Lando Norris

People included: Derreck, Siena, Phia, Mikmik, Thea, Ara, & Sha.

I met people because they were my boyfriend’s friends but even though they became a unique friend to me. When I was alone or having problems they never failed to listen and understand me.

The other four teaches me maturity in life to be honest. That is why they hold a special place in my heart because of how they carry themselves. Strong & Independent women you might say.

---

inspired by my fav @piastrification thank you for being in my walls 🫶🫶 hope you enjoy!!

Streets ♥️

Max Verstappen x PR Manager!Reader

we play our fantasies out in real life ways, and no final fantasy, can we end these games, though?

6 months ago, F1 champion Max Verstappen traded in his status as "serious cat dad with road rage issues" for "Genius. Playboy. Millionaire. Philanthropist". Since then you've been fighting absolute demons as his PR manager to keep his reputation clean in the media. After you tell him you've had enough, he proposes a very interactive solution to your problem.

Content includes: Humour, crackfic, fluff, so much sexual tension, 18+ MDNI, smut, playboy!max, exasperated manager! reader, a very well rounded fic for once?!

If someone asked you where it’d all gone downhill, you’d have to say it started because of that goddamn greedy paparrazi rat Henri - photographer at the MonacoDaily, otherwise known as every PR manager’s sleep paralysis demon. Because this particular paparazzo had a nasty knack for capturing celebrities just as they made the most atrocious decisions known to mankind. And he had an even nastier knack for threatening to sell said photos to the highest bidder. Truly, it was a dark day for any media team when they were forced to bargain with such a foul demon, who’d be able to go toe to toe with the likes of Satan himself.

So when your phone dinged at 5am on a peaceful Sunday morning, only to reveal the 7th (7th!!) message this month from the very same greedy little rat, you threw it across the room. Only to then remember you devastatingly had not been born into a Dubai oil family and you needed this job to pay Monaco rent. The text turns out to be a photo of your aggravating client - Max Verstappen, F1 champion driver, loving father to two cats, and more recently, certified manwhoreTM. He’s living upto your nickname for him, pictured in some nightclub with a half naked blonde sitting on his lap. Alright, alright, not as bad as you were expecting, you could even photoshop the girl’s hair colour to match his current girlfriend’s one maybe? Well, except the brunette woman glaring behind him is his current model girlfriend of the month. You hear a ding, another text from Henri - this time with just a 😈 and 💸👀. You throw the phone back against wall.

Three hours later you’ve cleaned up the PR nightmare and are banging on Max’s apartment door. He blearily lets you in, shirtless and still looking half drunk, but you don’t hesitate to yank him by his beltloops and drag him to the dining table (after quickly checking out that broad chest of his, though, cause goddamn. You’re just a girl.)

Ow, ow, what the hell, Max groans as he’s shoved into a chair. Please. As if you could do any real damage in your 5 foot frame to the 6 foot driver. Slamming your hands on the table for some dramatic flourish (you’re never beating the theatre kid allegations) you give the Dutchman a piece of your mind, demanding to know what his problem is, does he know how many people you’ve had to bribe this month to stop #SluttyMaxEra trending on twitter?? And yes, you know he broke up with Kelly 10 months ago but can’t he just process this healthily and go to therapy instead of having a hoe phase and hooking up with every third woman in Monaco?

Max looks insulted at this slight to his honor. He retaliates by accusing you of buying into the patriarchy and slut shaming him (-That’s not how that works but pop off king, is your deadpan response), and telling you he’s very much over Kelly, okay, it was an amicable breakup (-Sure, Verstappen, that’s why you’d only played Lana Del Ray for a whole month afterwards, huh?) and well, what’s the issue, he’s a hot and rich guy in Monaco, it’s not his fault women just want him? Would it not be #misogynistic of him to deny women the opportunity to explore their sexuality?! He smirks, pleased with his defence.

You groan, slumping down on a chair and burying your face in your hands, muffling your groan of wholesome cat dad Max comeback whennn. Max rolls his eyes at your theatrics, asking if you’d finally lost the plot.

You try cleaning up the PR messes you’ve been making, Max Emilian, you hiss furiously, remember Ibiza? Santorini? The goddamn yacht party over summer break when he got with the captain and her deputy?! (Even now, thinking of that leaking online gives you heartburn.)

Which yacht, Max says cockily, the one where he got with them one after another or at the same time?

Your jaw drops. You hadn’t even known about the threesome, so you suppose you should be grateful that wasn’t another mess to clean up. But a deeper, insecure part of you can’t help but wonder why the only woman Max doesn’t seem to want is you.

And sometimes you can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to be one of his girls, under his strong body for once instead of on the other side of his hotel wall, having to drown out the very satisfied female moans and headboard bangs with noise cancelling headphones. Like always, you push that thought down quickly.

You, good sir, are for the streets, you announce, standing up and deciding it was time to leave before your delulu, jealous thoughts decided to resurface. Seriously, you mutter under your breath, you didn’t care if his current side quest was to fuck 10 times a week, but could he at least stick to one person for a bit and not make more work for you-

Max’s hand slams the front door back closed as you started to open it. You freeze, turning back to look at him cockily smirking down at you. You hadn’t expected him to follow you down the hallway and you gulp nervously for the safety of your job - you might have taken the roasting a bit too far.

Instead, you get a sly, Oh, so I can do whatever I want, wherever I want, just with one person?

At your awkward nod, because yes, that would significantly ease your workload, he continues, enjoying teasing his uptight, pretty manager - then were you gonna offer yourself up? After all, there’s no PR messes to find out about if it’s you, right?

You blink at Max, completely stunned by the 180 this conversation has taken. Your expression is so adorable that he couldn’t resist a you’re so cute when you’re acting all jealous, you could’ve just asked if you wanted him to fuck you, ya know?

That promptly reminds you what an absolute cocky manwhore you’re dealing with. RIP celibacy era Max, you’ll always be famous.

Um, absolutely fucking not, keep your STDs to yourself, you hiss, flushing head to toe, and furious at the desire in you to give into the devilish proposal. He encourages you to think about it, still smirking, relaxing his grip so you can mercifully flee far away from his intense gaze. Jesus, when did he learn to rizz a girl up like that?!

You don’t take his proposal seriously at all, ignoring his cocky looks at you over meetings all week (also, he’d texted you his clean STD result to assure you he was a #SafeSexKing.) But that weekend, your refusal comes back to haunt you when you’re on a well deserved night out with your girlfriends and your PR manager senses start going off. You narrow your eyes as you spot Max in the dark corner of the nightclub, hands all over a mystery redhead. She’s not going to be a mystery much longer though - if you’d spotted them it was a matter of time before fan’s phones did and then you’d wake up to another goddamn text from your sleep paralysis demon, Henri.

You don’t even have to think about it twice. Saying goodbye to your friends, you’re at Max’s side at a very impressive speed given your 6 inch stilettos and tight sparkly minidress, and once again dragging him off by the beltloops and into an open bathroom.

He lets you yank him away, smirking when he sees you lock the door for good measure. Sweetheart, he greets. So good to see you. Finally realised you couldn’t resist me?

You practically climb him like a tree while telling him to shut the fuck up and pay attention at media training day next time, because what kind of PR crisis did he have unfolding out there? And just this once you’ll help him out, you say breathlessly in between deep kisses, but this isn’t a regular thing -

There’s not much more talking from you because he has you moaning up against the wall next, fingers buried inside your tight little pussy as he talks you through an orgasm, and then another when he splits you in half on his cock. (Once again, manwhore, who carries a condom in their jean pockets?!)

Unfortunately for your self control but very fortunately for your sex life, it is not in fact, a “one time thing”. Your trusty rose vibrator is glad for the break as you’d been taking your year long frustrations at your dry spell out on her. Especially when coming home after staying in hotels where you’d had to book out rooms neighbouring Max’s, so no one else overheard the raunchy vocals of different women every night.

