Slipping Through My Fingers

this was meant to be a late night ramble but i got carried away. will format once i'm on my pc, was written on my phone. not proofread or checked for grammar. also i wrote this in two hours so..............

tl;dr: my take on how the both of you will cope with one of max's worst crashes to date.

tw: crash, max having major injuries after the crash, struggles with alcohol abuse.

you had never been one to ever criticize someone for their choice of profession, especially not when it came to something that paid as high as this, but you wondered if you would ever see your boyfriend in one piece after every race.

it was nerve-wracking of course, seeing him go 350km per hour and hoping his car doesn't fuck itself up and end up in a barrier before then catching into flames. he was good at his job, he loved to drive the damn car so why was it such an issue then?

max didn't understand it either. one moment you would be happy for him and the next you'd be ridden with anxiety whenever he would step into the car, he would always reassure you though. the car was fine, he got the world's best engineers working on his car, that he would be safe.

you didn't understand what had happened though, one moment he was overtaking norris and the next he was in the barrier, a gasp escaped your lips and tears brimmed your eyes when you saw car number 1 in the barrier.

you wanted to claw yourself up there and pull him out of the car yourself but you were being restrained by a few red bull mechanics, telling you that it's gonna to be okay and the marshalls were going to get him out in one piece.

"max? are you alright? talk to me mate."

no response. that's when people started panicking.

max wasn't fine, he wasn't okay. so much force had hit him, he was going max speed when he hit those barriers. he couldn't feel his face, couldn't feel his arms and legs. he felt numb, and it scared him. his ears were ringing and the helmet was suffocating him, he needed air. right now.

he didn't know what happened next, through his blurred vision he could only guess that he had been pulled out the car and his helmet was pulled off his head, he could breathe better but not by much.

the next few moments were just a black void.

you were hysterical when you found out that he was being sent to the nearest hospital, the medical center said, 'it's too big of an injury for us to handle here.' you felt like you were the one dying when you heard he had to go through surgery. you knew he shouldn't have picked this profession, it's insane. how was any of this legal and approved by the government? you didn't know.

you weren't given the specifics because you were neither lawful spouse or family, and his family was hours away from being able to come visit him so you had to sit there and wait for him to come to before you could even know what was going on with him. his profession never scared you quite like this did before.

being in a coma wasn't something on his bucket list, he prayed that he would never go through an accident as traumatic to have to be in a coma.

max could hear the voices, they weren't the clearest. he could hear bits and pieces, but never the full conversation. it was almost as if he was half-asleep and the world around him was just so incredibly quiet. he didn't know what he would do or say to you when he woke up, he was most worried about what you would say. maybe kill him before the injuries from the crash could? max wanted to chuckle from that but nothing came out from his lips, just soft breaths. signaling that he was still alive in there to the outside world.

slowly, he would start hearing and feeling less and less of what happened in the world around him. no longer being able to hear your beautiful voice, and that's what hurt the most, not knowing if you were there with him or not.

you had stayed by his side almost everyday when that happened, not wanting to leave even when the visiting hours were unavailable. always waiting nearby in a coffee shop or booking a hotel room the closest to the hospital in order to be there as soon as visiting hours started.

life felt so empty. you were used to his playful banter and teases but you hadn't heard his voice in two weeks now. you weren't religious, having some religious trauma in life, you would never devote yourself to some invisible god ever again, but you prayed. you prayed to that invisible man upstairs to wake him up, that if he were to wake up, you would start going to church, but that didn't come.

you just wanted him to get better, to open his beautiful blue eyes, look at you and tell you that he loved you. faith was hard to come by but you would always come back to that disgusting sterile smelling room and hold his hand gently, some days you would talk to him, some days you would sing to him but it didn't matter what you did because you would always be there. never missing a possible moment where he would wake up.

the doctors said it didn't look good. they hadn't been medically inducing him in a coma for a week now, he should be conscious by the first few days of taking him off the medically induced coma and you didn't know what to think. you were scared.

you had told him so many times that it made you anxious that an accident like this would happen, that he would get in that car and you couldn't see him anymore but you didn't know it was going to be this soon.

at first you couldn't believe it, it had been almost a month since you heard his voice last. he couldn't be, right? he was the most talented driver you knew, there was no way he was in a coma after a big crash. he was always careful, never taking risks that was unnecessary, right?

you were in denial, you knew it. everyone knew it. you were spiraling out of control and there was nothing anyone could do about it, unless they would magically wake max verstappen out of his comatose state.

there was a hole left in your chest when you realized that maybe he was never going to wake up from this, that you would never see his beautiful blue eyes anymore. slowly, you started to lose hope. visits became far and few between, you just wanted to get away. not wanting to see the day that his family decided that there was no more hope for him and to pull the plug.

you buried yourself in work, not wanting to think, not wanting to feel, just wanting to focus on anything else other than the gaping hole in your chest.

drinking became your best friend, hitting up bars as soon as you finished your shift. downing shot after shot, your friends and his friends were all concerned, always asking if you needed anything, if you needed them and that they were there for you, but frankly you didn't care about anyone else.

coming home drunk wasn't something that was far and few between anymore, it would be every other night, then every night and then sometimes you would sneak a flask in when you were at work. just something to numb the pain of losing your boyfriend. it wasn't enough though.

you were angry.

who cared about all of those other people when the person that mattered the most was in a hospital bed? waiting for his own death that wasn't even entirely up to him? you were angry, you wanted to scream at anything, at someone.

why did it have to be him? why did it have to be your max? why did it have to be him at the wrong place at the wrong time? why? why? why? he did nothing wrong, all his life he was a saint. he was never cruel to anything or anyone in his life, all he did was try to please the people around him, why did it have to be him?

you wished you had the answers, you still prayed. almost like a devoted follower of that stupid god most of the population of the earth believed in. you laughed at the irony of your desperation, no amount of praying or bargaining could ever bring him back, it was too late but damn, if you didn't try you knew you'd regret it.

max's family checked up on you often, sophie and victoria being the ones to ask you how you were. you always appreciated them checking up on you when you knew that they were hurting the most out of all of this, they were his family afterall. you were just... the girlfriend. your feelings were not important in this equation.

trudging through life without waking up next to him was painful, the small pitiful meows coming out of sassy and jimmy were almost even more painful. the reminder that you were in his apartment, with his cats but without him. when was he going to wake up? when were you going to wake up from this bad dream?

a ring from your phone had woken you up from your drunken adventures from the previous night, you wanted to yell at them for interrupting your sleep. you wanted to sleep forever, maybe even be in a comatose state similar to max so then you would be able to wake up together.

"hello?" you mumbled through closed eyes, very much annoyed that whoever this person was, waking you up from your sleep. you didn't even bother to check the called id.

"you need to come down to the hospital, right now."

you haven't scrambled up and got dressed any faster than you just did, you didn't bother doing your hair or even brushing your teeth. one second you were in your shared apartment, the next you were in your car, speeding past the streets of monaco to get to the hospital, maybe breaking a few laws and going as fast as an f1 car.

"schatje."

you were crying when you got there, burying your face in max's chest, you wanted to yell at him, for leaving you alone for two months too long but you didn't have it in you. his hand found its way to your hair, petting your head. a gentle kiss was left against your temple as you continued to cry against his chest, you couldn't form words, basically inconsolable.

you were eventually able to peel yourself off of him though, his hand firmly wrapped around yours, mainly for your comfort and not his. the doctor's had explained that he had to slowly learn to walk and speak again because he was in a coma for so long but the first words out of his mouth when he first became conscious was schatje which made you cry a little bit more. some of his friends and family came throughout the day and he could recognize who they were, just had a hard time speaking.

it was only at the end of the day where you two had a time for yourselves, just basking in the presence of each other, finally being able to see his pretty blue eyes look at you.

"lay... ne-next to me..?" max asked, his voice a bit scratchy for not being awake in two months, tilting his head a little to the left, a little quirk of his which you thought was cute and complied with his request. he wrapped his arm around yours after scooting to make space for you, the both of you just laying there in each other's presence, not wanting to let go.

max didn't understand how much time had passed and understandably so, but he missed you. it felt like he had just gone to sleep and succumbed to his injuries but for you, it felt like a lifetime without having to see the love of your life. the atmosphere was quiet, but comfortable. seeing max alive and in one piece was all you needed before slowly drifting off into sleep, and for once the nurses didn't kick you out after checking in on max.

recovery was hard, max had been told that he suffered damage when he got a concussion from the crash. his spine had been mostly intact but since he suffered injuries to his brain, he had to learn how to walk and talk again.

