“Well, better figure it out quickly. Chop chop!” Oscar warned with a smirk. “Or else I’m really going to tell Fernando that his daughter’s got a secret admirer.”

He paled at the thought, Lando knew that Oscar would completely do it, without a doubt, and there was no escaping it. He had to do something, or he’d never live it down.

Lando had spent the better part of the week agonizing over how he would ask you out. After days of pacing, internal battle, and driving Oscar up the wall with his endless worries and overthinking, he finally devised what he thought was a foolproof plan.

“Okay, here me out. I’m going to ask her out during the Singapore Grand Prix,” Lando announced confidently, arms crossed over his chest. He looked over at Oscar, who raised an eyebrow.

“Singapore? Why there?” Oscar asked, clearly skeptical and a little bit confused. Lando shifted nervously, but kept his chin up. “Think about it. If she says no, I’ll have the whole month off before the US Grand Prix. Plenty of time to move on, right? It’s perfect. No awkward run-ins at the paddock, no weirdness during the races, just time to get over it.”

Oscar leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, smirking as he listened to Lando’s outrageously insane logic. “You do realize that even if you have a month off, you’ll still see her at the US Grand Prix, right?”

Lando blinked, his confidence faltering for a moment. “Well…yeah, but that’s like, way down the line! By then, things will have settled.”

Oscar snorted. “Or you’ll just be dragging it out longer, and it’ll be just as awkward when you see her at the US GP as it would be anywhere else. Let’s also not forget, she’s Fernando’s daughter, no way can you just avoid her.”

Lando’s shoulders slumped slightly, but he quickly straightened up again, determined to defend his plan. “Nah mate, it’ll be fine. If she says no, I’ll have a whole month to, like…recalibrate. By the time the US GP rolls around, I’ll be good. Plus, Singapore has always been special to her. She lived there, went to university there—it’s got sentimental value. It’s a good place to ask.”

Oscar sighed, shaking his head. “Mate, honestly, that is the worst logic I’ve ever heard. You’re going to see her whether she rejects you or not. A month isn’t going to magically make it less awkward.”

“Yes, but—” Lando tried to defend himself, but Oscar cuts him off.

“No, seriously. Just because there’s a break between races doesn’t mean your feelings are going to magically disappear in four weeks. You’ll have to see her, you’ll still have to deal with it. You’re not just going to poof get over it because the calendar says so.”

Lando opened his mouth, then closed it, frowning. “Okay, fine, maybe it’s not the best plan, but it’s the only one I’ve got! What else am I supposed to do?”

“How about this,” Oscar said, leaning forward, his tone dead serious. “Ask her out because you like her, not because you’re trying to time your emotional recovery between races. You’re just over complicating everything, man.”

Lando groaned, running a hand through his hair. “But what if she says no?” Oscar gave him a deadpan look. “And if she says yes?”

What Oscar said definitely threw Lando for a loop. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, if she says yes, what’s the point of your ‘one month to move on’ plan? You’ll see her even more. Mate, you’ll have to be ready for things to go somewhere, especially with her dad around.”

Lando rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous laugh escaping him. “Yeah, but—well, I mean, that would be the ideal situation, right? If she says yes, then great! No need for a break, and she and I can ride off into the sunset.”

Oscar sighed, clearly amused but trying to help his friend make sense of things while he himself is currently on his wits end. “Look, I’m just saying your logic is a bit off. If you like her, just ask her out. Whether it’s in Singapore or the US or wherever, the outcome will all be the same. You either take a chance or keep overthinking it.”

Lando sighed dramatically, plopping down in the chair next to Oscar. “I know, I know. It’s just…I want it to be perfect, you know? I’ve liked her for a while, and it feels like I’ve only got one shot at this. As the wise words of Eminem and I quote, ‘you only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow, this opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo.’”

“Can’t believe that you really quoted Eminem,” Oscar laughed, though he couldn’t resist teasing him. “You’ve already got a shot, mate. She talks to you, she remembers you, and you’re the only one who keeps making excuses.”

Lando groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Fine, okay. Singapore it is. But if I get rejected, you’re the one driving me to the airport.” Oscar laughed, patting Lando on the back. “Deal. But if she says yes, you owe me free dinners until the end of the season.”

“What?! That’s insane!” Oscar rolled his eyes, but gave a small smile, “it’s enough to cover as a compensation for what you had put me through. Driving me insane with your crazy ass.”

“Alright, fine! Deal.” Oscar grinned, “that’s more like it! Now shake on it.” He held out his hand for Lando to shake, to seal the deal that they had made.

“Now, don’t you chicken out, or else I’m really telling Fernando myself.” Lando shot him a glare. “You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.” Oscar said with a smirk.

Despite Oscar’s teasing, Lando knew he was right. Whether or not the timing was ideal, he has to shoot his shot with you. Singapore was coming up fast, and with it, the moment of truth. He just hoped that whatever the outcome of everything, he wouldn’t end up regretting it—because, at the end of the day, you were definitely worth the risk.

SINGAPORE

The Singapore Grand Prix had finally arrived, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement and comfort being back in the place you now considered as your second home. The familiar street, the warm tropical breeze, and the breathtaking skyline that always felt like a protective shield—all of it made you feel grounded. However, this year felt different though. You are here with your father, Fernando, but now you are grown, with your own life in Singapore. A part of you wanted to stay here permanently, and you knew that this kind of conversation with your father was coming.

You had also flown back to Singapore a little bit earlier than Fernando, so right after the race in Baku, you flew back to Singapore, and you would just meet up with him once he arrived. You made plans with some old university friends for a brunch date, and it had been very refreshing, catching up with familiar faces and feeling part of the city again, laughing over stories of your time during your undergraduate days and just listening to their life updates.

It was Tuesday when Fernando arrived in Singapore, and it felt like a reunion, even though you had been apart for a short period of time. You met him at the hotel he was staying in, and the moment you saw him, a gentle warmth spread through your chest.

“Papa!” You called, rushing to give him a big hug. He enveloped you in a tight hug, lifting you off your feet for a moment. “It’s so good to see you!”

“Good to see you too, mi pequeño campeón,” he replied, a proud smile on his face.

Despite the happiness you were currently feeling, the upcoming conversation with your father about your future was creeping at the back of your mind. You wanted to properly talk to him about staying in Singapore permanently, though you knew it wouldn’t be easy. The bond between you and your father had always been strong, and you didn’t want him to think that you were drifting away, especially that you’re the only one he has. After all, you were still his daughter, and no matter where you were in the world, that wouldn’t change.

“You’ve grown up so much,” Fernando said with a proud smile on his face as you walked through the bustling streets, the sounds of the city surrounding you. “It feels like just yesterday you were running around the house in your diapers and wearing your underwear in your head.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the memory.

“Yeah, well, I’m all grown up now,” you replied, playfully nudging him. “But I’m really happy to be spending the time with you, Papa.”

You walked through the bustling streets, visited the Garden by the Bay, and took him to Sentosa, where you went to Universal Studios and rode the famous cable car. It felt good, just like the old times, where it was just you and him, with no race schedules or media obligations pulling him away.

As you strolled through the bustling hawker centers, savoring the delicious local food, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you, and with Fernando seeing you order the food you wanted to eat, he can perfectly see how you fit right in this kind of environment, it was like as if your were a true local. It made him happy to see that you are happy, comfortable, and content with the country that you were living in for the past years. Right after a satisfying dinner at the hawker centers, you decided to stroll at a park, and sat down at a bench, watching the Singaporean skyline.

“Papa, can we talk about something serious?” You said, glancing at him.

“Of course, mi vida,” he replied, leaning back comfortably on the bench, his expression turning earnest. “What’s in that little mind of yours?”