Like Max said, with you, there were no more illicit PR messes to find out about in the middle of the night. You’d redirect him everytime he gave you bedroom eyes (At the pre race debrief. Post race debrief. Weekly team plan meeting. Over zoom calls? Seriously?) - gently taking his large hand and guiding him to a much more hidden, PR crisis-friendly area. To your surprise, Max actually sticks to his word and only hooks up with you - admittedly, multiple times a week (Not that you’re complaining. Turns out he was just as good in bed as he was on the track. Except this time he was definitely not finishing first...)

And for a while, everything is going well. There are no more weekly scandals scattered across trashy celeb magazines about Max. Your boss is gushing with praise, so impressed that you’ve finally managed to talk some sense into Redbull’s problem child (ah, if only she knew, but she never would, because the goddamn CIA couldn’t torture this info out of you) and best of all, you haven’t gotten a text from papparazzi rat Henri in weeks!

So of course, Max Verstappen decides that things are getting just a little bit too quiet for his liking, you had to earn your generous PR manager salary, that he paid for, right? His new, numerous tactics to stir the pot had included:

Going to clubs with no private bathrooms so you’d had to sit on his lap in the VIP lounge as he pulled your panties to the side to slide into you, barely hidden under your flimsy dress. You’d held back your moans and prayed the bass was too loud for anyone to hear

Sitting right next to you at every team dinner or business meeting so that he could sneak a large hand up your thigh and tease your pussy for fucking hours, often just as you were about to speak. And when you’re clenching the table so hard your fingers were white, he’s bending under the table to pick up a pen or something but instead left teasing licks and kisses on your aching core. You'd learnt very quickly not to wear a skirt.

Picking you up in his 2 seater Aston Martin instead of the much more appropriate discreet, spacious, 5 seater Audi he owned - so when he was too pent up after a bad practise session to wait till he got home, he'd get you to go down on him right there in the car, sometimes even as he drove, instead of parking in some hidden backstreet. It was so dirty, that he needed you so desperately that he didn't care about being caught by anyone peeking in through the half tinted windows. Because if they did look, they’d find his head thrown back in pleasure as he moans, his fingers tangled in your curls as he moved your drooling, pink lips up and down his wide cock-

Anyways, you get the picture. And he’d escalated this all the way to the paddock, which was insane because there were always multiple cameras trained on the current F1 champion. It’s the one place you two couldn’t sneak off without a very high risk of being caught, as evidenced by the one and only time he'd managed to get under your skin in the garage. He'd had you pinned up against the wall in some narrow side hallway as he whispered how fucking sexy you’d looked today, wearing his hoodie to cover up the hickies you hadn’t realized you’d woken up with and paired with some tiny denim shorts. Having the 6 foot champion huskily groan that he couldn’t focus on his free practise everytime you bent over to pet a passing dog, or when you innocently sucked on the Redbull flavoured lollipops and then the goddamn ice cream from the truck they’d brought in - was quite the power trip, you admit. So you guided his lips from your neck as he tries to add to the growing bruises on your neck and redirected him to your waiting lips instead, steamily making out as his large hands squeezed your thick ass like he’d been thinking about all day-

Max?!?

You instantly pull back from the driver and turned to see a flabbergasted looking GP - Max’s race engineer. His jaw is wide open as he looked at you two with round eyes. You’re fumbling to explain, trying and failing to push Max back - who looks rather annoyed at the intrusion and semi-glares at GP with narrow eyes. You hiss at the younger man to stop being rude and slip underneath his arms, going over to guiltily apologise to GP only to be met with You too?! How did he get you in his bed, you hated how much of a slut he was! Seriously, does he have a magical dick or something? Now you stare at GP in shock, unsure of how to respond to his question while Max starts snorting and laughing behind you. You make him join you as you promise to GP that he will never have to witness such a scandalous site again, because there will be no unprofessional behaviour of any sort on the paddock after "BootyShorts Gate" as you thereafter dub the incident. Regardless, GP still shoots you both wary glances and begins the habit of announcing his arrival and waiting 10 seconds before turning a corner in the garage, earning him many an odd look. Dramatic, really, was this where Max gets it from?

Max, of course, was very displeased with this new “professionalism” rule you'd set down - on the paddock was when he'd get the most tense, the most horny and desperate to have you underneath him, after all - and he made sure you knew it. You deliberately ignored his heated gaze on you as you interviewed him, or his lingering touches when he helped you hold your microphone up to his much taller frame, large hand wrapped around your small ones clutching the mic. Or his recent favourite, which involved standing next to you to help pick out the insta pics post-race (something he'd notoriously always hated to do) - except now, he conveniently happened to be shirtless, his toned abs and broad shoulders on display, running a hand through his sweaty tousled hair.

This last seduction tactic had sent you fleeing to Checo's garage to seek out the other Redbull driver's PR manager and beg on your knees for a client swap, surely, the sponsor benefits are legendary for whoever Max's PR manager is -

Nope. Nuh uh, no way, Checo is the breeziest driver ever to look after. The other manager pauses. Well, except for the occasional political military coup scandal in Mexico. But still, I'd take that any day over El Manwhore.

You wailed at whatever Gods had decided to curse you and took matters into your own hands, furiously plotting up social media campaign idea after idea that were exactly the kind of thing Max hated with a burning passion - hoping it would get him to back off on his tactics and wave a white flag. From viral TikTok challenges, to making him read all his cringe 2008 tweets, and even making him play fuck, marry, kill with the drivers of the grid. You'd admit, that last one had been rather funny to watch, making you chuckle as you scrolled through the comments, liking "Can't believe we got Max Verstappen saying he would fuck Lewis, kill Pierre and marry Charles before GTA 6" and "does Redbull admin know she posted this on main?!"

But despite your best efforts, it didn't seem to deter Max. If anything, he'd begrudgingly do the task and end up laughing excitedly at you - who was holding the camera - about some joke or the other and make your stupid heart flutter. You knew you definitely should not be catching feelings for your client - who'd made it very clear his interest in you was only physical. But no one needed to know that sometimes you’d log into your fake account to like the "Who got max giggling and kickin his feet and shit?" comments.

Meanwhile, Max had caught wind of your desperation for an escape attempt with Checo’s manager and had upped the ante, slyly mentioning to Christian Horner than you were doing such a great job as his PR manager, could he pretty please have you promoted to his general manager for his non racing publicity too?

And that's how you found yourself scowling at a Dior Sauvage photoshoot, despite your adamant protests to Horner. You were putting your Masters of Business Adminstration, first class honours, to fantastic use by babysitting a 26 year old child who liked fast cars that went vroom vroom. The only redeeming factor is that you can leave the unflattering Redbull shirt at home since this wasn't for F1 publicity and instead wear a nice outfit for once. Still, you thought it was odd that Max had so easily accepted this campaign, as he wasn't normally one to enjoy doing PR.

A few minutes later you've figured out exactly why your favourite manwhore had agreed to this campaign, because he's smirking at you while posed shirtless, toned abs and broad shoulders all on display as some pretty, busty model is draped over him. The photographer is making this even more painful for you by dragging out the shoot, making Max and the model reposition herself multiple times. You roll your eyes at the scene, because obviously they're two very good looking people who will look good together no matter what, did the photographer really need to be so extra? You stalk off at some point to make yourself a hot chocolate in the hopes it'll sooth the flames of jealousy that are threatening to consume you right now. Max approaches you when a break is called, running a teasing hand along your waist from the back and whispering you looked so fucking hot in this tight maxi dress, making you nervously look around to see if anyone noticed. Luckily, all the staff appeared busy and didn’t look in the dim corner you'd settled into to do paperwork. You hiss at him to keep your hands to yourself, Verstappen making him grin and inform you that's not what you’d said last night, in fact, you were practically begging for him to do the exact opposite-

You're glaring up at him, seriously contemplating if it’s worth breaking your contract clause to "act in the client's best interests" and mauling him with your laptop when the photographer comes up to you both with narrowed eyes. You guiltily step back, thinking he overhead Max's suggestive comments, but instead he just looks back and forth between you two contemplatively. Then, just as you were about to ask him what the issue was, he announces that you'd be replacing the model as the female for the shoot. No questions asked! he announces as you try to protest and snaps his fingers at the makeup and wardrobe artists to demand they sort you out (he gestures rather dramatically to your whole figure when he says this, making you scowl).

