Now That I’ve Found You, I Can’t Let You Go 𖦹 LN4
now that i’ve found you, i can’t let you go 𖦹 LN4
PAIRINGS: lando norris x alonso!reader
SUMMARY: you never imagined that a silly crush from 2018 would turn into something years after or you and lando are just idiots in love, and letting the nerves gets the better of you every time.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: can’t believe i just wrote a story that’s over 10k hdhfhdhd i’ll be inactive until next week (or until i’m done with my midterms). remaining requests will be done after my midterms. hope you’ll enjoy this one! :)
REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.
WORD COUNT: 10.6k
WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, photos and videos are taken from pinterest, single dad!nando, no use of y/n, overthinking, anxiety, google translated spanish, reader has no socmed accs, and idiots in love
You had always understood the reason why your father, Fernando, had kept you out of the spotlight. The media could be ruthless and vile, and being his only daughter, he wanted to protect you from the harsh glare that came with being associated with his world, and truth be told, you were very grateful for it. Just the thought of being under constant scrutiny would always make your skin crawl. You had always preferred the quiet life, the privacy, and to just focus on your studies. After all, you had spent the last several years pouring your energy into earning your degree in International Relations at the National University of Singapore.
The only time you had ever come to the paddock with Fernando was back in 2018, during his last season in F1. He had decided that he would leave F1 for a while because he wanted to take on bigger challenges outside of F1. That was also the first time you met Lando Norris, the bright-eyed young driver who would go on to replace your father’s vacated seat. You remembered that day clearly—Lando’s easy smile, the playful way he joked around the garage. You were shy, as always, but there was something about him that drew you in like a moth to a flame. You had managed to develop a small, harmless crush on him, a fleeting thought that never went beyond that single interaction with him. Then, you disappeared from the paddock, along with it are also your feelings for Lando, and began burying yourself in university life.
But now, here you were again, stepping into the paddock for the first time in years, a full-fledged adult, and very much out of your comfort zone. Fernando had invited you to join him for the season, and after much internal debate, you agreed. You had missed your father, not to mention that you weren’t there for him when he scored his first podium after seven years back in 2021, and you knew how much he wanted you to be a part of his world, even for just a short while. Yet, as you walked alongside Fernando, you felt a familiar knot of nerves tighten in your stomach. The cameras, noise, bustle—it was all overwhelming for you.
Fernando must have sensed your anxiety because he gently placed an arm around your shoulders. “You alright, princesa?” He said softly, voice calm and familiar. “Yeah, just…a lot of people.” You admitted softly, eyes darting around at the bustling crowd.
“Hey,” he said softly, leaning in closer, “remember that time when I visited you in Singapore, when we got lost looking for that restaurant, and I almost walked into a fountain?”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory. “You were so confident about the directions too, compared to your daughter who had been living in Singapore for years now.” Fernando grinned, the familiar warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a shield. “I’m never wrong about directions, mi vida. The fountain just got in the way.”
You shook your head, but the knot in your stomach began to loosen—his humor always works on you, as it always did, and you found yourself feeling slightly less on edge. You know that you would always be safe with your father, even in the paddock, where the eyes of the world could easily fall on you.
As you scanned the paddock, getting yourself familiar again with the surroundings, your heart skipped a beat when you spotted a familiar figure—Lando. He was walking nearby, assuming he just arrived, laughing at something, and for a brief second, it felt like no time had passed at all. Your old crush for him came rushing back, definitely unexpected and uninvited, bringing a sudden warmth to your cheeks. But just as quickly, your hope deflated when you saw a girl walking next to him, her hand wrapped around Lando’s arm. Of course, someone like him would have a girlfriend by now. Lando’s a handsome man, charming, and well…he’s Lando Norris. What were you even expecting?
Once you had settled in, Fernando had headed off for a meeting, and left you to your own devices. Until he had texted you to get something he had forgotten from his bag. So you found yourself on your way to his driver’s room at the Aston Martin motorhome. Your footsteps were quick, wanting to avoid any more awkward run-ins. As you rounded a corner, you bumped into someone, hard enough to make you stumble. But strong hands caught you before you could fall, and you found yourself face-to-face with Lando.
“Oh—hey!” Lando said, his voice bright with surprise. He paused, his gaze locking onto yours. “I remember you. You’re Fernando’s daughter, right? It’s been years since I last saw you.”
You froze for a moment, blinking in disbelief. Lando remembered you? After all these years? You never really expected him to remember you to be honest, you only had a brief interaction with him before.
“Uh, yeah,” you replied, feeling your face heat up. “It’s been a while.”
“I didn’t think you’d come back to the paddock,” he said, still smiling as his eyes looked at you, and for a second, you wondered if he noticed how much you had changed since you last first met. “You look…different. Good different,” he added, a bit awkwardly, as if he hadn’t meant to let the compliment slip.
“How’ve you been? What’s going on in your life?” He added.
You were stunned by how he had effortlessly struck up a conversation with you. You hadn’t been expecting any interaction with him, let alone such friendliness.
“I’ve been good,” you managed to say. “I just recently graduated from a university…in Singapore.”
“Wow, that’s impressive!” Lando said with a nod of approval. “What did you study?”
“International Relations.”
“Smart and beautiful, huh?” He teased lightly, his compliment catching you totally off guard.
You blinked, really unsure of how to respond. His words were casual, but they hit you harder than they should have. You spent so long thinking he wouldn’t even remember your name, and here he was, not only remembering but also showing genuine interest in your life. It was enough to make your heart race.
Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “I saw you with your girlfriend…”
Lando raised an eyebrow, confused for a moment. “Girlfriend? Oh—” he glanced behind him before laughing softly. “No, no. That’s just my cousin, she’s visiting this weekend.”
Your face burned with embarrassment. “Oh my god…I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to assume.”
“It’s alright,” he reassured, still smiling warmly. “But really, it’s good to see you. I hope we run into each other more often now that you’re back.”
Just as you were about to respond, Fernando appeared, his expression amused as he glanced between you and Lando. A smirk appeared on his face, and you immediately knew what was coming.
“There you are!” Fernando said, his voice carrying a hint of teasing. “I thought the media people had kidnapped you.”
“Nope, just me.” Lando laughed.
Fernando’s eyes twinkled knowingly as he rested a hand on your shoulder. “Well, we should get going, cariño. We don't want to keep you away from your busy schedule, Norris.”
“Alright,” Lando laughed. “Don’t be a stranger.” He said as he smiled at you and said his goodbyes.
You turned to leave, Fernando placed a hand on your back, gently guiding you forward. When you were a few steps away, he leaned in closer, whispering just loud enough for you to hear.
“So he remembers you, huh? I wonder why that is.” You glared up at him, but the blush on your cheeks gave you away. “Papa, stop.”
He just laughed, a warm, teasing sound. “It’s very cute, mi vida,” he teased, ruffling your hair. “I’m just saying. I know how you act around boys you like. Don’t forget, I’m your father.”
“I don’t like him,” you protested, though your voice lacked conviction. “Okay, okay. Maybe just a little.”
Fernando only chuckled, pulling you closer as you walked. “You know, I may be protective, but I’m not blind. Just remember, mi amor, no one will ever be good enough for you in my eyes. But if anyone makes you smile like that…well, maybe I can reconsider.”
It has already been a couple of months since you’re back in the paddock, and it still felt surreal. So much had changed, and yet, certain things remained the same—like how Fernando’s protective nature never faded, or how Lance had effortlessly stepped into the role of being your older brother, with just being older than you for two years, during this season. Ever since Fernando introduced you to Lance, he had taken it upon himself to watch over you, especially during race weekends when his and Fernando’s had their hands full, Lance would always make time. Honestly, Lance was like the cool big brother you never had, and though his playful teasing could get on your nerves, it was always in good spirit.
“Hey, you alright?” Lance asked, nudging you gently as you both stood near the garage, watching the mechanics prepare the cars. Fernando had been whisked away for an interview, leaving you with Lance, as usual.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied with a small smile. He gave you a knowing look. “You sure? You’ve been pretty quiet since we got here.”
“Just getting used to all of this again,” you admitted, gesturing vaguely to the track. “It’s been a while.”
Lance nodded thoughtfully. “True, it’s a lot to take in, especially with all the media and fans around. But you’ll get back into the groove. Besides, you’ve got me to help you out.” He grinned, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Thanks, Lance. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. I know Fernando can’t be here all the time, so I’ve got your back,” he said, slinging an arm around your shoulders in a casual, brotherly gesture. “Now, let’s go grab some coffee. I’ve got some time before we have our team meeting.”
As you walked through the paddock with Lance, he made it his mission to introduce you as well to a few people, keeping things light and easy. He was good at making sure you didn’t feel too overwhelmed, chatting away with everyone from the mechanics to PR staff. You felt comfortable around him, like you could just be yourself. However, Lance had also caught on to something that you had been trying to keep under wraps—your little crush on Lando Norris.
“So, Lando’s racing well this season, huh?” Lance commented casually as you passed the McLaren hospitality, his tone far too innocent for your liking.
“Don’t even start.” You glanced over at him, narrowing your eyes.
“What? I’m just saying,” Lance said, holding his hands up in mock surrender, though the smirk on his face betrayed his amusement. “You’ve been watching McLaren a lot today, just an observation.”
“I told you, I met him back in 2018. It’s not that big of a deal.” You rolled your eyes, but felt your cheeks warm.
“Uh-huh.” Lance’s grin widened. “So, you were surprised that he remembered you after all these years, huh? Sounds like someone made quite the impression.”
“Just like what Papa said,” you groaned, nudging him in the side. “Stop it, Lance.”
But he wasn’t letting up. “I mean, I get it. Lando’s a good-looking guy, charming, funny…oh, look! There he is!” He pointed ahead, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Lando walking toward the McLaren hospitality, chatting with a few team members.
“Lance—”
“Should I call him over?” Lance teased, raising his voice a little as if he were actually going to shout Lando’s name at any given moment.
Your eyes widened, and you quickly clamped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t you dare!”
He laughed behind your hand, his eyes sparkling with mischief. You dropped your hand, glaring at him, but he just grinned. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. I wouldn’t actually do it…unless, of course, you want me to.”
“I swear, Lance,” you mattered, glaring at him while he continued to laugh. “You’re impossible.”
“Hey, what are big brothers for if not to embarrass you in front of your crush?” Lance said, folding his arms across his chest with a smug grin. “You’re not even my real brother,” you shot back, though your tone held no malice.
Despite his teasing, you appreciated having Lance around. He made the chaos of the paddock feel more tolerable for you, especially when Fernando was busy with meetings or media obligations.
“Technicalities,” Lance said, waving a hand. “Besides, Fernando practically trusts me to look after you when he’s not around, so that makes me your honorary big brother—and as your big brother, it is my duty to tease you about your crush on Lando.”
“Can you please stop calling it a crush? It’s just…he’s nice, okay? That’s all!” You groaned in frustration, though a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips.
Lance raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying any of what you had said at all. “Right. Nice. Handsome, and funny, and…”
“Okay, okay!” You cut him off, your face burning with embarrassment. “I get it, you can shut up now.”
Lance chuckled again, then glanced over at Lando, who was still chatting nearby. “You know, he’s not that far. I bet you a hundred bucks that if I yelled out his name right now—”
“Lance, no!” You quickly covered his mouth with your hand again, “don’t even think about it.”
He pulled your hand away, laughing. “Fine, fine. But you owe me for holding back.”
“Owe you?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, for not embarrassing you in front of your ‘not-crush,’” he said, air-quoting the last part with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes, but there was a fondness in the gesture. Lance had a way of making the most nerve-wracking moments feel lighter. Though you knew he’d never actually go through with his threats to call out to Lando, he kept your mind off your nerves and made being in the paddock a lot more bearable.
Just as you were about to give him another half-hearted glare, Fernando returned, fresh from his interview.
“Everything okay here?” He asked, glancing between you and Lance, clearly sensing the playful tension. “All good.” Lance replied with a grin, but you could see the mischief still twinkling in his eyes.
Fernando looked at you, raising an eyebrow. “You sure? Lance hasn’t been teasing you, has he?” You shook your head, biting back a smile. “No, nothing I can’t handle.”
Fernando smiled, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Good. Come on, let’s go. We’ve got a bit of time before the team meeting, and I want to catch up with you.”
You and Lance followed your father, then you turned to him. “Thanks, Lance,” you said, voice soft.
Lance looked at you, slightly surprised by the sudden sincerity, then smiled warmly. “Don’t worry, I always got you.”
What you didn’t know, over the McLaren, Lando had also been dealing with his own set of nerves ever since that first conversation with you on your first day back at the paddock. It had been brief, but it left a mark on him. He couldn’t help but think about how much you had changed since the last time he saw you all those years ago—how you had grown into someone graceful, gorgeous, and kind, not to mention incredibly smart, which only made him more nervous to be around you.
Every time he would pass by the Aston Martin hospitality, he would always take a peek discreetly looking for you or when he saw you walking around the paddock with Fernando or Lance, his eyes would linger a little too long. But there was one problem—your father. As much as Lando respected Fernando, the idea of asking out his daughter was…intimidating, to say the least. The fact that Fernando was fiercely protective of you didn’t help. Yeah, he and Fernando were good mates on the grid, but that didn’t mean Lando was ready to risk his life, or his career, by doing something reckless, like trying to date the legendary driver’s only daughter.
So instead, Lando had been venting his frustrations at his teammate, Oscar, who had been on the receiving end of it and had quickly become the unwilling listener of Lando’s dilemma. Like the one he’s having right now. At this point, Lando is on the verge of a mental breakdown, and maybe possibly losing his mind about how he can ask you out.
“I don’t know, man,” Lando groaned as they sat in the McLaren garage, waiting for their next session. “She’s just…different. She’s smart, amazing, and don’t even get me started on how gorgeous she is. How am I supposed to ask her out when her dad is Fernando Alonso? I can’t compete with that.”
Oscar, who had been half-listening while scrolling through his phone, glanced up with an amused smile. “You’re overthinking it. You and Fernando get along just fine.”
