Brb Chewing Concrete

My requests are staying open for any type of F1 X Reader stories because this has been absolute nonsense

I still don’t understand why people waste time writing fan fiction, especially about real people—like footballers—with absurd, unrealistic scenarios. For example, I stumbled upon a ridiculous story about an F1 driver and a plus-sized girl. Let’s be honest: it’s not about whether plus-sized women deserve love; it’s about facing reality. How likely is it that a rich, young, handsome celebrity, who could have any woman he wants, would date someone who doesn’t meet conventional beauty standards?

This isn’t some fairytale about being “not like other girls.” It’s about the carefully crafted image these men project—flawless, desirable, and unattainable. Instead of pouring your time and energy into these fantasies, maybe focus on yourself. Waiting to be “chosen” by a man, especially one as untouchable as an athlete, is a delusion.

These men don’t date everyday women for love. They date models, influencers, or celebrities because it’s mutually beneficial. Their relationships are often calculated business moves designed to boost their image and line their pockets with more endorsements. In a world where money equals power, dating someone who doesn’t fit that aesthetic offers no advantage.

And where does that leave you? As nothing more than a pawn, stripped of autonomy, your life reduced to the strings someone else pulls for their PR game. Stop dreaming about these unattainable scenarios and start working on yourself. The real world doesn’t care about your fantasies, and neither do they.

OSCARRRR PIASTRIIIIIIIIII

LETS GO YOU LITTLE AUSTRALIAN BASTARD

A collection of men who’s hugs could probably solve all my anxiety, they just feel like warm people who would just melt into a hug and not let go until you do

Your original post had nothing to do with seeking genuine and honest debate and had everything to do with trying to foster shame and embarrassment in people who are simply using their time and creativity to closer connect themselves to art, media and fandoms that mean something to them.

If you don't find that x reader content is something that you enjoy that is perfectly fine, but making an entire post that essentially in it's core argument boils down to calling people silly and delusional for creating pieces of fictional media centred around things that they enjoy is just plain rude and extremely condescending.

Believe me no one is under the impression that their works of fiction that they choose to share with other people who enjoy that type of consumption is going to suddenly lead to them in that scenario in real life. We write fiction to closely connect ourselves with the people, authors, artists, and creators that give us joy, and to expand the scope of content that exists for us to consume because that is what we enjoy.

Your post reeks of a superiority complex and a genuine motivation to hurt people who did not ask you to invade our spaces that we have created for ourselves to share in the joy and appreciation of the things we love.

So maybe instead of wasting your time trying to shame people on the internet for minding their own business, you should take your own advice and "maybe focus on yourself."

I still don’t understand why people waste time writing fan fiction, especially about real people—like footballers—with absurd, unrealistic scenarios. For example, I stumbled upon a ridiculous story about an F1 driver and a plus-sized girl. Let’s be honest: it’s not about whether plus-sized women deserve love; it’s about facing reality. How likely is it that a rich, young, handsome celebrity, who could have any woman he wants, would date someone who doesn’t meet conventional beauty standards?

This isn’t some fairytale about being “not like other girls.” It’s about the carefully crafted image these men project—flawless, desirable, and unattainable. Instead of pouring your time and energy into these fantasies, maybe focus on yourself. Waiting to be “chosen” by a man, especially one as untouchable as an athlete, is a delusion.

These men don’t date everyday women for love. They date models, influencers, or celebrities because it’s mutually beneficial. Their relationships are often calculated business moves designed to boost their image and line their pockets with more endorsements. In a world where money equals power, dating someone who doesn’t fit that aesthetic offers no advantage.

And where does that leave you? As nothing more than a pawn, stripped of autonomy, your life reduced to the strings someone else pulls for their PR game. Stop dreaming about these unattainable scenarios and start working on yourself. The real world doesn’t care about your fantasies, and neither do they.

🕯🧿🕯🧿 yuki tsunoda will be safe 🧿🕯🧿🕯 yuki tsunoda WILL THRIVE 🕯🧿🕯🧿 yuki tsunoda will break the 2nd seat curse 🧿🕯🧿🕯 YUKI TSUNODA 2025 PODIUM 🕯🧿🕯🧿

That response proves my point that all you are intending to do is try and cause harm to people.

You think so lowly of people that you are spending your time creating an entire tumblr account to create a rage bait post to argue with strangers on the internet that are trying to mind their own business.

Nobody in the F1 fandom or any other for that matter have any reason to feel ashamed for the media and stories that they create or consume.

However you are clearly intent on trying to make them feel that way. It's sick.