So that's how you find yourself dressed in a silky gold minidress with a sultry eye look, pressed up against Max's broad chest and trying not to focus on the intimate position you two are in. Max, however, has no such qualms about the position, using it to tease you further. You've been looking extra tense lately, sweetheart, he breathes, those devilish lips brushing past your ear. I know a great way to make you relax? You growl at him to shut the fuck up because oh my god, did he know how many cameras are pointed at you both right now? Besides, you mutter under your breath, it seemed like he was very interested in relaxing with that blonde model earlier.

Fighting to keep the smug look of his face, Max whispers back that there was No need to be jealous, schatje, you were the only one getting access to his magical dick. So caught up in the game you two are playing, you don't even register the photographer excitedly snapping up pictures, proclaiming that he knew it, the chemistry between these two is unbelievable!

Afterwards, as you're walking off the photoshoot, feeling all hot and bothered from Max's hands running across your exposed skin, shamelessly looking you up and down, the blonde Dutchman catches up to you. He teases you that you were going to get wrinkles at 25 if you didn't stop scowling all the time. I'm older than you, you scoff back, by a whole 6 months, in fact, so maybe you should actually listen to me for once instead of pissing me off? No problem, Max agrees, after all, he's always had a thing for MILFs. You can't help snort at his retort and then start laughing when he tries to maintain an innocent look. At least you were away from the cameras in case someone heard this, you mused.

Unfortunately, you both don't notice MonacoDaily's ratbag paparrazo, Henri, hiding in nearby shrubbery with his camera. It had been far too long without a Verstappen news scandal, he thought with a satisfied smirk as he clicked away.

And later than night, after you'd eaten the chicken stir fry he'd cooked and rewatched Cars 2 (a surpassingly more regular occurrence, these days, to unwind with him at the end of the day instead of immediately being mauled the second you stepped foot in his apartment) you made sure he followed your orders for once. Sitting him back, telling him just how bad he'd been today with all his teasing (-well, it worked, didn't it, sweetheart?) you showed him just how good you were at playing the game, too. And soon, he was breathlessly moaning underneath you as you rode him for the first time, gripping his cock like you were going to milk every last drop, teasing him with just enough pace to get him worked up but not enough to send him over the edge. And you only let him cum inside you when he begged you sweetly, making you go fuzzy at the sight of the infamous Redbull playboy being so desperate for you, and only you.

Afterwards, once you've shampooed each other's hair in the shower while gossiping about how catty that makeup artist had been, really, to imply that your pretty curls had been the problem and not her shitty styling? and Max has got you spooned against him, warm in an old hoodie of his, pressing a goodnight kiss to your forehead, you can't control the warmth blossoming in your chest any longer. And as a content sleep takes a hold of you, you can't help but wonder if Max's affections went beyond physical attraction, just like yours’ were now doing.

It turned out the opportunity to find out this answer would come the very next day, when the ding of your phone wakes you up in the early hours of the morning. It’s a very specific sound that you've set for a certain ratbag - and you get war flashbacks, hearing it now after so long. Scrambling off the bed, ignoring Max's muffled groans as you shove his heavy arm of you, you unlock your phone and gasp in horror as your suspicions are confirmed. Henri has arisen from the ashes and this time it's to deliver his sauciest scandal yet. Because a picture tells a 1000 words, sure, but he has the two of you on a goddamn video, flirting and giggling at each other as you exited the studio yesterday. There's no chance of you talking your way out of this one, as Max's large palm wanders to give your thick ass a firm squeeze as he guides you into his passenger seat. Goddamn, you knew you shouldn't have worn that tempting skims maxi dress - Max was an ass (and tits) man who couldn't be trusted to control himself in public. BTW already sold this 🥸 Henri texts. Just a courtesy FYI cuz I brought a boat with the bag from this one ✌️

You contemplate if it would be better to disappear off the face of the planet, or get plastic surgery to become unrecognisable as you chug your morning Redbull while moodily looking over the Monaco sunrise. Max joins you after a few minutes, looking extremely cute as he rubs the sleep out of his baby blue eyes and asks you what's wrong, schatje.

Taking a deep sigh (like you said, #DramaKid), you break the news. I’m going to hold your hand while I say this (- that’s really not necessary, Max interrupts) - but you know celibacy exists, right? As does having sex in a private location without the risk of being arrested for public indecency?

True, Max agrees, but what was the fun in that? Besides, you were just too hot to resist. Ignoring the butterflies at his cheesy flirting, you hold up the incriminating video on your phone as proof that it was not all fun and games, as Henri had already sold this to multiple news outlets this morning, you inform glumly. Max is strangely silent, looking intently at the video and even replaying it a few times, his eyes crinkling as a soft smile appears on his face when he hears the sound of you two laughing. Then - in a truly unbelievable redemption arc plotline from the Monaco playboy - he asks if it would be so terrible, to have this made public, to let the world know that you were together?

Well, I - you stumble over your words, - I dunno, I thought you liked that? Keeping it secret cause you just wanted a convenient hook up?

Max is silent again. Then, looking uncharacteristically nervous, he says that's not what he wants, not really, not anymore - not since he'd fallen in love with you, somewhere along the 6 months of the friends with benefits/PR manager and her problematic client situationship you’d had. And like at the very start, you don’t even need to think about it twice. This time when you beam and gently kiss him, you make sure he can feel your love through it and know that you wanted more, too.

So you two walk into work that morning, holding hands in open defiance, ready for the world to see. You’re rather confused when no one seems to be paying much attention, instead frantically trying to get the set up ready for the pre race testing. Maybe you two had not been as indiscreet as you thought and people already suspected? Or maybe you two had a penchant for drama and thought you were the main characters when you clearly were not?

You look at each other, shrug, and you give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him you’ll see him for lunch at the kebab shop on the corner, before he wanders off to the garage. Maybe Henri had a change of heart and decided not to exploit innocents for fame and money, you ponder hopefully. Maybe there truly was good in the world, after all.

And then you hear your name being called and turn to see your boss standing behind you menacingly, hands on hips. Care to explain why #MaxLovesMILFS is trending right now?

Somewhere along the Monaco waterfront, a paparazzi rat skulking in the bushes sneezes.

—————————————————————————

A/N: again thank you so much to @piastrification for inspiring this piece!! So sorry for the delay and I hope you enjoy my attempt at branching out to other fics xx tysm to you all for the requests, I am working them into my upcoming fics!! 💖

PUPPY LOVE ★ CS55

PAIRING ✦ carlos sainz x fem!dog sitter!reader SUMMARY ✦ you work as a dog sitter, and you somehow wind up dog-sitting for a f1 driver. [ SMAU ]

WARNINGS ✦ cursing

NOTES ✦ reader lives in spain & can speak spanish, but isn't originally from spain ( you can decide where! ) i'm not a native spanish speaker, so please correct me if there are some inconsistencies! i know the dog i used for piñon isn't exactly accurate but please just pretend they look the same!! the fc i've used is christina nadin, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)

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liked by yourbsf, user1, and 205 others

yourusername i loveee my job 🐕💗

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yourbsf i think you love the dogs more than you love me

yourusername you'd be right about that ❤️

yourbsf mi mejor amigaaaa!! ( my best friend )

yourusername te amoooo💗 ( i love you )

user1 millie loveddd you! i'd love for you to sit for me again!

yourusername awww i loved millie too! thank you so so muchh 💗

carlossainz55

( caption: need a dog sitter! please reply with recommendations. must be located in Spain & can look after Piñon for just over a week )

yourbsf holaaa! my best friend is a dog sitter, and i'm sure she'd be happy to look after Piñon for you!

carlossainz55 That would be great! Could i have her instagram?

yourbsf sorry still in shock you actually replied LOL, it's @ yourusername!

carlossainz55 Muchas gracias!! ( thank you very much )

liked by yourbsf, carlossainz55, and 487 others

yourusername i look after a lot of dogs, but you will forever be my top bitch ( pun very much intended ) feliz cumpleaños daisy!! mami te quiere mucho 💗 ( happy birthday daisy!! mommy loves you very much )

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yourbsf FELIZ CUMPLEAÑOS DAISYYY!!

liked by yourusername

carlossainz55 Daisy es muyyy linda ❤️ ( daisy is veryyy cute )

yourusername siiii!! ( yessss!! )

user2 OMG CARLOS??

user3 SIR WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

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INSTAGRAM DMS

carlossainz55 Hey this is y/n, right?

yourusername NO WAY THEEE CARLOS SAINZ IS DMING ME

but yes it is :) anything i can help you with?

carlossainz55 Your friend mentioned that you were a dog sitter?