“Yeah, on the track. This is completely different, mate!” Lando huffed, running a hand through his hair. “And what if she doesn’t even like me? I mean, she’s so quiet, I can’t tell if she’s interested or just being polite.”
Oscar leaned back in his seat, finally giving Lando his full attention. “You said she remembered you from 2018, right? That’s pretty much something. She’s been hanging around lately as well whenever Fernando would drop by at McLaren, so maybe she’s interested too. You’re never going to know unless you ask.”
Lando sighed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “But what if Fernando finds out and kills me? Or worse, what if he doesn’t kill me, and I have to deal with the awkwardness for the rest of the season?”
Oscar rolled his eyes. “Mate, if you’re this scared of Fernando, you’ll never get anywhere. Plus, he’s not going to bite your head off. He’s a pretty reasonable guy, you just need to grow a spine and ask her out already.”
Lando shot him a glare. “Easy for you to say! You didn’t see the way Fernando looked at me when she and I talked last time, it was like he was reading my mind. Oh I swear he knows. Plus, you’re not the one trying to score a date with his daughter or the one that he’ll be running off of the track!”
“Okay, first of all, Fernando wouldn’t actually run you off the track. He’s a professional, mate, and maybe he does know, and maybe that’s why you need to stop hiding and just get over it.” Oscar laughed, shaking his head, “and second, yeah, that’s true. But I am tired of hearing you whine about it. Either ask her out or move on, you’re driving me insane man.”
Lando groaned again, but Oscar’s words stuck with him. Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe you did like him too. After all, you had seemed genuinely surprised when he remembered you from all those years ago, and there was also something in the way you looked at him sometimes—shy, but with a glimmer of interest, at least that gave him hope. But then, he’d remember your father, Fernando’s face popping in his mind. Fernando Alonso. One of the most respected and competitive drivers on the grid. How was he supposed to approach that conversation?
“Alright,” Lando said after a long pause. “I’ll think about it. I’ll ask her out…eventually.”
Oscar groaned. “Mate, if you don’t do it soon, I’m going to ask her out for you, or better yet, I’ll just tell Fernando.”
“Okay, okay!” Lando laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll do it. Just…give me some time to figure everything out.”
“Well, better figure it out quickly. Chop chop!” Oscar warned with a smirk. “Or else I’m really going to tell Fernando that his daughter’s got a secret admirer.”
He paled at the thought, Lando knew that Oscar would completely do it, without a doubt, and there was no escaping it. He had to do something, or he’d never live it down.
Lando had spent the better part of the week agonizing over how he would ask you out. After days of pacing, internal battle, and driving Oscar up the wall with his endless worries and overthinking, he finally devised what he thought was a foolproof plan.
“Okay, here me out. I’m going to ask her out during the Singapore Grand Prix,” Lando announced confidently, arms crossed over his chest. He looked over at Oscar, who raised an eyebrow.
“Singapore? Why there?” Oscar asked, clearly skeptical and a little bit confused. Lando shifted nervously, but kept his chin up. “Think about it. If she says no, I’ll have the whole month off before the US Grand Prix. Plenty of time to move on, right? It’s perfect. No awkward run-ins at the paddock, no weirdness during the races, just time to get over it.”
Oscar leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, smirking as he listened to Lando’s outrageously insane logic. “You do realize that even if you have a month off, you’ll still see her at the US Grand Prix, right?”
Lando blinked, his confidence faltering for a moment. “Well…yeah, but that’s like, way down the line! By then, things will have settled.”
Oscar snorted. “Or you’ll just be dragging it out longer, and it’ll be just as awkward when you see her at the US GP as it would be anywhere else. Let’s also not forget, she’s Fernando’s daughter, no way can you just avoid her.”
Lando’s shoulders slumped slightly, but he quickly straightened up again, determined to defend his plan. “Nah mate, it’ll be fine. If she says no, I’ll have a whole month to, like…recalibrate. By the time the US GP rolls around, I’ll be good. Plus, Singapore has always been special to her. She lived there, went to university there—it’s got sentimental value. It’s a good place to ask.”
Oscar sighed, shaking his head. “Mate, honestly, that is the worst logic I’ve ever heard. You’re going to see her whether she rejects you or not. A month isn’t going to magically make it less awkward.”
“Yes, but—” Lando tried to defend himself, but Oscar cuts him off.
“No, seriously. Just because there’s a break between races doesn’t mean your feelings are going to magically disappear in four weeks. You’ll have to see her, you’ll still have to deal with it. You’re not just going to poof get over it because the calendar says so.”
Lando opened his mouth, then closed it, frowning. “Okay, fine, maybe it’s not the best plan, but it’s the only one I’ve got! What else am I supposed to do?”
“How about this,” Oscar said, leaning forward, his tone dead serious. “Ask her out because you like her, not because you’re trying to time your emotional recovery between races. You’re just over complicating everything, man.”
Lando groaned, running a hand through his hair. “But what if she says no?” Oscar gave him a deadpan look. “And if she says yes?”
What Oscar said definitely threw Lando for a loop. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, if she says yes, what’s the point of your ‘one month to move on’ plan? You’ll see her even more. Mate, you’ll have to be ready for things to go somewhere, especially with her dad around.”
Lando rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous laugh escaping him. “Yeah, but—well, I mean, that would be the ideal situation, right? If she says yes, then great! No need for a break, and she and I can ride off into the sunset.”
Oscar sighed, clearly amused but trying to help his friend make sense of things while he himself is currently on his wits end. “Look, I’m just saying your logic is a bit off. If you like her, just ask her out. Whether it’s in Singapore or the US or wherever, the outcome will all be the same. You either take a chance or keep overthinking it.”
Lando sighed dramatically, plopping down in the chair next to Oscar. “I know, I know. It’s just…I want it to be perfect, you know? I’ve liked her for a while, and it feels like I’ve only got one shot at this. As the wise words of Eminem and I quote, ‘you only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow, this opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo.’”
“Can’t believe that you really quoted Eminem,” Oscar laughed, though he couldn’t resist teasing him. “You’ve already got a shot, mate. She talks to you, she remembers you, and you’re the only one who keeps making excuses.”
Lando groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Fine, okay. Singapore it is. But if I get rejected, you’re the one driving me to the airport.” Oscar laughed, patting Lando on the back. “Deal. But if she says yes, you owe me free dinners until the end of the season.”
“What?! That’s insane!” Oscar rolled his eyes, but gave a small smile, “it’s enough to cover as a compensation for what you had put me through. Driving me insane with your crazy ass.”
“Alright, fine! Deal.” Oscar grinned, “that’s more like it! Now shake on it.” He held out his hand for Lando to shake, to seal the deal that they had made.
“Now, don’t you chicken out, or else I’m really telling Fernando myself.” Lando shot him a glare. “You wouldn’t!”
“Try me.” Oscar said with a smirk.
Despite Oscar’s teasing, Lando knew he was right. Whether or not the timing was ideal, he has to shoot his shot with you. Singapore was coming up fast, and with it, the moment of truth. He just hoped that whatever the outcome of everything, he wouldn’t end up regretting it—because, at the end of the day, you were definitely worth the risk.
SINGAPORE
The Singapore Grand Prix had finally arrived, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement and comfort being back in the place you now considered as your second home. The familiar street, the warm tropical breeze, and the breathtaking skyline that always felt like a protective shield—all of it made you feel grounded. However, this year felt different though. You are here with your father, Fernando, but now you are grown, with your own life in Singapore. A part of you wanted to stay here permanently, and you knew that this kind of conversation with your father was coming.
You had also flown back to Singapore a little bit earlier than Fernando, so right after the race in Baku, you flew back to Singapore, and you would just meet up with him once he arrived. You made plans with some old university friends for a brunch date, and it had been very refreshing, catching up with familiar faces and feeling part of the city again, laughing over stories of your time during your undergraduate days and just listening to their life updates.
It was Tuesday when Fernando arrived in Singapore, and it felt like a reunion, even though you had been apart for a short period of time. You met him at the hotel he was staying in, and the moment you saw him, a gentle warmth spread through your chest.
“Papa!” You called, rushing to give him a big hug. He enveloped you in a tight hug, lifting you off your feet for a moment. “It’s so good to see you!”
“Good to see you too, mi pequeño campeón,” he replied, a proud smile on his face.
Despite the happiness you were currently feeling, the upcoming conversation with your father about your future was creeping at the back of your mind. You wanted to properly talk to him about staying in Singapore permanently, though you knew it wouldn’t be easy. The bond between you and your father had always been strong, and you didn’t want him to think that you were drifting away, especially that you’re the only one he has. After all, you were still his daughter, and no matter where you were in the world, that wouldn’t change.
“You’ve grown up so much,” Fernando said with a proud smile on his face as you walked through the bustling streets, the sounds of the city surrounding you. “It feels like just yesterday you were running around the house in your diapers and wearing your underwear in your head.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the memory.
“Yeah, well, I’m all grown up now,” you replied, playfully nudging him. “But I’m really happy to be spending the time with you, Papa.”
You walked through the bustling streets, visited the Garden by the Bay, and took him to Sentosa, where you went to Universal Studios and rode the famous cable car. It felt good, just like the old times, where it was just you and him, with no race schedules or media obligations pulling him away.
As you strolled through the bustling hawker centers, savoring the delicious local food, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you, and with Fernando seeing you order the food you wanted to eat, he can perfectly see how you fit right in this kind of environment, it was like as if your were a true local. It made him happy to see that you are happy, comfortable, and content with the country that you were living in for the past years. Right after a satisfying dinner at the hawker centers, you decided to stroll at a park, and sat down at a bench, watching the Singaporean skyline.
“Papa, can we talk about something serious?” You said, glancing at him.
“Of course, mi vida,” he replied, leaning back comfortably on the bench, his expression turning earnest. “What’s in that little mind of yours?”
You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. “I’ve been thinking a lot…about staying here in Singapore. I love it here, and I want to pursue my masters degree and build my career. I know it’s a big decision, but…I really feel at home here, Papa.”
He turned to you, his expression soft but curious. “I figured as much. You’ve always seemed at peace here,” he said with a smile, though there was a flicker of emotions in his eyes. “But does this mean you won’t be coming to visit me anymore? I’ll miss you, you know.”
You smile gently. “Of course I’ll visit you! I’m not disappearing, I promise. It’s just…I feel like I’ve found my place here. But you’ll always be my home too, no matter where you are.”
Fernando nodded, his arm draping over your shoulders. “As long as you’re happy, safe, and chasing your dreams, I will always support you. Just don’t forget to visit your old man, alright?” You leaned into him, grateful for his understanding. “I could never forget.”
“However, we’ll need to discuss the logistics and what that means for your studies.” You nodded, “of course! I’ll figure everything out.”
There was a pause, a comfortable silence that stretched between you, but you knew there was something else you needed to come clean about. Something more personal and had been on your mind for a while now. As much as it makes you nervous, you trust your father enough to talk about it.
“Papa, there’s something else I need to tell you,” you said, your voice quieter now. Fernando turned his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. “What is it?”
You took a deep breath, fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. “It’s about Lando.”
That got his attention. Fernando looked at you more intently, a mixture of surprise and curiosity crossing his face. “Lando? What about him?” You bit your lip, feeling your heart rate pick up. “I—I think I like him. It’s not just a silly crush anymore. It’s something more.”
For a moment, Fernando didn’t say anything, his face was unreadable as he processed what you had just said. You braced yourself, really unsure of how he would react. Would he be overprotective? Would he laugh? Or would he be mad? You couldn’t really tell.
But then, he sighed, his expression softening as he just smiled at you. “I had a feeling,” he said, surprising you. “You…did?” You asked, blinking.
Fernando chuckled. “Soy tu padre, mi amor. I always notice these kinds of things, and I have seen the way Lando looks at you too.” He shook his head slightly. “I just didn’t think it had gotten this serious.”
“It’s not serious, serious. But I can tell that it’s more than just a crush,” you admitted, feeling relieved that he wasn’t upset. “I don’t know if he feels the same way, but I want to be honest with you, I don’t like hiding things from you. You’re my Papa, and I wanted you to know.”
Fernando sighed, pulling you closer. “I appreciate that you told me, princesa. I trust you to make your own decisions, just…if things ever get too difficult, or if you need advice, don’t hesitate to come to me. Lando’s a good kid, but relationships are never easy, especially in this kind of world. But no matter what happens, I’m going to be always here for you.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand resting comfortingly on your shoulder.
You smiled, your heart feeling lighter now that you had told him the truth. “I will. Thank you, Papa.”
Fernando chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “You know, it’s hard to keep up with you sometimes. One moment you’re my little girl, and the next you’re talking about pursuing a career and potentially dating a race car driver.”
You laughed, feeling a mix of relief and warmth. “I guess I’m just growing up. But you know that I’ll always be your little girl, Papa.”
“Well, if Lando makes you happy, I don’t see why you shouldn’t explore that,” he said, his tone softening. “Just be careful, okay? You know how the media can be, and I want you to be safe.”
“Of course, Papa. I promise.” You smiled at him.
As you sat there at the bench with your father, the weight of the conversation lifted, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. You didn’t know what would happen with Lando, but you knew you had the support of the one person who mattered most—your father, and for now, that was enough.
The atmosphere inside the Aston Martin garage was buzzing with the pre-race tension as you stood by, watching your father make his final preparations. Fernando will be starting in P7, and while you had been through countless races with him, the familiar knot of nerves still twisted in your stomach. You couldn’t help it—racing was unpredictable, and no matter how many times you had seen your father take on a track, you would always be worried. Just before he climbed into the car, you walked over and wrapped your arms around Fernando, squeezing him tightly.
“Good luck, Papa,” you whispered, your voice slightly muffled against his racing suit.
Fernando returned the hug, holding you for a moment longer than usual. “I’ll be fine, cariño,” he assured you, pulling back to smile at you with that calm, reassuring look he always gave before a race. “Just keep your eyes on the screen, and remember, I’ll be coming back to you after this.”
You nodded, managing a small smile despite the nervousness you’re feeling. “I know. But still, just be careful out there, okay?”