I still don’t understand why people waste time writing fan fiction, especially about real people—like footballers—with absurd, unrealistic scenarios. For example, I stumbled upon a ridiculous story about an F1 driver and a plus-sized girl. Let’s be honest: it’s not about whether plus-sized women deserve love; it’s about facing reality. How likely is it that a rich, young, handsome celebrity, who could have any woman he wants, would date someone who doesn’t meet conventional beauty standards?

This isn’t some fairytale about being “not like other girls.” It’s about the carefully crafted image these men project—flawless, desirable, and unattainable. Instead of pouring your time and energy into these fantasies, maybe focus on yourself. Waiting to be “chosen” by a man, especially one as untouchable as an athlete, is a delusion.

These men don’t date everyday women for love. They date models, influencers, or celebrities because it’s mutually beneficial. Their relationships are often calculated business moves designed to boost their image and line their pockets with more endorsements. In a world where money equals power, dating someone who doesn’t fit that aesthetic offers no advantage.

And where does that leave you? As nothing more than a pawn, stripped of autonomy, your life reduced to the strings someone else pulls for their PR game. Stop dreaming about these unattainable scenarios and start working on yourself. The real world doesn’t care about your fantasies, and neither do they.

We did it guys

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 　Love You Like A Love Song - Part One :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

F1 Grid X Reader

The grid reacts to a love song you wrote about them.

Part Two

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Max Verstappen

✧Wildest Dreams - Taylor Swift

Max was almost always found on the race track, if not in real life then in the simulator with team redline or just solo streaming. It was his comfort zone, what he knew best. Stepping out of that comfort usually had Max counting down the seconds until it was over and he could go back home to you and the cats, but today was different seeing as he had followed you to the studio on this particular winter morning. You were so secretive on the jet ride to London, furiously scribbling in your leather notebook that was falling apart from being under constant strain of ripped out pages, daily use and the odd time that Sassy got her claws on it when it was left out in odd spaces in their home.

"Tell me again why I had to be here today if I am not allowed to hear the new songs yet?" he mumbled with a cheeky grin as he followed you through the door out of the cold and rainy weather, the recording studio was warm at least. Elliot, your producer, got there before them and had boosted the heat in the building to knock the chill out of your bones before what promised to be a long day in front of the mic. "Because we only have one more song to record Maxie, and I want to know what you think of it." You never really meant to be secretive about your music but the nerves of releasing this particular album were leagues higher than in the past since it was your first studio album since you and Max had started dating a year ago.

You met on night two of the European leg of your last tour, Victoria was a big fan of your music and had dragged Tom and Max to your Amsterdam show. His only exposure to you prior to that night had been through the walls of his sisters home when he came to see his nephews but seeing you on stage that night was the nail in the coffin on his single life. Being the world famous racing driver that he was gave him the chance to meet you after the show and the rest was history.

Which led him to where he was today, sitting on the ridiculously comfortable couch behind the production table watching you working on the final piece of the puzzle that would make up your newest record.

"Alright, lets get playback and do a first run through." Elliot prompted you through the microphone that fed his voice through the soundproof booth into your headset. One nod of acknowledgement from you and the playback started, Max could hear the live feed through the speakers for the first time and the drum beat caused him to sit forward with his full attention.

The last thing he was expecting was the lyrics that came out through those speakers,

He's so tall and handsome as hell

He's so bad, but he does it so well

You had always joked about him being your muse since the week you started dating, when you would be on dates and he would see you stop dead in your tracks to pull out that notebook.

Say you'll remember me

Standing in a nice dress

Staring at the sunset, babe

Red lips and rosy cheeks

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

He felt the flush in his cheeks and the grin rise on his cheeks before he even had the chance to fully process what was happening. The song you were most excited to show him that you couldn't even wait until the album was finished, it was about him.

After the initial recording session Elliot busied himself with the hundreds of buttons, sliders and dials on the panel in front of him, you crouched to get your water bottle, ready to go again if needed but Max, he couldn't take his eyes off of you even if he tried. When the ok was given from Elliot you crept out from behind the door of the booth with a shy smile on your face as you made your way to stand in front of him, awaiting the reaction of the love of your life.

"so what do you think?"

Max could barely get the words out between the kisses he was peppering all over your face and neck.

"Vic is going to be so jealous I got a song."

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✧Lando Norris

✧Nonsense - Sabrina Carpenter

Your Vegas show was strategically planned to fall the day before Lando had to be stuck in the paddock all weekend for the first Las Vegas Grand Prix, which led to many of the drivers and their girlfriends to fill up the VIP section of the theatre that housed hundred of excited fans waiting excitedly to see you take the stage.