@/yourbsf

yourusername yeah i am a dog sitter!! did you need someone to look after ur dog?

carlossainz55 Yeah I did, actually!

I was wondering if you could look after my dog Piñon for the week? I’m going to be away, and my parents are away so they can't look after him right now

yourusername OH MY GOD YES

i'm so sorry that reaction was so out of character 😭😭 but yes i'd love to look after him!

carlossainz55 Muchas gracias! I'll message you further details later if that's alright?

yourusername ningún problema! yeah that's fine with me! :) ( no problem! )

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carlossainz55

( caption: Missing you already Piñon!! ❤️ )

yourusername

( caption: new best friend unlocked 🔓 )

carlossainz55 Umm he's actually my best friend??

yourusername nuh uh i've claimed him while you're away ❤️❤️

liked by yourbsf, carlossainz55, and 1,062 others

tagged carlossainz55

yourusername my latest charge is wayyy too cute 💗

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yourbsf can’t pick who’s cuter: you or piñon

yourusername we both know it’s piñon ❤️❤️

user4 wait who is sheee??

user5 carlos is in her likes!! i’m pretty sure that’s piñon she’s dog sitting ❤️

user6 whoever she is she is stunninggg!!

carlossainz55 Good to see that you’re looking after Piñon!

yourusername geniallll!! ( brilliantttt!! )

liked by yourbsf, carlossainz55, and 10,456 others

tagged yourbsf & carlossainz55

yourusername life recently 🪩

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user12 she is literally a goddessss!!

yourusername aw thank you baby!!

user13 y/n why do you look so angry in the first photo HELP

yourusername can’t remember but i think @/yourbsf had stolen some of my soft serve :(

user14 does she speak spanish??

yourusername when i was younger i moved to spain, so i can speak spanish fairly well!

user14 omg i can speak spanish asw!! eres tan bonita por cierto 💕 ( you are so pretty by the way )

yourusername muchas gracias!! 💗💗

user15 no daisy?? ☹️

yourusername daisy content will be returning, i promise!!

carlossainz55 ❤️

yourusername 💗💗

user16 stop theyre sooo cute i can’t handle it

yourbsf that pasta was so delicioussss

yourusername siii!!

user17 her replying to pretty much all of the comments is the cutest thing everrr she’s such a sweetheart

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liked by yourusername, charlesleclerc, and 967,599 others

carlossainz55 Training almost over 🤝

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charlesleclerc new season about to start 🏎️

carlossainz55 Yess 👊

scuderiaferrari exciting times ahead!

liked by carlossainz55

user18 woweeee

user19 hand in marriage yes or yes??

user20 i’m waiting for y/n’s comment

user21 sameee!!

yourusername that viewwww 💗

carlossainz55 The mountains or me??

yourusername don’t flatter urself hon 😊

user20 @/user21 HERE THEY ARE

user21 THEIR DYNAMICCC UGH

liked by yourbsf, carlossainz55, and 12,567 others

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yourusername last day w piñon ☹️💗 ft daisy!!

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user22 DAISY'S BACKKKK

user23 amamos a daisyyy!! ( we love daisyyy!! )

yourusername siii!! 💗

user24 ella es tan perfecta 💞 ( she is so perfect )

yourusername no tuuuuu 💗 ( no youuuu )

carlossainz55 Only one more day!❤️

yourusername ur saying that like it's a good thing :((

carlossainz55 You can always come and visit him!

user25 dont ask me why but i just KNOW she smells like vanilla

yourusername no stopp that's literally my perfume scent asw

user25 NO WAYYY LOOLLL

user26 @/carlossainz55 you taking notes??

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tagged carlossainz55

yourusername PIÑONNN!! ¡daisy y yo hemos pasado el mejor momento contigo esta semana! te amoooo 💗💗 ( daisy and i had the best time with you this week! i love you )

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user31 NO MORE Y/N AND PIÑON CONTENT NOOOO

yourusername ☹️☹️

user32 okay but surely this isn't the end of carlos and y/n...right?? RIGHT??

user33 no it acc can't be i'll never stop crying.

carlossainz55 Thanks again for looking after Piñon!! ❤️

yourusername ofccc!! you WILL let me visit him or else 😁

yourbsf okay but ur cute.

yourusername you're cuterrrr

user34 guysss this isn't the end i'm so sure they'll still be interacting w each other!!

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yourusername night away from the dogs 🌃

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user35 CARLOS CAN YOU FIGHT.

user36 hand in marriage?? 💍

yourusername betttt!! 💗

yourbsf MY BEST FRIEND LADIES AND GENTLEMEN

yourusername TE AMOOOO

carlossainz55 ❤️❤️

liked by yourusername

user37 SO WE ALL SAW CARLOS' COMMENT??

user38 TWO WEEKS ON AND HE'S BACK AGAIN

user39 idc they're too cute

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yourusername 📍bahrain 💗

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user45 THE FERRARI MERCH SHE KNOWS WHAT SHE'S DOING

user46 she's soo soft i love her

yourusername 💗💗

user47 SO IT'S BASICALLY CONFIRMED NOW

user48 the press have literally basically confirmed it for them, we're all just waiting until they say it themselves

yourbsf my best frienddddd 😁😁

liked by yourusername

carlossainz55 Red suits you ❤️

user49 HURRY UP AND ANNOUNCE IT PLEASE.

liked by yourusername, charlesleclerc, and 1,456,991 others

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carlossainz55 🏆 P3!! Great start to the season, and no one else I'd rather start it with ❤️

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user50 EVERYONE STAY CALM THIS IS FINALLY HAPPENING.

user51 BRB CURRENTLY SCREAMING

user53 PODIUM FINISH & HARD LAUNCH?? SOOO HAPPY RN.

user54 CARLOS SAINZZZZ ❤️❤️

yourusername 💗💗

carlossainz55 ❤️

user55 THE WAY SHE USES 💗 AND HE USES ❤️ MY HEART CAN'T HANDLE THIS

charlesleclerc about time 🙌❤️

user56 HA CHARLES IS A REAL ONE

user57 officially my favorite couple on the grid.

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yourusername forza ferrari 💗

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user58 hey alexa, play lover by taylor swift

yourusername omg i love taylor 💗💗

user59 if carlos ever fumbles you pls hit my line

yourusername @/carlossainz55 you've been warned!!

user60 POWER COUPLE ALERT

user61 she's actually so perfect it's scary

yourbsf FINALLY. I'VE BEEN WAITING.

liked by yourusername

user62 KILL ME NOW THEY ARE ADORABLE.

user63 the way she still likes all of the comments actually has me crying why is she the cutest.

carlossainz55 siempre ❤️ ( always )

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"Always Bella IV" - Jacob Black x Reader

Summary: Part IV to “Always Bella” Read Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part IV / Part V

I woke up to the soft snores of Quil on the couch next to me. His heat radiating off his body, almost lulling me back into a slumber.

Almost.

"Quil." I whisper. "Quil."

"Mhmmmmm." He groans, gripping his pillow harder.

I purse my lips, sighing before sitting up.

Jacob.

The overwhelming memories of last night replayed through my brain. I felt a chill run up my spine, followed by immediate displeasure.

Why didn't Quil let him see me? He knew how I felt.

But why couldn't I speak? Why couldn't I get up?

Why couldn't I say anything to Jacob?

I swung my legs off the couch quietly, grabbing Quil's slippers and stumbling out the front door. I look back to still see Quil fast asleep on the couch, his chest rising and falling with every slow breath.