“Always,” he promised, giving you a smile before heading toward his car. You watched as he climbed in, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline that always hit just before the lights went out.
As the race began, you settled into the garage, your eyes darting between the live feed of your father’s car and, admittedly, a certain McLaren that had started from pole position. Lando. You weren’t sure why, but every time he appeared on the screen, your heart would always skip a beat.
Lando had an incredible start, holding his position from the first corner. You watched as lap after lap, Lando built a commanding 20-second gap over Max, pushing through the relentless humidity of Singapore. It was clear by the midway point that he had the race in the bag, and that didn’t stop you from feeling a strange mix of pride and nervous energy for him too.
Fernando, on the other hand, was fighting a tough race. It wasn’t easy, but you knew he’d give it everything he had, like he always does. When the checkered flag finally waved, Lando crossed the line first, successfully claiming his third win of the season. Max came in second, and Oscar rounded out the podium in third, making it a double podium for McLaren, while Fernando finished on P8. You exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding, relieved that the race was finally over and that both Lando and your father had finished safely.
You waited for Fernando to make his way back to the garage, you couldn’t help but feel a small flutter in your chest. Lando had won, and while you were genuinely happy for him, you were also unsure of what to do next. Should you congratulate him? Would he even have time for you amidst the celebrations?
When your father finally walked into the garage, you rushed over to him, wrapping your arms around him again. “P8! That’s great, Papa!” You beamed, knowing it had been a tough race.
Fernando chuckled softly, patting your back. “Not bad for your old man, huh? It was a bit of a struggle out there, but I’m happy with it.” You pulled back and looked up at him, the warmth of post-race moments settling between you. “I’m just glad you’re okay. Singapore can be brutal.”
He nodded in agreement, wiping sweat from his forehead with a towel. “You’re right about that. The heat doesn’t make it any easier.”
The two of you just stood there, catching your breath, Fernando gave you a knowing look. “So…you’re not going to congratulate Lando?”
Your eyes widened slightly, caught off guard. “Uh, well…I mean, I was going to, but I thought he’d be busy celebrating, you know…podiums, interviews, all that.”
Fernando raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, come on. He just won the Singapore Grand Prix, I’m sure he’d appreciate hearing it from you, you know.”
“I know, but…I don’t want to interrupt. It’s his moment,” you said, shifting on your feet, feeling unsure of yourself.
Your father shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re always so thoughtful, but you should give yourself more credit, cariño. He’s not going to mind talking to you, even if he’s celebrating.” You sighed, half-laughing. “I’ll think about it. Maybe later, if we bump into each other.”
Fernando put an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both watched the scene unfolding by the McLaren garage from the distance. “You’re overthinking it, as usual. Just trust yourself. Lando’s a good kid—and he likes you too, you know.”
Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, surprised by his comment. “What do you mean by that?” He just gave you a knowing smile. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I might be your Papa, but I’m not blind.”
You felt your cheeks heat up, looking away to hide your embarrassment. “Papa!” He just laughed at you, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I’m just saying, hija. Don’t be so nervous, and if you do talk to him tonight, just be yourself. That’s all that matters.”
You leaned into him, grateful for his constant support. “Thanks, Papa. I’ll try not to overthink it too much.”
“Good. Remember, if he gives you any trouble, I’ll have a word with him,” Fernando teased, though you knew very well that he wasn’t entirely joking. You laughed, shaking your head. “I think I can handle it.”
“That’s my girl.” He said, ruffling your hair playfully before letting go.
It was late by the time you and Fernando finally left the paddock. The post-race chaos had kept you there far longer than you expected—interviews, debriefings, team meetings, but you didn’t mind too much. As the two of you exited the Aston Martin motorhome, you were feeling tired, but the evening breeze helped clear your mind, cooling your nerves after the long day.
You and Fernando walked side by side, heading towards the parking lot, and you were mentally replaying the events of the day. You both feel relieved and happy that your father had finished the race safely, but at the same time, your thoughts kept drifting back to Lando. The memory of him winning the race, standing on the top step of the podium—it had all been imprinted in your mind. You still hadn’t congratulated him, and now, the internal debate was in full force.
Just as you and Fernando reached the parking lot, you spotted Lando. He was about to leave as well, freshly showered and looking relaxed, though the sight of him made your heart race all over again. The internal conflict within you wasn’t exactly that subtle—your hesitation must have been really visible, because Fernando glanced at you but chose not to say anything, giving you space to decide.
Right before you could make up your mind, Lando had noticed you. His eyes lit up as he called your name, voice breaking through your thoughts.
“Hey!”
You froze for a second, then offered him a shy smile. Before you could even form a proper response, Lando began walking over to you, his expression bright and boyish. Your nerves kicking into high gear, and for a brief moment, you wished you had more time to properly collect yourself. But Fernando, always one to notice, just smiled and took your handbag from your hand.
“I’ll be waiting in the car,” he said, tone light and teasing as he glanced between you and Lando. “Take your time.” With that, he left, giving you an encouraging wink as he walked away. Now, it was just you and Lando.
The moment felt heavier than what you had expected, both of you standing there in the dimly lit parking lot, nerves getting the better of you. You could feel your palms starting to sweat, unsure of how to start a conversation. But Lando, surprisingly, seemed just as equally nervous as you, rubbing the back of his neck and shifting on his feet awkwardly.
“So…uhm, congrats on the win,” you blurted out, your voice a bit quieter than what you had intended. “You were amazing out there.”
Lando’s eyes softened, his grin widening at your words. “Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you.” He paused, as if debating his next move. Then, in one breath, he blurted out, “Do you want to go out with me? Like, on an actual date?”
The question hung in the air for a second longer than it should have, and you blinked, too stunned to even respond right away. Did you hear that right? Did Lando Norris just actually ask you out on a date? Your mind raced, trying to process the suddenness of it all. Lando’s expression faltered slightly at your silence, his cheeks turning pink as he took a step back, clearly assuming the worst.
“Oh, uh…you don’t have to answer right away if you don’t want to. I mean, it’s totally fine if you’re not interested—”
“No, no! I mean yes! I mean—” you are fumbling, trying to get the right words out, waving your hands in front of you. “I’m not saying no. I just…I didn’t expect you to ask, that’s all. I—” you stopped yourself, realizing that you were rambling and it’s sounding so ridiculous and embarrassing. “Of course I’d love to go out with you.” You said finally, voice more even now.
Lando’s face brightened instantly, his nervousness giving way to a wide grin. “Really? You would?”
“Yeah,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’ve kind of…liked you for a while now. I just didn’t think you felt the same.”
Lando laughed, a light, relieved sound. “Are you kidding? I’ve been wanting to ask you since…well, since forever, really. I just wasn’t sure if you’d say yes.” He scratched the back of his head, expression sheepish. “I thought your dad might…you know, run me off track or something.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, your nerves slowly starting to melt away. “He might, but I think he likes you, so you’re safe. Don’t worry.”
He chuckled, visibly more at ease now that the awkwardness had passed. Then, he hesitated, his expression turning curious. “So, are you staying here in Singapore after the race? Or are you going to be with your dad during the break?”
“I’m staying for a week,” you explained, feeling more comfortable now. “I’ve got some things I need to work on here, but after that, I’m heading off to St. Moritz with Papa. We’re going to spend some time there before the next race.”
His eyes lit up with a hopeful look. “Do you think we could…maybe squeeze in our date before you leave? I mean, if you’re not too busy.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the idea, and you nodded, a soft smile forming on your lips. “Yeah, I think we can definitely make that work.”
“Great! I’ll figure something out and text you, then.” Lando grinned, looking as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
As you both stood there, a comfortable silence settling between you, Lando glanced towards the car where Fernando was waiting and then back at you.
“Come on, I’ll walk you to your dad’s car before he thinks I’m keeping you hostage.” You laughed softly and replied, “He’s probably watching us from the rearview mirror right now.”
He fell into step beside you, his hand grazing yours for a moment before he hesitated, unsure if he should take your hand with his or not. The gesture was so innocent, so sweet, that without thinking, you reached out and took Lando’s hand in yours, giving it a light squeeze.
When you reached the car, he paused, giving you one last, nervous smile. “So, I’ll see you soon?”
“Yeah, definitely.” You replied, feeling a little giddy now.
Lando looked at you with a soft smile, and before you started overthinking again, you leaned in and pressed a quick, gentle kiss to his cheek. The move surprised even you—you had no idea where you got the confinement all of the sudden, but it felt right.
“Goodnight, Lando.” You said softly and smiled at him, “Goodnight.” He replied back shyly.
You climbed into the car as he walked away, you swear you saw him cheering with himself as his figure disappeared into the night.
Fernando glanced at you, a knowing smile on his face. “So, how did it go?” You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “It went fine, Papa. Really fine.”
“Fine, huh?” He chuckled, shifting the car into gear. “Looks like it was more than just fine to me.”
You laughed softly, settling into the passenger seat as the car pulled away from the paddock, your thoughts still on Lando and your upcoming date.
The evening air in Singapore was warm and soft, carrying the sounds of the city as you walked beside Lando through the quieter streets. It has been an eventful week for you, but you were happy that your date with Lando had finally happened. Your date had been more than what you could have hoped for. He had picked you up from your apartment earlier in the evening, and you had taken on the role of his guide, showing him the city like a true local—taking him to places that tourists rarely visited. The city was your second home, and it felt special to be sharing it with him, especially since he’d only known it through the brief lens of race weekends.
Lando seemed eager to soak it all in. “So, where to first?” He asked, glancing over at you with a smile as you walked side by side with your hands intertwined.
“You’ll see,” you teased, knowing he’d enjoy the places you had in mind.
You had decided to take him to the quieter parts of the city—away from the tourist crowds and into the hidden corners where you had spent most of your time. You led him through the winding streets, showing him local markets, narrow alleyways adorned with colorful murals, and cozy cafés that are tucked between old buildings.
“This is incredible,” Lando said after a while, his voice full of admiration as he looked around. “I had no idea Singapore had all these little spots.”
“Well, it’s different when you’re not here just for the race,” you replied, smiling softly. “I love it here. It’s home.”
Eventually, you brought him to one of your favorite places—a small, family-run restaurant hidden away from the bustling city, where you had frequented during your college days. The smell of home-cooked food wafted through the air as you approached, and a warmth spread through you as you saw the familiar faces of the elderly couple who owned the place.
“Ah, you’re back!” The old man greeted you with a wide smile, coming around the counter to hug you. “It’s been too long, my dear. How have you been?”
“I’m good,” you said, hugging him back. “This is Lando, by the way.”
Lando smiled and offered his hand, but the old man pulled him into a friendly hug instead. “Welcome! Any friend of hers is always welcome here.”
The woman joined her husband, her eyes twinkling as she looked you over. “You’ve brought someone special this time, I see,” she said softly, her tone playful.
You felt your cheeks flush slightly, but Lando laughed, giving you a teasing look. “She’s showing me all of the best spots in the city.”
The couple fussed over the two of you, bringing out plates of food that smelled and tasted like comfort, making sure that the two of you are comfortable and well-fed. The conversation flowed easily, with Lando making both of them laugh with his stories. It was nice—being there with him, surrounded by people who cared for you like family. After the meal, you thanked the couple, promising to visit again once you’re back in Singapore. They handed out a takeout bag for each of you, containing one of their desserts that you loved very much.
“Take care of her, young man,” the old woman said, patting Lando’s arm as you both stood to leave.
“I will,” Lando promised, voice soft but sincere.
It was already past ten in the evening, and the city lights are casting a gentle glow around you. Streets were peaceful, and the warmth of the evening breeze made the city feel even more intimate. Only the sound of your footsteps can be heard on the pavement as you and Lando strolled side by side.
“I still can’t believe I’ve never seen this side of Singapore before,” Lando said, his voice warm with admiration. You smiled, glancing up at him. “I guess it helps when you have a local guide. There’s so much more to Singapore than just the Marina Bay and the usual tourist spots.”
“I’m starting to see that,” he said with a soft chuckle. “And I like it.”
For a moment, the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the night around you quiet and serene. There was something so comforting about being with Lando like this—no cameras or media, just the two of you walking through a city you loved. The ease of it all made your heart swell with affection.
As you reached a small park, Lando slowed his pace, glancing at you with a thoughtful look in his eyes. You smiled, remembering your father’s request.
“Oh, right! I almost forgot, before Papa left Singapore, he asked me to extend the invitation to you. He wants you to join us in St. Moritz for the break. He said he would like to get to know you better, outside of racing. Only if you’re not too busy.”
Lando raised his eyebrows in surprise, then grinned. “Really? He actually said that?” You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly. “Yeah, he did. He’s a bit overprotective, but he likes you.”
Lando laughed softly. “Well, that’s a relief. I was kind of worried he’d be ready to send me into a wall or something.”
You shook your head, laughing with him. “No, I think you’re safe. He just wants to make sure I’m okay.”
Lando’s expression softened as he looked at you. “I get that. I really would love to go to St. Moritz with you. It sounds…nice. Meeting your family, spending time with you.” He paused for a moment, then added, “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page about…us.”
Your heart raced at the shift in the conversation. You had known this topic would come up eventually, and now that it had, you felt a mix of excitement and nerves.
“You mean…our relationship?” You asked softly.
Lando nodded, his gaze steady. “Yeah. I really like you—a lot, and I want this to work, but I also know that it won’t be easy. You’re living in Singapore permanently, and I’m always traveling for races. It’ll be a long distance.”
“I know. I’ve thought about it too. I’m planning to stay here, especially since I’m going to start my masters at the end of the season. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do, and Singapore is home now.” You sighed, feeling a knot form in your chest.
He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I get that, and I would never want to get in the way of your plans. But we’ll make it work, right? I mean, we have to try.”
“Yeah, we’ll try. It’s not going to be easy, but if we both want this, we can make it work.” You smiled softly, feeling a sense of comfort settle over you.
“Exactly. You know, it’s not like I won’t ever see you. We can visit each other during breaks, and I’ll be in Singapore for races. Plus, there’s always the off-season.” He smiled at you.