You and Lando had known each other for years, being in the same year in school up until your GCSE's when he had left to focus on racing and you had moved from England to the states to pursue your music career. You were childhood sweethearts that stood the test of time and the long distance to end up where you are today, both living in Monaco during the off season with you accompanying Lando to each and every race in the last year, spending all your spare time in one of two places, the studio or cuddled up in Lando's arms in the privacy of your apartment. But with your first full studio album skyrocketing you through the charts a world tour soon followed and it had been a few weeks since your schedules had synced up enough to allow you both some real time to spend together. Lando had never been so thankful to have the racing season coming to a close in a few weeks, and with your last 5 shows coming in the following days to wrap up the tour he was ecstatic to have you all to himself for winter break.

His conversation with Oscar and Lily was cut short when the familiar piano notes of 'Emails I Can't Send' ring out through the venue and the screams and cheers of everyone in the room make a dumb grin break out on his face. Your figure appearing on the stage in your iconic tour outfit that Lando was obsessed with, but what made his smile bigger was the slight changes in the style of the outfit that graced your body on the stage, your dress that was usually a hot pink or lavender colour was changed to the oh so familiar papaya colour he knew as his team colours and your white boots had the number 4 emblazoned on them in his iconic neon yellow branding on the chunky heel stem.

The night was electric as he watched you up there, giving the crowd what he would say is the night of their lives as song after hit song was performed with your infectious talent and energy.

Right as the final notes of 'Sue Me' rang out to the crowd he expected the show to end as he knew the set list by heart from being to a few shows at the beginning of the tour, but you weren't leaving the stage and as you started speaking to the crowd his fixed gaze that had been watching you the whole night was broken as he heard the hushed conversation of some of the WAGs that were surrounding him, he barely had time to notice that Alexandra, Lily and Rebecca were looking at him with shit eating grins on their faces and Carlos was recording him on his phone before you stole his attention again.

"So guys, my boyfriend is actually in the crowd tonight." was all you managed to say before the fans cheered, hundreds of faces looking right at him as you let out that beautiful laugh he loves so much before continuing. "Lando is racing in Vegas this weekend and I've been on tour so I haven't been able to see him in like, forever. But the cool thing about that is he hasn't been able to hear this next song, same as you guys."

An unfamiliar melody started to loop through the venue as the cheers of fans kicked up once again. Pure confusion spread across his face as you continued to introduce the new song. "So this is my new single on the deluxe edition of the album and I hope you all enjoy it."

The room was electric as you began to sing, and Lando very quickly realised the reason why everyone of the drivers and their partners surrounding him had the same reaction, because Lando was not expecting to have a song about him drop that very night, but god was he glad it was.

I'll be honest

Lookin' at you got me thinkin' nonsense

Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in

And when you got your arms around me

Ooh, it feels so good I had to jump the octave

His face felt like it was on fire but his ego was growing by the second.

I'm talkin' all around clock

I'm talkin' hope nobody knocks

I'm talkin' opposite of soft

I'm talkin' wild, wild thoughts

You gotta keep up with me

I got some young energy

I caught the L-O-V-E

How do you do this to me?

The song began to end and the last lines of the outro had Lando impossibly excited for the night to end so he finally got to have you to himself again.

he loves me so good its downright heinous

this songs P1 in my boyfriends playlist

what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas

Oh yeah, he was definitely glad he got you all to himself.

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Oscar Piastri

✧Human - Dodie

University had been consuming what felt like your entire existence, barely having enough time or energy to apply to anything that didn't involve coursework, especially since you had your contemporary song writing final project due in a few days. Life had consisted of spending days locked away in your dorm room in front of your travel keyboard trying to construct a melody that felt lightyears away from you.

"You can't keep rotting away in there you know, I don't think we will get our deposit back if you melt into the carpet."

Hattie had been your best friend from the day you started preschool, your entire lives had been spend joined at the hip, you were unable to be separated in your younger years, down to the first days of school every year which were spent in the Piastri home's kitchen eating a breakfast that Nicole had made while you and Hattie chattered so loud that the whole house was brought to life with your laughter. Your tight bond had extended to today, where you both sat in the shared kitchen of your university housing, cups of tea decorating the table along with a pair of laptops and more sheet music blank than filled.

This had easily become the hardest assignment of your degree for you, where Hattie seemingly had no issue and was just finishing the arrangements of her own work before she got to submit her assignment and go home for summer break, you on the other hand felt like smacking your head against the wall, your fractured concentration being split even further by the commentary coming from your phone that was propped up in front of 6 crumpled pieces of composition paper, the Spanish Grand Prix well underway on the other side of the world, where Hattie's brother (who just so happened to be your boyfriend) was in the final laps of his race weekend.

"I know, I cant for the life of me figure out what's wrong. Nothing I've written feels good enough and I really don't want to fail this assignment. The last thing I need is to be back here in three months to repeat this class."