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. “I’ve been thinking a lot…about staying here in Singapore. I love it here, and I want to pursue my masters degree and build my career. I know it’s a big decision, but…I really feel at home here, Papa.”

He turned to you, his expression soft but curious. “I figured as much. You’ve always seemed at peace here,” he said with a smile, though there was a flicker of emotions in his eyes. “But does this mean you won’t be coming to visit me anymore? I’ll miss you, you know.”

You smile gently. “Of course I’ll visit you! I’m not disappearing, I promise. It’s just…I feel like I’ve found my place here. But you’ll always be my home too, no matter where you are.”

Fernando nodded, his arm draping over your shoulders. “As long as you’re happy, safe, and chasing your dreams, I will always support you. Just don’t forget to visit your old man, alright?” You leaned into him, grateful for his understanding. “I could never forget.”

“However, we’ll need to discuss the logistics and what that means for your studies.” You nodded, “of course! I’ll figure everything out.”

There was a pause, a comfortable silence that stretched between you, but you knew there was something else you needed to come clean about. Something more personal and had been on your mind for a while now. As much as it makes you nervous, you trust your father enough to talk about it.

“Papa, there’s something else I need to tell you,” you said, your voice quieter now. Fernando turned his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. “What is it?”

You took a deep breath, fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. “It’s about Lando.”

That got his attention. Fernando looked at you more intently, a mixture of surprise and curiosity crossing his face. “Lando? What about him?” You bit your lip, feeling your heart rate pick up. “I—I think I like him. It’s not just a silly crush anymore. It’s something more.”

For a moment, Fernando didn’t say anything, his face was unreadable as he processed what you had just said. You braced yourself, really unsure of how he would react. Would he be overprotective? Would he laugh? Or would he be mad? You couldn’t really tell.

But then, he sighed, his expression softening as he just smiled at you. “I had a feeling,” he said, surprising you. “You…did?” You asked, blinking.

Fernando chuckled. “Soy tu padre, mi amor. I always notice these kinds of things, and I have seen the way Lando looks at you too.” He shook his head slightly. “I just didn’t think it had gotten this serious.”

“It’s not serious, serious. But I can tell that it’s more than just a crush,” you admitted, feeling relieved that he wasn’t upset. “I don’t know if he feels the same way, but I want to be honest with you, I don’t like hiding things from you. You’re my Papa, and I wanted you to know.”

Fernando sighed, pulling you closer. “I appreciate that you told me, princesa. I trust you to make your own decisions, just…if things ever get too difficult, or if you need advice, don’t hesitate to come to me. Lando’s a good kid, but relationships are never easy, especially in this kind of world. But no matter what happens, I’m going to be always here for you.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand resting comfortingly on your shoulder.

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter now that you had told him the truth. “I will. Thank you, Papa.”

Fernando chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “You know, it’s hard to keep up with you sometimes. One moment you’re my little girl, and the next you’re talking about pursuing a career and potentially dating a race car driver.”

You laughed, feeling a mix of relief and warmth. “I guess I’m just growing up. But you know that I’ll always be your little girl, Papa.”

“Well, if Lando makes you happy, I don’t see why you shouldn’t explore that,” he said, his tone softening. “Just be careful, okay? You know how the media can be, and I want you to be safe.”

“Of course, Papa. I promise.” You smiled at him.

As you sat there at the bench with your father, the weight of the conversation lifted, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. You didn’t know what would happen with Lando, but you knew you had the support of the one person who mattered most—your father, and for now, that was enough.

The atmosphere inside the Aston Martin garage was buzzing with the pre-race tension as you stood by, watching your father make his final preparations. Fernando will be starting in P7, and while you had been through countless races with him, the familiar knot of nerves still twisted in your stomach. You couldn’t help it—racing was unpredictable, and no matter how many times you had seen your father take on a track, you would always be worried. Just before he climbed into the car, you walked over and wrapped your arms around Fernando, squeezing him tightly.

“Good luck, Papa,” you whispered, your voice slightly muffled against his racing suit.

Fernando returned the hug, holding you for a moment longer than usual. “I’ll be fine, cariño,” he assured you, pulling back to smile at you with that calm, reassuring look he always gave before a race. “Just keep your eyes on the screen, and remember, I’ll be coming back to you after this.”

You nodded, managing a small smile despite the nervousness you’re feeling. “I know. But still, just be careful out there, okay?”

“Always,” he promised, giving you a smile before heading toward his car. You watched as he climbed in, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline that always hit just before the lights went out.

As the race began, you settled into the garage, your eyes darting between the live feed of your father’s car and, admittedly, a certain McLaren that had started from pole position. Lando. You weren’t sure why, but every time he appeared on the screen, your heart would always skip a beat.

Lando had an incredible start, holding his position from the first corner. You watched as lap after lap, Lando built a commanding 20-second gap over Max, pushing through the relentless humidity of Singapore. It was clear by the midway point that he had the race in the bag, and that didn’t stop you from feeling a strange mix of pride and nervous energy for him too.

Fernando, on the other hand, was fighting a tough race. It wasn’t easy, but you knew he’d give it everything he had, like he always does. When the checkered flag finally waved, Lando crossed the line first, successfully claiming his third win of the season. Max came in second, and Oscar rounded out the podium in third, making it a double podium for McLaren, while Fernando finished on P8. You exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding, relieved that the race was finally over and that both Lando and your father had finished safely.

You waited for Fernando to make his way back to the garage, you couldn’t help but feel a small flutter in your chest. Lando had won, and while you were genuinely happy for him, you were also unsure of what to do next. Should you congratulate him? Would he even have time for you amidst the celebrations?

When your father finally walked into the garage, you rushed over to him, wrapping your arms around him again. “P8! That’s great, Papa!” You beamed, knowing it had been a tough race.

Fernando chuckled softly, patting your back. “Not bad for your old man, huh? It was a bit of a struggle out there, but I’m happy with it.” You pulled back and looked up at him, the warmth of post-race moments settling between you. “I’m just glad you’re okay. Singapore can be brutal.”

He nodded in agreement, wiping sweat from his forehead with a towel. “You’re right about that. The heat doesn’t make it any easier.”

The two of you just stood there, catching your breath, Fernando gave you a knowing look. “So…you’re not going to congratulate Lando?”

Your eyes widened slightly, caught off guard. “Uh, well…I mean, I was going to, but I thought he’d be busy celebrating, you know…podiums, interviews, all that.”

Fernando raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, come on. He just won the Singapore Grand Prix, I’m sure he’d appreciate hearing it from you, you know.”

“I know, but…I don’t want to interrupt. It’s his moment,” you said, shifting on your feet, feeling unsure of yourself.

Your father shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re always so thoughtful, but you should give yourself more credit, cariño. He’s not going to mind talking to you, even if he’s celebrating.” You sighed, half-laughing. “I’ll think about it. Maybe later, if we bump into each other.”

Fernando put an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both watched the scene unfolding by the McLaren garage from the distance. “You’re overthinking it, as usual. Just trust yourself. Lando’s a good kid—and he likes you too, you know.”

Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, surprised by his comment. “What do you mean by that?” He just gave you a knowing smile. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I might be your Papa, but I’m not blind.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, looking away to hide your embarrassment. “Papa!” He just laughed at you, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I’m just saying, hija. Don’t be so nervous, and if you do talk to him tonight, just be yourself. That’s all that matters.”

You leaned into him, grateful for his constant support. “Thanks, Papa. I’ll try not to overthink it too much.”

“Good. Remember, if he gives you any trouble, I’ll have a word with him,” Fernando teased, though you knew very well that he wasn’t entirely joking. You laughed, shaking your head. “I think I can handle it.”

“That’s my girl.” He said, ruffling your hair playfully before letting go.