You laughed, feeling lighter now that the conversation had been laid out so openly. “True. I’ll visit you too in Monaco when I can. It’s just going to take some balancing.”
“Yeah, but I think we can handle that,” he said confidently. “Besides, it’ll be worth it.”
“You’re right. It’ll be worth it.” He stepped closer, grabbing your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“You don’t have to worry about anything. We’ll figure everything out together.” Lando brought your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “I don’t want to lose this, lose you. If that means I have to fly halfway around the world to see you, I will.”
In that moment, you knew you felt the same. You didn’t want to lose this either—whatever it was that had sparked between you two. Maybe it was new, maybe it was fragile, but it was real, and you were both willing to fight for it.
“Yep.” You smiled up at him. “And in the meantime, we’ve got St. Moritz. So, will you come?”
Lando grinned, pulling you into a playful hug. “Try and stop me.”
You laughed as he twirled you in the quiet street, your heart feeling lighter than it had been in a long time. You both walked back toward his car, hand in hand, the future didn’t seem so daunting anymore.
ST. MORITZ
The flight to St. Moritz was filled with quiet excitement. You and Lando had spent most of the time talking about everything and nothing, enjoying each other’s company without the rush of the race weekend hanging over you. It felt peaceful, like a little bubble where the outside world didn’t matter. But as you began to descend into the Swiss Alps, your nerves started to pick up again, especially knowing that this trip would bring Lando one step closer to your family.
When you both arrived at the chalet, the crisp mountain air filled your lungs, and you felt an immediate sense of calm. Waiting outside the chalet was your father, along with your grandparents, who waved warmly as you and Lando got out of the car. Fernando greeted you first, pulling you into a tight hug. Then he turned to Lando, giving him a welcoming hug too, but there was a knowing look in your father’s eyes.
Lando smiled, trying to hide the bit of nerves you knew he must be feeling. “Good to see you again, Fernando.” Lando said.
“Good to see you too, Lando. Glad you can make it, and welcome to the family vacation.” Fernando replied, clapping him on the back before gesturing for you both to come inside.
You were quickly enveloped in the warmth of the chalet, and your grandparents greeted you with smiles, your grandmother pulling you into a soft embrace.
“Look at you, mi hija,” she cooed, brushing some hair out of your face. “How are you? And what have you been up to in Singapore?”
You smiled warmly. “I’m doing great, Grandma. Just finished my degree and I’m now working on settling down in Singapore. I’ve got my plans for my masters lined up.”
“¡Oh, nuestra hermosa y inteligente chica! Siempre haciéndonos orgullosos.” Your grandmother beamed proudly, as your grandfather gave a nod of approval, his eyes twinkling as he looked over at Lando, who stood patiently beside you. “And who’s this fine young man?” He asked, his tone playful but curious.
You introduced Lando to them, feeling a blush creep up on your cheeks. “This is Lando, Grandpa. He’s a driver too in Formula 1, just like Papa. We’ve…gotten close recently.”
Lando offered a polite smile, shaking your grandfather’s hand and exchanging greetings with your grandmother. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”
Dinner was a lively affair, filled with laughter, light banter, and plenty of teasing. Fernando, as you expected, couldn’t resist throwing in a few playful jabs at Lando, especially whenever the conversation turned towards racing. Your grandparents, however, were more interested in hearing about how Lando and you had met, gently nudging the conversation toward stories about the two of you.
“So, Lando,” your grandmother began, her eyes sparkling with mischief, “do you plan on visiting Singapore often? You know, to keep this one company.”
Lando grinned, glancing at you before answering. “As often as I can. I’ve already promised her that I’ll make the long flights.” Your grandfather chuckled, patting Lando on the shoulder. “Good man.”
After dinner, you and Lando lingered in the living room, soaking in the warmth of the fire while your grandparents shared stories with Fernando. It felt comfortable, like a real family gathering, and you could tell that Lando was starting to relax, even under the weight of the situation. Eventually, Lando turned to you, his expression a little more serious but still soft.
“I think I’ll be joining your dad and grandfather for a drink,” he said, his eyes betraying a hint of nerves.
You knew exactly what that meant—a talk. The one where Fernando and your grandfather would grill Lando just enough to make sure he had good intentions, but also bond with him in the way only family could. You smiled reassuringly at him. You knew your father and grandfather weren't going to scare him off—they just wanted to make sure that Lando understood the importance of looking after you.
“Good luck. They’ll go easy on you, I think.” Lando let out a small laugh, standing up and leaning down to give you a quick, comforting kiss on the cheeks. “I’ll survive.”
As Lando, Fernando, and your grandfather settled into a more private part of the chalet, you stayed behind with your grandmother, who started making tea and fussing over the details of dinner, especially the topic of you and Lando. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit nervous for Lando, but you trust your father. Even though he could be overprotective, he just wanted the best for you, and it was obvious that he saw potential in Lando—enough to invite him to St. Moritz.
Meanwhile, in the other room, your father and grandfather wasted nontime diving into their questions.
“Lando,” your grandfather began, his tone warm but firm. “Tell me more about yourself. What do you like to do outside of racing? What kind of man are you, really?”
Lando smiled nervously, but answered honestly. “Well, I enjoy a lot of things—gaming, playing golf when I can, running my own company, but mostly just spending time with friends and family. Outside of racing, I try to keep my life simple. But…I think I’m just someone who’s passionate about what I do and the people I care about.”
Fernando nodded, sipping his drink slowly. “And my daughter? How serious are you about her?” His voice was calm, but the weight of the question hung in the air.
Lando didn’t falter, he glanced toward the door as if picturing you on the other side before he spoke. “I’m very serious about her. I’ve liked her for a long time, and I know it’s still new, but I’m willing to put in the work to make it last. I care about her a lot, and I respect her decisions, her life in Singapore, everything.”
Your grandfather exchanged a glance with Fernando before leaning back in his chair. “She’s settled in Singapore, and you’re constantly traveling. Long distance relationships aren’t for the faint of heart.” he said thoughtfully.
“I do understand,” Lando replied earnestly, meeting both of their gazes head-on. “And I’ve thought about that a lot. I know it’ll be challenging, but I’m willing to make it work. She means a lot to me, and I don’t want to let the distance be the thing that keeps us apart.”
Your grandfather nodded thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair. “That’s good to hear,” he said for a moment. “We’ve always wanted the best for her, and if you’re willing to put in the effort, that says a lot about the kind of man you are.”
Fernando didn’t say much after that, but you knew he was taking everything in, assessing the way Lando spoke about you, he just smiled widely at him. It was clear that he appreciated Lando’s honesty and sincerity, he just wanted what's best for his only daughter—which is his whole world. But as a father, he would always be protective of you.
After the conversation wound down, Lando returned to your side, visibly relieved but still wearing that charming smile oh his, and putting an arm around you as he sat beside you on the couch. You raised an eyebrow as he sat beside you.
“Hey, how did it go?” You asked, intertwining your hand with his over your shoulder, half-teasing but genuinely curious.
Lando exhaled, running a hand through his hair with his free hand. “Well, let’s just say that your dad and grandfather aren’t easily won over,” he said with a grin. “But I think I passed.”
“I had no doubt you would.” You laughed softly, leaning into his chest.
The night wound down and the chalet grew quieter, you found yourself sitting with Lando by the fire, the two of you are wrapped in a comfortable silence. The warmth of the fire and the steady rhythm of his breathing next to you made everything feel perfect. St. Moritz had a way of making everything feel more peaceful, and with Lando by your side, you knew this was just the beginning of something special.
fernandoalo_oficial
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fernandoalo_oficial Vacaciones! Decided to take the kids skiing 😁🏂❄️
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sebastianvettel is that little alonso? she’s all grown up now! i remember when she was still too shy to even say hello. time flies!
fernandoalo_oficial she’s still shy 😁 and she’s already catching up to me!
user1 kidS? hmmm
user2 last time i remember, fernando only has 1 kid 🤨🤨🤨🤨
jensonbutton little alonso! i remember when she used to hide behind you in the paddock! look at her now!
fernandoalo_oficial she still does! 😂
aussiegrit you’re making us feel old, mate! lovely to see you two enjoying St. Moritz.
fernandoalo_oficial ❤️
user3 we need little alonso on instagram!! 😩
fernandoalo_oficial she’s a social hermit, good luck convincing her to be on any social media 😂
user3 OHMGYGSKD I LOVE YOU!!
user4 nando out here calling his own daughter social hermit HEUHFJENDNX I CANT
user5 imagine if little alonso has her own instagram, there would be world peace
user6 omg i KNOW! we all know that her instagram feed will be so gorgeous and aesthetic
user5 but we still love our social hermit queen, even if she’s not chronically online 💔
user6 always getting our little alonso crumbs from fernando himself
user7 little alonso crumbs LESGOOOO
user8 when is she joining social media? we need to know more about her!
fernandoalo_oficial she’s a social hermit, trust me, not happening anytime soon 😂
user8 OMFHFEHJDJSJSJS
user9 LITTLE ALONSO!!! 😭😭😭😭 we used to pray for times like this
landonorris posted a story!
liked by oscarpiastri, georgerussell63, lance_stroll, maxfewtrell, fernandoalo_oficial and others
user10 SIR???? 🤨🤨🤨🤨
user11 did you just yeet ur girl 😭😭😭
oscarpiastri THANK GOD! I’ll be expecting that free dinner soon until the end of season 😁
landonorris yeah yeah smh 🙄
oscarpiastri 😁😁😁
fernandoalo_oficial ❤️
fernandoalo_oficial you take care of her, alright? i trust you 👍🏻
landonorris don’t worry, she’s in good hands!
fernandoalo_oficial good.
lance_stroll i know fernando already gave you the talk, but still wanna say that you take good care of her
landonorris fernando and her grandpa gave me the talk, but don’t worry, i’ll take good care of her
user12 is this what i think it is????
user13 STOP THIS IS ACTUALLY SO CUTE IM GONNA CRY 😭😭😭
landonorris
liked by oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, georgerussell63, lance_stroll and 3,749,837 others
landonorris ⛷️❤️
view all 45,748 comments
user14 STOP IT U GUYS ARE SO CUTE 😭😭😭
user15 lando out here winning sg gp and then having a new girlfriend 😔
oscarpiastri i’ll claim that free dinner until the end of the season ticket, please and a thank you as well
landonorris THANK YOU! 🫵🏻
user16 why can i hear lando’s reply 😭
georgerussell63 i see that you’re getting well acquainted with the family, huh? 👀
landonorris well, what can i say? 🤷🏻♂️
alex_albon so…you really bagged her, huh?
landonorris rizz god. all in a day’s work 😮💨
maxfewtrell you really had to take a photo before helping her…classic lando
landonorris can’t help it, too funny not to
maxfewtrell well, can’t wait to meet her!
landonorris I SWEAR I HELPED RIGHT AFTER THE SELFIE STOP ATTACKING ME 😣😣😣
carlossainz55 taking a selfie first? thought you’d be a gentleman, cabron
landonorris SHUT UP I HELPED OKAY
lance_stroll is that who i think it is? 🤔
landonorris 😁😁😁
pierregasly well well well, norris finally bagged the most elusive catch on the grid 😂
landonorris all thanks to oscarpiastri for giving me the pep talk. my #1 cheerleader 😍
oscarpiastri you guys don’t know the suffering i went through. almost wanted to drive myself up on the wall. better thank me on your wedding speech, i deserve it
user17 HALF OF THE GRID KNOWS WHATS UP!!! LET US IN!!!!
maxverstappen1 oh ho ho ho someone finally grew some spine!
landonorris 🫣🫣🫣
charles_leclerc have you already talked about the garage situation?
landonorris i believe that it’ll be non-negotiable, i’m afraid 😔💔
user17 garage situation??? gARAGE SITUATION??? WHAT WHAT
user18 guys, remember that time ages ago when he was spotted chatting with little alonso? that could be her?
user19 yeah, but she’s a really private person. girlie doesn’t even have socmed accs 😭
user20 that’s a bit of a stretch there
user19 not to mention that’s she’s literally shy by nature
user20 i know who’s also on a ski trip 👀
user21 the alonsos? nah, girlie’s shy af and mostly keep herself away from the spotlight
user20 but didn’t she came back to the paddock this season? could be her yk and lando’s just keeping it lowkey
user22 you guys are all over the place! it could literally just be a friend. RELAX! 😂
user23 not y’all really busting your braincells out there with just this post 😭🫵🏻
user24 CAN THIS PEOPLE GET ANY CUTER??? FIRST THE IG STORY AND NOW THIS???? 😭😭😭
user25 you guys need to stop assuming stuff. that’s literally not little alonso 🤥 she’s a really private person, never seen in public unless she’s with nando. it’s just probably one of lando’s friends…
user26 SPEAK YOUR TRUTH SIS!! people really out here assuming things 🤡
user25 TRUE
user27 i second that. can’t multiple people ski at the same time without connecting all these nonexistent dots together???
user28 if it’s really little alonso…how did he manage to bag nando’s daughter 😭😭😭 this man is playing 4d chess, i swEAR 😭😭😭
More Posts from Abudhabby29-blog and Others
People included: Mika, Angelu, Toyang, Jenina, Karl, Lara, CJ, Ran, Jotham, Darla, Jack, Khaye, Tedd, & Renea.
The level of friendship between these people varies but even though they don’t know it I really do care for them. These are the people who will be for you and make you smile through the pain. I want to know them better because I’ve got a lot to learn from them.
THE OTHER GUY PT.3 | FR43
an: let's go part three! i'm really loving this series, i'm trying to push for 4/5 parts? lmk if there is anything you guys want to see in particular! love you guys <3
part one | part two
ynpiastri
liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 31,475 others
no excuses
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The low hum of the treadmill and the rhythmic clang of weights filled the resort’s gym, but Franco wasn’t paying attention to any of it. His focus was locked on the woman in the corner, working through her routine with laser-like focus.
She didn’t notice him, which was for the best—he wasn’t ready to deal with her sharp tongue or the way she looked at him like he was the villain in her story. But right now, she was different. She didn’t have her guard up, didn’t look like she was ready to tear him apart with another sarcastic comment. She looked… gorgeous.