"what about happiness?" a therapist had asked max as he sat across from her. they were doing some exercises to train max's speaking, something that the doctors had mentioned would help max recover faster. max's face lit up before pointing to you, who was sitting next to him, "nice try max, but you understand what i mean."

a giggle left your lips before he tried again, with a pout dancing on his lips, "joy, winning a race?" he tilted his head cutely before the therapist let him have the answer, it was cute. he was cute but he was a fighter.

the moment the doctors cleared him of any sustaining injuries, he was ready to get on the track again, only after six months after the crash.

"you can't be serious max," you shook your head as you paced around the apartment, "it's only been six months... you should just rest for the remainder of the season and get in next year. i don't understand the rush, you have your life in front of you to compete, what's wrong with waiting a few more months?"

max shrugged, he realized after the crash that he in fact did not have his entire life to race. what if his life was taken early and he couldn't spend the rest of his life with her, what then? he didn't want to waste any time. he wanted to get his head in the game while he was at his prime and get it over with before retiring and getting away with her on a private island and living there for the rest of his life.

he didn't want to race for the remainder of his life, nope. he wasn't like alonso who was going to be on the track when he's old and frail and no longer in the top teams. he wanted to win, and that's what he was going to do, to win. he knew that him coming back so soon even after his injuries were going to be hard on you, he was scared to even bring it up in the first place.

it had only been a few months, and he was so ready to come back to racing. his fingers were basically itching for it, but he was very mindful with how you were going to feel, he always was. he hinted at it a couple times before, but her response was always different than what he wanted.

max sighed when you were obviously going to be upset with his decision, "look, i know you're worried and you do not want me in the car so soon, but you have to trust me—"

you set your back straight before looking him dead in the eyes, "i trusted you six months ago! look where that got us!" you didn't mean to yell, but you were scared and you did not want to lose him because he was driving a silly fast car. max looked hurt, and rightfully so. you sighed before you walked over to where he was on the couch, wrapping your arms around him in a hug, which he welcomed with open arms, "i'm just worried, okay? you being in that coma was the scariest thing in my entire life. i even lost hope, do you understand how scary it was for me to lose hope?"

max nods before landing a kiss on your lips, wanting to reassure you that he made a mistake and that it wasn't going to happen again. he didn't mean to leave you for those two months, but he knew that he was never going to do that to you again. he didn't want to hurt you anymore than he already did.

"trust me, i'm not gonna make the same mistake twice and i'm gonna make you proud."

and max never did. he got in the car the next week, ready to fight. baring his teeth for anyone who could get anywhere close to him. he closed out the season with multiple trophies, even though the driver's championship was out of reach.

he celebrated that season with a big smile on his face and you knew it was the right decision to let him get back to racing. as much as you didn't want to admit it, he loved racing more than he loved you and you were okay with that. you were okay with being second to his ambitions and dreams because that's what good girlfriends do, let their boyfriend's risk their lives driving silly fast cars if that meant it made them happy.

unfortunately, you anxiety wouldn't go away even after all the constant reassurance your boyfriend gave you. the nights where you were alone, wondering whether if max was going to pull through still haunted you.

of course, alcohol was still a problem for you. you turned to it when you felt like you didn't have a choice. some nights, on particularly rough anxiety ridden nights, you would sneak out. just grab a drink or two to soothe your heart. it wasn't long before max caught on though.

"where have you been?" max had asked as you entered their apartment after coming home from work, it wasn't like you came home late and came home absolutely drunk which is why you didn't think he was suspicious. there had been a break between the current races, which is why he was home before you were.

a hiccup breaks the silence as you close the door behind you, you lock eyes with max and you can see the disappointment floating in his eyes, that's when you knew that he knew but you weren't sure how much he knew.

"answer the question, liefje," max sternly spoke up once again, walking towards you, in his eyes was a challenge. he was waiting to see whether you were going to lie to his face or not. he could practically smell the alcohol from there, he went out drinking a lot too, being a formula one driver meant parties like there was no tomorrow.

you didn't know what to answer with, so you answered as vaguely as possible, "i was out with some friends," hoping that the answer you gave him would satisfy him enough without him asking too many questions, you tried to brush past him but he held onto your arm.

max had heard stories from his friends, telling him that you weren't at a good spot after the accident. that you turned to drinking and it seemed like nothing could help except for max himself.

he took one whiff and he knew it was alcohol, "which friends?" he asked, not wanting to let you slip from his fingers, he knew how dangerous alcohol addiction was and he wasn't going to let his girlfriend fall into the grasps of it.

"work friends, max— let go. i want to take a shower," you tugged on his hand that was holding onto your arm, but he was unrelenting. he stared you down, not convinced with the bullshit answer you gave him. he knew you had been out drinking, it wasn't even race week. you didn't have an excuse.

max's eyes softened, he knew that somewhere deep inside of you that you were struggling, that you needed help but you just didn't know how to reach out. was it hard to reach out to him? has he made himself so unapproachable after the accident?

"talk to me, what's going on with you?" max's grip on your arm has softened but you could only sigh and look away, you didn't know how to face him. yes, you were struggling but you didn't know how to bring it up. just like everything in your life, you needed someone to comfort you and tell you it was going to be okay and that there were people there for you, but you were stubborn almost in a similar fashion to him.

you only looked back up at him when max squeezed your arm and the eyes that looked back up at him were no longer hard and guarded, but full of vulnerability and glassy, "i—"

"you've been drinking?" max cut you off and finished your sentence for you, now you knew how much he knew of your struggles. you swear it wasn't supposed to get this bad, you promised yourself you would stop on the weeks where he didn't have races, or maybe just stop altogether but that was easier said than done.

"yes," was all that left your lips and that was the day that max swore he was going to get you through this.

max had offered to take a break like you suggested for the rest of the year, just to ease your nerves but you told him that it was a hard no for you. you knew that it was going to get much worse if you got too used to his presence, the cycle would just repeat itself once he got back into racing.

this time there was another road to recovery, just not for him. max had been nothing but helpful, always offering you help, even offering to pay for your rehab. you contemplated whether you even wanted to go or not, you didn't want to feel weak. to feel like there was something was wrong with you, that you were a freak but at the end, after endless heart-to-heart conversations with max, he was convinced you to go.

the first few months were hard, there was no way you could attend the races while going through rehab so you had to just suck it up and go through it without watching. max felt bad, of course he did. that was the love of his life that he put in that rehab center, but he knew he had to make tough decisions if he wanted you to get better.

he felt horrible not having you there for even some of the races, not because he sent you to the rehab center but because he missed you. he knew that the accident hit you hard, but not this hard. he didn't understand how much anxiety racing did to you, and he was beating himself up for it.

he should've seen the signs, should've reached out sooner before they could fester into something as serious as alcohol addiction but there was no use in beating himself up for something he didn't do in the past, as least he was doing it now after he saw the signs of you struggling.

the initial withdrawal symptoms were insane, if you weren't in rehab, you would've probably relapsed the first day there. it was hard for you and you were trying your best, and you did. overtime, you were recovering and that's all that mattered.

max had received updates of course, he requested them. he wanted to see how you were holding up, if there were any signs of improvement. the therapists there all said that you were doing splendid, that she might get out in a few months which was great news to max.

it would only take you another six months to fully recover and the first thing you did when you saw max when he picked you up was jump into his arms, he breathed out a sigh of relief after not seeing you for a couple of weeks. he could live like this.

both of them had their own battles to fight through but the most important part was that they both overcame both battles, never forgetting to support eachother, even when one lost themselves along the way.