The voices that seeped from your phone announced that with that final lap the race was over and glancing at the chart that took up the left side of the screen a smile broke out on your face. Hattie let her curiosity get the better of her as she rounded the table to watch over your shoulder. "P2, He will be happy with that."

Your whole body itched for a change of scenery after a further 30 minutes with no progress so while Hattie started on dinner for you both you slipped on a jacket and stuffed your notebook into your pocket, heading outside for some fresh air. The weather had cooled only slightly compared to the usual stifling Australian heat which allowed you to sit under the awning of the bike sheds outside the building. Your phone rings not 2 minutes after you settle into a comfortable position, a the familiar contact flashing on the screen as you swipe to answer.

"Congratulations on your podium, Osc." Your words rang out through the empty courtyard as familiar breathing was heard in your ear, the boy you had loved since your childhood clearly having settled in his drivers room after his race. "Thank you, how is your assignment going? Still giving you trouble?" Your audible groan at the mention of the demonic workload hanging over your week was met with warm laughter on the other end of the phone. "That bad huh?"

"I don't know why but I haven't been able to focus enough to even get a melody going, everything I've tried sounds like it was written by The Wiggles." The snort of laughter that rang through her ears eased the stress that held her body hostage by the second and her own laughter broke out to match. "Hey, everyone loves The Wiggles, I think you would make a very cute Wiggle personally."

Oscar's words had her breaking up laughing this time. "Yeah, you would say that." Her voice taunted him over the line, memories flooding her mind of the ridiculous stories that Nicole had told her when she and Oscar had first gotten together when he came back after graduating from his British boarding school, about Oscar being five years old and in love with the Yellow Wiggle at that stage in his life. "I know you can make something amazing, everything you write is so incredible but you need to be kinder to yourself love, you're only human after all."

Oscar's advice rang through her mind as she ended the call with him, his presence being required to go to his post race debrief before he could go to the airport to fly back home to start the summer break with her. Before she could blink the floodgates in her mind finally let loose the creativity that she had been craving since she began the writing process a week ago. Sprinting up the stairs she had just enough time to grab the bowl of spaghetti Hattie had prepared her with a rushed thank you thrown over her shoulder.

An hour and a half later she finally submitted the dreaded assignment and packed her microphone away with the rest of her minimal recording equipment, quickly attaching the audio file to a text and sending it to Oscar before the night caught up with her and she drifted off to sleep in the navy blue OP81 hoodie that she wore to death.

The next morning was hectic, full of packing and cleaning as both girls got ready to pack up Hattie's car and get on the road, with the semester finally over and the promise of a few weeks on the road with Oscar melting the last of her stress. In the chaos of the morning she didn't get to check her messages until noon, where she was met with two texts, one from Logan and one from Oscar.

Oscars message was opened first, a quick 'I knew you could do it <3' sent in the middle of the night, considering the time difference it must have been when he was getting on his flight. The message from Logan showed a video of Oscar sitting on the plane, her voice playing through the speakers of Oscars phone as he stared at it with pure adoration in his eyes.

I want to give you your grin So tell me you can't bear a room that I'm not in Paint me in trust I'll be your best friend Call me the one This night just can't end Oh Oh, I'm so human We're just human

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George Russell

✧Bewitched - Laufey

"Remind me why I'm doing this again, this feels like something that I shouldn't be allowed to do."

The ball of stress that stood in front of George pacing in a midnight blue evening gown would have been the funniest thing in the world to him if he was looking at anyone in the world other than you, his beautiful girlfriend who looked about 3 seconds away from passing out. This seemed like an appropriate time as any for you to suddenly develop stage fright, because you were used to busking on the streets of London with your guitar in your teenage years, eventually moving up to small, intimate gigs in your early 20s to crowds that seemed smaller than a classroom, this was in a whole different ballpark. George met you when you both attended a charity event three years before that was funding for sick children across the UK, part of what drew him to you was your unwavering confidence that you walked through life with, he supposed that musicians had to be born with a certain level of audacity but you were unlike anyone he had ever met before, which is why your anxious behaviour was such a shock to the system.

It eventually became too much for George to take as he stood from his seat in the dressing room and held you firm by the hips, halting you from burning a permanent line in the ridiculously expensive carpet that lined the floors. That seemed to do the trick as you finally managed to take a deep enough breath to ease the tension in your body long enough to look him in the eyes. "What if it's shit Georgie?"

Your statement pulled a chuckle from him before he he could think to stop it. "Impossible love, you've never been shit at anything you've ever done." His reassurance sent a visible comfort through your body as the rest of your muscles relaxed. "Except for padel, you are brutal at padel." George took the laugh that lit up the room as a good sign, god he loved your laugh, he once described it as reminding him of sleigh bells at Christmas which got a good laugh out of Lando and Alex, they still hadn't let him live it down, not that he minded much.