It wasn’t just the way her ponytail swung as she moved, or the way her tank top clung to her in all the right places. There was something else, something about the determination in her eyes, the way she focused on each rep like the rest of the world didn’t exist. She wasn’t just beautiful—she was fierce. Strong. And, damn, if that didn’t make her even more attractive.
He ran a hand through his hair, leaning against the doorframe, trying to play it cool. Franco knew he shouldn’t be watching her like this, but it was hard to look away. Every time he saw her, something pulled him in, and it was getting harder and harder to pretend it was just because she hated him.
He’d been thinking about her way too much lately. The way she challenged him, never letting him get too close, always keeping him on the edge. And yeah, maybe that was part of the thrill. But now, as he stood there, watching her with sweat glistening on her skin, it wasn’t just about the challenge anymore.
He wanted to ask her out.
The thought hit him like a punch to the gut, and he cursed under his breath. What the hell was he thinking? She couldn’t stand him. She’d made that clear from the start, and asking her out would probably end in her laughing in his face or worse—publicly roasting him on her Instagram for the world to see.
But still… he couldn’t shake the thought. The way she made his heart race, how every word from her lips felt like a dare. He wanted to take that risk, to see if maybe—just maybe—there was something more behind her walls. Something she wasn’t ready to admit.
“Mate, what are you staring at?”
The voice of his friend, Diego, snapped him out of his thoughts. He hadn’t even noticed Diego walking up beside him, his water bottle in hand and a raised eyebrow on his face.
“Nothing,” he muttered, but it was too late. Diego followed his gaze, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Right. Nothing. That’s why you’ve been standing here for a full five minutes staring at her like a lost puppy.”
“Callarse la boca,” (shut up) he grumbled, crossing his arms. “It’s not like that.”
“Sure it’s not.” Diego’s grin widened as he leaned in, lowering his voice. “So, when are you going to ask her out?”
He shot his friend a look. “You’re joking, right? You know how she feels about me. She’d chew me up and spit me out before I even got the words out.”
“Maybe,” Diego admitted, shrugging. “But maybe she wouldn’t. Look, I’m just saying, you’ve been eyeing her for days, and it’s not just because she’s Logan’s best friend and Oscar’s sister. You’re into her.”
“I’m not—”
“Mate, you are.” Diego cut him off, raising his hand. “And here’s the thing: girls like her, the ones that give you a hard time? Half the time, it’s because they’re scared of how much they like you. You know the saying, ‘keep your enemies close’ and all that.”
He shook his head, but deep down, he couldn’t deny Diego’s words were getting to him. Maybe that’s why she was always so sharp with him—because she was scared. Or maybe he was just kidding himself.
“Look, you’ll never know unless you try,” Diego continued, nudging him with his elbow. “What’s the worst that could happen? She shuts you down? You’ve survived worse, need I remind you of your ex?.”
He thought about it for a long moment, his eyes drifting back to her as she moved through her final set. Diego was right—he’d survived worse, and if she shot him down, at least he’d know he tried. And if, somehow, she didn’t… Well, that was a risk worth taking.
“Fine,” Franco said finally, running a hand over his face. “I’ll do it. I’ll ask her out.”
Diego grinned, clapping him on the back. “That’s the spirit! Just be cool, alright? Don’t be the cocky bastard you usually are. You’ve got this.”
He wasn’t so sure about that, but as he took a deep breath and headed toward her, the pounding in his chest wasn’t just from nerves. It was excitement. He was ready for the risk.
francolapinto
liked by williamsracing, carlossainz55, ynpiastri and 984,237 others
keep pushing during the break
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You wiped the sweat from your brow, breathing hard as you finished your last set. The gym was quiet this time of night, just the way you liked it. Fewer people meant fewer distractions—fewer chances of running into Franco.
You shook her head, scolding yourself for even thinking about him. Why was he constantly on your mind? Maybe it was because he seemed to pop up everywhere. The pool, the restaurant, and now—you caught a glimpse of movement in the mirror—the gym.
Your eyes flicked to the reflection. There he was, leaning against the doorway, watching you. You could feel his gaze, the same infuriating, intense look he always gave you, like he was daring you to react. It was infuriating how much he got under your skin, how he was always there, always pushing.
You turned your back to the mirror, trying to pretend you hadn’t seen him, but the knot in your stomach wouldn’t loosen. It wasn’t nerves, not really. It was more complicated than that—a mix of irritation, confusion, and something you refused to name. You weren't about to let him know he’d gotten to you, not when he was probably waiting for you to snap, just so he could make some smug comment.
But he didn’t leave.
You could feel him still there, watching, and it drove you crazy. You could handle the public stuff—the jabs on social media, the press interviews where he dropped some flirty comment about you, like he was trying to bait you. But this… this was different. He wasn’t playing to an audience here. This was just him, watching you like you were the only person in the room.
Your heart pounded, and you hated it. Hated that he had this effect on you.
You took a deep breath, your fingers tightening around the dumbbell in your hand. Maybe if you just ignored him, he’d leave. But then, the unmistakable sound of footsteps moving closer made your grip tighten even more. He wasn’t leaving. Of course he wasn’t.
"Hey," his voice cut through the air, smooth and casual, like he hadn’t been staring at you for who knew how long.
You straightened up, wiping your palms on your leggings before turning around, schooling your face into a mask of indifference. You weren't going to let him see any weakness.
“What do you want?” you asked, your tone sharper than youintended.
He hesitated for a second, almost like he wasn’t sure what to say. That was a first. Usually, he had some cocky remarks locked and loaded. But tonight, there was something different in his eyes. A vulnerability that threw you off guard.
“I was just… wondering if you wanted to grab a drink or something,” he said, the confidence in his voice wavering just enough for you to notice.
A drink?
You stared at him, completely blindsided. Out of all the things he could have said, that was the last thing you’d expected. Was he seriously asking you out? After all the snark, all the public back-and-forth?
You should say no. You should laugh in his face, tell him to take his ego and leave you alone. It would be the easiest thing in the world to turn him down.
But the words didn’t come.
Instead, you found herself staring at him, taking in the way his usually cocky demeanour had softened. He wasn’t smirking, wasn’t playing some game to get a rise out of you. He was just… asking. And there was something disarming about that.
Your heartbeat quickened, and you hated that, too.
“You’re joking, right?” you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper.
He shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. “No joke. Just thought maybe… we could talk. Outside of all this.”
You could tell he was waiting for the rejection. You could practically feel the tension rolling off him as he braced himself for your inevitable shutdown. But for the first time since you’d met him, you didn’t feel like fighting. She felt… curious.
Why now? Why you?
You crossed your arms, more to steady yourself than anything. “You know I can’t stand you, right?”
His lips twitched in what almost looked like a smile. “Yeah. I’m well aware.”
“And yet you think I’d want to get a drink with you?”
He shrugged, his eyes still holding yours, like he was trying to figure you out. “What can I say? I’m an optimist.”
You wanted to roll her eyes, wanted to laugh in his face, but instead, you found herself biting your lip, considering it. And that was the most frustrating part. Because as much as you hated him, you couldn’t deny there was something between them. Something you couldn’t explain, but it had been simmering beneath the surface from the moment you two had met.
You should say no. You should walk away, like you always did.
But instead, you found herself meeting his gaze head-on, searching his face for any sign of the arrogant playboy you’d convinced yourself he was. But all you saw was sincerity. And that was what made you hesitate.
“Fine,” you said, crossing your arms tighter. “But one wrong word, I’m gone.”
His smile was instant, warm, and more genuine than you’d ever seen. “Deal.”
ynpiastri
liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 31,437 others
alllllcoooolllllhol es muy bueno
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The bar is dimly lit, tucked away in a quiet corner of the resort. Normally, you’d appreciate the calm atmosphere, but tonight, you can’t shake the nervous energy running through you. You don’t know why you agreed to this—sitting across from him, sipping drinks as if you aren’t the same person who publicly can’t stand him.
Franco leaned back in his chair, watching you with that same relaxed expression that always makes your pulse quicken, though you’d never admit it. “So, you’re telling me you’ve never been surfing?” His voice is casual, like this is the most normal conversation in the world.
You shrug, swirling your drink in your hand, trying to act unaffected. “We’re a racing family.”
He grins, eyes never leaving yours. “I’ll have to take you sometime. I bet you’d be a natural.”
That teasing tone, the cocky smile—it should annoy you. It does annoy you. But there’s something different tonight. He’s not playing for an audience, not trying to rile you up like usual. It feels… real. And that’s what unnerves you the most.
“You think I’d take surfing lessons from you? You think I’d voluntarily hang out with you again?” you quip, raising an eyebrow, trying to regain some control over the situation.
“Absolutely. And you’d love every minute of it.”
You roll your eyes, but even as you do, you feel a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. When did this become easy? When did you start enjoying his company?
You take a long sip of your drink, trying to steady yourself. You shouldn’t feel this way. You’re supposed to dislike him. He’s supposed to be the cocky new driver who replaced Logan, the guy you roast on social media. So why is your heart racing?
“Are you okay?” His voice cuts through your thoughts, softer now.
You blink, realising you’ve been staring at the glass in your hand. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you mutter, setting it down.
But he’s still looking at you, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to read your mind. And for the first time, you don’t know if you can hide behind your usual sarcasm. He’s seeing through your defences, and that terrifies you.
“Listen,” he says, his voice low, almost gentle, “if this is weird for you, you can leave. No pressure.”
Your heart skips at the way he says your name, like it means something more than just another person in his world. Vulnerability flashes in his eyes, and you hate that it makes you feel something, something you’ve been trying to ignore.
You’re about to make a snappy comeback, to brush it off like always, but instead, you just sit there, staring at him. The space between you feels too small, the air thick with an unspoken tension.
Then a thought came to the front of your mind, was he going to kiss you?
The thought sends a jolt through your system. You should pull back, say something snarky, shut this down before it goes any further. But you don’t move. And neither does he.
The tension is electric now, crackling between you like a live wire. He leans in, just slightly, enough for you to feel the heat of his presence, and you realise—so do you. You’re leaning in, too. Your heart is racing, your breath shallow. You can feel the moment hanging there, fragile, on the edge of something you’re not sure you’re ready for. You’re ready to blame the alcohol but you hadn’t even finished your first drink.
And then, just as the space between you is about to disappear, a voice shatters the moment like a glass breaking.
“Oh my god Franco! Can I get a selfie with you?”
The interruption hits you like a bucket of cold water. You jerk back, blinking as you realise there’s someone standing beside the table—a girl, wide-eyed and holding up her phone, looking at him like he’s hung the stars and the moon.
He glances at her, clearly surprised, but quickly recovers with that easy charm of his. For a second, the connection between you snaps, and the intensity of the moment is gone.
“Uh, yeah, sure,” he says, smiling at the fan. “Just give me a second.”
You lean back in your seat, trying to get a grip on yourself. Your heart is still racing, and you feel the ghost of what almost happened hanging in the air. You hadn’t realised how close you’d come to crossing that line until the moment was interrupted. And now that it’s gone, you don’t know how to feel. Relieved? Maybe. But there’s a part of you—a part you hate to admit—that’s disappointing.
He turns back to you, his face apologetic, as if he knows exactly what you’re feeling.
“I’ll be right back,” he says softly, standing up to take the photo.
You watch as he poses with the fan, your heart still thudding in your chest. The moment between you lingers in the air, but now, with the interruption, it’s slipping away. And you’re not sure if you want it back or if you’re relieved it’s gone.
imessage between logan and yn
the end.
taglist: @iimplicitt @isaadore @iamred-iamyellow @justheretoreadthxxs @obxstiles @how-what-why-huh @raizelchrysanderoctavius @sainzzreputaticn
comment if you want to be added to the tag lit xx
🥰 lando norris masterlist 🥰
personal faves f contains smut(ty parts) s
✨ Series ✨
s ROOMMATES ; part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six
In which you have to live with your brothers best friend who you really don't like, Lando Norris, and his many 'girlfriends' for a while, but there's always a thin line between love and hate.
f & s MORE THAN FRIENDS (finished) ; part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten / part eleven / part twelve
In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.
s MORE THAN FRIENDS discontinued; part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight
In which your best friend wants to help you so you get more sexual experience, but he discovers quickly that he never wants to share you and your new sexual experience with others.
s HIS TEAMMATE (finished) ; part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten / part eleven / part twelve / part thirteen
In which you find yourself getting closer to your brothers new teammate who's a total dick.
THE RACE LOSER (finished); part one / part two
In which you see your ex best friend again, after he cut off contact between you to because he needed to focus on racing
f & s MISTAKE(S) (finished); part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine
In which you keep making the same mistake over and over again by fucking the boy you hate the most
INTO IT (finished) ; part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten / part eleven
In which you really, really dislike your brothers new found best friend - Lando Norris - but you keep finding your way back to him
f&s FWB (finished) ; part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten / part eleven
In which you decide to become friends with benefits with Lando Norris, that can't be a bad idea right?
THE SISTER (finished) ; part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten
In which your the little sister of Max Verstappen and you meet Lando Norris, who quickly turns in to one of your best friends. But there's a thin line between friends & lovers
f&s BREAKING THE RULES (finished) ; part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven
In which Lando is your brothers rival during the championship, but you can't seem to stay away from him
GOLF (finished) ; part one / part two
In which Lando discovers his jealousy for you while a friendly round of golf
✨ One shots ✨
s Not a chance ; In which Lando thinks he's going to win a race, to which you tell him the chances of you two fucking are as low as him winning a race - so what happens when he wins?
Regret ; In which Lando breaks up with you, but starts to regret it even more when he sees you back on the racetrack. Can he still fix things?
f Fake date ; In which Lando helps you piss of your ex boyfriend by acting like your fake new boyfriend
His masseur ; In which you're Lando his best friend and masseur, but your feelings start to cause a bit of trouble
s Crazy ; in which Lando and you are crazy for each other without knowing it from each other, until Lando loses his temper while seeing you with another
f Date ; in which Lando needs an awful push from his friends to finally ask you out
Afterparty ; in which you and Lando are oblivious idiots & you go to the afterparty with someone else after Lando told you it was no big deal, spoiler: it was a big deal
Little game ; in which you and Lando are fighting, so you decide to test his feelings for you with a little game
Between the Laps
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Driver!Reader Enemies to Friends to...