DOWN BAD

pairing: charles leclerc x singer reader

summary: the one where she falls into a depression, her brother picks his side and lando moves on all to quickly

warning:

a/n:

face claim: madison beer :)

f1 masterlist

main masterilst

series masterlist

f1gossip has posted

liked by 2, 495 users

f1gossip lando norris and magui corcerio spotted out recently

user1 i actually think they're pretty cute

user2 idc i miss yn and lano

-> user3 right? i wanna know the tea tbh

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"Y/n? Oh baby." Bsf muttered after opening the door to Y/ns bedroom. Her best friend immediately wrapped her arms around the girl, pulling her into her chest. Y/n began to sob, her chest heaving as everything came crashing down. "I can't do this, I mean its so stupid we weren't even together and I…" Bsf rubbed her arms up and down the younger girls back. "Shhh, just let it all out honey, I've got you." Her knees immediately gave out and the pair sunk to the floor together, bsf being Y/ns life line. "I'm so stupid." Y/n whispered. "No you're not stupid, you were just in love." And Y/n clung to the one person she knew would never leave her.

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ynspriv has posted

liked by bsfuser, thatgolfergirl and 20 others

ynspriv fuck all men honestly. and fuck everything if i cant have him. atleast i got a dog now. his name is bear.

bsfuser oh honey im so sorry

-> ynspriv its alright

thatgolfergirl we should have a girls night

-> ynspriv alright

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carlossainz55

liked by lando, charlesleclerc and 235, 495 others

carlossainz55 the best golf buddy lando

lando ⛳

-> carlossainz55 🏌️

charlesleclerc nice

liked by carlossainz55

-> user1 MY CHARLOS HEART 😭😭

user2 CARLANDO

-> user3 a reunion is just what i needed

user4 nah you wrong for this idc

user5 anyone else think this is dodgy asf after the whole yn lando situation

-> user6 they were just friends calm down

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Y/n wasn't sure how much she had drunk at that point, she did know that it was way more than she should've however. Lily and Alex were somewhere on the dancefloor, while best friend was grabbing the group another round of drinks.

Y/n quickly downed the shot that her best friend had given her before dragging her to the dance floor, "Come on I wanna dance." She said loudly as they made their way to the middle of the club.

It was a while before Bsf spoke up again, shouting loudly that she was gonna go to the toilet before wondering of. Y/n nodded aggressively before continuing to dance, as she did she stumbled, nearly face planting if a pair of strong arms hadn't wrapped her her waist to steady her.

She turned around to thank whoever had helped her but faltered when she heard a familiar voice. "Be careful, wouldn't want a pretty thing like yourself to trip." She rolled her eyes, ignoring the soft looking the man was giving her.

He went to say something but paused, shaking his head lightly, instead saying. "Little Sainz, I haven't seen you around recently."

She rolled her eyes harder than before, "Fuck off leclerc." She said loudly, the pair ignoring the fact that he still hadn't let her go.

He tilted his head slightly, slowly withdrawing his hands from her waist, "Testy testy, and here i thought we were friends."

"I don't like you, ergo your not my friend." Charles' eyes scanned her face, instantly noticing the tear tracks.

"Are you okay?" He asked her gently, his gaze intense, nearly making her melt.

"And why wouldn't I be." She questioned him, tilting her head slightly, ignoring the fact that their was no space between them.

He held his hands up, "I was just checking."

Her gaze narrowed at him as she cleared her throat, "Well, we're not friends, so theirs no reason for you to check up on me." She said sharply before turning around to find Lily and Alex.

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part 2, idk if i like it but here it is guyssssss. also oscar won miami guyssss. this ones goes out to all my 911 fans cause we're all in mourning atm.

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taglist @littlewhiterose @chlodavids @freyathehuntress @sadieurlady @pippyth3hippy @weekendlusting @ilovecharlesleclerc00 @loveitwhenhelies @bellsboops @wellimonlyheretoread @velentine @eugene-emt-roe @stinkyjax @catsdogs04 @coolcalmandc0llected @seonghwaexile @rosiemain @midnightbabylon @lil-soup @barzysreputation @gentlemonstersworld @imineverypossiblefandom @nichmeddar @formulaal @bia-wayne-west @eloriis @scorpiomindfuck @sesamepancakes @dilflover44 @primadonaprincess55 @angelluv16 @qghosty @sltwins @dark-night-sky-99 @alliwantisadonut @iambored24601

Mr Oblivious

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Felicity Leong-Piastri (Original Character)

Summary: Oscar Piastri is absolutely oblivious to the fact that people try to flirt with him. It drives Lando nuts. Felicity finds it very amusing though. 

(divider thanks to @saradika-graphics )

Lando Norris had a very simple opinion about Oscar Piastri:

The man was smart, fast, loyal to a fault — And completely, hopelessly, oblivious.

Especially about certain things.

Like, say, the fact that every now and then, some thirsty influencer or overly-friendly interviewer decided they wanted to test their luck around one of McLaren’s golden boys.

Case in point: today.

It was supposed to be a simple media day.

Smile, wave, answer a few questions without accidentally swearing — easy stuff.

And then she showed up.

Some influencer.

Lando didn’t catch her name.

Didn’t want to.

Her outfit was orange enough to suggest she'd Googled "McLaren colors" five minutes before showing up.

 Her laugh was the kind that made Lando want to put himself in an ice bath.

But what really got him was the way she locked eyes on Oscar from the moment she walked into the room.

Like a hawk spotting a particularly delicious rabbit.

And Oscar — sweet, pure, unsuspecting Oscar — stood there politely, posture perfect, nodding like he was about to explain suspension geometry to a cactus.

She sidled up to him with all the grace of a Bond girl in heels, flashing teeth and dimples and Lando could see it coming.

Could see the slow-motion train wreck unfolding with the inevitability of a Ferrari strategy call.

She sidled closer.

Tilted her head. Big fake lashes, even faker laugh.

"So, Oscar," she purred, "looking very fit this season. What's your secret?"

Lando, standing just off to the side, already felt his skin crawl.

Oscar, meanwhile, nodded thoughtfully like she’d asked him about chassis balance.

"Consistency," he said, serious as anything. "And good hydration habits. Also core strength. That’s really important for maintaining control in high G-force corners. I’ve been working with a new strength and conditioning coach. Core engagement and flexibility training. Lots of functional range mobility exercises. Very important for endurance."

Lando nearly dropped the can of Monster Energy he was carrying.

He physically turned away, took a moment to compose himself, and turned back — and she was still going.

She giggled — the kind of giggle Lando associated with botched lip filler and red flags — and twirled her hair like they were in a teen movie from 2004.

"Flexibility, huh?" she said, her voice doing That Thing™. Then winked.

WINKED.

Oscar, God bless him, nodded solemnly.

"Yeah. Critical for cockpit comfort. Limited hip mobility can lead to premature fatigue during longer races."

Lando just stared.

The influencer stared.

Oscar stared earnestly back. Oscar blinked at her with the open innocence of a Labrador Retriever about to explain knee cartilage.

It was like watching someone flirt with a toaster.

And then — then — she tried it.

She went for the kill.

"Well," she said, laughing in a way that definitely wasn't natural, "maybe you could show me some... flexibility exercises later?"

Lando choked on air.

Oscar, bless him, just looked mildly puzzled.

Lando’s hands curled into fists at his sides.

Oscar thought she wanted workout advice.

Meanwhile, this woman was basically trying to climb him like a tree.

"I mean," Oscar said, frowning thoughtfully, "I guess? If you’re interested in physiotherapy protocols? There's a lot of hip flexor and thoracic mobility involved."

He paused.

"Although," Oscar added very seriously, completely unaware he was standing in a verbal minefield, “you should always get a doctor’s clearance before starting any high-intensity exercise program.”

The influencer blinked.

Lando stared at the heavens.

Why.

Why had the universe given this man a marriage, a child, and a heart of gold, but no flirting radar whatsoever.

Lando was so angry on Oscar’s behalf he actually saw red.

Because it wasn’t just the flirting.

It was the disrespect.

Oscar — who had a wife who fixed racing models better than half the paddock. Oscar — who had a four-year-old daughter who beat engineers at Sudoku. Oscar — who literally carried his entire family in his heart wherever he went.

He wasn’t available.

He wasn’t interested.

And he damn well deserved to have people respect that without needing to tattoo MARRIED. TAKEN. HAS A BUMBLEBEE-OBSESSED DAUGHTER across his forehead.

And then — because clearly the universe wanted to personally test Lando’s self-control — the influencer winked.

Like, full-on, slow-motion, cartoon-style winked at Oscar.

Oscar blinked back, confused.

Then said, very seriously:

"You should also stretch regularly to avoid cramping."

Lando actually made a noise — somewhere between a groan and a dying animal.