The knock at the door sent your body rigid once more as the stage hand that had been sent for you poked his head around the door to give you a 5 minute warning until you took to the stage. It was unlike anything you had ever done before, George supposed that being invited to perform at one of the most prestigious concert halls in the UK was daunting to begin with, but being asked to perform at their anniversary celebration that was being attended by what seemed like every important person they could think of, royalty included, well George was impressed that this was the extent of your nerves. A big deal indeed.

"You'll be watching me the whole time?"

Your request was endearing if unnecessary, because there were very few moments in his life now that George was not totally enraptured by you, he had been the muse of many memes in his time but his favourite had to be all the times that journalists and fans alike had compiled evidence of the many times that George was probably supposed to be paying attention to something, a meeting, a conversation, but his eyes never left you. "I'll be in the wings the entire time my love, now go, break a leg."

Heavy velvet curtains hid him from sight as the lights faded on to reveal you, centre stage and framed by a beautiful orchestra. The polite applause was so different from the screams of fans that he was used to hearing on a race weekend, but it set the tone as the orchestra began to play, now George was familiar with pretty much every song you had ever written due to how often your voice could be heard through your shared home, but this song was completely new, you had kept it under lock and key deeming it a surprise. As your voice joined the strings and woodwinds he began to realise that this was a wonderful surprise indeed.

You bewitch me Every damn second you're with me I try to think straight But I'm falling so badly, I'm coming apart You wrote me a note, cast a spell on my heart And bewitched me Bewitch You bewitched me

As the audience broke out into thunderous applause and you took your bow, George took a moment to pat the small square box in the pocket of his suit jacket, the box that held the promise of forever.

Bewitched was the only word word to describe him.

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Logan Sargeant

✧Pancakes for Dinner - Lizzy Mc Alpine

In the last few years Logan had been away from his family and friends during the Fourth of July weekend. It was never easy, he spent most of his childhood surrounded by all the people he loved most, with barbecue food and football on the beach filling up the day, the celebrations starting early in the morning and ending with the insane firework display at night. They were some of his favourite memories, the ones that comforted him on the days and nights when his career started to feel like a noose around his neck that tightened with every race weekend that didn't go according to plan.

Which is why he was so happy that this year, the race calendar perfectly bordered his beloved holiday, with Austria ending mere hours before he found himself on a flight back to Florida to celebrate on his week off before Silverstone. Seeing his family was a welcome reprieve from his hectic life, but seeing you was the cherry on top of a perfect week.

The firepit that roared at the beginning of the night had died down to a comforting glow, the beach behind his family home now empty apart from you and him, the rest of the guests gone inside to continue the festivities in the house. "It's good to have you back Lo, I miss you a lot when you're off living the dream" your voice carries across the space between you as you messed with the guitar that sat on your lap, beer forgotten at your feet as you strummed random chords. You had always been his best friend ever since you both met at a karting track as kids, he used to race with your brother before he decided that baseball was his calling, but you and Logan were attached at the hip until he left to move to England to take his career to another level. Now your friendship consisted of facetime calls, battling with time zone differences instead of a 10 minute walk to your house. "You should agree to come to more races then, you know you're invited to basically every one right?"

In reality he knew that globetrotting with him to a new country every fortnight wasn't that simple. You were a veterinary nurse in Florida and he was a racing driver, both of your schedules too hectic to allow for any real time spent together that didn't involve him making the trip back to his hometown. "You really want to put me and your boss on the same continent, I'm too pretty to go to jail!"

The two of you busted up into laughter at the idea of James Vowels being unfortunate enough to be close enough to you that you could finally give the man a piece of your mind. "I do miss Lily though, so might have to take some time off for Austin this year." The fake offended noise that left his lips made you laugh hard enough that Logan was sure his neighbours could hear you. He was sure that the only bond that could rival the one you shared with him was the one that you held with his teammates girlfriend, the fact that you had spent more time at the golf course with Lily this year than you had seeing him face to face sparked emotions in him that he wasn't quite ready to acknowledge.

"What are you playing there?"

The sly smile that crept up onto your face, illuminated by the firelight made his heart stutter, your answer didn't betray your emotions as you started strumming the melody more clearly.

"I wrote you something."

Logan swore his pulse started up in double time as you met his eyes. You had played guitar since you were eight years old but your own songs had been secret for as long as he can remember. But something in the moment caused you to let him into a part of your life he was sure he would never see.

"Play it for me."

The world around them was muffled and felt a million miles away as you nodded before training your eyes on the black ocean in front of you both. Lyrics flowing from you before you changed your mind.