It was late by the time you and Fernando finally left the paddock. The post-race chaos had kept you there far longer than you expected—interviews, debriefings, team meetings, but you didn’t mind too much. As the two of you exited the Aston Martin motorhome, you were feeling tired, but the evening breeze helped clear your mind, cooling your nerves after the long day.

You and Fernando walked side by side, heading towards the parking lot, and you were mentally replaying the events of the day. You both feel relieved and happy that your father had finished the race safely, but at the same time, your thoughts kept drifting back to Lando. The memory of him winning the race, standing on the top step of the podium—it had all been imprinted in your mind. You still hadn’t congratulated him, and now, the internal debate was in full force.

Just as you and Fernando reached the parking lot, you spotted Lando. He was about to leave as well, freshly showered and looking relaxed, though the sight of him made your heart race all over again. The internal conflict within you wasn’t exactly that subtle—your hesitation must have been really visible, because Fernando glanced at you but chose not to say anything, giving you space to decide.

Right before you could make up your mind, Lando had noticed you. His eyes lit up as he called your name, voice breaking through your thoughts.

“Hey!”

You froze for a second, then offered him a shy smile. Before you could even form a proper response, Lando began walking over to you, his expression bright and boyish. Your nerves kicking into high gear, and for a brief moment, you wished you had more time to properly collect yourself. But Fernando, always one to notice, just smiled and took your handbag from your hand.

“I’ll be waiting in the car,” he said, tone light and teasing as he glanced between you and Lando. “Take your time.” With that, he left, giving you an encouraging wink as he walked away. Now, it was just you and Lando.

The moment felt heavier than what you had expected, both of you standing there in the dimly lit parking lot, nerves getting the better of you. You could feel your palms starting to sweat, unsure of how to start a conversation. But Lando, surprisingly, seemed just as equally nervous as you, rubbing the back of his neck and shifting on his feet awkwardly.

“So…uhm, congrats on the win,” you blurted out, your voice a bit quieter than what you had intended. “You were amazing out there.”

Lando’s eyes softened, his grin widening at your words. “Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you.” He paused, as if debating his next move. Then, in one breath, he blurted out, “Do you want to go out with me? Like, on an actual date?”

The question hung in the air for a second longer than it should have, and you blinked, too stunned to even respond right away. Did you hear that right? Did Lando Norris just actually ask you out on a date? Your mind raced, trying to process the suddenness of it all. Lando’s expression faltered slightly at your silence, his cheeks turning pink as he took a step back, clearly assuming the worst.

“Oh, uh…you don’t have to answer right away if you don’t want to. I mean, it’s totally fine if you’re not interested—”

“No, no! I mean yes! I mean—” you are fumbling, trying to get the right words out, waving your hands in front of you. “I’m not saying no. I just…I didn’t expect you to ask, that’s all. I—” you stopped yourself, realizing that you were rambling and it’s sounding so ridiculous and embarrassing. “Of course I’d love to go out with you.” You said finally, voice more even now.

Lando’s face brightened instantly, his nervousness giving way to a wide grin. “Really? You would?”

“Yeah,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’ve kind of…liked you for a while now. I just didn’t think you felt the same.”

Lando laughed, a light, relieved sound. “Are you kidding? I’ve been wanting to ask you since…well, since forever, really. I just wasn’t sure if you’d say yes.” He scratched the back of his head, expression sheepish. “I thought your dad might…you know, run me off track or something.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your nerves slowly starting to melt away. “He might, but I think he likes you, so you’re safe. Don’t worry.”

He chuckled, visibly more at ease now that the awkwardness had passed. Then, he hesitated, his expression turning curious. “So, are you staying here in Singapore after the race? Or are you going to be with your dad during the break?”

“I’m staying for a week,” you explained, feeling more comfortable now. “I’ve got some things I need to work on here, but after that, I’m heading off to St. Moritz with Papa. We’re going to spend some time there before the next race.”

His eyes lit up with a hopeful look. “Do you think we could…maybe squeeze in our date before you leave? I mean, if you’re not too busy.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the idea, and you nodded, a soft smile forming on your lips. “Yeah, I think we can definitely make that work.”

“Great! I’ll figure something out and text you, then.” Lando grinned, looking as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

As you both stood there, a comfortable silence settling between you, Lando glanced towards the car where Fernando was waiting and then back at you.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your dad’s car before he thinks I’m keeping you hostage.” You laughed softly and replied, “He’s probably watching us from the rearview mirror right now.”

He fell into step beside you, his hand grazing yours for a moment before he hesitated, unsure if he should take your hand with his or not. The gesture was so innocent, so sweet, that without thinking, you reached out and took Lando’s hand in yours, giving it a light squeeze.

When you reached the car, he paused, giving you one last, nervous smile. “So, I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah, definitely.” You replied, feeling a little giddy now.

Lando looked at you with a soft smile, and before you started overthinking again, you leaned in and pressed a quick, gentle kiss to his cheek. The move surprised even you—you had no idea where you got the confinement all of the sudden, but it felt right.

“Goodnight, Lando.” You said softly and smiled at him, “Goodnight.” He replied back shyly.

You climbed into the car as he walked away, you swear you saw him cheering with himself as his figure disappeared into the night.

Fernando glanced at you, a knowing smile on his face. “So, how did it go?” You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “It went fine, Papa. Really fine.”

“Fine, huh?” He chuckled, shifting the car into gear. “Looks like it was more than just fine to me.”

You laughed softly, settling into the passenger seat as the car pulled away from the paddock, your thoughts still on Lando and your upcoming date.

The evening air in Singapore was warm and soft, carrying the sounds of the city as you walked beside Lando through the quieter streets. It has been an eventful week for you, but you were happy that your date with Lando had finally happened. Your date had been more than what you could have hoped for. He had picked you up from your apartment earlier in the evening, and you had taken on the role of his guide, showing him the city like a true local—taking him to places that tourists rarely visited. The city was your second home, and it felt special to be sharing it with him, especially since he’d only known it through the brief lens of race weekends.

Lando seemed eager to soak it all in. “So, where to first?” He asked, glancing over at you with a smile as you walked side by side with your hands intertwined.

“You’ll see,” you teased, knowing he’d enjoy the places you had in mind.

You had decided to take him to the quieter parts of the city—away from the tourist crowds and into the hidden corners where you had spent most of your time. You led him through the winding streets, showing him local markets, narrow alleyways adorned with colorful murals, and cozy cafés that are tucked between old buildings.

“This is incredible,” Lando said after a while, his voice full of admiration as he looked around. “I had no idea Singapore had all these little spots.”

“Well, it’s different when you’re not here just for the race,” you replied, smiling softly. “I love it here. It’s home.”

Eventually, you brought him to one of your favorite places—a small, family-run restaurant hidden away from the bustling city, where you had frequented during your college days. The smell of home-cooked food wafted through the air as you approached, and a warmth spread through you as you saw the familiar faces of the elderly couple who owned the place.

“Ah, you’re back!” The old man greeted you with a wide smile, coming around the counter to hug you. “It’s been too long, my dear. How have you been?”

“I’m good,” you said, hugging him back. “This is Lando, by the way.”

Lando smiled and offered his hand, but the old man pulled him into a friendly hug instead. “Welcome! Any friend of hers is always welcome here.”

The woman joined her husband, her eyes twinkling as she looked you over. “You’ve brought someone special this time, I see,” she said softly, her tone playful.

You felt your cheeks flush slightly, but Lando laughed, giving you a teasing look. “She’s showing me all of the best spots in the city.”

The couple fussed over the two of you, bringing out plates of food that smelled and tasted like comfort, making sure that the two of you are comfortable and well-fed. The conversation flowed easily, with Lando making both of them laugh with his stories. It was nice—being there with him, surrounded by people who cared for you like family. After the meal, you thanked the couple, promising to visit again once you’re back in Singapore. They handed out a takeout bag for each of you, containing one of their desserts that you loved very much.