The influencer tried to recover, laughing awkwardly, but Oscar had already turned — calm, unfazed — and was politely thanking the PR rep for organizing the media day.

Lando stormed over, practically vibrating with protective rage.

"Mate," he hissed when Oscar finally wandered off-stage, "you realize she was hitting on you, right?"

Oscar frowned. "Was she?"

"YES," Lando hissed, arms flailing. "She was basically ready to throw herself at you!”

Oscar looked genuinely perplexed.

"But... I’m married."

"YES," Lando repeated, louder, like he was explaining quantum physics to a pigeon. "You are married. You have a kid. You are the dictionary definition of off-limits."

Oscar scratched the back of his neck.

"Maybe she didn’t know?"

"She definitely knew," Lando muttered darkly. "You are actually wearing your wedding ring for once and Bee’s little bead bracelet. You might as well walk around holding a sign that says 'I love my wife and daughter more than oxygen.'"

Oscar shrugged, entirely unfazed.

"I mean... it’s true."

Lando stared at him.

Somewhere between admiration and absolute rage.

When they reached the McLaren motorhome, Felicity was there — perched on the couch, Bee asleep with her head on Felicity’s lap, Button the Frog tucked under her tiny arm.

Oscar’s whole face lit up like a sunrise.

He crossed the room without hesitation, dropped a kiss onto Felicity’s hair, and gently stroked Bee’s back.

Felicity smiled up at him, all soft and warm and easy, like they had a language no one else could hear.

Lando stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching it all unfold.

Watching how Oscar's whole world just locked into place around them, without hesitation, without second thought.

Yeah.

Let them flirt. Let them try.

Oscar Piastri had everything he needed right here. And he was smart enough — good enough — to never even glance anywhere else.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/F1TeaSpill: BREAKING: Influencer tries to flirt with Oscar Piastri.

Oscar responds with “core strength” and “doctor’s clearance.”

Meanwhile, Lando Norris nearly combusts in the background.

[attached: video clip]

@/pitlanechaos: Not Oscar offering that woman a PHYSIOTHERAPY REFERRAL I’m losing it. He thought she wanted professional advice. He’s too pure for this world.

@/felicityfanclub (pinned tweet):

‼️OSCAR PIASTRI IS MARRIED

‼️HE LOVES HIS WIFE

‼️HE LOVES HIS DAUGHTER

‼️HE IS OBLIVIOUSLY LOYAL

‼️AND WE ARE HERE TO DEFEND HIS GOLDEN RETRIEVER ENERGY

@/formulawoah: This man said “consult your doctor” instead of realizing she was flirting. He’s not oblivious. He’s loyal at a molecular level.

@/landohmygod: Lando Norris being 1 second away from lunging across the paddock like an angry chihuahua deserves its own Emmy. He was FIGHTING for Oscar’s honor.

@/suspension_nerd: If I was that influencer and Oscar hit me with “thoracic mobility is important” when I was trying to flirt, I would simply evaporate on the spot.

@/gridgossip: This man has a wife who fixes telemetry errors in her sleep, and makes him bento boxes everyday. AND A DAUGHTER WHO BEATS ENGINEERS AT SUDOKU. What did you THINK was going to happen??

@/F1psychology: Watching Oscar Piastri react to flirting like it's a sports injury safety video is the most fascinating psychological case study I’ve ever seen. Also, Lando's visible rage is priceless.

***

Oscar waited until Bee was down for the night.

She’d fallen asleep curled up around Button the Frog, one arm flung dramatically across her pillow like she was staging a nap-themed protest. He’d kissed her forehead and tucked the blanket under her chin, switching the night light to its soft pink glow before slipping out of her room on quiet feet.

He figured... if Felicity was going to hate him, she probably shouldn’t have to do it in front of their daughter.

Which was stupid. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

But the pit in his stomach wouldn’t go away.

He was sweating, suddenly aware of how clingy the collar of his t-shirt felt. His hands wouldn’t sit still — twitching, tapping, twisting his wedding ring around and around until the skin beneath it burned.

He felt fifteen again. Awkward and uncertain and too full of words he didn’t know how to say.

And then Felicity padded into the living room, hair twisted into a lazy bun, bare feet soft against the floorboards, wearing one of his old McLaren hoodies that hung off her like it still didn’t understand how it ended up lucky enough to be wrapped around her.

She looked soft. Tired. Safe.

She smiled when she saw him, sweet and a little sleepy, like she was expecting him to ask about what tea she wanted or whether he’d remembered to order oat milk.

Oscar nearly chickened out.

Instead, he sat up straighter — awkward and abrupt — and blurted:

"Someone tried to flirt with me today."

Felicity blinked.

Tilted her head slightly, eyebrows raised — curious, not alarmed.

"Okay," she said, in the same tone she might use if he told her they were out of clean towels.

Oscar frowned.

"No, like — really tried. At a media thing. In front of cameras."

She just blinked again. Still calm. Still patient.

Still not mad.

Just... waiting.

Oscar swallowed.

"And I didn’t realize it was flirting until Lando nearly had an aneurysm."

That earned him a real laugh — soft, sudden, surprised. The kind of laugh she gave him when Bee said something absurd or when Oscar accidentally fixed something in the kitchen by whacking it with a shoe.

It went straight to his chest.

God, he loved her.

"And I was worried—" he continued, words stumbling out now like they’d been dammed up too long, "I was worried you’d think I was — I don’t know — encouraging it or — or being stupid, or not noticing because I wanted to miss it—"

Felicity crossed the room in three quick steps, not breaking eye contact once.

She dropped onto the couch beside him, slid her legs over his lap like she did every night, and tucked herself against his side like she’d always belonged there.

"You thought I’d be mad," she said, amused, "because some random influencer tried to flirt with you?"

Oscar nodded miserably, guilt still clinging to the back of his throat.

Felicity pulled back just enough to look up at him.

Eyes shining. Smile small and full of something dangerously close to laughter.

"Oscar," she said slowly, "I saw the whole video. You tried to offer her hydration advice."

He groaned, already regretting every decision he’d made since opening his mouth.

"Please don’t remind me."

"You told her to stretch her hip flexors," Felicity said, delighted. "Oscar, you sounded like a yoga instructor trying to scare off a client."

"Bee probably would’ve handled it better," he muttered, rubbing at his face.

Felicity laughed — a real one this time, head back, eyes crinkled, full-body kind of joy.

Oscar melted a little.

She curled closer, arms winding around his waist like she didn’t intend to let go anytime soon.

"I’m not mad, love," she said gently, brushing her nose against his shoulder. "She never stood a chance."

Oscar blinked down at her, stunned. A little breathless.

Felicity grinned up at him.

"You are so... mine, it’s not even funny."

She said it like a joke. She said it like a truth carved in stone.

Both were true.

Oscar let out a long, shaky breath, tension finally bleeding out of his chest.

"I just didn’t want you to think—"

She kissed his cheek, quieting him with the ease of someone who knew every version of him — the champion, the kid from karting, the dad who braided Bee’s hair with frog clips.

"I married you," Felicity whispered. "I know exactly who you are. I trust you with my life. And frankly, if anyone tries to flirt with you again, I might just send them a condolence card."

Oscar laughed, startled and in love and still trying to figure out how he’d ever ended up this lucky.

"And also," Felicity added, smirking like a fox who had absolutely won, "it’s way too funny to be jealous about."

He buried his face into her neck, overwhelmed by the warmth of her, by the sharp edges of her wit and the soft edges of her love.

"You’re ridiculous," he mumbled, muffled by her skin.

"And you," she said, threading her fingers through his hair like he was something precious, "are very bad at realizing when people want you." A beat. "And your brain is permanently stuck on ‘wife good, daughter best, car fast.’"

Oscar smiled, eyes closed, letting her steady him with nothing more than her heartbeat and her presence.

"You really aren’t mad?" he asked, still half-disbelieving.

Felicity leaned back, just far enough to look at him fully — bright-eyed and ferociously sure.

"Oscar," she said solemnly, "you are the most obliviously loyal man I’ve ever met. If I had to design a loyalty test, it would look like you."

Oscar kissed the curve of her throat, slow and reverent.

"Good thing I only ever wanted you," he murmured.

Felicity’s arms tightened around him, like she could will him into her bones.

"Exactly," she whispered.

Exactly.