I let out a sigh, quietly shutting the front door. I look at my car, weighing out my options.

Car is quicker, though much louder. Walking won't wake up Quil but it'll take a half an hour as opposed to the five minute drive. Oh the options.

Pursing my lips as I look between the car and the road for what seemed like a million times.

Walking.

Before I knew it, I was already at Billy's front door.

I went to knock, but my cold knuckles hesitated. I inhale sharply, slowly knocking on the door.

I heard some movement behind the door, to be met with Billy.

"Hi Billy, I know it's early but I really need to-" I noticed his eyes were bloodshot and filled to the brim with tears, his cheeks flushed with a red hue I had not seen in years.

Not since Sarah.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" I whisper, looking into his defeated eyes.

"(Y/N), he's gone." His voice croaked.

My blood went cold, suddenly my ears were ringing. I felt the world around me freeze.

"What?" I choke, almost gasping for air.

"He's gone. Jacob's gone. Sam is looking for him, but- but he's gone." His voice breaks. "All I have left is gone. I need my son." He buried his face in his hands.

I hung onto every word that Billy said, praying to a God I didn't believe in that they weren't true.

"Sam? Billy we need to call the police. What can Sam do?" I panic.

Billy turns to me, giving me a confused look. His eyebrow raises, when suddenly the once puzzled look turns into one of realization.

"You don't know." He mutters under his breath, his eyes widening as they stare into mine.

"What? What don't I know?"

"Read this first." He pulls an envelope off the table, handing it to me.

(Y/N).

I read my name, admiring Jacob's handwriting. Terrified to open it.

I look at Billy's tearful eyes before he nods towards the chair beside me.

I sit down, taking a deep breath; trying to build the courage to open this letter. I look up to see Billy watching me with sad eyes, I assume to see if I have more information in my letter about Jacob's potential whereabouts.

Dear (Y/N),

I'm sorry. I just, I can't be here anymore. It's all too... complicated.

Everything hurts. It's all too much. I've become something I don't want to be. I don't want this, but there's no escape.

I had to leave. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I've been treating you like shit. I just can't explain it.

I don't want you involved in this life.

But you are, unfortunately.

Though, I left. I don't want to be around you. Everything changed. If I stay, you're roped in far deeper than you would ever need to be.

I'm sorry (Y/N). I am.

I miss you, I do.

I just, I can't be there anymore. Not for my own sake, but mostly for your sake.

I'm sorry, I just don't want this.

I won't see you for a while, if ever again.

I wanted a choice. I want you to have a choice. I want us to have a say in our lives.

I love you.

Jacob Black

I sat there in disbelief. I felt all the air leave my lungs.

It was as if the world around me was no longer real. I could no longer hear properly, everything is muffled.

I closed the letter, looking up from my lap to meet eyes with Billy.

"I-I" I choke on my words. "I don't know where he went."

Billy sighs, as a hand is placed on his shoulder. I follow the hand, seeing Sam standing next to Billy.

"No luck, but we'll keep looking. I have Paul and Embry out looking right now." Sam gives Billy's shoulder a slight squeeze as he makes direct eye contact with me.

"Paul and Embry? Why not the police? How are they supposed to find Jacob? He's gone." I croak.

"I know he left before explaining, but you're entitled to know." Sam says sternly.

"Know about what? God, I'm so sick of not being in the loop while Bella Swan gets to know everything!" I yell, the anger burning within me.

"She's not supposed to know."

"Well she does. And I still do not." I scoff, tears falling from my eyes.

"Quil's waiting for you outside, I suggest you go meet him out there for now." Sam instructs.

I shake my head, looking at the man in disbelief. Who was he to tell me what to do.

But I couldn't be bothered. I quickly got up, bumping into Sam purposefully before walking outside to Quil.

His eyes portrayed a sadness that reflected my own as he stood against the hood of my car.

I walked over slowly, dragging my feet against the Earth.

I stopped in front of him, I took a deep breath.

"He's gone." I choke. "Quil, Jacob's gone." I feel my knees about to give out from under me. I walk into his large frame, burying my head into his chest.

"I know, love. I know." He coos, opening his arms to pull me into a hug.

I felt my tears fall onto his shirt as I melted into his touch.

Quil, the only person to make me feel like things could maybe be okay.

The only person left who can bring me back to Earth.

"Quil, what is going on?" I pull back, looking sternly into his eyes.

"(Y/N)-" He hesitates.

"No, I deserve to know. Because apparently it involves me a lot more than I was led to believe."

I pull the letter from my jacket pocket, holding it up to Quil. "So tell me now. Or I'm going to Embry." I let out the breath of air that was stuck in my lungs. "But you know I would rather hear it from you.

"Can I read it?" He pleads, nodding towards my letter.

"After you tell me exactly what is going on, Quil." I pull the letter behind me, looking up at him. "I deserve to know. I need to know why it hurts so bad." I look down at my feet. "Why does it hurt so bad?" I look up at his chocolate brown eyes, pleading with my own.

"Get in the car, we're going to our spot." He advises, looking back between me and the car before walking over to the driver's side.

I look at him, standing still. Trying to walk, despite my legs feeling like cement.

His eyes met mine, him motioning for me to get into the car.

And so I did.

I walked to the passenger side, silently opening the door and climbing in, taking a deep breath.

My mind raced with every thought imaginable.

Did Jacob come to say goodbye last night?

Could I have made him stay?

Was there something I did? Is there something I could do?

A sense of dread washed over me as I explored every possibility in my mind.

"Relax." Quil whispers, grabbing my hand and squeezing it lightly.

I look over to him, wondering how he always knows where my mind goes.

__________________________________________________

Read here: Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part IV / Part V

sorry for the delay I just work all the time, was in school full-time, and am beyond clinically depressed lol

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— 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

THE GREATEST — TRUE BLUE

[ part one / masterlist / requests are open ]

☽｡⋆ part 2 of THE GREATEST. he tried to live without you, but how is one to survive with a broken heart? a story based on TRUE BLUE by billie eilish. — lando norris x fem!reader (could technically be read as a stand-alone)

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst, hurt & comfort, hints of fluff (?) 𝄞 4.1k words

❝ Lights out, you’re not here holding me ❞

Lando had never before felt the way he did the day you left him. Seeing you walk through that door, intending to never come back to him ever again, it pained him. It took him too long to realize how much he hurt you, and now he had to suffer the consequences. He swore it wasn’t on purpose, but when his friends told him that also the third girl he had brought along since you broke up with him resembled you in a way, he stopped denying. There was no use. The guys knew, the internet knew, he knew that he wasn’t yet over you. And he thinks he never will be. You left an empty place in his heart, a place that would forever be reserved for you only and you only. No matter how hard he tried to find someone else, no one would ever be able to replace you.

The girl he brought to the first race after the summer break was long forgotten already.

At first, everyone around him believed him when he said he felt happier now without you. But the moment he went back to his old ways, the heartbreaker they’ve known for so long, they realized he wasn’t. The girls always looked like you. He only rarely smiled anymore and he couldn‘t care less about his friends‘ relationships, even going as far as faking a gag or simply not coming to hang out with them at all. He said it’s because he needs to focus on racing. They knew it was because of you. Lando was yet to tell them why the relationship ended. He’d rather crash his car and DNF in every race for the rest of his life than to ever have to talk about the night you left ever again. He felt embarrassed and bad and was so terribly regretful. Only his parents knew the whole truth. He told them with tears caressing his face just like you once did, and seeing the disappointment in their eyes, he felt his heart rip apart even more. They had loved you so much, only waiting for the day he would finally go down on one knee for you, and now he messed it all up.

If he could just go back and make it all alright. Make you feel unconditionally loved wherever you went, make you happy, keep you happy. He would change it all if he just had the chance, but he knew you deserved better. Maybe one day, he could be better again.

He is ready to give up the very thing for you that had made you leave him that night if you’d ask him to. Racing would never again mean as much to him as you, though broken up, still do to him.