I wanna eat pancakes for dinner I wanna get stuck in your head I wanna watch a T.V. show together And when we're under the weather we can watch it in bed I wanna go out on the weekends I wanna dress up just to get undressed I think that I should probably tell you this In case there is an accident And I never see you again So please save all your questions for the end And maybe I'll be brave enough by then

Laughter from the house behind you both broke the electric energy that filled the air.

"So? What do you think?"

Logan could only hope his kiss was worth a thousand words.

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Alex Albon

✧Juno - Sabrina Carpenter

There wasn't a person alive that believed the joke that Alexander Albon was the biggest WAG in the world than the man himself. While he spent his days driving his Williams car in the midfield of the F1 grid he was more than aware that you kissed him good morning every day you spent together, only to go and play a sold out concert to a stadium of adoring fans, of which Alex was your biggest.

He still found himself pinching his arm whenever he saw you, either on stage playing the global superstar or in the comfort of your own home playing with your puppy Juniper. It seemed uncharacteristic of him when he slid into your DM's one night after seeing a concert with his sisters, but fate apparently had his cards picked out in his favour when you visited a race a few weeks later as a guest of Red Bull and he got to meet you in person, the rest was history as you had been dating the Thai driver ever since.

The distance wasn't always easy but this particular summer break lined up perfectly with the end of the US leg of your most recent tour, which is how you both ended up spending your three week break in Bali, completely wrapped up in each other with no work interruptions.

Until today that is.

His place in your shared bed gave him the perfect view of you pacing the balcony of the villa that had been rented for the duration of your stay. His eyes easily following your body as it appeared in the doorway before disappearing just as quick, back and forth as you spoke to your management team on the phone, a call which was hitting the forty minute mark, causing his patience to wear thin. Luckily just before the call was about to hit an hour in length you ended it and your figure bounding back into the room caused him to sit up against the headboard. You grabbed your laptop from your bag before sliding back into bed, lips meeting his before you settled in and began furiously searching through the files on your desktop.

"what part of vacation do they not understand?" he groaned, his face finding the crook of your neck as you let out a laugh, nudging his side.

"That was Marcus, Short and Sweet drops in an hour."

Alex could feel the excitement vibrating through your body. Your most recent album had been in the works for months and while he usually got to live through the entire process with late night writing sessions and studio visits between races, you had been oddly secretive when it came to this one. He was excited for you, he loved your voice and your music was what had brought you together so seeing you continue to make the music that made you so happy made the challenges that came with your relationship worth it.

A soft "aha" pulled him out of his daydream as you pulled up the folder that contained the songs. He sat up again, ready for the full listening party that he was so used to at this point. Which is why his proud grin turned a tad confused as you dragged the cursor down to the third to last track on the album, his question died on his tongue as you pressed play on the file titled Juno (A.A<3) and the music started to pour through the speakers of your laptop.

Oh, I know you want my touch for life If you love me right, then who knows? I might let you make me Juno You know I just might (Might) Let you lock me down tonight One of me is cute, but two though? Give it to me, baby You make me wanna make you fall in love

His ears burned as the song ended and by the look on your face he was reacting exactly how you wanted.

"So? What do you think?"

Your laptop tumbled onto a stray cushion that found its way onto the floor, as he tackled you back onto the sheets. laughter filling the room.

Thank god for the end of the tour.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Part two will be up asap. Requests are open.

Hope you enjoyed!

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Valentines | OP81

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: [STAR-CROSSED LOVERS AU] A love written in the stars, doomed to be lost and reborn, until it finds its way home.

Warning(s): Angst, fluff, death, heartbreak, violence, historical tragedy, reincarnation, loss, heavy emotional themes. Hopeful open ending.

"If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I’d like to do, is to save every day ‘til eternity passes away, just to spend them with you.”

13th Century, (before Valentine's day was created)

The night was cool but serene, the kind that held the heavens close to earth.

The stars, bright as scattered diamonds, seemed to hang lower than usual, as if listening to whispered secrets from the mortals below.

On a gentle hillside above the village, Y/N and Oscar lay on a woven blanket. The faint glow from distant lanterns barely touched the edge of the meadow, leaving the two lovers bathed in moonlight and shadow.

Y/N’s gaze was fixed upon the heavens. Her hair, dark as the midnight sky, spilled across the blanket, and her eyes glistened with unshed thoughts. “Do you ever think,” she began softly, “that there is more to this world than we can see? That the stars themselves hold our fate?”

Oscar, lying beside her with one arm tucked beneath his head, turned his face to hers.

His gaze was steady—dark, earnest, and filled with something too vast to name. “I think the stars are envious of us,” he said. “They shine so bright, yet they cannot love as we do.”