Little Big Fan Series Masterlist

A Max Verstappen x SingleMother!Reader Story

Status: complete (still updating for blurbs)

Series Summary: Your daughter runs off while you were in the middle of grocery shopping because she spotted Max, her favourite driver. Meeting you, Max wants to know everything about you and your six year old. So of course he finds excuses to keep meeting you, starting with inviting you to the Dutch Grand Prix.

total wc: 33.1k

Note: feel free to request a drabble or chapter idea for this story.

#lbf fic talks -> writing process, answering asks about the story, and pretty much anything related to this fic series.

1. Little Big Fan (1.6k words)

2. Little Big Flight (1.7k words)

3. Little Big Race (2.4k words)

4. Little Big Celebration (1.6k words)

5. Little Big Surprise (3.3k words)

6. Little Big Gifts (1.9k words)

7. Little Big Movie Night (2.4k words)

8. Little Big Allergy (3.6k words)

9. Little Big Phone Calls (1.7k words)

10. Little Big Date Night (1.9k words)

11. Little Big Schooldays (2k words)

12. Little Big Relationships (2.1k words)

13. Little Big Sleepover (2k words)

14. Little Big Champion (1.9k words)

15. Little Big Aftermath (3k words)

Little Big Blurbs

Mr. Bear & Bearman

Braid Bonding

Mother’s Day Special

Hide & Flee

parents of three l MV1 imagine

a/n: sooo max is officially a dad 😭😭 so I picked up the draft of my dad!Max series with the twins which you can find here! I hope you like it and let me m ow if you have some ideas!

summary: baby verstappen nº3 is here, and the twins are now happy with the idea.

It had been a quiet morning, at least by the new Verstappen household standards.

The Monaco penthouse, usually alive with the squabbling of six-year-old twins and the occasional feline disaster, was unusually peaceful. The cause of this rare tranquility? The arrival of Baby Lia had everyone mesmerized, literally and metaforically having everyone wrapped around her little finger.

Youcradled the newborn in your arms, gently rocking her in the nursery Max had insisted on painting himself. Pale pink walls, soft grey furniture, and a mobile of tiny stars that the twins helped assemble.

“You’re not even crying today,” you murmured, brushing a soft kiss on Lia’s forehead. “It’s like you know I needed a break, what a smart baby, yes you are.”

Footsteps padded down the hallway, fast and energetic. Then came the crash of something toppling over. The twins ready to disrupt the quiet.

“Mila!” Luca’s voice rang out, shrill and dramatic. “You almost dropped her bunny!”

“It’s not my fault Jimmy knocked it down!” Mila huffed back.

You sighed, smiling despite the quiet moment gone. The calm had lasted exactly twelve minutes.

You stepped into the hallway with Lia, just in time to see Jimmy dart out from under the baby’s toy box with a fluff of pink clutched between his teeth.

“Mama!” Mila wailed, dramatic tears already forming. “Jimmy stole Lia’s bunny!”

“Yes, because you dropped it, Mila!” Luca reprimanded his twin.

Before you could intervene, Max’s voice boomed from the kitchen. “Jimmy! No stealing from the baby!”

Max appeared, wearing sweatpants, a Red Bull hoodie, and holding two sippy cups. He looked equally amused and tired. parenthood in a nutshell.

“Crisis averted?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“I think Jimmy wants attention,” you replied, bouncing Lia gently. “He’s jealous, he probably thought it was only going to be the twins forever.”

Max chuckled, scooping up the cat and plopping him into Luca’s arms. “That’s what happens when you’ve ruled the house for years. Then babies come and steal your spotlight. Tough life.”

“And what about Sassy?” You asked Max.

Max glanced toward the back of the couch where Sassy lounged with the disinterest of a feline queen, which of course she was. “She’s plotting our demise, probably.”

You snorted, the vibrations of your body earning a smile from Lia.

The twins came running, now united in their mission: cooing at their baby sister.

“Can I hold her again?” Mila asked, reaching for Lia’s tiny hand.

“No, me first!” Luca insisted, already positioning the couch pillows for support just like Max had shown them.

You sighed again, this time with a full heart. You remembered the day you told the twins about the pregnancy, Luca had declared he didn’t want “a baby stealing his toys,” and Mila had spent the afternoon sulking because “babies are boring.” And both of them had tried really hard to stop the baby’s arrival.

Now? They were obsessed.

It was later that weekend in Miami when Max found himself being cornered in the paddock for an interview with Sky Sports Netherlands.

“So Max,” the interview began in Dutch, “congratulations again on the new addition to the family! How are things going at home with three kids now?”

Max grinned, hands in his pockets. “Chaotic. Loud. Exhausting… Perfect.”

The interviewer laughed. “And the twins? How are Mila and Luca adjusting? I remember they weren’t too pumped when we crossed paths a few months ago.”

Max didn’t hesitate. “Honestly? I thought they’d hate it. When we told them (Y/N) was pregnant, Luca wanted to move out.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Mila made us sign a paper saying we’d still play Barbie games with her even after the baby came. They were so in denial that we got a call from their teacher.”

The small group of journalists laughed.

“But now?” Max continued. “They’re obsessed. They follow Lia around like bodyguards. Luca brings her toys she can’t even use, Mila sings to her. They fight about who gets to hold her. I think I’ve held her less than both of them.”

“And the cats?” The interviewer teased. “I hear Jimmy and Sassy have opinions.

“Oh, Jimmy’s a menace. He tries to sleep in the crib,” Max said, his tone fond. “Sassy’s smarter, she gives Lia a five-foot radius. She watches from a distance like she’s evaluating her for royal court or something which is very entertaining.”

There was more laughter.

“Sounds like a full house.”

Max nodded. “It is. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

-

Back home, the house was quieter than usual.

With Max in Miami, you were managing the trio on your own. Your mother had offered to stay, but you politely declined, liking the rhythm and evolving routine; early mornings with Lia after the twins left to school, midday chaos with the twins, and long, quiet evenings watching Max on the TV while feeding the baby.

You curled onto the couch, baby Lia nestled in a wrap on your chest, Mila curled up beside you, and Luca was completely knocked out from building a Lego fortress with a secret baby princess chamber, which he assured was for both Lia and Mila.

Max’s interview played in the background. “Luca wanted to move out,” Max said on the screen, laughing.

You giggled, watching Luca’s face twitch in sleep as if he’d heard his name.

The moment made your heart ache with pride and love.

Two days later, Max came home.

The door opened quietly, he’d learned not to make noise just in case Lia was sleeping, but before he could take a step in, Mila barreled into him.

“Papa!” she squealed.

Max laughed, lifting her with one arm and dropping his bag with the other. Luca followed, hugging Max’s waist.

You appeared at the end of the hall, holding Lia with one hand and balancing a bottle in the other. “Hello babe, the house didn’t burn down.”

He met you halfway, kissing you deeply, letting his hand rest over Lia’s tiny head. “Missed you,” he whispered on your lips.

“She missed you too. She kept staring at the TV every time you talked.”

“She’s a Verstappen, she knows good racing.” Max bragged, a habit he picked since the twins were born was now at its peak after the birth of Lia. “Plus, she was conceived the night I won the fourth so she knows what’s good.” Max whispered the last part so the twins wouldn’t hear.

Later that night, the five of you, cats included, were on the bed.

Mila had brought her blanket, Luca had brought snacks which were promptly confiscated by Max. Jimmy snuggled into Max’s feet while Sassy stared at the baby with mild disapproval.

Lia gurgled softly between you, wearing a pale pink Red Bull onesie Max had been gifted by the team.

“I can’t believe we made her,” you whispered, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I know,” he whispered back, brushing his thumb along Lia’s little hand. “She’s perfect.”

“I was so scared,” you admitted. “I thought adding another baby would ruin the balance and let’s be honest, we never really thought about having another baby, we were just desperate to celebrate your championship.” You giggled, remembering the night.

Max turned to you, cupping your cheek. “You were right to be scared. But we didn’t ruin anything. We just… added more love.”

Luca yawned. “Papa, can Lia come to the next race?”

Max smiled. “Not yet, buddy. But soon.”

Mila curled next to her mother. “She needs earmuffs with her name printed, like the ones we use when we go see daddy race.”

“She’ll have them,” Max promised. “We’ll get her baby-sized ones.”

You smiled, the warmth in your chest spreading like sunlight.