He was currently seated in his McLaren, waiting for the lights to go out so he could try his very best to overtake max at the start already. He should have his mind on the track. He shouldn’t think about you, not here. But like always, he couldn’t help it. He hoped to see you in the stands once he was able to get out of the car again. He hoped to see you wave and smile at him, run into his arms and let him kiss you all over, do all the things he had failed to do so many months ago. He knew it wouldn’t happen. He believed anyway. The lights went out and the cars began moving. He tried his best, he always did, but he wasn‘t afraid to lose anymore; for what was it worth to win a race when he had faced the greatest loss of them all already?

❝ I count every tear down my cheek instead of sheep ❞

You couldn’t sleep. You could never sleep while he was racing. Especially when he was on the other side of the world, which is why you went with him last season, and also at the start of this one. Maybe you never should’ve. Long distance was hard, but you managed. He felt farther away when he was still sleeping next you every night. At least when he didn’t send you off to sleep on the couch.

You tossed and turned in your sleep, but you didn’t dare to turn on the TV. It’s been months, you should try to live without him. Without seeing him. Without feeling for him. His races had nothing to do with you, neither did the outcome. And god, if he wins and you have to watch him kiss someone else again you might as well just take his racing car and drive right into the nearest wall. He’s so far away and yet, it didn’t make you love him any less. You huffed, fear slowly building up inside of you. You knew you shouldn’t do this, you had to wake up early tomorrow and really, it wouldn’t be that bad to miss a race once or twice, but you couldn’t help it. Reaching for the remote, your eyes were flooded with tears and your heart stung like never before when you saw him driving out there. You were rooting for him nonetheless. Just months ago you had watched the races from inside the McLaren hospitality, but now? All alone in your bed, anxiously following his every move. You would never fall asleep like this.

❝ Sleepwalk, find myself on your street. Three knocks, ring the bell, then I leave ❞

And there you stood high up in the stands the next weekend, head hanging low as you didn‘t want any fans of him recognizing you, back in his territory. You tried to ignore him, you really did, but your eyes kept following him around the paddock and didn’t leave him even while he was doing the quick interviews he had to do on his way there. And honestly, it kinda felt like home. Attending the races. Being near him. Being with him. You missed it more than anything else in the world, and you felt pathetic for it. He hurt you every way he could, and still, he didn’t hurt you enough to make you hate him. And you really wanted to hate him.

You went to the race together with one of your friends from uni. You bonded over formula 1 and your shared passion for the sport and quickly became very good friends. However, she had to leave soon, moving to another city for a better starting point for her career. Hence, you decided to save some money and go to a race together for the last time; for now, at least. You still remember the way she looked at you when you told her you were with Lando. The way you swooned over him to her, and the way you cried your eyes out when it all ended. You really thought you‘d be able to spend the rest of your life with him, and now all you had left of him were memories. She‘s known you long enough to immediately notice your longing after him the moment your eyes locked onto his dark brown curls. Your heart fluttered and it made you nauseous. One day this would stop, right? Your feeling must fade at least sometime, or was this all just wishful thinking? Could you not just get over him like everyone else got over their exes and start dating someone new?

Your heart ached. He was so close, not out of reach anymore, not on the other side of the world anymore, but still, there was no way of getting back to him, the crash barriers and the grandstand keeping you away, and it felt like the end of your relationship all over again, with him on the track and you sitting and waiting patiently on the sidelines, always at least an arm length distance between you two. You shouldn’t even want to get him back. You left out a sigh as he walked into the McLaren hospitality, finally out of sight. But still not out of mind.

Your friend huffed next to you, and finally decided to try and convince you to talk to him after the race while you were still in the same place, to get closure at last. You knew it must annoy your friends and maybe even your family that it was so hard for you to just move on. They put effort into understanding, but still, Lando wasn‘t good to you, at least not in the end. Many would treat you better, but you didn‘t seem to care. You quickly shook your head no, telling her how he probably didn’t want to talk to you and that catching him after the race would be nearly impossible, with bodyguards and tons and tons of interviewers and cameras around him.

The conversation ended soon after, as the lights went out and the drivers hit the gas. You pondered for a second, reconsidering your friend‘s suggestion, a weird feeling building up in your stomach. Maybe you shouldn’t even be here, maybe you should *leave* after the race and never look back. But to your dismay, every sense in your body was telling you to stay.

❝ I try to live in black and white but I’m so blue ❞

The race went well, but he didn‘t really care. Of course he was happy, the whole team was euphoric for their two drivers who secured place 2 and 4, huge smiles plastered on their faces. Once he was done with the post-race interviews he left to go back and get some rest inside his apartment, at least until the others came around to drag him to the afterparty, slandering from one club into the next one.

Everything felt so lonely without you. His bed was cold even when he was hidden under his blanket, and the dining room was nothing more than a reminder that he wasn‘t spending his evenings with you. Watching TV got boring. Everything got boring. He didn’t even know why he lost you anymore, he didn’t know what the hell it was that made him believe you weren’t made for him, making him believe there was actually something more important than you in this lifetime. You haunted his every thought, and even though he truly only wanted the best for you, deep inside him, he wanted you to still need him as well.

He stood in front of his bathroom mirror, gently buttoning up his shirt like you used to do, always leaving the 3 highest ones unbuttoned. He missed your touch, your eyes looking up at him and your hands always reaching for his. His arms would be wrapped around your waist and his head would be leaning on your shoulder, sneaking a few, small kisses up your neck as you changed your earrings for the night, the imagine of it painted onto your fast beating heart as you stood in front of the full-body mirror in your apartment, finishing up your accessoires. You wore a blue dress that covered your thighs, not reaching your knees. It hugged you in all the right places, accentuating your features. It used to be Lando‘s favourite, but you had no other alternative, not having brought any other dresses. Your friend insisted on going clubbing anyway, desperately wanting to finally get him off your mind for one night at least.

The other drivers were loud and happy and drunk and Lando sat next to them, staring at his already empty glass. He knew how this would go. At some point, either the drivers or one of their girls would tap his shoulder, saying they have a friend they think he would really like, and if he would like to be introduced to her. He would agree so they would finally keep their mouths shut, he would talk to the girl. Maybe they would kiss if he drank enough. Maybe he would take her home. Maybe he would think about you the whole time, maybe he would accidentally call her your name. Maybe he would wake up in the morning and would be happy that she‘d left, content with it only being a one-time thing and not meaning anything.

Because, in the end, nothing meant anything without you.

He pretended to laugh at the jokes of his friends, but really, none of this was fun to him. These nights were nothing more than a constant reminder of how he used to have his fun while you were waiting for him at home, cold and sad and alone. How could he be so stupid and leave you alone all the time? He doesn’t even know why he did it anymore. He yawned, very obviously not enjoying the party. Yes, it was nice seeing his friends so happy, the mood wasn’t as tense as it was around and on the track and the people inside the night club were vivid, dancing and drinking, seemingly having the time of their life downing countless beverages, but still, the happiness didn’t reach him.

“Dude, I think your girl‘s here.“ Oscar pushed him slightly, two vodka bull in hand for himself and Lily. Lando didn’t pay him any mind and rolled his eyes, not really in the mood for talking to any girl that isn’t you at the moment. Couldn’t they just give up? He wasn’t ready yet for someone else, he didn’t even know if he wanted to be with someone that isn’t you at all. Ever. Instead of arguing with Oscar about how he didn’t want to hear from any other girl right now, he went to get another drink as well.

He pushed through the dense crowd of people, navigating through the cacophony of laughter and piercing yelling that seemed to echo from all directions. The deafening loud music blasting through his ears made it difficult to focus, and the harsh sound of glass clunking together only added to it. The colorful LED lights rapidly switched from green to red to purple to yellow in a matter of seconds, creating a dizzying light show that overwhelmed his vision. This sensory onslaught of sounds, sights, and sensations overstimulated his senses, making each step forward feel like an effort.

Finally at his destination, he waited for the waiter or waitress, he wasn’t quite sure, to get his order. He wasn’t certain what his plan was that night at all. Sleeping around or not, you wouldn’t stop haunting his mind anyway, so was it really worth it? Getting drunk and trying to make his nights feel less lonesome? Or should he just wait and really focus on his carrer again until maybe, one day, you’d come back?