Summary: When a rookie driver finds herself paired with the reigning champion Max Verstappen, sparks fly. Ambition clashes with undeniable chemistry, as their rivalry and relationship evolves throughout the intense F1 calendar.
Author's Note: Here it is, now just shy of 9k words! This fanfic is significantly longer and more narrative-driven than anything I’ve written on here so far. I really hope you all enjoy it, and I’d greatly appreciate any feedback you might have, thanks!
8.8k words / Masterlist
Race Weekend 1 – Bahrain Grand Prix
The paddock was alive with a low hum of tension and excitement, the air saturated with the distinct scent of burning rubber and gasoline.
You had been here before, in different categories as a rising talent in the motorsport world, but Formula 1 was a whole new arena. Walking through the Red Bull Racing garage you felt the weight of the world pressing down on you. This wasn’t just a race, it was your first F1 race weekend, and to top it off your teammate was none other than Max Verstappen, the reigning World Champion.
Max's reputation preceded him. The fierce competitor, a driver with an almost inhuman ability to push his car beyond the limits, appearing to be in a league of his own. Now he was your teammate or, more realistically, you were his teammate. It was his team, his title on the line, and you were just the rookie fresh to the team and to some extent an uninvited guest in his house.
As you stepped into the garage you caught a glimpse of Max. He was sitting with his usual air of intense concentration, eyes fixed on the telemetry data on his tablet as if he could solve every on-track issue with sheer force of will. His dirty blonde hair peeked out from under his cap. For a moment your eyes met, and a flicker of something passed between you. It wasn’t friendly. A short, curt nod was all he gave you before returning to his data, as if you were a distraction not worth his time.
You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the nerves gnawing at your insides. No one said this would be easy. Max was a World Champion, he didn’t have time for rookies.
Your debut race weekend came at you fast, a blur of press conferences, strategy meetings, and practice sessions. The eyes of the motorsport world were on you, and the pressure was immense. You had qualified a respectable eighth, but Max was on pole. It wasn’t just a gap in pace — it was a chasm. Still, for your first race it wasn’t bad, or at least that’s what you kept telling yourself.
Sunday, and the garage was bustling with energy, staff buzzing around like a well-oiled machine. Everyone knew their place. Everyone except you it seemed.
You were sitting in the team motorhome, staring at your race strategy when Max finally broke the silence between you.
“Nervous?” he asked, though the way he phrased it didn’t leave much room for a simple yes or no. His tone was casual, but his gaze remained laser-focused, almost challenging.
You looked up from your tablet, startled. He hadn’t said more than a few words to you all weekend. “Not particularly,” you replied, keeping your voice even.
Max’s lips quirked into a smirk, but there was no warmth in it. “Good. Nervous drivers make mistakes.”
You raised an eyebrow, unsure if this was advice or a thinly veiled insult. “I’ve been racing a long time Max.”
“This isn’t F2,” he replied smoothly.
“I know how to drive,” you shot back, feeling a flicker of irritation rise up inside you.
Max studied you for a moment as if weighing his next words carefully. “Sure. Just don't get in my way.”
And with that he stood up, grabbing his helmet and walking out of the motorhome without another word. You watched him go, your jaw clenched. He was right this wasn’t F2, but you weren’t going to let him dismiss you like someone who didn’t belong here.
The race itself was brutal. Max dominated from start to finish, winning with the same ruthless efficiency that had earned him the title. Meanwhile, you struggled. The car felt unbalanced, the tyres didn’t last as long as you’d hoped, and you made a few rookie mistakes costing you valuable positions. You finished with just one measly point, a disheartening tenth place.
As you walked back into the garage, still buzzing with the adrenaline of the race you could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on you. Max was already there sitting with his engineers discussing his race. He didn’t acknowledge you, didn’t even glance in your direction.
You slumped into your chair, exhausted and frustrated. Everyone tried to cheer you up telling you it was a good effort for your first race, but the disappointment gnawed at you. You didn’t come here to finish tenth. You wanted to be on the podium, fighting for wins, not languishing in the midfield.
From across the garage, Max’s voice cut through the noise. He was talking to his race engineer, but his words stung as if they were meant directly for you.
“They need to focus on my initial concerns,” he said, his tone casual but firm. “We don’t have time to worry about the rookies issues right now.”
You clenched your fists, the frustration building. It wasn’t just about the race anymore. It was about proving that you belonged here, that you could stand toe-to-toe with him. Max might be the reigning champion, but you weren’t going to let him walk all over you.
Race Weekend 4 - Japanese Grand Prix Qualifying
You stormed into the garage ripping off your helmet in frustration. Your heart was still pounding, not just from the high-speed laps but from the seething anger simmering under your skin. No matter how much you pushed yourself, Max was always one step ahead. The gap felt minimal, fractions of a second, but it might as well have been a canyon.
Max was already there, cool and composed, his pole position nothing out of the ordinary. He was talking with one of the engineers, a slight smirk tugging at his lips like he had already forgotten about the rest of the field. About you.
You could feel your blood boiling. The way he acted so untouchable, so certain of his superiority. Without thinking you marched toward him, your voice sharper than you intended.
"What's your secret Verstappen?" you asked, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Is it the car, or just pure luck?"
Max glanced over his shoulder, his expression unbothered. He raised an eyebrow that infuriating smirk growing. "Luck? Is that what you're going with?"
You crossed your arms, glaring at him. "I’m just trying to figure out how someone so smug manages to stay on top."
He turned to face you fully now, a look of mild amusement playing across his features. "Maybe it's not that complicated. Maybe I’m just better."
The arrogance in his voice was like fuel to the fire, and you took a step closer, your jaw clenched. "Or maybe you’re just used to coasting because no one’s challenged you here. You’re not untouchable, Max."
Max’s smirk faded slightly his blue eyes narrowing as he took a step toward you. "You think you’re the one to change that? Face it, you're good, but you're not there yet. You’re reckless, always pushing too hard. It’s gonna cost you eventually."
His words cut deeper than you expected. They weren’t just taunts they felt like a judgment, like he had already written you off. But you weren’t about to let him get inside your head.
"At least I’m not afraid to take risks," you shot back.
Max’s eyes flashed, and for a moment something darker crossed his face, something serious. "This isn’t a game you know. There’s no room for mistakes here. You’re playing with fire, and if you keep going the way you are you’re going to burn out."
His words hung in the air between you, the tension crackling like static. He wasn’t mocking you anymore, this was something else, something more intense. You didn’t know if he was trying to warn you or challenge you, but either way you weren’t backing down.
"I’d rather burn out than fade away," you said, your voice hard.
Max didn’t reply immediately, but his eyes locked on yours, unblinking. There was something unreadable in his expression, like he was seeing you in a new light, but it was hard to tell if it was respect or frustration.
"Just stay out of my way," he finally said, his voice quiet but charged. Then he turned, walking away, leaving you standing there with your pulse racing and your fists clenched.
You watched him go, the frustration and anger still swirling inside you. He was wrong about you—you weren’t going to burn out. But something about his words stuck with you, lingering long after he’d walked away, like an unwanted echo in the back of your mind.
Race Weekend 6 - Spanish Grand Prix
The race had ended hours ago, but the irritation still churned in your chest. Sitting in the team briefing room, the air between you and Max was thick with tension, as had become the norm. All you could hear was the pounding of your own heart, still replaying the near-collision between you and Max in your head.
Max sat across the table, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. It was like nothing got to him, like the chaos on the track didn’t even phase him. The way he remained so calm, so detached, only made your anger burn hotter.
Most of the engineers finally left the room and the door clicked shut behind them. The silence that followed was suffocating. You couldn’t hold back anymore.
"Next time," you snapped, your voice cutting through the quiet, "try not to run me off the track."
Max didn’t even flinch, he looked at you his expression infuriatingly calm. "You’re exaggerating."
"Exaggerating?" you exclaimed, your voice rising. "You practically forced me off the track at Turn 8! If I hadn’t backed off, we’d have both been out of the race."
Max sighed, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table. "It’s racing. Hard racing. If you can’t handle it, maybe you should reconsider what you’re doing here."
You clenched your fists under the table, every muscle in your body tensing. You knew part of the anger was stemming from knowing there was truth to his words, but you weren't going to admit that anytime soon.
"I can handle hard racing just fine," you shot back. "What I can’t handle is you acting like you’re the only one who deserves to be here. I’m your teammate Max, not your punching bag."
Max’s eyes darkened, and for the first time, you saw something else behind his cool exterior—annoyance, maybe even anger. "Teammate?" he repeated, his voice colder now. "You don’t act like one. You drive like you’re the only person on the track."
You laughed bitterly, unable to hold it in. "That’s rich, coming from you. You’ve spent this whole season so far treating me like I’m not even worth your time. It’s like you can’t stand the idea of someone else being good enough to challenge you."
Max stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. His sudden movement startled you, but you didn’t back down.
"Challenge me?" he said, his voice low but sharp. "This isn’t about some petty rivalry. You’re reckless. You don’t think about the bigger picture. You only care about beating me, and it’s going to get someone hurt—probably you."
His words stung more than you expected. It wasn’t just that he thought you weren’t good enough. It was the way he said it, like he didn’t believe you’d ever be more than a threat to yourself.
"You think I don’t know what I’m doing?" you asked, your voice shaking with anger now. "You think I’m just some rookie who’s out of their depth?"
Max didn’t answer right away. He just stood there staring at you with those piercing blue eyes, like he was trying to figure you out but couldn’t. The silence stretched on heavy and suffocating.
Then, finally, he spoke. "I think you’re talented," he admitted, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. "But you let your emotions get the better of you. You take unnecessary risks because you’re trying to prove something."
His words cut deep, hitting a nerve you hadn’t expected. He wasn’t just criticising your driving anymore, he was questioning you, the way you handled everything. And what stung the most was that part of you feared he might be right.
You stood up, matching his stance refusing to show any weakness. "I don’t need a lecture from you Max. You’re not perfect either."
Max’s jaw tightened, and for a split second, you thought you saw something flicker across his face, hurt? But just as quickly it was gone, replaced by that familiar steely expression.
"Maybe I’m not," he said.
The room felt like it was closing in on you, the air thick with unresolved tension. You wanted to say something, anything, to break through the wall between you, but the anger and frustration clouded your thoughts, you could feel his gaze on your back as you walked out of the room. You slammed the door behind you, the sound echoing down the empty hallway.
Race Weekend 8 – Monaco Grand Prix
You and Max had barely spoken during practice, though the tension was undeniable. He still had that smug look on his face, his confidence oozing off him as you wiped the sweat from your forehead. You could feel your heart beating just a little faster, though you’d never admit it was anything but adrenaline.
As you sat down in the garage, peeling off your gloves, Max passed by.
"Not bad, rookie," he said casually. "Though, I almost expected you to spin out in Turn 4. You were practically kissing the barriers."
You raised an eyebrow, not willing to let him get the better of you. "Almost, huh? Shame you weren’t close enough to see the whole thing. Maybe you could have learned something."
He snorted, leaning against the wall next to you. "Oh, trust me, I got the best view. Though I’m still not sure if you're brave or just reckless."
You gave him a sideways glance smiling "Maybe I’m both."
Max's eyes lingered on you for a second longer than necessary, and you could feel the weight of it. He sat back in his chair, watching you, and the silence between you grew comfortable. You caught him glancing at you again, that smirk back in place, but this time it felt... different.
"You know," he said, voice teasing, "you should smile more often. You look less intimidating when you do."
You glanced up, confused for a second. "I’m not the one people are intimated by."
"Maybe not," he said, eyes glinting, "but you’ve got your own way of getting under people's skin."
"Well, I learned from the best," you shot back without missing a beat.
Max chuckled, shaking his head. "Touché."
Race Weekend 11 – Italian Grand Prix
As the season wore on, things began to shift slowly. You had found your rhythm, steadily improving race by race. You weren’t on Max’s level, not yet, but you were consistently finishing in the points, and at times, you had even managed to challenge him during practice or qualifying. But the dynamic between you remained strained. Max was still focused on his championship, and while the outright hostility had faded there was still an undeniable tension between the two of you.
The Italian Grand Prix was one of the most iconic races of the season. Monza, the Temple of Speed, with its long straights and tight corners it was a test of both car and driver. You had qualified fourth, but once again Max was on pole. It was becoming a frustrating pattern.
After qualifying you found yourself alone in the paddock, sitting on the steps outside the motorhome. You were replaying your lap in your head over and over, trying to figure out where you could have found more time.
“Still overthinking?” Max’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you looked up to see him standing a few feet away, his helmet under his arm.
You scoffed, shaking your head. “Just trying to figure out how to be half a second faster.”
Max walked over, sitting down beside you on the steps. “You’re pushing too hard,” he said after a moment, his voice surprisingly soft. “You’re overdriving the car.”
You frowned, not sure if this was another dig or actual advice. “I’m trying to make up the gap.”
“You can’t drive like that here,” he continued, his eyes scanning the empty track. “You have to let the car come to you. If you keep forcing it, you’re going to keep making mistakes.”
You looked at him genuinely surprised. This was the first time he had offered anything resembling constructive advice. “Why are you telling me this?”
Max didn’t meet your gaze, instead looking out at the paddock. “Because I’ve been where you are. I know what it’s like to have everything to prove.”
You paused, his words sinking in. For the first time, you realised that Max wasn’t just being arrogant. He had been in your shoes once, the young driver trying to prove himself in a world that was constantly questioning if he was good enough, if he was ready.
“Thanks,” you said, your voice a little quieter than usual. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Max nodded, standing up and stretching. “Don’t get used to it,” he said with his familiar smirk. “I still want to beat you.”
You laughed, the tension between you easing just a little. “I’ll keep that in mind too.”