“I know we have enough but… I think we need a new cat.” Max proposed.

You snorted. “Excuse me?”

Max shrugged. “It’s only fair! The twins have Jimmy and Sassy, Lia deserves her own.” Your husband worked his beautiful blue eyes on you.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” You said, knowing this fight was already lost.

“Mila was also talking about a puppy after meeting Leo.”

“Max!”

Respectfully, I believe that this man fucks.

GONNA WRITE MYSELF A MR CHO X READER INSERT SMUT FANFIC AND IT WILL BE 100% SELF INDULGENT.

@toobadforthefacts this man owns my heart

- streamer au | smau and narrative fic

- pretentious gamer Joon x soft gamer reader (fem and poc)

- e2f2l, eventual fuck buddies | fuckboy!Joon (kinda) | angst, smut (mostly implied later on), fluff

~ You were doing just fine, playing your sims and animal crossing games, having a good time in the corner of the internet you have created for yourself, when Kim Namjoon comes barreling through. He’s dead set on destroying any comfort you may have found in the gaming community, but you’re not gonna let him get away with it. Contrary to his belief, you can strategize an attack better than he expects. 🎮

Keep reading

Did You Eat? - Max Verstappen

@harrysperfectdimple prompt request #19 - "You're making me so fat and every time I complain you make me feel better by buying me more food."

Summary: Max just wants to make sure his girlfriend is eating properly and y/n is trying to maintain a "healthy" weight with an enabler boyfriend.

Themes/warnings: Unhealthy eating habits, distressed scenes about weight

Word count: 1.2k

Y/n loves food of all kinds, one of her favourite things to do while travelling with Max is try the new cuisines of whatever country they're visiting. Not always a luxury Max can indulge in since he has a diet he still has to try and stick to. But he does encourage y/n to eat as much as he can.

It's a habit of his that came as a result of their early dating life when y/n would "forget" to eat but really just put off eating for as much of the day so that when the last meal of the deal would come along she'd eat and then go to sleep to prevent any further eating. Obviously that was a concerning habit for Max to witness and he's worked to force her to break it.

For y/n it's come at a cost.

"Oh my god." Y/n gasps in a whisper to herself in horror actually feeling tears gather in her eyes as she sees how much weight she's gained. "Fucking hell."

Y/n sniffles deciding she'll have to dodge Max for the day since he's home.

So she finds some clothes that cover her body without feeling like she looks like a slob and gets herself out the bedroom finding Max already setting up on his simulator which is going to make her mission to disappear for the day especially easy.

"Hey, baby. You're dressed up. Are you going out?" Max asks with a smile since he's not on the simulator quite yet.

"Yeah, figured I'd run a few errands. Make use of a nice day. Might stop somewhere to eat." Y/n smiles lightly trying to make sure she plays off hiding her thoughts that are internally wrecking her already. "I'll see you later. Have fun."

"You too. Love you." Max smiles as she leans over and kisses him before standing up.

"Love you too."

-

Y/n's stomach was actually aching with hollowness from a day of actively avoiding food as she finally returns home nearly 9pm. She'd even taking herself to the gym for a 3 hour session to the point her whole body aches.

She just has to shower and then get herself to sleep.

"Hey, baby. Is that you?" Max asks appearing from the bathroom with a towel dangerously low on his hips and if she was feeling more confident in herself, she'd pounce on him. And he almost seems to be expecting exactly that as she stares at him for a moment.

"I uhh...I'm tired. I'm just gonna shower then head to bed." Y/n mumbles earning a small nod but she knows she's made a grave error.

Max is like a blood hound for sniffing out her off moods and she hardly even tried to hide it all. The lack if food making her mood completely out of her usual control.

Unsurprisingly Max follows her to the bathroom silently and hops up on the counter as she turns on the water and strips off. And he stays silent the whole time she showers while y/n completely avoids looking at him and rushes through the shower to try and just get herself to bed.

"You going to tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just tired, it's been a long day and I've been busy. How was the races?" Y/n shrugs trying to dodge the issue entirely.

If Max clocks that she hasn't eaten, the whole effort for the day will be for nothing.

"Cuddle?" Y/n asks trying to soften the Dutchman who finally softens and smiles at the offer.

She's only hoping they can both fall asleep before her stomach starts making some wild noises. But she does make sure to put on a movie that is quite loud so that should hopefully mask any noises that do make her stomach known.

Thankfully the plan works but the next morning she pays the price and her stomach just aches while she feels so exhausted that she can't manage to drag herself out of bed even after realising that Max is already up and getting on with her day.

So she decides a day of bed rotting will be her choice of dodging food. Sadly for her Max has already clocked onto what she was doing yesterday and he appears ripping the blanket off of her with a determined aggression.

"Hey, what the hell? I don't feel well."

"I know you don't and you don't feel well because you haven't eaten in over a day and the fact that you thought I wouldn't notice is annoying." Max states coldly since he hates when she does this but he immediately softens when tears bring spring from her eyes. "Hey, what's wrong? Why are we having this conversation again?"

"You're making me so fat and every time I complain you make me feel better by buying me more food." Y/n hiccups while Max's eyes widen and he sits on the bed, gathering her body up to just hold her in his lap.

"Baby, what are you talking about you're not fat at all?" Max frowns while y/n sniffles.

"I weighed myself and I've put on 5 kilos, Max. That's not healthy and I see it-I have stretch marks on my thighs and my stomach and it's-"

"Stop it. Stop. Baby, you are so beautiful and I just want you to be healthy and eat because you need to eat." Max sighs shaking his head. "And I throwing them fucking scales away."

"Don't treat me like that. I'm not happy." Y/n mumbles while Max squeezes her a little.

"Baby, if you want to lose weight then you have to do it healthily. You can't just starve yourself." Max sighs and she hates him because she knows he's right but it's not any nicer to hear. "How about we just talk to a proper dietitian and nutritionist and Rupert can even get you working out with me and we'll find a healthy way for you to keep eating and to lose weight like you want-but you're not just losing weight till you dwindle away."

"Ok." Y/n mumbles with a small nod.

"Good girl. Now before we do all that. You are eating something. Healthy or not, you body needs food and that's why you don't feel good, and you're in a bad mood and you're unhappy."

"Fine." Y/n sighs before accepting a kiss while she smiles a little at the fact that she knows she's lucky to have a man who cares as much and in the way Max does. Even if she wishes he'd let her be unhealthy. She knows she does appreciate him being this way towards her. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, baby. I'm here to take care of you. I love you."

"I love you too, a lot."

"Now come on, I've got a bunch of food for you to choose from. I'll even spoon feed you."

Brother||Platonic!Max verstappen x Fem!reader

Summary— Max has to say goodbye to the little sister he took under his wing

The beginning of this fic is based on this video

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP81gqepM/

Tagging— @ironmaiden1313

Warning character death sad angsty read at your own risk

Max sat on the chair next to y/n's bed looking down at the girl. His friendship with her was important as she was like a little sister to him. Even then he saw himself in the younger girl — another version of him, hardworking and dedicated to the sport.

Max always thought Y/n would make it to Formula One if it wasn’t for the accident. She would have been a possible contender for the second Red Bull seat, which Max would do anything to make happen. Just like he’d do anything to wake her up.

He thought back to when they had that interview when y/n joked saying that “Max wasn’t allowed to retire until they were teammates,” something that he was fine with.

"Hi, I'm Max Verstappen, and I'm a Miami taxi driver," Max joked. Y/n smiled at the camera and introduced herself, "Hi, I'm Y/n l/n, and I'm an F1 academy driver."

The two drivers were seated in the rear of the car, with Max holding a can of Red Bull, and Y/n clutching her water bottle. They both were wearing a Red Bull team polo shirt and a hat to match.

Max turned to Y/n and teased, "That sounded better than my intro," which led to a chuckle from both of them. "Stroopwafels or Poffertjes?" Y/n asked, sparking a friendly debate. "I would go with Stroopwafels, but that's only because I think I had too many Poffertjes when I was growing up," Max replied with a grin. The interviewer then asked about their most memorable races.

"For me, it's Barcelona because my first win was there," Y/n said, smiling and nodding her head. "Winning my first Formula 1 race, as well " Max responded with enthusiasm. "That was your first win in Barcelona, right?" the interviewer clarified. "Yep, Barcelona is good to us," Max confirmed, looking over at Y/n. "Yeah, Barcelona is good to us," Y/n chimed in.