“Take care of her, young man,” the old woman said, patting Lando’s arm as you both stood to leave.

“I will,” Lando promised, voice soft but sincere.

It was already past ten in the evening, and the city lights are casting a gentle glow around you. Streets were peaceful, and the warmth of the evening breeze made the city feel even more intimate. Only the sound of your footsteps can be heard on the pavement as you and Lando strolled side by side.

“I still can’t believe I’ve never seen this side of Singapore before,” Lando said, his voice warm with admiration. You smiled, glancing up at him. “I guess it helps when you have a local guide. There’s so much more to Singapore than just the Marina Bay and the usual tourist spots.”

“I’m starting to see that,” he said with a soft chuckle. “And I like it.”

For a moment, the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the night around you quiet and serene. There was something so comforting about being with Lando like this—no cameras or media, just the two of you walking through a city you loved. The ease of it all made your heart swell with affection.

As you reached a small park, Lando slowed his pace, glancing at you with a thoughtful look in his eyes. You smiled, remembering your father’s request.

“Oh, right! I almost forgot, before Papa left Singapore, he asked me to extend the invitation to you. He wants you to join us in St. Moritz for the break. He said he would like to get to know you better, outside of racing. Only if you’re not too busy.”

Lando raised his eyebrows in surprise, then grinned. “Really? He actually said that?” You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly. “Yeah, he did. He’s a bit overprotective, but he likes you.”

Lando laughed softly. “Well, that’s a relief. I was kind of worried he’d be ready to send me into a wall or something.”

You shook your head, laughing with him. “No, I think you’re safe. He just wants to make sure I’m okay.”

Lando’s expression softened as he looked at you. “I get that. I really would love to go to St. Moritz with you. It sounds…nice. Meeting your family, spending time with you.” He paused for a moment, then added, “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page about…us.”

Your heart raced at the shift in the conversation. You had known this topic would come up eventually, and now that it had, you felt a mix of excitement and nerves.

“You mean…our relationship?” You asked softly.

Lando nodded, his gaze steady. “Yeah. I really like you—a lot, and I want this to work, but I also know that it won’t be easy. You’re living in Singapore permanently, and I’m always traveling for races. It’ll be a long distance.”

“I know. I’ve thought about it too. I’m planning to stay here, especially since I’m going to start my masters at the end of the season. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do, and Singapore is home now.” You sighed, feeling a knot form in your chest.

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I get that, and I would never want to get in the way of your plans. But we’ll make it work, right? I mean, we have to try.”

“Yeah, we’ll try. It’s not going to be easy, but if we both want this, we can make it work.” You smiled softly, feeling a sense of comfort settle over you.

“Exactly. You know, it’s not like I won’t ever see you. We can visit each other during breaks, and I’ll be in Singapore for races. Plus, there’s always the off-season.” He smiled at you.

You laughed, feeling lighter now that the conversation had been laid out so openly. “True. I’ll visit you too in Monaco when I can. It’s just going to take some balancing.”

“Yeah, but I think we can handle that,” he said confidently. “Besides, it’ll be worth it.”

“You’re right. It’ll be worth it.” He stepped closer, grabbing your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You don’t have to worry about anything. We’ll figure everything out together.” Lando brought your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “I don’t want to lose this, lose you. If that means I have to fly halfway around the world to see you, I will.”

In that moment, you knew you felt the same. You didn’t want to lose this either—whatever it was that had sparked between you two. Maybe it was new, maybe it was fragile, but it was real, and you were both willing to fight for it.

“Yep.” You smiled up at him. “And in the meantime, we’ve got St. Moritz. So, will you come?”

Lando grinned, pulling you into a playful hug. “Try and stop me.”

You laughed as he twirled you in the quiet street, your heart feeling lighter than it had been in a long time. You both walked back toward his car, hand in hand, the future didn’t seem so daunting anymore.

ST. MORITZ

The flight to St. Moritz was filled with quiet excitement. You and Lando had spent most of the time talking about everything and nothing, enjoying each other’s company without the rush of the race weekend hanging over you. It felt peaceful, like a little bubble where the outside world didn’t matter. But as you began to descend into the Swiss Alps, your nerves started to pick up again, especially knowing that this trip would bring Lando one step closer to your family.

When you both arrived at the chalet, the crisp mountain air filled your lungs, and you felt an immediate sense of calm. Waiting outside the chalet was your father, along with your grandparents, who waved warmly as you and Lando got out of the car. Fernando greeted you first, pulling you into a tight hug. Then he turned to Lando, giving him a welcoming hug too, but there was a knowing look in your father’s eyes.

Lando smiled, trying to hide the bit of nerves you knew he must be feeling. “Good to see you again, Fernando.” Lando said.

“Good to see you too, Lando. Glad you can make it, and welcome to the family vacation.” Fernando replied, clapping him on the back before gesturing for you both to come inside.

You were quickly enveloped in the warmth of the chalet, and your grandparents greeted you with smiles, your grandmother pulling you into a soft embrace.

“Look at you, mi hija,” she cooed, brushing some hair out of your face. “How are you? And what have you been up to in Singapore?”

You smiled warmly. “I’m doing great, Grandma. Just finished my degree and I’m now working on settling down in Singapore. I’ve got my plans for my masters lined up.”

“¡Oh, nuestra hermosa y inteligente chica! Siempre haciéndonos orgullosos.” Your grandmother beamed proudly, as your grandfather gave a nod of approval, his eyes twinkling as he looked over at Lando, who stood patiently beside you. “And who’s this fine young man?” He asked, his tone playful but curious.

You introduced Lando to them, feeling a blush creep up on your cheeks. “This is Lando, Grandpa. He’s a driver too in Formula 1, just like Papa. We’ve…gotten close recently.”

Lando offered a polite smile, shaking your grandfather’s hand and exchanging greetings with your grandmother. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

Dinner was a lively affair, filled with laughter, light banter, and plenty of teasing. Fernando, as you expected, couldn’t resist throwing in a few playful jabs at Lando, especially whenever the conversation turned towards racing. Your grandparents, however, were more interested in hearing about how Lando and you had met, gently nudging the conversation toward stories about the two of you.

“So, Lando,” your grandmother began, her eyes sparkling with mischief, “do you plan on visiting Singapore often? You know, to keep this one company.”

Lando grinned, glancing at you before answering. “As often as I can. I’ve already promised her that I’ll make the long flights.” Your grandfather chuckled, patting Lando on the shoulder. “Good man.”

After dinner, you and Lando lingered in the living room, soaking in the warmth of the fire while your grandparents shared stories with Fernando. It felt comfortable, like a real family gathering, and you could tell that Lando was starting to relax, even under the weight of the situation. Eventually, Lando turned to you, his expression a little more serious but still soft.

“I think I’ll be joining your dad and grandfather for a drink,” he said, his eyes betraying a hint of nerves.

You knew exactly what that meant—a talk. The one where Fernando and your grandfather would grill Lando just enough to make sure he had good intentions, but also bond with him in the way only family could. You smiled reassuringly at him. You knew your father and grandfather weren't going to scare him off—they just wanted to make sure that Lando understood the importance of looking after you.

“Good luck. They’ll go easy on you, I think.” Lando let out a small laugh, standing up and leaning down to give you a quick, comforting kiss on the cheeks. “I’ll survive.”

As Lando, Fernando, and your grandfather settled into a more private part of the chalet, you stayed behind with your grandmother, who started making tea and fussing over the details of dinner, especially the topic of you and Lando. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit nervous for Lando, but you trust your father. Even though he could be overprotective, he just wanted the best for you, and it was obvious that he saw potential in Lando—enough to invite him to St. Moritz.