Her lips curved into a small, wistful smile. “You are ever the poet, my Oscar”

“And yet my words are unworthy of you.” He took her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “What we have—no words or stars could ever capture it.”

Their wedding was but a few hours away. In the village below, preparations had already begun. Fresh flowers adorned the chapel, bread had been baked, and garlands of ivy hung from every doorway.

Yet there was an unspoken fear lingering between them—a shadow over their joy. Their love, though strong, had drawn the ire of some. Envy was a dangerous thing.

“Do you think the world will ever change?” Y/N asked after a long pause. Her voice was barely more than a breath. “That love will one day be celebrated, not try to be stolen from us?”

Oscar’s grip on her hand tightened. “One day, there will be a day for lovers. A day when the world will honor love itself—no matter the cost.”

Her brow furrowed. “You speak as though such a thing could truly be.”

“It will be.” His gaze never left hers. “And when it comes, our love will be remembered. Even if we are not there to see it.”

Tears welled in her eyes, but she did not let them fall. “Such a promise is a weighty thing, Oscar. Do not speak it unless you mean it.”

“I mean it with all that I am. My darling Y/N.” He leaned forward, his forehead brushing hers, his breath warm against her skin. “Should the world tear us apart, let it be known—our love will endure beyond time. And one day, it will be honored, forever.”

Her tears spilled then, though she smiled through them. “I shall hold you to that, my love. For our forever lives beyond eternity”

“Then hold me tightly,” he whispered. “For the stars may change, but my heart never will.”

They kissed beneath the moon—a kiss filled with promises, hope, and desperation. Yet even the stars, ageless and wise, could not save what was to come.

When the dawn broke, the bells did not ring for a wedding.

They rang for mourning.

_____________________________

Salem Witch trials. February, 1692

The sky was heavy with the weight of storm clouds, as if the heavens themselves mourned the scene below. Smoke curled around the edges of the village square, where a towering pyre stood ready.

The scent of damp wood mixed with something darker—the fear of what was to come.

Y/N was bound at the center of the pyre, her wrists tied cruelly behind her back. Her white shift clung to her skin, torn and streaked with mud. Despite everything, she held her head high.

Her gaze swept over the crowd, but she found no mercy in their eyes. Only fear and hatred, fed by lies and jealousy.

And then she saw him.

Oscar.

Her Oscar.

He stood at the edge of the crowd, held back by two guards. His dark tunic was torn at the collar, and his knuckles were bloodied from struggling.

His eyes—those eyes that had always looked at her with such tenderness—were now wild with desperation.

“Let her go!” His voice was raw, filled with a grief too large for his body to contain. “You know she’s innocent!”

No one moved. The villagers, once neighbors and friends, now turned their faces away.

The elder stepped forward, his voice booming across the square. “This woman has bewitched our men, cursed our land, and threatened our very souls. By the law of God and man, she is condemned.”

Oscar surged forward, but the guards yanked him back. “No! She has done none of those things! You know this is a lie!” He looked to the man standing smugly by the elder—a former suitor of Y/N’s, whose jealousy had poisoned the entire village. His lips curled into a cruel smile.

Y/N’s throat tightened, but she refused to let tears fall. If she was to die, she would not give them the satisfaction of her fear.

The elder turned to her. “Do you have any final words before you meet your fate?”

Y/N’s voice, when it came, was steady and clear. “I have never cursed you. I have only ever loved.” Her eyes softened as they found Oscar’s. "And I will love still.”

Oscar’s knees buckled. His hands trembled as he reached toward her, though the distance between them was too great. “No,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Don’t say goodbye. Not like this.”

“I’m not saying goodbye.” Her lips curved into the smallest, saddest smile. “You promised me, remember? Our love will endure.”

“And I will keep that promise,” he swore. “I’ll find a way, Y/N. I’ll save you. Just hold on a little longer—”

The elder gave a signal. The executioner stepped forward, a lit torch in his hand.

“No!” Oscar’s scream tore through the square.

He fought with every ounce of strength he had, but the guards held firm.

The first flame touched the base of the pyre. The fire was small at first, but it grew quickly, crackling as it devoured the wood. Smoke rose in thick tendrils, curling around Y/N like a shroud.

Oscar’s struggles turned frantic. “Stop it! Stop! You’re killing her!” His voice broke on the last word, shattered beyond repair.

Y/N felt the heat licking at her feet, but she forced herself to stay calm. In her mind, she was no longer here. She was with Oscar, lying on a blanket beneath the stars. The sky was endless, and the world was kind.

But the fire did not care for dreams.

The rose behind her ear—the one Oscar had tucked there just last night—caught the first ember. It burned slowly, its petals blackening before curling into ash.