The memory of the thrilling moment lingers vividly in her mind. She vividly recalls the exhilarating instant she surpassed Lia Block just as they crossed the finish line, securing first place. Her veins pulsed with adrenaline as she gingerly rose from the car, feeling the weight of her legs and the trembling sensation. With a triumphant smile, she emerged from the car and dashed toward the barrier where her team awaited, leaping into the air amidst the cheering crowd. Y/n's heart pounded wildly in her ears, reminiscent of the thundering sound of galloping horses in full stride.

The interview moved on to discussing their racing career and their experiences. Y/n shared how she started in karting and worked her way up through the motorsport ladder. Max chimed in, recalling his karting origins as well as the passion and dedication throughout his journey. The interviewer asked, "What's the best part about being a driver?"

Max answered, "It's the adrenaline rush of racing and the feeling of success when you win a race." "I agree," Y/n added. "The thrill of racing and the satisfaction of improving." The interview continued, and the conversation shifted to their off-track lives.

"What's your favorite pastime outside of racing?" the interviewer asked. "I like to relax and spend time with friends and family," Y/n replied. Max chuckled and added, "I'm a bit of a video game enthusiast."

"I've learned that playing video games requires as much focus and skill as racing," Y/n teased. "So, Max, any special someone in your life?" the interviewer jokes, prompting smiles from both drivers.

Max chuckled and jokingly replied, "Yeah, my two cats." Y/n joined in, chiming in with, "I have a goldfish, does that count?" Causing everyone around them to laugh at her statement. The interview took a lighthearted turn as they began discussing their favorite tracks and memories.

"Apart from Barcelona, what's your favorite track?" the interviewer asked. "Spa," Y/n responded without hesitation. "The Belgian crowds are amazing, and it's a historic track."

Max nodded, adding, "Spa's a good one. For me, it's hard to beat my home track, Zandvoort."

“Oooh I love Zandvoort” y/n responded with a gleam in her eyes. Max grinned, looking at Y/n's enthusiasm. "I knew you had good taste in tracks," he teased. "Zandvoort has a unique atmosphere, and the fans are passionate." The interview moved on to questions about their relationship, and the conversation took a more serious turn. "It's no secret that you two have a close relationship," the interviewer said. "How would you describe your bond?" Max looked at Y/n, waiting for her to respond. Y/n smiled and spoke with confidence, "We're like siblings. We know each other inside and out, and we can rely on each other no matter what." Max added to her answer, saying, "We support each other both on and off the track. It's a rare connection, and I'm grateful for it." The interviewer smiled and nodded “And lastly do the two of you see yourselves as teammates in the future?” They asked.

Max looked at Y/n, and they both smiled before Max responded with a hint of determination. "That's the plan. Y/n and I have been working together for years, pushing each other and learning from each other. Together, we could make history." Y/n nodded in agreement.

“I also told Max that he’s not allowed to retire until we become teammates” Y/n jokes. Max chuckled and jokingly retorted, "I guess I'll have to stick around for a bit longer, then." Y/n smiled, adding, "You better keep that promise. We have big dreams to fulfill." The interviewer wrapped up the interview, expressing gratitude to both Y/n and Max for the insightful conversation. As they walked out of the studio, Max turned to Y/n. "You know, you have a way with words." Y/n shrugged, "What can I say? We're a great team." "We are," Max agreed, putting his arm around Y/n's shoulder. "But I have to admit, you saying that I can't retire until we become teammates was pretty funny."

“Oh I was serious” Max chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Are you saying you'll try to block my retirement?” Y/n shrugged with a mischievous smile, "If that's what it takes to become teammates, then you bet I will."

Max shook his head in amused disbelief. "You're something else, you know that?"

Y/n just smiled, enjoying the lighthearted banter between them. “Trust me Max I know”

Wiping away the tears from his eyes Max's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the hospital room door opening. A nurse entered, checking on Y/n's vitals and making sure everything was alright.

Taking a moment to observe the girl, Max couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. Despite the steady beeping of the heart monitor, Y/n lay eerily still in her bed, her condition critical.

The nurse, sensing Max's concern, walked over to him. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder rubbing her thumb against his shoulder.

“You should go home and get some rest” the nurse suggested in a soft but firm tone. Max scoffed at her statement he wasn’t exactly in the mood for unsolicited advice from anyone at the moment.

"How is she doing?" Max inquired, his voice filled with worry, he didn’t care about anything else that wasn’t his friend.

The nurse glanced at Y/n's chart before responding, "Her condition remains critical, but no change so far."

Max nodded, staring at Y/n's still form, praying for some sign of improvement.

“I meant what I said before Mr.Verstappen you should go home and rest. I don’t think your friend would want you to sit here and beat yourself up over something you can’t control.” The nurse says with a tight-lipped smile and a soft tone.

Max turned his attention back to his friend. He reached out to hold Y/n's hand, feeling the coolness of her skin against his own.

"Come on, Y/n. You've got to pull through," Max whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

Max closed his eyes, recalling the memory of the accident vividly. He could still hear the sound of the collision and the sight of Y/n's car spinning out of control. It was a scene that he had replayed countless times in his mind.

He remembered the rush of fear and adrenaline when he first saw the accident and the way his heart stopped when he realized it was Y/n in the mangled car.

Max clenched his fists, the emotions from that day flooding back to him. The helplessness he had felt as he watched the paramedics rush to the scene, the desperate hope that she would be okay. And the sickening feeling in his stomach when he was informed of the extent of her injuries.

Y/n’s skin was covered in dark purple bruises and cuts that were covered with gauze, curious Max reached over and grabbed the folder that contained the information about Y/n’s injuries. She had eternal bruises and a fractured rib followed by two broken ones; her femur, the radius, and the ulna in her right arm were also broken. The more Max read on her injuries the more he felt sick to his stomach.

Y/n also had a small hairline fracture in her skull instinctively Max touched the side of his head from when he had his big accident back in 2021 during the Silverstone Grand Prix realizing how lucky he was. Continuing reading the charts y/n was also punctured by a piece of carbon fiber slicing through her Kidney, Liver, and aorta artery causing major blood loss the more Max read about y/n the sicker he felt.

The accident had happened during a pre-season Barcelona test. It was supposed to be just a routine session, a chance to try out some new car parts and strategize for the upcoming season.

But things went awry when Y/n lost control of her car on the rain-dampened track. Her car skidded out of control, slamming into the safety barrier with a sickening crunch.

The impact had been severe, and Max's heart stopped as he watched the chaotic scene unfolding before him. Max watched on the monitors as the medics worked on pulling her bloodied and unconscious form from the wreckage.

In that instant, Max's world had shifted. The laughter and banter they had shared just moments ago in the interview room now felt like a cruel echo of the present. As he sat by her bedside, holding her motionless hand, all Max could think about was how unfair life could be.

Somehow by the grace of god, Max was convinced that he should go home, shower, and rest. Sighing Max walked into his apartment tossing his keys onto the table by the door he was also greeted by his two cats Jimmy and Sassy who he was grateful to see.

“Hi guys,” Max says squatting down to pet the cats who were happy to see their dad. “Are you hungry?” Max asked walking into the kitchen to feed the cats. Once the cats were fed and happy Max went to his bedroom turning on the light he walked over to his dresser picking out clean clothes to put on after his shower. Emptying his pockets Max plugged in his phone to charge while he was showing.

In the bathroom, Max gazed at his reflection in the mirror. He appeared worn out, with a complexion flushed and swollen from tears. His eyes were bloodshot and stung from sleep deprivation, and the dark circles beneath them were a deep shade of purple. Once Max took in his appearance he turned in the shower to the desired temperature of water and stripped out of his clothes.

The hot water felt good on his sore muscles, something Max was grateful for in that moment. He stood there underneath the water until it turned cold. That's when Max got out of the shower and got dressed. It wasn’t long after his shower Max got into bed for the night sleep welcoming him as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Max was woken up by the sound of his phone ringing groaning out in exhaustion. He sat up in bed and looked at his phone to see who was calling him. Max felt his heart race at the sight of y/n’s calling him. Max immediately. Answered her phone call.

“Mrs. L/n is everything alright?” Max asked, standing up to pace around his bedroom.