The race at Monza was chaotic as expected. The high-speed circuit, combined with the aggressive nature of the drivers made for a thrilling but nerve-wracking experience. Max was fighting for the win as usual, while you were locked in a battle in the top five.
In the closing laps you found yourself side by side with a McLaren, both of you fighting tooth and nail for fourth place. It was intense, wheel-to-wheel racing, and you could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins. But Max’s earlier words echoed in your head. Don’t overdrive. Let the car come to you.
With a deep breath you backed off slightly, biding your time, waiting for the right moment. And when it came, you seized it, pulling off a clean overtake and securing fourth place. It wasn’t the podium you wanted, but it was solid result.
After the race you were exhausted, but satisfied. It wasn’t a win but it was a step in the right direction. As you walked back into the garage you caught Max’s eye. He didn’t say anything, but there was a subtle nod of acknowledgment. You had his respect even if he wasn’t going to say it out loud.
Race Weekend 13 - British Grand Prix
It was late in the evening, the team had thrown a small celebration after a particularly challenging but successful race for both of you. The atmosphere was relaxed, and after a few drinks you and Max found yourselves sitting together away from the others. The competitive edge was still there, but the rivalry was fading, replaced by something you couldn’t quite name.
You stretched out leaning back on your hands as the warm night air brushed against your skin. Max sat next to you, closer than usual, the dim light casting soft shadows across his face.
“Do you ever feel like it’s all... too much?” you asked suddenly, surprising even yourself with the question. You weren’t even sure why you asked it, but something about the late night and the quiet moment made you feel like maybe you could.
Max looked over at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he nodded slowly. “Sometimes. More than I admit to most people.”
The honesty in his voice caught you off guard. You turned to him, genuinely curious now. “Really? You always seem so in control...so unfazed.”
He gave a half-smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s all part of it, you know? The cameras, the pressure... you just get good at pretending.”
You looked at him for a moment, seeing past the champion exterior, catching a glimpse of something more vulnerable underneath. It was oddly comforting, knowing he wasn’t as untouchable as you’d thought.
“Well,” you said softly, “you’re pretty good at it. But for what it’s worth, I don’t think anyone’s really in control. Not out there.”
Max turned his head to look at you, his expression softer, more open than you’d ever seen before. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Maybe you’re right.”
There was a pause, his eyes lingered on yours, and you felt your heartbeat pick up. You quickly looked away feeling the tension crackle between you.
"Maybe you’re not quite as annoying as I first thought," you said with a light nudge, trying to break the tension with a small smirk.
Max laughed softly the sound low and surprisingly warm. "High praise coming from you."
But the way he looked at you in that moment made it clear that something had shifted between you. Neither of you said anything else for a while, just sitting there in the quiet night, side by side.
Race Weekend 14 - Dutch Grand Prix
You leaned against the railing of the team’s paddock area, the noise of celebration and chatter swirling around you. It was hard not to smile. You’d just finished in an easy second, your best race yet. It was a personal victory, a testament to all the hard work you’d put in.
But even with the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, a knot of conflicting emotions twisted in your stomach. You had to talk to Max.
As if he sensed your thoughts, you turned to see him walking toward you, a small grin on his face. It was a mix of confidence and camaraderie, and for the first time in a while, you felt less inclined to roll your eyes.
“Great race today,” he said, his tone genuine as he leaned against the railing beside you.
“Thanks,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “I actually thought I might’ve had a shot at you there.”
He chuckled softly, and you felt your heart flutter at the sound. “You were close. Just need to find a bit more speed in those corners, and you’ll be there.”
You took a deep breath, the earlier tension bubbling to the surface. “You know, it used to annoy me—how you carried yourself, like you were always one step ahead of everyone. Like it was your birth right to be where you are and no one else could catch you.”
Max raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by your honesty. “Yeah?"
You turned to face him, the excitement of the race fading into something more serious. “But now? I get it. You’ve worked your ass off to be the best. It’s not just about talent, it’s about everything you’ve sacrificed. I can see that now. I see it everyday”
He nodded slowly, and the atmosphere shifted between you. “It’s not easy, you know. When everyone expects you to win, and if you don’t, it feels like you’ve let them down.”
The vulnerability in his voice surprised you. It was a reminder that he was human too, grappling with expectations and pressure. “But you handle it all so well,” you said, meeting his gaze. “I respect that.”
A smile ghosted across his lips. “Thanks. That means a lot. I’ve noticed how hard you’ve been pushing yourself this season. It’s impressive.”
You felt warmth spread through your chest at his acknowledgment. “I’ve had to, I can’t just coast along. Not when you’re in the same garage.”
Max’s expression grew serious again. “I know I was... a bit frosty at the beginning. I guess I was too focused on myself to notice how much you were putting in. I don't want this to come across wrong... but it's your first season, and I didn’t want to give you any false hope thinking you could compete with me.”
You frowned slightly, you didn't want to dive into old wounds. “It’s okay. I get it.”
“No, it’s not okay,” he said, shaking his head. “You deserved better. I should have been more supportive. You pushed me too, you know? It’s hard to admit, but you’ve made me work harder, and I appreciate that.”
Your heart raced at his words. There was a sincerity in his tone that softened the rough edges of your previous encounters. You couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude mixed with disbelief.
“Really?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah, really,” he replied. “You’ve improved more than I expected in such a short time. It takes guts to put yourself out there and challenge someone who’s been at the top for so long.”
The air between you was charged with a mix of emotions. You nodded*. “Thanks for saying that Max. It means a lot to hear you acknowledge it.”*
He shrugged, trying to downplay the moment, but the corners of his mouth quirked up. “Well, it’s true. Just don’t get too comfortable, I still plan on beating you.”
You laughed, feeling the tension dissipate. “Bring it on Verstappen. I’ll be ready.”
As you stood there, side by side, the competitive fire still smouldering between you, something shifted again—this time, the rivalry felt more like a partnership.
Race Weekend 16 – Azerbaijan Grand Prix
It was early morning Thursday, you and Max found yourselves sitting across from each other at breakfast, still somewhat groggy from travel. The team lounge was quiet, and the two of you were left alone at the table.
“You’re not gonna try and out-eat me too, are you?” Max asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he poked at his food.
You rolled your eyes. “I don’t need to out-eat you Max. I’ve already out-qualified you once.”
His eyes lit up in mock offence. “One time! You’re never going to let that go are you?”
“Not a chance,” you said with a grin, taking a bite of your toast. “I’m framing that lap time.”
He narrowed his eyes playfully. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“And you’re too easy to mess with,” you shot back. "Honestly, it's like a gift."
Max laughed, his genuine smile making your stomach flip in a way you couldn’t quite control. He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I’m just letting you win the mind games. Gotta keep you feeling confident somehow.”
“Oh, so you’re being generous now?” you quipped, raising an eyebrow.
“Always,” he replied with a wink.
The playful banter was natural now, a far cry from the sharp edges and constant tension that had defined your early relationship. There was still competition between you, but now it felt like something that pushed you both forward, rather than tearing you apart.
And as you exchanged another playful jab, you couldn’t help but notice the way both your eyes kept catching each other.
Race Weekend 17 – Singapore Grand Prix
The garage had emptied out, leaving behind only the quiet hum of cooling equipment and the faint clatter of distant tools. A rough race, nothing had gone the way you wanted.
Across the room Max was fiddling with his helmet, but you could tell he wasn’t focused on it. He glanced over at you, then slowly made his way to where you were sitting.
“You okay?” His voice was softer than usual.
You didn’t answer at first, still staring down at your hands trying to shrug off the defeat. “Yeah. Just... it wasn’t my day.”
Max nodded, his gaze steady. “It happens,” he said simply, but there was something in his tone that made you look up.
You sighed, the frustration bubbling over. “I know, but it feels different... I thought I was ready to take that next step the consistency was finally there…and then it just comes crashing back down.”
Max was quiet for a moment and when he spoke again there was a warmth in his voice. “This is a brutal track don't be too hard on yourself. You’ve been doing everything you can, I promise it shows.”
You looked at him, meeting his eyes. “It doesn’t feel like enough.”
Max’s gaze softened, and he took a step closer his hand brushing lightly against your arm. “Trust me, it is.”
The simple touch sent a jolt through you, something unspoken passing between you in that small, fleeting contact. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything Max moved even closer, and in a moment that felt both surprising and natural, he pulled you into a hug.
At first, you were too stunned to react. The sudden closeness, the warmth of his body against yours—it caught you off guard. But then you felt the solid weight of his arms around you, and you melted into the embrace, resting your head against his shoulder. His body was firm, steady, grounding you in a way that made the tension of the day seem to fade.
The hug wasn’t rushed, it lingered, the quiet between you filled with something heavier than words. But the feel of him, his arms around you, his breath steady against your temple was hard to ignore.
You weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion, the frustration, or something else entirely, but suddenly you were hyper-aware of every movement, the way his breath hitched slightly when you leaned into him, the subtle way his hand trailed down your back before settling again at your waist.
Max’s hands tightened slightly around you, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your shirt. You felt his chin rest lightly on top of your head, and there was something in the way his body pressed against yours that sent your pulse racing.
For a moment it was just the two of you, the rest of the world forgotten. You could feel his heartbeat, steady but strong, and the closeness between you felt almost electric. You weren’t sure who would pull away first, or if either of you even wanted to.
When you finally pulled back neither of you moved far, your faces still inches apart. His hands lingered at your waist, and your breath caught when you saw the way his eyes flickered, just briefly, to your lips.
Neither of you said anything, but the way his fingers flexed slightly against your waist, the subtle tilt of his head, made it clear that you both felt it.
Your heart was pounding, the space between you charged. You could see it in his eyes, the question, the pull, but he didn’t act on it. Instead, he gave you a small almost imperceptible smile before he finally let go.
“You’re going to be fine,” he said, his voice quieter than before.
“Yeah,” you managed, trying to ignore the way your body still hummed from the closeness. “I know.”
Race Weekend 18 - Qatar Grand Prix
It was one of those rare nights when the team wasn’t focused on race strategy or technical debriefs. After a relentless set of races, the team had gathered at a low-lit restaurant lounge for a relaxed evening. Laughter and conversation flowed freely around the long table, and for once the entire team seemed at ease.
You were sitting with a few people and one of the mechanics Adam, was regaling everyone with a wildly exaggerated story about a mishap during a pit stop in his rookie year.
Max was sitting a few seats away, engrossed in a discussion with some of the team, but his eyes kept darting over to you, his gaze narrowing slightly as he observed the scene. His shoulders were tense, and the easygoing expression he’d worn earlier in the evening was replaced by something more guarded. It wasn’t like Max to be this quiet at team gatherings, and you were too distracted to notice at first, focused instead on Adam's ongoing tale.
But the shift in atmosphere caught your attention eventually. As you laughed at another one of Adam's jokes you glanced over to find Max staring your way, his jaw set. He quickly looked away, and downed the rest of his drink in one swift motion.
Curious, you turned back to Adam, who was obliviously leaning in a little closer still chuckling at his own story. And then Max was suddenly standing up, making his way around the table and pulling up a chair directly beside you, a smile plastered on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Hey,” Max greeted, his smile a little forced but convincing enough. “What’s going on over here then? Everyone seems to be having fun.”
Adam grinned and gave him a friendly nod. “Just telling some old war stories. You know how it is.”
“Oh, I bet,” Max replied.
You noticed it right away, especially the way he seemed intent on steering the conversation. “Adam was just telling me about his first-ever pit stop disaster,” you explained still smiling. “It’s been quite entertaining.”
“I’m sure it has,” Max said, but his gaze flickered to Adam again something unreadable in his eyes.
Adam glanced between the two of you, sensing the shift, and gave you a friendly smile before excusing himself to join another group. You watched him go, then turned back to Max noticing the tension still in his jaw.
“So, you came all the way over here to save me from pit lane stories?” you questioned.
Max shrugged, his expression casual. “I just didn’t want you to get bored. Thought you might appreciate something a bit more... entertaining.”
You turned to look at him, amused. “Uh-huh, or maybe you just didn’t want to be left out of the conversation.”
“Maybe. But I was doing you a favour, trust me. You’d have heard all of Adam’s best stories in the first five minutes.” He rolled his eyes.
"Seriously, what’s up?" you asked, genuinely confused by his behaviour.
Max didn’t respond immediately, instead glancing around the table, making sure no one was listening too closely before he spoke. "Nothing. Just... noticed you were getting along pretty well with Adam. I didn’t think he was was your type.”
You blinked, surprised by the unexpected comment. “Oh?” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “And what makes you think you know my type?”
Max shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “Just an observation,” he said.
You laughed, shaking your head. “Is that so? And what exactly do you think my type is Max?”
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I don’t know." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping lower. “I'd guess someone who doesn’t just talk big but can actually back it up. You know, a real challenge.”
You felt a flicker of heat rush through you at his words, the playful banter quickly taking on a different tone. “A challenge, huh?” you teased. “Funny, I don’t remember you being all that interested in challenges off the track.”
Max's grin widened, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I guess you’ve been paying attention to the wrong things then.”
Your breath faltered, and for a second you wondered if he was going to say something else, if he was going to push this conversation into territory you hadn’t quite prepared for. But then, just as quickly as it started Max leaned back, breaking the moment with a light laugh.
“Don’t overthink it,” he teased with a grin. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
You laughed lightly, shaking your head at his familiar cockiness. “You’re impossible.”
Max just grinned wider. “That's what they tell me.”
For a few minutes you fell into an easy rhythm of teasing each other, the tension from earlier fading completely. Max shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours under the table.
“So, what are you going to do for the break?” he asked, his gaze lingering on your face.
You shrugged, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at the way he was looking at you. “Probably just spend some time with family, maybe catch up on some sleep. What about you?”
“Hmm, I’m not sure yet,” he said thoughtfully. “Might go back to Monaco, or maybe not. Depends.”
“Depends on what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
Max met your gaze, his expression unreadable for a moment. “Depends on if there’s anything... interesting keeping me around.”
There was a challenge in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine.
“Or, maybe I’ll just catch up on sleep too,” he added with a wink, steering the conversation back into safer territory.