Meanwhile, in the other room, your father and grandfather wasted nontime diving into their questions.

“Lando,” your grandfather began, his tone warm but firm. “Tell me more about yourself. What do you like to do outside of racing? What kind of man are you, really?”

Lando smiled nervously, but answered honestly. “Well, I enjoy a lot of things—gaming, playing golf when I can, running my own company, but mostly just spending time with friends and family. Outside of racing, I try to keep my life simple. But…I think I’m just someone who’s passionate about what I do and the people I care about.”

Fernando nodded, sipping his drink slowly. “And my daughter? How serious are you about her?” His voice was calm, but the weight of the question hung in the air.

Lando didn’t falter, he glanced toward the door as if picturing you on the other side before he spoke. “I’m very serious about her. I’ve liked her for a long time, and I know it’s still new, but I’m willing to put in the work to make it last. I care about her a lot, and I respect her decisions, her life in Singapore, everything.”

Your grandfather exchanged a glance with Fernando before leaning back in his chair. “She’s settled in Singapore, and you’re constantly traveling. Long distance relationships aren’t for the faint of heart.” he said thoughtfully.

“I do understand,” Lando replied earnestly, meeting both of their gazes head-on. “And I’ve thought about that a lot. I know it’ll be challenging, but I’m willing to make it work. She means a lot to me, and I don’t want to let the distance be the thing that keeps us apart.”

Your grandfather nodded thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair. “That’s good to hear,” he said for a moment. “We’ve always wanted the best for her, and if you’re willing to put in the effort, that says a lot about the kind of man you are.”

Fernando didn’t say much after that, but you knew he was taking everything in, assessing the way Lando spoke about you, he just smiled widely at him. It was clear that he appreciated Lando’s honesty and sincerity, he just wanted what's best for his only daughter—which is his whole world. But as a father, he would always be protective of you.

After the conversation wound down, Lando returned to your side, visibly relieved but still wearing that charming smile oh his, and putting an arm around you as he sat beside you on the couch. You raised an eyebrow as he sat beside you.

“Hey, how did it go?” You asked, intertwining your hand with his over your shoulder, half-teasing but genuinely curious.

Lando exhaled, running a hand through his hair with his free hand. “Well, let’s just say that your dad and grandfather aren’t easily won over,” he said with a grin. “But I think I passed.”

“I had no doubt you would.” You laughed softly, leaning into his chest.

The night wound down and the chalet grew quieter, you found yourself sitting with Lando by the fire, the two of you are wrapped in a comfortable silence. The warmth of the fire and the steady rhythm of his breathing next to you made everything feel perfect. St. Moritz had a way of making everything feel more peaceful, and with Lando by your side, you knew this was just the beginning of something special.

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by aussiegrit, oscarpiastri, pierregasly, sebastianvettel, lance_stroll and 127,839 others

fernandoalo_oficial Vacaciones! Decided to take the kids skiing 😁🏂❄️

view all 34,847 comments

sebastianvettel is that little alonso? she’s all grown up now! i remember when she was still too shy to even say hello. time flies!

fernandoalo_oficial she’s still shy 😁 and she’s already catching up to me!

user1 kidS? hmmm

user2 last time i remember, fernando only has 1 kid 🤨🤨🤨🤨

jensonbutton little alonso! i remember when she used to hide behind you in the paddock! look at her now!

fernandoalo_oficial she still does! 😂

aussiegrit you’re making us feel old, mate! lovely to see you two enjoying St. Moritz.

fernandoalo_oficial ❤️

user3 we need little alonso on instagram!! 😩

fernandoalo_oficial she’s a social hermit, good luck convincing her to be on any social media 😂

user3 OHMGYGSKD I LOVE YOU!!

user4 nando out here calling his own daughter social hermit HEUHFJENDNX I CANT

user5 imagine if little alonso has her own instagram, there would be world peace

user6 omg i KNOW! we all know that her instagram feed will be so gorgeous and aesthetic

user5 but we still love our social hermit queen, even if she’s not chronically online 💔

user6 always getting our little alonso crumbs from fernando himself

user7 little alonso crumbs LESGOOOO

user8 when is she joining social media? we need to know more about her!

fernandoalo_oficial she’s a social hermit, trust me, not happening anytime soon 😂

user8 OMFHFEHJDJSJSJS

user9 LITTLE ALONSO!!! 😭😭😭😭 we used to pray for times like this

landonorris posted a story!

liked by oscarpiastri, georgerussell63, lance_stroll, maxfewtrell, fernandoalo_oficial and others

user10 SIR???? 🤨🤨🤨🤨

user11 did you just yeet ur girl 😭😭😭

oscarpiastri THANK GOD! I’ll be expecting that free dinner soon until the end of season 😁

landonorris yeah yeah smh 🙄

oscarpiastri 😁😁😁

fernandoalo_oficial ❤️

fernandoalo_oficial you take care of her, alright? i trust you 👍🏻

landonorris don’t worry, she’s in good hands!

fernandoalo_oficial good.

lance_stroll i know fernando already gave you the talk, but still wanna say that you take good care of her

landonorris fernando and her grandpa gave me the talk, but don’t worry, i’ll take good care of her

user12 is this what i think it is????

user13 STOP THIS IS ACTUALLY SO CUTE IM GONNA CRY 😭😭😭

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, georgerussell63, lance_stroll and 3,749,837 others

landonorris ⛷️❤️

view all 45,748 comments

user14 STOP IT U GUYS ARE SO CUTE 😭😭😭

user15 lando out here winning sg gp and then having a new girlfriend 😔

oscarpiastri i’ll claim that free dinner until the end of the season ticket, please and a thank you as well

landonorris THANK YOU! 🫵🏻

user16 why can i hear lando’s reply 😭

georgerussell63 i see that you’re getting well acquainted with the family, huh? 👀

landonorris well, what can i say? 🤷🏻‍♂️

alex_albon so…you really bagged her, huh?

landonorris rizz god. all in a day’s work 😮‍💨

maxfewtrell you really had to take a photo before helping her…classic lando

landonorris can’t help it, too funny not to

maxfewtrell well, can’t wait to meet her!

landonorris I SWEAR I HELPED RIGHT AFTER THE SELFIE STOP ATTACKING ME 😣😣😣

carlossainz55 taking a selfie first? thought you’d be a gentleman, cabron

landonorris SHUT UP I HELPED OKAY

lance_stroll is that who i think it is? 🤔

landonorris 😁😁😁

pierregasly well well well, norris finally bagged the most elusive catch on the grid 😂

landonorris all thanks to oscarpiastri for giving me the pep talk. my #1 cheerleader 😍

oscarpiastri you guys don’t know the suffering i went through. almost wanted to drive myself up on the wall. better thank me on your wedding speech, i deserve it

user17 HALF OF THE GRID KNOWS WHATS UP!!! LET US IN!!!!

maxverstappen1 oh ho ho ho someone finally grew some spine!

landonorris 🫣🫣🫣

charles_leclerc have you already talked about the garage situation?

landonorris i believe that it’ll be non-negotiable, i’m afraid 😔💔

user17 garage situation??? gARAGE SITUATION??? WHAT WHAT

user18 guys, remember that time ages ago when he was spotted chatting with little alonso? that could be her?

user19 yeah, but she’s a really private person. girlie doesn’t even have socmed accs 😭

user20 that’s a bit of a stretch there

user19 not to mention that’s she’s literally shy by nature

user20 i know who’s also on a ski trip 👀

user21 the alonsos? nah, girlie’s shy af and mostly keep herself away from the spotlight

user20 but didn’t she came back to the paddock this season? could be her yk and lando’s just keeping it lowkey

user22 you guys are all over the place! it could literally just be a friend. RELAX! 😂

user23 not y’all really busting your braincells out there with just this post 😭🫵🏻

user24 CAN THIS PEOPLE GET ANY CUTER??? FIRST THE IG STORY AND NOW THIS???? 😭😭😭

user25 you guys need to stop assuming stuff. that’s literally not little alonso 🤥 she’s a really private person, never seen in public unless she’s with nando. it’s just probably one of lando’s friends…

user26 SPEAK YOUR TRUTH SIS!! people really out here assuming things 🤡

user25 TRUE

user27 i second that. can’t multiple people ski at the same time without connecting all these nonexistent dots together???

user28 if it’s really little alonso…how did he manage to bag nando’s daughter 😭😭😭 this man is playing 4d chess, i swEAR 😭😭😭

MATCH MADE IN HELL PT1 | MV1

an: i am slowly finally finishing off all my requests and this was one of them, i had so much fun and my dear friend loved reading this so i hope i did justice to the request. anyway max hmu x

wc: 2.2k

part two | part three

THE CHAMPAGNE WAS STILL STICKY when she found out.