Max was met with silence from the other end of the phone “Oh Max I’m so sorry” Mrs. L/n lets out shakily and Max’s heart breaks even more than it already was.

“No no she didn’t— she’s still here she has to be,” Max says in denial refusing to accept the harsh reality that his friend was gone.

"Max, I'm sorry. She’s gone," Mrs. L/n says, letting out a broken sob, and with a single sentence Max's whole world came crashing down around him with a choking sob and an anguishing scream.

———-

The warmth she felt was a kind of warmth that radiated from the sun and she also felt safe, which was kinda ironic since the last thing she could remember was her car spinning out of control just before crashing into the barrier before her whole world had gone pitch black and cold.

Opening her eyes Y/n noticed that she was lying in soft green grass looking around she noticed a group of people standing around a freshly dug grave. Confused, Y/n stood up brushing off the black dress pants she was wearing. Black pants that she didn’t remember putting on hell Y/n didn’t even remember how she got here in the cemetery.

The closer y/n got to the group of people she realized that these were her closest friends and family. Looking around she noticed Max who stood tall and composed, dressed in a black suit as he looked out over the funeral service. It was a beautiful ceremony, yet the grief weighed heavily in the palpable air.

As Y/n approached the group, no one seemed to notice her presence. They were all deeply immersed in the funeral service, their faces etched with grief and sadness. The air was heavy with a mix of sorrow and acceptance, a stark reminder of the reality they were facing.

Her parents were seated in the front row, silently weeping. Max stood nearby, his gaze fixed on the open grave where her coffin would soon be lowered.

Feeling out of place and utterly confused, Y/n tried to approach Max, hoping to get his attention. But as she neared him, her body passed directly through him, making her gasp in surprise.

Max didn't react, not even seeming to notice the feeling of her presence passing through him. It was a surreal and unsettling experience for Y/n, who couldn't make sense of what was happening.

a realization dawned on Y/n as she took in her surroundings, the people gathered at the funeral, and the grave that was awaiting her. She remembered the accident and the blackness that followed, the absence of any feeling or sensation.

"Am I...am I dead?" she asked aloud, her voice barely above a whisper.

The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, crashing down on her with the weight of finality. She wasn't just injured or in a coma; she had lost her life in the tragic accident.

Tears welled up in Y/n's eyes, her chest feeling tight as the reality of her situation sank in. She had been so focused on her dreams and ambitions, so determined to become a Formula 1 driver, and now it was all over.

She looked at her parents, grief-stricken and tearful, and then at Max, a man who had become like a brother to her through their shared passion and friendship.

The weight of sadness and regret settled deeply in her heart as she watched Max standing there, stoically carrying on without her. As the ceremony continued, Y/n realized that she was nothing more than a specter, an observer of the event that marked her death. She was a ghost, unseen and unheard, a silent witness.

The realization was both heartbreaking and surreal. She had dreams, aspirations, and a future that had all been snatched away in a single instant.

At that moment, Y/n just wanted to reach out and touch Max, to tell him how much he meant to her and how much she would miss him.

But she knew it was futile. She was trapped in this ghostly state, unable to interact with the living world in any meaningful way.

All Y/n could do was watch from the sidelines as her friends and family said their final farewells, her heart aching with a mixture of sorrow and longing.

Soon the funeral came to an end and y/n watched as Max placed a single flower on top of the coffin.

“Vaarwel Zus,” Max says with a whisper.

As Max stepped back from the grave, the finality of the situation weighed heavily on him. Y/n saw the grief etched on his face, mingled with a sense of loss and acceptance.

"Vaarwel," Max whispered again, his voice filled with nostalgia and sadness.

Y/n watched as her mom approached Max, her voice filled with a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. Tears streamed down her face, and she struggled to find the right words.

"Max," she said, her voice quivering, "Thank you for being there for my daughter. She always spoke so fondly of you. You were like family to her."

Max, his expression filled with a hint of sadness, placed a comforting hand on her mom's arm.

"Y/n was also family to me," he replied softly. "She was one of the strongest and most determined people I've ever known. I'm honored to have been her friend."

Y/n smiled faintly as she listened to their conversation. Despite the circumstances, it warmed her heart to know that Max cared deeply for her and that their bond extended beyond their shared passion for racing.

“Oh Max you should have been there" She got the call for pre-season testing in Barcelona. She was so excited I've never seen her so happy Y/n was excited to become your teammate” Mrs.L/n says

Max's eyes softened upon hearing those words. He remembered how Y/n had joked about them becoming teammates, and a pang of sadness hit him. That dream would never become a reality now.

"I remember," Max responded, his voice filled with nostalgia and regret. "She deserved that chance. Y/n had more talent and determination than anyone I knew."

Mrs.L/n nodded, tears still streaming down her face. "She looked up to you, you know."

Max looked down, guilt and sorrow filling his heart. "I should have been there to guide her, to support her. But it's too late now."

Mrs.L/n reached out to grasp Max's arm gently. "Don't blame yourself, Max. You were an excellent friend to her. Y/n was an amazing girl, but fate had other plans."

Max's eyes met Mrs.L/n's, and he saw a mixture of pain and acceptance. "I'll always feel like I could have done more. She was so young, with so much potential and ambition."

Mrs.L/n's voice trembled as she spoke again. "She had so many dreams. She wanted to make her mark in Formula 1."

"And she would have," Max said, his voice filled with conviction. "Y/n was born to race."

They stood there in silence, the weight of the loss hanging heavily. Max's mind was flooded with memories of Y/n - the laughter, the banter, the shared passion for racing. The emptiness she left behind felt immense.

The connection they had was unique, and now with Y/n gone, Max felt the absence more than ever. He could only hope that wherever she was, Y/n was surrounded by peace and happiness.

Mrs.L/n looked up at Max, gratitude filling her eyes. "You were like a brother to her, Max. Thank you for being there for her. Thank you for being a part of her life."

Max gently squeezed her arm, his voice cracking with emotion. "I was lucky to have her as a friend. Y/n was one of the best people I've ever known. She'll always be in my heart."

They stood there, two people connected by a profound loss, each silently honoring the memory of Y/n. The bond they shared, forged through their love for her, would endure with time.

Mrs.L/n hugged Max tightly, her body trembling with grief. "Please take care of yourself," she murmured. Max nodded, holding her close and providing comfort and unwavering support.

"I will," he assured her. "I'll make sure to honor Y/n's memory and continue living passionately. That's what she would have wanted."

They shared a moment of silent understanding before Mrs.L/n pulled back, her eyes still filled with tears. Max stepped back, watching as she walked towards the car with her husband and children, leaving him alone at the graveyard.

Y/n stood there with tears streaming down her face as she listened to her mom and friend talk about her. All she could do was smile sadly at the two of them as they had their conversation. She watched as her mom and Max had one last hug before parting ways.

“Goodbye, Mom I love you,” Y/n says, reaching out fingertips lightly brushing against her mom's arm causing her to falter in her steps looking over to where her daughter stood, seeing nothing she shook her head and kept walking the car.

Y/n turned to look at Max who stood firm in his position “Thank you Max for everything” she said reaching up to try to wipe away one of his tears.

Max was overwhelmed by a sense of comfort that washed over him as If it was warm and comforting. Looking up and around, Max couldn't shake the feeling that Y/n's presence was with him. He was certain that she was right there with him.

“Thank you for everything Y/n” Max says, smiling a small smile.

“tot ziens broer” Y/n whispers before going into the light.

smokescreen | knj sm au

banner by: @dee-ehn

🖇 synopsis:

— don’t judge a book by its cover. unless the book is a six foot tall, dimpled muscle pig who has no problem bragging about the notches on his belt… not to mention his new unhinged determination to add you to the list.

pairing: rapper!namjoon x photographer!reader

fic type: social media au

side ships: yoonmin!! 2seok.

genre: smut!! idol au, enemies to lovers, boss/employee. angst… maybe

warnings: namjoon is a raging asshole and 100% fictional! i’m sure the real kim namjoon is a sweetheart - just not this one.

updates: everyday! (sometimes twice)

status: ongoing!!

A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

parts:

prologue: sunday morning scandal

character profiles: cypher v

character profiles: yoonmin stans ft. san

part one: caught in 4k

part two: slapping multimillionaires

bonus: under me

part three: work related

part four: unbelievably down

part five: snotty nose boy