He ignored the possibilty of you not coming back at all.

He let his eyes wander around the scene unfolding in front of him, occasionally making eye contact with random girls who winked at him and tried to get his attention, but he didn’t pay them any mind. Frustration started to bubble up inside of him as the wait for his drink seemed to go on for forever, until suddenly, his heart skipped a beat.

Lando was certain that in a room full of people, he would always be able to notice you first. He pondered if it was you whenever he‘d walk by a girl with the same hair colour as you, immediately dismissing the thought when he saw a face that didn’t match yours just a second later. But this time, it was different. The hair ressembled yours without a doubt, and of course he remembered the dress he had bought for you so long ago; never once had he been able to keep his hands to himself when you wore it. The height matched you perfectly as well. But it couldn’t be you, right?

Oscar‘s words replayed in his mind and he finally understood what he meant. Who he meant.

It was really you.

You tried to enjoy the party, but you really weren’t doing so well. Your friend had left you near the bar, thinking you’d be hitting it off with a guy you’ve been talking to for some time, but that wasn’t the case. he left just five minutes after to go home, asking if you’d like to come with him. You denied, but your friend was nowhere to be found, having found someone in this club herself. It was scary being alone in a club full of drunk, intoxicated people, even more so when you sensed someone staring at you from behind. You didn’t have to worry about things like that when you were still with Lando, with him always stuck to your side, a protective arm hanging around your shoulders. you shuddered at the thought, and dared to turn around to find the very person who was looking at you so steadily.

And then you locked eyes.

The world suddenly went quiet. All the chaos, the noise, it all faded into the background, no sound to be heard other than the synchronised, rapid beating of your heart. It seemed as if the only two people in that room were you and him, only the void surrounding the two of you. The LEDs turned blue, engulfing you and him, the light accentuating your features and he couldn’t move even if he wanted to, stuck in a trance of what this could mean for him in the future; what this could mean for you both. Time seemed to stand still. He wanted to run to you, to hold you, to tell you how much he missed you, but his feet felt like they were glued to the floor. His breath hitched and so did yours, all the yearning, all the longing hitting you and him at lightspeed.

You walked towards him, each step filled with electricity. The tension was palpable, his mouth agape as you stood in front of him, only centimeters away from closing the gap between you. There was so much he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to apologize, so many things he wanted to make right, but he didn‘t dare to say things first, afraid too scare you off. The last thing he wanted is for you to leave him again.

“I didn‘t know you‘d be here, thought I‘d seen Oscar but I wasn‘t sure,“ you started, stumbling over your own words, laughing awkwardly, then biting your lip right after. He noticed, because you always did that when you were nervous; you’d done it too when you broke up with him. You wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but that would be a lie, one he could look right through of. You just couldn‘t process actually being in his presence again.

“You still wear the dress?“

“It‘s, uhm, quite pretty, so yeah.“ You nodded along to your own words, gulping at the tense and awkward silence right after, looking down at your shoes, the sight of him in this light still not leaving your mind. Maybe he didn‘t even feel the same way, maybe he didn‘t even want to talk to you. Maybe you already made a fool of yourself when you made your way over to him, maybe you really should‘ve just stayed at home. But at the same time, this is what you‘d hoped for this whole time. To finally see him again.

“I‘m so sorry for what I did to you, y/n, please believe me. E-Ever since you left, I couldn‘t stop thinking about you. Not once. I tried to move on, y‘know, would probably be better for you as well, ‘cause you deserve better than how I‘ve treated you at the end and I don‘t want to have to put you through that again but I just- I miss you so much, I don‘t know what to do! And now you‘re here and I swear I‘ve been waiting for a moment like this and-,“ he stopped for a second, heavy and shaky breaths filling the silence, „If giving up racing means you‘ll let me come back to you, I‘ll do it.“

Your teary eyes widened and you looked up at him again, staring into his. One could take it as an empty promise. But you knew better than anyone else that Lando wasn’t one to joke about racing, ever. “Lando you can’t just- I- I mean, racing? It didn‘t work before Lan I just- don‘t give up your dreams for me, please? You shouldn‘t, you have so much ahead of you still,“ you sighed out, every single part of your body overwhelmed like never before.

But Lando was certain. He traced every yet so small feature of your face and body with his eyes, and he knew in that exact moment that, no matter what, he could never lose you again. Not this time. Not when fate hat somehow brought you together once again, giving him a second chance to make it all better. Question was now if you’d let him have that second chance too.

He lifted his hand to gently wipe away the tear running down your cheek, having you lean into his familiar touch. “I’ll do it for you”, he said, and that was when you broke apart, legs feeling numb and wobbly suddenly. Tears streamed down your face as you took another step forward and he wrapped his arms around your body out of reflex, gently placing soft kisses on top of your head, tearing up as well as your cried into his chest.

Maybe it was bad, maybe you shouldn’t feel like this again, but you’ve never once after the breakup felt as at peace with yourself and your as you did now, even if you were in a loud and busy club, surrounded by drunk and high people. You managed to push them to the back of your mind, the familiar scent of Lando’s perfume calming your senses. It felt like home. Maybe he really did owe you something, and though you once were anguished because of it, you wouldn’t ever deprive him of the joy of racing. There would be a way through it without having to abandon any of your or his dreams. There must be if you want it to work out, and you were sure that this time, it would. And so was he.

Lando took you home with him that night, not before you shot your friend a quick text message, afraid she might think you were kidnapped or whatnot. You knew that you’d have to fly home again in two days. He knew that too, but there was no need to rush things anyway. You were still his and he was still yours, and that’s all that mattered for now. It’s gonna be weird explaining this to your friends and your family, but neither of you minded it as long as it meant you could be with each other again. You would have to talk things through and see how you’d manage the race weekends and the events and the media - but not now. Now, with you calmly and lightly snoring in his arms, he didn’t care about any of that, simply content with having you again.

He promised you before you drifted off into your tranquil slumber that he will make it right this time. He will be there for you no matter what, he will defend you and take you with him and show you off and love you like already should have done all these months ago. This time, he will put in the work and the appreciation and the effort, and then, you will finally be able to be the greatest.

❝ I’d like to mean it when I say I’m over you, but that’s still not true. ❞

taglist for part 2 of the greatest : @mrs-saturday @tylerstacobell @angeltroian @acesbakery @directioner5life @malynn @escuellasceramicdollie @strangetoadroadbat @norrisdriver @aliceisnuts @carlando4 @f1fantasys @no-144444 @belivisa @callsignwidow @cruzgrecia @ifsoniacouldfly @wony6ung @hurtblossom @faeriepigeons @interlagos @xnatqq @fanficweasley @youreintheclubb @chaimaarouaine11 @idgasb @cruzgrecia @madstxo @trisharee (basically everyone who commented vv sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged!)

Update masterlists

Just updated my favorites stories, so here it is:

FAVS 2 - LOGAN SARGEANT FAVS 3 DANIEL RICCARDO FAVS 4 LANDO NORRIS 10.0 FAVS 4 LANDO NORRIS 11.0 *new* FAVS 5 - PATO O`WARD 3.0 FAVS 16 - CHARLES LECLERC 20.0 FAVS 18 - LANCE STROLL FAVS 22 - YUKI TSUNODA FAVS 23 - ALEX ALBON FAVS 26 - COLTON HERTA 1.0 *new* FAVS 33 - MAX VERSTAPPEN 4.0 FAVS 44 - LEWIS HAMILTON FAVS 47 - MICK SCHUMACHER FAVS 55 - CARLOS SAINZ 2.0 FAVS 81 - OSCAR PIASTRI 3.0 FAVS 81 - OSCAR PIASTRI 4.0 *new* FAVS 87 - Ollie Bearman 1.0 MAX FEWTRELL 1.0

MAX VERSTAPPEN FIC RECS

★⋆. ࿐࿔

fic rec masterlist // my masterlist

⭑ none of these works are mine, full credit to the author

coming soon...

The Viscount Who Deceived Me - Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | ...

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem! Reader, Benedict Bridgerton x Fem! Reader

Warnings: none, I think

Word Count: 1.7K

a/n: I'm having a lot of fun writing this series!