She had spent the past hour celebrating—laughing, grinning until her cheeks ached, drinking in the sight of thousands of fans chanting her name. World Champion. The first female Formula 1 World Champion. The words tasted sweeter than the bubbly that had been poured over her head on the podium.

And then it all shattered.

She hadn’t even been looking for it. Her phone had been left abandoned in the motorhome while she basked in the euphoria of her win. It was only when she returned, still buzzing from the adrenaline, that she saw the messages. A handful of texts from a friend, a link, and a simple message that made her stomach turn cold.

I’m so sorry. You deserve better.

Curious, still lightheaded with joy, she clicked the link.

And there it was. Photos. A grainy shot of Nathan at a club in Monaco three months ago, another in Dubai during the summer break, then one just last week in Austin. Always with the same woman. A brunette with legs for days and a familiar smirk. Someone from the team, if she wasn’t mistaken.

Her throat closed up, fingers trembling as she scrolled, every image a knife to the gut. It wasn’t just a drunken mistake. It was calculated. Repeated. Lied about.

Nathan fucking Donovan. Her teammate. Her fiancé. The man she had trusted with her heart, her career, her future.

The sound of the paddock outside was muffled, drowned out by the rushing in her ears as she dropped her phone. For years, she had turned down every offer from Red Bull. They had been calling since her first podium, since her first win. They had wanted her, but she had always said no. Because of Nathan. Because she had wanted to win with him. Because they were a team, a partnership, a power couple.

She bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood.

She had been a fool.

By the time she lifted her head, the decision was made. She wiped her damp hands on her race suit and reached for her phone. The Mercedes crest on her chest suddenly felt suffocating, like a brand that no longer belonged to her.

Her fingers moved with a steadiness that surprised her as she typed out a message to her agent.

Call Red Bull. I’m ready to talk.

That was six months ago.

Now, she had her foot down on full throttle, fighting her teammate.

The roar of the Red Bull RB20’s engine vibrated through her bones as she flicked the car into the corner, tyres screaming as they clung to the edge of grip. Ahead of her, her teammate—Max Verstappen, two-time world champion and an arrogant bastard on his best days—held position, defending like his life depended on it.

It had been like this all season. A relentless, brutal fight for the title. They had the fastest car on the grid, Red Bull’s latest engineering marvel, but they weren’t teammates in any real sense of the word. No teamwork. No cooperation. Just war.

And she was winning.

Six months ago, she'd walked out of Mercedes with her head held high, ringless finger curled into a fist. The world had lost its mind. The media had spun its stories, her ex-fiancé—Nathan Donovan, lying, cheating, spineless piece of shit—had played the heartbroken victim, and the fans had taken sides. But she hadn’t cared then, and she didn’t care now.

Let them talk.

She’d spent years at Mercedes, loyal to a fault, standing by Nathan’s side because she’d thought they were a team, on and off the track. And he’d thrown it away. Lied to her face. Made a fool of her.

So, she’d made sure to humiliate him in return.

Signing with Red Bull had been the first strike. The second had been selling the place they lived in, after all it was in her name - not her problem that he had nowhere to live for two months.

Now, the third was coming—because with two races left in the season, she was leading the championship. And Nathan? A non-factor.

The thought made her press harder on the throttle. The car twitched under her, skimming the edge of disaster, but she held it steady. She was close. A tenth behind Verstappen, closing fast.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” her race engineer crackled through the radio.

She smirked.

Too late.

The gap was nothing now. Less than a tenth.

She was right on Max’s gearbox, weaving slightly in his mirrors, making sure he knew she was there. The car felt alive beneath her, the Red Bull’s aerodynamics biting into the tarmac, begging to be unleashed.

Final lap. Final sector.

Max was still defending, but she could see the cracks. He was too focused on keeping her behind, positioning his car to block, reacting rather than attacking. And that was his mistake.

She took the wider line into the penultimate corner, knowing he’d cover the inside. Then, in a move that was either genius or madness, she lifted off ever so slightly, making him think he’d done enough—before throwing everything into the exit.

Tyres screamed, her car twitched—then hooked. She got the drive she needed, rocketing past him just before the final turn.

Too late for him to do anything.

The chequered flag waved. She crossed the line first.

“YES!” Her own voice rang through the radio, pure adrenaline and triumph. “Fucking get in!”

Her engineer was shouting in her ear, the Red Bull garage was on their feet, and somewhere, she knew, Nathan was watching. Watching as she won. Watching as she proved, once again, that she was better than him.

The thought made the victory even sweeter.

She pulled up into parc fermé, hands shaking with the aftershock of adrenaline as she switched off the car. A second later, Max’s Red Bull rolled in beside her, stopping with just enough aggression to make his frustration clear.

She smirked.

Helmet still on, she climbed out, raising a fist to the cheering crowd before stepping onto the scales. Cameras flashed, capturing every second. She could already imagine the headlines.

She turned just as Max yanked off his helmet, dark blonde hair a mess, jaw clenched. He took one look at her, exhaled sharply through his nose, then muttered, “Fucking hell.”

She grinned. “That’s what you get for leaving the door open.”

His eyes narrowed. “That was not a door. That was a crack in the wall.”

She shrugged. “Still got through, didn’t I?”

Max let out a sharp breath, shaking his head, but there was something else in his expression. Not just frustration. Something almost… impressed.

He wouldn’t admit it. Wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. But she could see it, clear as day.

And the best part?

No matter how much of an arse he could be, she knew one thing for certain: he hated Nathan as much as she did.

banner-

The post-race press conference was the usual mix of adrenaline, exhaustion, and barely concealed hostility.

She sat in the middle, winner’s seat, hands wrapped around a bottle of water, pretending to listen as the moderator rattled off formalities. Max was to her left, arms crossed, jaw still set in frustration. Charles—third place finisher—was on her right, mostly just happy to be there.

The first few questions were routine. Race strategy, tyre management, overtaking opportunities. She answered smoothly, flashing the occasional smirk at Max whenever someone mentioned her overtake. Each time, his jaw tightened just a little more.

Then, inevitably, someone brought up Nathan.

A journalist from one of the more sensationalist outlets leaned forward, microphone in hand, voice dripping with feigned innocence.

“Amazing drive today, congratulations. Obviously, this is a huge result in the championship fight, but I have to ask—do you think your performance this season has been motivated at all by… personal matters? Specifically, your past relationship with Nathan Carter?”

The air in the room shifted.

She had heard a lot of bullshit in these pressers, but this? This was almost impressive in how blatant it was.

She opened her mouth, already crafting the sharpest, most dismissive response possible—

But Max got there first.

He leaned forward, elbow on the table, voice dripping with casual disdain.