And before you could respond he reached out for his drink, his hand brushing yours briefly in a way that felt almost accidental. But the touch lingered, the heat of his skin against yours sending a jolt of awareness through you. Your eyes met again, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade away, the noise of the restaurant, the people around you. It was just you and Max, the world narrowing down to that single point of contact.
Race Weekend 20 – US Grand Prix
The Padel court was quiet, bathed in the late afternoon sun as you and Max stood on opposite sides of the net. This was meant to be a fun break from the track to let off some steam, but the second you both picked up your paddles it became clear neither of you were about to take it easy.
He’d been chirping at you since you got here, claiming he was going to wipe the floor with you. But you’d heard that song before.
"You sure you’re ready for this?" Max called from the other side of the net, casually tossing the ball up and catching it, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I mean, you can still back out. No shame in admitting defeat early."
You gave him a deadpan look, adjusting your grip on the paddle. "You talk way too much for someone who’s about to lose."
Max rested against his paddle, flashing that familiar smirk. "I’m just letting you believe you have a chance. Keeps things interesting."
You served the ball with a sharp flick of your wrist, sending it careening over the net. Max responded quickly, returning it with ease. The ball bounced between you, a quick exchange of volleys. His movements were swift, confident, but you weren’t about to let him get the upper hand so easily.
"Nice try," Max said after you missed a ball that bounced just out of reach. "You almost looked like you knew what you were doing there."
"Careful Verstappen," you shot back, repositioning yourself for the next rally. "I’m just warming up."
Max laughed, shaking his head. "If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re getting frustrated."
"I don’t get frustrated," you countered, serving the ball again, aiming straight for his side.
"Oh, you definitely do." He easily returned it, the smirk on his face only growing as you both rallied.
You grinned, already feeling the familiar rush of competition surging through you. This wasn’t racing, but it had the same energy—the need to outmanoeuvre, outthink, outplay. And if there was one thing you and Max did well it was push each other’s limits.
"You're really going to make me run for it, huh?" Max panted as he lunged to return a low ball, his paddle barely grazing it.
You smirked. "Wouldn't want you to get too comfortable."
After a particularly long rally, you smashed a shot just out of his reach, winning the point. Max groaned throwing his head back dramatically. "Unbelievable."
You pumped your fist, grinning from ear to ear. "And that’s how it’s done."
"Okay, okay," he wheezed, though his eyes were still bright with amusement. "I’ll give you that one. But don’t think I’m letting you win."
"Letting me win?" you repeated, wiping the sweat from your brow. "That’s cute Max."
Max walked to the net, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "Alright, you got lucky. One point, I’ll give you that."
"One point?" you scoffed, meeting him at the net. "Try four."
"Technicalities," he muttered, but the grin on his face betrayed his playful frustration. He watched you with a glint in his eye. "You know, you’re a lot better at this than I thought."
"Coming from you that means so much." you said dryly.
Max chuckled, his gaze still lingering on you. There was a moment of quiet, the sun casting long shadows on the court, the air between you thick with a kind of unspoken understanding.
"You’re not so bad yourself," you added, breaking the silence but not the tension. "For a guy who spends most of his free time gaming."
Max raised an eyebrow laughing again. "That supposed to be a compliment?"
You shrugged. "Take it however you want."
His grinned. "I think I’ll take it as a compliment."
Before you could reply, he stepped back, tossing the ball in the air. "Alright, rematch. Best two out of three. I’m not letting you walk away with that win."
"You just can’t handle losing to me can you?" you teased, taking your position, ready for another round. "I’m starting to think you just like seeing me sweat."
He chuckled, but the way his eyes lingered on you for a beat longer said more than his words did. "You’re not wrong."
You scoffed, rolling your eyes, but there was no denying the subtle shift in the air. It wasn’t obvious or overt, but the dynamic between you had changed in the last few weeks. The teasing was still there, but there was a different kind of energy between you now, one that neither of you had quite acknowledged yet.
You cleared your throat, stepping back and spinning the ball in your hand. "Let’s finish this then. I’ve got a winning streak to keep."
Max’s grin returned, but it was softer now, less competitive and more… something else. "We’ll see about that."
Race Weekend 22 – Brazil Grand Prix
On race day, the tension was palpable. The roar of engines, the smell of burning rubber, and the hum of adrenaline filled the air. Max was standing next to his car helmet in hand, the pre-race jitters barely showing on his face. You caught his eye from across the garage, and for a moment, the world seemed to quiet around you.
You approached, trying to shake off the strange tension that always seemed to linger between the two of you lately. Max’s gaze met yours, steady but with an intensity that made your breath catch for just a second.
“Ready to lose today?” you asked, trying to keep things light, but your voice sounded a little shakier than you’d intended.
Max smirked, stepping closer than necessary. “In your dreams.”
You tried to roll your eyes, but the proximity made it hard to focus. There was a heat in his gaze and you found yourself holding your breath for a moment.
“Don’t get too cocky Verstappen,” you muttered, the playful tone masking the way your pulse raced.
He leaned in just close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. “I think that’s your job now.”
For a second, it felt like everything had stopped—the noise, the chaos of the track, all fading into the background. But just as quickly the moment passed, and Max stepped back sliding his helmet on.
“See you at the finish line,” he said over his shoulder.
You stood there for a second longer trying to steady your breath, knowing that this race and whatever was happening between you two was far from over.
End of the Season – Abu Dhabi Grand Prix
The season had been a rollercoaster filled with highs and lows. You had stood on the podium for the first time in Canada, a moment that felt surreal after all the hard work. But there had also been heartbreak, a crash in Austria that had cost you valuable points, a mechanical failure in Mexico that had seen you retire from a race where you could have scored big.
Through it all your relationship with Max had continued to evolve. You still raced on track, fighting for every inch of tarmac, but off the track things had changed. There was mutual respect, an understanding that had grown over the course of the season. The animosity that had once defined your relationship was gone, replaced by something more complicated.
The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix was the final race of the season, and the championship was on the line. Max was in a tight battle for the title, and the pressure on both of you was immense.
The night before the race you found Max sitting alone in the team motorhome, staring out at the glowing lights of the Yas Marina Circuit. He looked unusually quiet, his usual air of confidence tempered by the gravity of the situation.
“You ready for tomorrow?” you asked, leaning against the doorway.
Max didn’t look at you, his eyes still focused on the track outside. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
You stepped inside, sitting down across from him*. “You’re going to win it.”*
Max finally turned to face you, a small, almost tired smile on his face. “You sound pretty sure of that.”
“I’ve watched you all season. No one’s better than you out there,” you said simply, meaning every word.
Max shook his head, letting out a short laugh. “You’re not so bad yourself you know.”
You raised an eyebrow.
He shrugged, a playful glint in his eye. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
You had fought hard to get to this point, and though Max was still your fiercest competition, he was also the one person who, you now realised, might understand you better than anyone else.
Abu Dhabi Grand Prix – Race Day
Race day was electric, the air crackling with anticipation. The championship battle had come down to this — the final race of the season, and everything was on the line. Max was in contention for the title, but his rival wasn’t far behind. Every lap, every pit stop, every decision mattered.
You were focused on your own race, but there was an underlying pressure you couldn’t ignore. Max needed you to perform today. If you could help him by holding off the cars behind, or making sure the team strategy worked in his favour, you would.
The race itself was a blur. The car felt good and you pushed hard, determined to finish the year on a high.
As the laps ticked down, the tension in the pit lane grew. Max was leading, but his rival was closing in behind you, and the team was on a knifes-edge. Then, with just a few laps to go, you got the call from your engineer.
“We need you to hold position, keep the cars behind you. Max needs this.”
Your heart pounded in your chest. It wasn’t the call you wanted to hear, but you understood. This was the team game. You weren’t fighting for the championship, but Max was.
“Got it,” you replied, gritting your teeth as you focused on the task ahead.
For the next few laps, you fought with everything you had to keep the cars behind you, giving Max the breathing room he needed. It was arguably the hardest race of your life, the pressure almost unbearable. But when the checkered flag finally fell, you had done it.
Max crossed the line first, securing the championship, and you finished in a solid second place.
The roar of the crowd was deafening, fireworks lighting up the sky as Max stood on the podium, the World Champion once again. You watched him celebrate, a mixture of pride and satisfaction swelling in your chest. You hadn’t won, but in a way you had still achieved something important. You had proven that you could compete at this level, that you could stand with the best.
Later that night, after all the celebrations had died down you found Max sitting alone in the quiet garage, his championship trophy resting beside him.
“Not partying with the team?” you asked.
Max looked up, his face still glowing with the satisfaction of victory. “Needed a minute,” he said, his voice soft.
You stepped inside, sitting down beside him. “You did it,” you said, a small smile on your lips.
Max glanced at you, his blue eyes filled with something deeper than just the thrill of winning. “We did it,” he corrected, his voice sincere.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of the season, the challenges you had both faced, the fights on and off the track — it all hung in the air between you. But there was no tension now, no rivalry. Just understanding.
“You really helped me today,” Max said after a while, his voice quiet but firm. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
You shrugged, trying to play it off, but his words meant more to you than you’d expected. “Just doing my job.”
Max chuckled, shaking his head. “You did more than that.”
You turned to face him fully, your knees brushing against his, the closeness between you suddenly palpable. His eyes were on you, and the look he gave you sent a shiver down your spine.
You met his gaze smiling, the two of you had been through so much together, and now, sitting in the quiet aftermath of victory, it felt like the beginning of something new.
But then the playful smile faded, replaced by a more intense expression. His gaze flickered, dropping to your lips for just a fraction of a second, but it was enough to send your heart racing.
The space between you seemed to shrink. You felt your breath hitch as Max shifted closer, the warmth of his body brushing against yours. His hand moved, almost hesitantly, to your arm, his fingers grazing your skin in a way that made every nerve in your body stand on end.
You could feel it now, the weight of everything unsaid, everything that had built up over the season, all the unspoken moments between you. It was all right there, in the way his hand lingered on your arm, the way his breath caught as his eyes met yours again, more intensely this time.
“You’re not bad at this whole teammate thing,” Max murmured, his voice low.
You rolled your eyes, but the banter was thin now, the words barely a distraction from the way your heart was pounding in your chest. “I guess you're not so bad yourself.”
Max’s smile faded again, his gaze serious, and for a moment, everything else fell away. The garage, the race, the entire championship, none of it mattered. It was just the two of you, sitting there in the quiet.
And then, before you could even process what was happening, Max leaned in.
It was slow at first, as if he was giving you time to pull away, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. His lips hovered just above yours, the space between you almost unbearable, and then finally he closed the distance.
The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but it didn’t stay that way for long. There was too much between you for it to be gentle. His hand came up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, and you felt your body respond, your heart pounding in your ears.
It wasn’t a kiss born out of victory or celebration. It was something else, something more intense, like all the tension, the rivalry, the unspoken moments between you had finally come to a head. It was raw, charged, and for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning around you.
When you finally pulled back, breathless, Max’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes still closed as he let out a shaky breath.
Neither of you spoke for a long moment. There was a shift now, something irrevocable between you, but it felt right. Like this was where you were always meant to end up.
“You know,” Max murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “Next year’s going to be interesting.”
You let out a breathless laugh, still trying to catch your breath. “You have no idea.” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder. “Next year, I’m coming for you.”
Max grinned. “I’d like to see you try.”
And as you sat there, still wrapped up in each other you couldn’t help but smile. The season may have ended, but the story between you and Max was far from over.
⌕ F1 Drivers
SERIES'
max verstappen
LOST | pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5, pt6, pt7
; After getting lost in the city of Las Vegas, a kind stranger offers to help you get to your hotel.
lando norris
MIX-UP MISHAP | pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5, pt6
; After landing in Miami for his race, Lando carelessly places his bag next to an identical one as he rushes to the bathroom. And in a hurry, you mistakenly grab his bag, thinking it's yours. And during the next five days in Miami, everything took an unexpected turn, escalating into something far bigger than either of you had anticipated.
⌕ Marvel
coming soon. . .
⌕ Game of Thrones
coming soon. . .
⌕ House of The Dragon
coming soon. . .
── 𝙥𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥!
𝓵𝓮𝔁𝓲𝓮 | 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘭𝘢, 𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴
about me. hello! my name is lexie, a 21 years old teenage girl far too obsessed with formula 1 and taylor swift. i’m a half filipino, half kiwi struggling dental student. i have far too much time in my hands yet somehow never enough.
works. i mostly write for formula 1 drivers but have written for lower formula drivers. you can find my masterlist below. please make sure to read rules and guidelines before requesting.
requests are currently close!
── 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙜𝙥𝙨!
𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨!
˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ *ೃ༄ 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ *ೃ༄ 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙪𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨
˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ *ೃ༄ 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙨
˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ *ೃ༄ 𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙨
𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵, 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘮𝘦, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵.
© lxclerc 2024. all rights reserved. do not steal, copy, translate, repost and/or claim these works as yours. plagiarism is a crime.
Do they fix their relationship. I can't end like this please!
F1!DRIVERS WHEN YOU TRY TO BREAK UP
( texts masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request )
★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ★ : genre :: angst, lewis' a bit suggestive
⋆ PART 1 ⋆ PART 2 ⋆ PART 3
©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
★ : a/n :: i didn't know how to title this fuckkkkk, ok one more part, are we looking at them making up?😚 feedback and reblogs are appreciated!
𝘽𝘼𝘽𝙔 𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙋𝙎 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝗰𝘂𝘁
𝗜𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮 𝗔𝗨 𝗣𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗲
****************************************************
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve
Part Thirteen
Part Fourteen
Part Fifteen
Part Sixteen
Part Seventeen
Part Eighteen
Part Nineteen
Part Twenty
Part Twenty One
Part Twenty Two
Part Twenty Three
Part Twenty Four
Part Twenty Five
Part Twenty Six + Epilogue
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A 22 year old girl, fan of stackiemight write some fanfictions (marvel, chicago pd, chicago fire, chicago med), short angsty essays about life, update on my journey towards a better mental and physical heatlh. drop questions! fandom related or just you want to talk to somebody.
299 posts