You took a deep breath and stepped out of your carriage in front of the Cowper residence.

Closing your eyes and gathering strength, you straightened your shoulders and released all the pent up air in your chest.

"Are you alright, my dear?" your mama asked, taking your arm in hers.

You gave her your best smile, that still turned out small, and answered "I'm perfectly fine."

She didn't believe you, but nonetheless nodded. You both walked around the house and greeted people you knew on the way to the gardens.

Candles were lit, floral patterns were freshly painted on the grass, and everyone was dressed in varied tones of red, orange and black. The invitation had said it would be a blazing event and that the guests should dress in the hues of fire.

There was said to be a never before seen surprise to do with the theme at the end of the night, but many disapproved, thinking it was too provocative for a ball.

You had thought it might be fun and were very excited to see what this innovative surprise might be.

You abandoned your family greens for a burgundy dress that evening. Madame Delacroix had truly outdone herself with your dress this time. The light fabric along with your hanging sleeves made it look like your clothes were dancing with your every move.

"There are the Bridgertons." pointed your mama with a nod of her head.

Sure enough, you saw the whole family except for the little ones.

They spotted both of you as you made your way over. You smiled and curtsied politely, trying to avoid Anthony's gaze. He made it impossible when he took your hand in his and bowed to kiss it.

'Has he ever kissed her hand?' you wondered.

'Of course he has, he was already kissing her neck. He might have even kissed her lips.'

"How are you this evening?" he asked.

"Perfectly fine." you said, but your voice was too weak, pitch too high.

"Alright then, if that is all." Eloise took your arm in hers and started dragging you away "We will be on our way."

"Do not linger too far!" called out Violet, but the two of you were already gone.

You leaned closer to your friend and whispered "Thank you."

"You looked like you saw a ghost, I had you get you out." she answered, looking around.

You spotted Penelope in a corner grabbing a champagne flute from a passing servant and gestured to Eloise that you had found her.

"Ah."

The two of you walked towards her and she smiles when she spotted you.

"There you are! I was beginning to think I'd have to spend the rest of the night in the company of plants." she quipped.

"I wish I could have stayed home," huffed Eloise, crossing her arms and glaring at a gentleman who passed by looking at her "You know how much I despise these sordid events."

You chuckled and nudged her with your elbow "Are you not the least bit excited for this surprise they have planned?"

"I am excited to finish my book. I am excited to lay down in bed and sleep."

"What are you reading?" you asked, looking forward to the topic.

The three of you were the only women your age you knew that enjoyed reading. Most ladies of the ton found that improving your mind with extensive reading was not an accomplishment, but a waste of time.

'Men do not want a woman who has read Shakespeare, they want a wife who can entertain them with the pianoforte or their voice. Men want women who can embroider and paint, not someone to discuss politics with.' was what you had heard a gentleman saying while you were at the bookshop one time.

"Wuthering Heights." she answered excitedly.

"What is it about?" questioned Penelope before taking another sip of her champagne.

"Vengeance." she smiled.

"I am very much afraid of you sometimes." you said and Pen nodded.

"Thank you," she touched her heart "but, in all earnest, it is a very good book. The both of you should read it."

"Can I borrow your copy after I finish my current read?" smiled Pen.

"Of course, I shall drop it off as soon as I finish it. What are you reading now?"

"Pride and Prejudice." she said and you gasped.

"So am I!" you exclaimed excitedly, gaining a few disapproving looks from other guests.

"What do you think of Bingley? she asked with a smile and a slight flush to her cheeks.

"I think he reminds me a bit of Colin," you leaned closer to her ear "and you remind me a bit of Jane."

"Oh, hush." she chided, but her cheeks had turned crimson and she grinned "Do you really think so?"

"I do." you nodded and turned to Eloise "And you, my dear friend, are Elizabeth Bennet."

She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged the corner of her lips. "And who might you be?"

"Me?" you stopped for a second to consider your options "Well, I suppose I must be poor Mr Collins."

They both laughed and everything seemed so normal. When you were like this with your friends, it was like all your troubles faded away.

You did not have to marry the man who betrayed you, you did not have to worry about taking one step out of line with the fear of having to be wed to the oldest man you knew, you did not feel nauseous and anxious like you had the rest of the day. With Eloise and Penelope, you could just be.

That feeling of peace faded all too quickly when Anthony appeared in front of you and bowed "May I have your first dance?"

All colour drained from your face and you had to clear your throat before answering "You may."

He wrote his name on your dance card next to the first song. A quadrille.

At least you would not spend the whole dance with him.

He offered you his arm and you took it, giving your friends one last glance. They tried to smile encouragingly, but it looked more like they were grimacing.

You took a deep breath as you stepped into position. Four couples, including yourselves, stood in rectangular formation. You and Anthony on one side, a married couple to your right, Philippa Featherington and Finch to your left, and Benedict with Cressida Cowper in front of you.

Your shoulders were hunched, your muscles tense. Anthony's hand felt cold in yours and you remembered how it had touched the opera singer.

Benedict locked eyes with you and his gaze was warm. His eyebrows furrowed and he mouthed "are you alright?"

You forced a smile and nodded just as the song started. He didn't look like he believed you, but didn't say anything else.

The string quartet continued as you turned to Anthony and bowed to each other, you repeated the same with Finch. While the couples at your side met in the centre and danced around one another, switching partners then back, you stayed in place.

Benedict continued looking worriedly at you and you gave him a small smile.

Anthony interrupted your silent communication when he leaned close to your ear and whispered "I have to talk to you. About us."

"Are you sure this is the right time?" you asked and inwardly cursed him for bringing this up.

"This is the perfect time." he said before taking you to the centre of the group.

You briefly grasped both of Benedict's hands before passing by him and meeting with Anthony again. He held your left hand on his and his right held your waist. You stayed that way as you walked around the couples.

"Have you received the flowers?" he asked, a hopeful look on his face.

Anthony had sent you roses after you left the house that morning. Your mother had said it was romantic, you thought it was generic.

"I have." you answered, nodding curtly at Philippa.

'Does he even know that my favourite flowers are tulips?' you contemplated sadly. 'I was so blind to think he loved me.'

"Good, good. And are they to your liking?" he probed and you contained an annoyed sigh.

"They are perfectly fine." you stated, looking anywhere else but him as you stepped into your starting place again.

"I know that you have not forgiven me for what I have done." he whispered solemnly.

Your eyes burned and you stared at Cressida's hem, the couples on each side of you switched partners.

'I will not talk about this, I will not cry in public, I will not make cause a scandal.' you repeated the words over and over in your head.

When you said nothing, he continued "I do not expect you to forgive me, but I would be grateful if you would give me a chance to explain."

"There is nothing to explain." you spat then took a deep breath to calm yourself "I already know everything."

"But you do not." he insisted "You do not know the half of it."

You scoffed "If that was merely half, I do not wish to know the rest at all."

Stepping forward once again, Anthony and Benedict switched partners. One hand on your waist and the other holding yours, he leaned forward and his lips brushed against your ear, breath tickling your neck.

"Save your next dance for me?" he whispered and chills ran down your spine.

"Yes." you nodded as you switched brothers again.

"If you will not let me explain," he said, alternating his feet in front of him to the rhythm of the quartet's melody "at least let me say that I will no longer be seeing Siena."

"I truly do not care." you said between your teeth, attempting to hide your anger behind a smile "Do what you will, it does not matter to me. Not anymore."

Anthony pulled your body flush to his by the waist, searching eyes boring deeply into your soul.

"You hate me." he stated gravely.

"I do not hate you." you sighed.

"You do, I have wronged you and you have every right to hate me. What I do not understand is why you are choosing to marry a man you now despise."

Your voice was small and desperate when you answered "It is not a choice, Anthony."

The song ended and you untangled yourself from him. You curtsied and turned to walk as far away from a furrow-browed Anthony as possible.

a/n: guys!!!! I got so many requests for a part 3!! I hope you are all enjoying reading this series as much as I do writing it! (ps: this was my first time writing dialogue during a dance, so please tell me if it was bad or too confusing)

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