“Yeah, mate, I’m sure she’s leading the championship because of her ex. Not because she’s fucking fast or anything.” He raised a brow. “You want to ask me if my performance is motivated by my tragic breakup in 2022? Or is this just reserved for women?”

Silence.

The journalist blinked, momentarily stunned. Then stammered, “I—I was just—”

Max tilted his head. “Just what?”

She bit the inside of her cheek, fighting back a smirk.

The moderator swiftly cut in, moving things along, but the damage was done. The clip would be everywhere within the hour, and Max knew it. He settled back in his chair, arms crossed once again, looking completely unbothered.

She glanced at him, just briefly.

Still not friends. But maybe, just maybe, a little less like enemies.

After the press conference, she barely made it two steps out the door before Max fell into step beside her.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” he said, casually twisting the cap off his water bottle.

She snorted. “For what?”

He gave her a pointed look. “For shutting down that absolute cunt before you could say something that’d get you fined.”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles.”

“Clearly.” He took a sip of water. “But I like watching them.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. She wasn’t about to admit it, but watching that journalist’s face crumble had been the highlight of her day—besides the win, obviously. And Max had delivered it with all the effortless arrogance of a man who lived to piss people off.

They reached their driver rooms, the doors right next to each other. She pushed hers open, stepping into the quiet, adrenaline still thrumming in her veins. Her suit was damp with sweat, her body still buzzing from the intensity of the race, but it was a good feeling. A victorious one.

She had just pulled her race suit down to her waist, reaching for a towel, when she heard a door open behind her.

Not hers.

Max’s, probably—except the footsteps that followed weren’t his.

A slow, deliberate clap echoed through the room.

“Well done. You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

Her entire body went rigid.

She turned.

Nathan stood in the doorway, arms crossed, face carefully neutral—but his eyes gave him away. Cold. Calculating.

She exhaled sharply through her nose. “What the fuck do you want?”

Nathan stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind him. “You need to cut the shit.”

She laughed, crossing her arms. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific, mate.”

His jaw tightened. “The comments. The narrative you’re letting people run with. It’s damaging my reputation.”

“Your reputation?” She arched a brow. “Pretty sure you did that yourself when you stuck your dick where it didn’t belong.”

His expression flickered, just for a second, before the mask slipped back into place.

“I’m serious,” he said, stepping closer. “I have lawyers. You keep dragging my name through the mud, and I’ll make sure it costs you.”

She tilted her head. “Is that a threat?”

He shrugged. “A warning.”

She scoffed, turning away, but he kept going.

“I mean it,” Nathan said, voice dropping lower. “This little act of yours—playing the scorned woman, running off to Red Bull like a child—it's pathetic. You think people actually respect you? They’re laughing at you.”

She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to stay calm.

“Must be humiliating,” he continued, almost conversationally. “Knowing you were just something to pass the time. A placeholder.”

Her fingers curled into fists.

Then he said it.

“Fucking whore.”

The door slammed open so hard it bounced off the wall.

Nathan barely had time to react before he was shoved backwards, his back hitting the wall with a dull thud. A forearm pressed hard against his throat, holding him in place.

Max.

His entire body was tense, his usually sharp, arrogant expression now twisted into something far more dangerous.

Nathan made a strangled noise, trying to push him off. “What the—”

“Say that again,” Max said, voice low, lethal.

Nathan swallowed, his eyes flicking to her.

Max pressed harder. “Go on. I fucking dare you.”

Silence.

Nathan was many things—arrogant, selfish, manipulative—but he wasn’t stupid.

Max held him there for a moment longer, just to make a point, then finally let go, stepping back like Nathan wasn’t even worth the energy.

Nathan straightened his shirt, swallowing whatever insult he’d been about to throw. His eyes flicked between them, then he scoffed. “You two deserve each other.”

Then he turned and walked out.

The second the door shut, the room was quiet again.

Max exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off the tension. “Fucking hell.”

She blinked at him, still processing what just happened. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He turned to her, dark eyes unreadable. “Yeah, I did.”

And then, just like that, he walked out, leaving her standing there, pulse racing, wondering what the hell just happened.

part two...

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow @isaadore

girlfriend reveal // mv1 smau

description: norris!reader x mv1

y/d/n = your daughter’s name

a/n: all pics from pinterest, i don’t own any. here’s a smau for my inactivity. i feel some motivation coming back so keep an eye out for some posts!

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 11,738 others

ynnorris: happy moments in spain 🇪🇸

view all comments

landonorris: how dare you not even put your favourite brother in this dump

user1: lando in the bucket hat on the last slide 😇

↳ user2: lando posted earlier today that he was in the uk…

↳ user3: WHO’S IN THE LAST SLIDE YN?!

user4: cutest mum ever!

danielricciardo: i miss my fav norris and niece. im sure she misses her fav uncle

↳ landonorris: im right here…

↳ charles_leclerc: YOU’RE HER FAVOURITE UNCLE? 🤣🤣🤣

↳ carlossainz55: yn’s in spain so clearly im the favourite

↳ oscarpiastri: Nah, it’s me

↳ ynnorris: none of you (besides lando) have any relation to me… you claimed yourselves to be y/d/n’s uncles

↳ landonorris: that means im the favourite uncle 😁

↳ ynnorris: no.

user5: anyone else wondering who’s in the second pic?

↳ user6: yes, prob her kids dad though

↳ user7: idk why she keeps y/d/n’s dad so private and secretive

↳ user8: im going crazy trying to figure out who that is

↳ landonorris: mwahahahaha 😈

liked by maxverstappen1, ynnorris, and 943,291 others

landonorris: summer break has been summer breaking (im the fav AND ONLY uncle)

view all comments

ynnorris: awww you have matching necklaces with your boyfriends, that’s so cute! how dare you not include me in this photo dump.

↳ landonorris: get out of my comment section!!

↳ maxverstappen1: Matching necklaces are in now

ynnorris: now why is my daughter behind the wheel of a car…

↳ landonorris: fake news.

user9: UNCLE LANDO

user10: he will be the best dad one day

↳ ynnorris: please god no.

user11: i love how lando put his niece in his photo dump but not his own sister

↳ user12: he’s a comedian rlly

liked by ynnorris, charles_leclerc, and 683,917 others

landonorris: sister got mad for not being included in the photo dump so here is my big sister and my big sister only!

view all comments

ynnorris: lando. when i catch you lando.

maxverstappen1: yn supremacy!

↳ user13: now what is this.

↳ user14: are we interrupting something?

danielricciardo: those were NOT your cheezits…

↳ ynnorris: im so (not) sorry, y/d/n made me

↳ danielricciardo: nuh uh. don’t you dare pin this on my sweet little angel baby of a niece

↳ landonorris: she’s half norris and half [redacted], don’t put it past her

↳ user15: don’t be shy lando. tell us who the father is

↳ user16: win incoming if you tell us who y/d/n’s dad is

↳ user17: WHO IS YN’S BABY DADDY LANDO NORRIS

user18: the minion toy in the pocket has me dying

user19: we want uncle lando back! even though brother lando is cute too

user20: lando is such a younger brother for posting these pics

liked by carlossainz55, schecoperez, and 819,004 others

maxverstappen1: Summer break ✅. Up next Zandvoort!

view all comments

user21: MAX VERSTAPPEN SOFT LAUNCHING?!

↳ user22: i used to pray for times like these

danielricciardo: okay mr verstappen, i was unfamiliar with your game

↳ maxverstappen1: You have been very familiar with my game

↳ ynnorris: pause. 😧

↳ danielricciardo: hate us cuz you ain’t us 🤷‍♂️

landonorris: no pic credits for the second pic?

↳ maxverstappen1: I have been paid by yn to not give pic credits for people who post bad photos of her

↳ landonorris: traitor

user23: what is it finna play? WOAH

user24: how did we go from cute stingrays to a soft launch

user25: girlfriend reveal now!

user26: walk with me people… yn posts a pic at an aquarium with someone holding y/d/n… max posts a pic of stingrays which are found… at an aquarium

↳ user27: tons of the drivers take y/d/n places with yn, don’t make it weird

user28: max ‘soft launch’ verstappen

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 12,058 others

ynnorris: started zandvoort a mclaren fan, finished zandvoort a red bull fan because i only support winners!

tagged: landonorris

view all comments

user28: the caption has me dying

landonorris: too close to home

↳ ynnorris: win next time then

↳ landonorris: at least y/d/n is still a fan of mclaren

↳ maxverstappen1: Is she though?

↳ redbullracing: is she really?

mclaren: im hurt yn.

↳ ynnorris: it wasn’t you admin, it was me.

oscarpiastri: ouch.

↳ ynnorris: if i ever say i dislike mclaren, never am i talking about you! team 81 all the way

↳ landonorris: wow. i post 3 bad photos of you and now im hated

↳ oscarpiastri: 🙂 thx yn

redbullracing: ❤️💙

user29: uncle lando!!

user30: never wrong yn ✍️

liked by ynnorris, landonorris, and 1,028,564 others

maxverstappen1: Heard people say I should do a girlfriend reveal and I would love to! I can’t do that anymore and haven’t been able to for a few years now but I offer a wife and daughter reveal ❤️

tagged: ynnorris

comments on this post are restricted

landonorris: FINALLY I DONT HAVE TO KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT

↳ danielricciardo: real.

↳ carlossainz55: real.

↳ charles_leclerc: real.

↳ oscarpiastri: real.

↳ schecoperez: real.

↳ mclaren: real.

↳ redbullracing: real.

ynnorris: best dad on earth

↳ maxverstappen1: Best mum on earth

ynnorris: been a long time coming now

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 29,371 others

ynnorris: heard we were hard launching?

tagged: maxverstappen1

view all comments

user31: my brain hurts

user32: bro what.

user33: didn’t see this coming

maxverstappen1: My girls ❤️

↳ ynnorris: baby no. 2 when? 🤔

↳ landonorris: threw up in my mouth a little

landonorris: now you can show your love on the internet and not in front of me

↳ ynnorris: never!

↳ maxverstappen1: Never!

↳ user34: poor lando

user35: they’re so cute 😭

user36: dad max?!

redbullracing: so when is little miss y/d/n taking over the red bull legacy?

↳ ynnorris: nope.

↳ maxverstappen1: Have to agree with the mrs. 🙃 (when she can reach the pedals of a kart)

↳ ynnorris: you’re so funny!! 😐😐

— EVANGELINE’S PAGE💌

୨ৎ ‘maybe some of us aren’t good at anything’

୨ৎ redbull, ferrari, and mclaren

୨ৎ I write, and then procrastinate, and then post, and then critically judge my ability to write

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ masterlist

Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar

my graphic designer friend help make this for me because I asked nicely ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

Formula One - One Shots

Charles Leclerc Leap of Faith || CL16 - fluffy blurb Too Good Prequel || CL16 -angst/fluff Going Public || CL16 - fluffy blurb A Little Longer || CL16 - fluff/smut request Pick Ups || CL16 - blurb Expensive Affection || CL16 - request Licence to Thrill || CL16 - request All That Matters || CL16 - hurt/comfort Undercover || CL16 - angst/hurt/comfort Fallen || Bonus || CL16 - supernatural au Your Safe Place || CL16 - hurt/comfort A Step Too Far || CL16 - hurt/comfort Mistakes || CL16 - angst/smut Little Lion Man || MV1 & CL16 - Mafia!AU What a Mess || CL16 - smut Used to be Young || CL16 - hurt/comfort The Bucket List || CL16 - hurt/comfort Harmony || CL16 - fluff Grounded || LN4 & CL16 - fluff Ghost Whisperer || CL16 - hurt/comfort Life Lessons || CL16 - smut For the love of god(dess) || CL16 - fluff/angst

Max Verstappen Too Good || MV1 - angsty blurb Tangled Up In You || MV1 - fluffy request Story Time || LN4 & MV1 - fluffy blurb Schrödinger's Cat || MV1 - blurb Little Lion Man || MV1 & CL16 - Mafia!AU F.I.N.E || MV1 - fluff The Real Prize || MV1 - smut

Lando Norris Sod’s Law || LN4 - blurb Say Please || sub!Lando - smut request The Exception || LN4 - blurb Story Time || LN4 & MV1 - fluffy blurb Dead Man Walking || Part Two || LN4 - angst/smut The Fine Line || LN4 - smut request Best Friends Share Everything || LN4 & CS55 - fluff Meet the Parents || LN4 - blurb We've Got Tonight || LN4 - angst/fluff Setting Him Free || Meant To Be || Yours, Always || LN4 - angst/happy ending Pretty Necklace || sub!Lando - smut Pity Fuck || Part Two || LN4 - smut Grounded || LN4 & CL16 - fluff Belle Mort || LN4 - smut You Came, You Called || LN4 - angst/fluff Life is like a Box of Chocolates || LandOscar - smut

Carlos Sainz Jr Afterglow || CS55 - smut request Addicted || CS55 - blurb Chilly Chilli || CS55 - blurb Best Friends Share Everything || LN4 & CS55 - fluff Red Flags || CS55 - smut

Misc. Romantic at Heart || DR3 - fluff Declaration of Independence || LS2 - hurt/comfort Bee Stings and Butterfly Kisses || SV5 - fluff Privacy || PG10 - angst blurb End of the Road || LH44 - angst/fluff Under the Mistletoe || OP81 - fluff Life is like a Box of Chocolates || LandOscar - smut

Back to Main F1 Masterlist

the ‘born to die’ series

summary; a series of written/smaus fiction of various formula one drivers based on releases of singer, lana del rey

f1 masterlist

norman fcking rockwell | daniel ricciardo pt 2

daniel proves that he is just a man and that’s just what he does.

the other woman | charles leclerc

after his engagement party, y/n realizes that she will always be the other woman.

ultraviolence | carlos sainz

carlos and y/n always find themselves going back to the same toxic relationship. no matter how hard they try, it just always felt like a kiss.

chemtrails over the country club | max verstappen

nobody’s son and nobody’s daughter finally find peace with each other after the toughness of their childhood.

carmen | lando norris

y/n was addicting to everyone, the boys and the girls. lando was just another one in her path to become ultimately addicted.

young and beautiful | oscar piastri

due to her pregnancy, y/n wonders if oscar will always love her, if he will love her after she’s had their baby, after she’s no longer young and beautiful

west coast | lewis hamilton

y/n leaves lewis due to the feeling of being held back from consistently traveling to his races, only to realize how much she missed him.

say yes to heaven | george russell

3 important times during y/n’s and george’s relationship where she says yes to heaven

margaret | alex albon

moments when alex’s knows that y/n is the one for him. when he knows that he will spend the rest of his life with her.

american | logan sargeant

y/n was never one to mess around and rebel against her parents, until she met a fellow american, logan

pretty when you cry | pierre gasly

y/n will always wait for pierre, no matter how many times he leaves her crying, she will always wait.

salvatore | esteban ocon

after living a life full of cold exes, y/n never expected to find her ‘salvatore’ during a summer in monaco

million dollar man | lance stroll

in the world of her million dollar man, y/n can’t help but feel like a lost puppy and stick out like a sore thumb leading to mess of jumbled feelings

born to die | fernando alonso

coming from two different worlds, two different generations with two different goals in life, fernando and y/n question if they were really born to die

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

note; i've been meaning to do this series since norman fcking rockwell lol, but it's finally here! it may take some time to do everything but bear with me! and which fic I post may not be in order as listed!!