Oscar saw it happen. Something inside him snapped. He fell to his knees, his strength gone. His hands dug into the dirt as if he could anchor himself there, in that moment, with her.

“You promised me!” he cried, tears streaming down his face. “You said we would have forever!”

Y/N’s eyes met his one last time through the smoke and flames. Her lips moved, though no sound escaped.

Forever lives beyond fire.

The flames consumed her then.

Oscar collapsed. The guards released him, but it did not matter. He was broken.

The crowd began to disperse, their faces drawn with unease. The man who had condemned her lingered for a moment longer before turning away, victorious.

But Oscar remained. Long after the fire had burned itself out, he knelt at the base of the pyre. The ground was cold beneath him, but he did not feel it. All he felt was loss.

In the ashes, a single petal remained—a fragment of the rose. Blackened, but whole. He picked it up with trembling hands, cradling it as if it were the last piece of her.

The wind howled through the empty square, carrying with it the memory of her voice.

One day, their love would prevail. But not today.

Today, love had burned.

_____________________________

Somewhere on the Western Front, February 14, 1917.

The trenches stretched on endlessly, a scar carved into the earth. Mud, tar, blood, and shattered hopes soaked the ground beneath Oscar’s boots. The air was heavy with frost and ash, the horizon swallowed by gray clouds that refused to break.

Yet, for a moment, there was peace.

Oscar sat beneath a makeshift shelter of broken wood and canvas, a small oil lamp flickering beside him. His uniform, frayed and caked in mud, felt too tight across his chest. His hands shook from cold—or perhaps it was the weight of what he was about to write.

In the dim light, he pulled a worn photograph from his breast pocket. It was crumpled from constant handling, the edges soft and frayed. But the image was clear. Y/N’s eyes smiled back at him, the sunlight behind her turning her hair into a golden halo. They had taken the photo the day before he left.

He could still hear her laughter. Still feel her hand slipping into his. He’d kissed her goodbye that morning, swearing that he would return before the war could claim their love.

Now, that promise felt like a dream.

With a deep breath, Oscar placed the photo beside him and opened his letter. The paper was yellowed from age and damp with the trench’s cold, but it would do. His pen hovered above it for a long moment before the words finally came.

My Dearest Love,

Every breath I take is yours. Every sunrise belongs to you. And tonight, beneath this shattered sky, I write to you with one truth: my love has never wavered. It never will.

Today is February 14, my darling Y/N. I imagine you standing by the window, watching the rain fall softly against the glass. You always did love the rain—how it made the world new again. I wonder if you think of me as you watch the storm. If you wonder where I am, if I am safe, if I still carry your heart with me. I do.

He paused, pressing his hand to his chest where his locket rested—a gift from Y/N. Inside was another photo of her and a tiny pressed rose, its petals brittle but intact.

You once told me that love would endure anything. That we would endure anything. I believe you. The world may crumble beneath our feet, but we are unbreakable. I see it in every star, every breeze, every moment I close my eyes. I feel you there.

Oscar swallowed hard. His throat tightened as the memories flooded in. Her laughter. Her touch. Her voice calling him home.

When I return—because I will return—we will live the life we dreamed of. No war, no distance. Just us.

The pen trembled in his hand as he added the final line.

Until that day, I am yours. Forever.

Your Oscar.

He folded the letter carefully, pressing it to his lips before tucking it into an envelope. For a moment, he sat in silence, the weight of the world pressing down on him. But then he reached for his pencil.

On the back of the envelope, he sketched a heart—simple and imperfect, but filled with everything he couldn’t say.

He had just finished when the ground trembled beneath him.

A low rumble echoed across the horizon, growing louder with every second. The peace that had settled over the trenches was gone, replaced by the unmistakable howl of incoming artillery.

“Take cover!” someone shouted.

Oscar barely had time to move.

The first shell hit twenty yards away, sending a spray of dirt and shrapnel into the air. The world erupted in chaos—men shouting, the earth splitting open, smoke and flame consuming everything.

Oscar scrambled to his feet, the letter still clutched in his hand. His mind was a storm of thoughts.

Y/N. I have to send the letter. I have to make it back.

The second explosion was closer.

He stumbled as the blast threw him to the ground. Pain flared in his side, sharp and unforgiving.

Blood soaked through his uniform, but he didn’t notice. His eyes were fixed on the envelope that had slipped from his grasp.

It lay just inches away, next to the photograph of Y/N. Both were stained with mud but still intact. Still whole.

He reached for them, fingers brushing the edge—

The third shell hit.

The force of the explosion shattered the world. Heat and light consumed everything, a deafening roar that drowned out all sound.

When the dust settled, Oscar lay on his back, gasping for air. His ears rang, his vision blurred. Pain radiated through his body, but it was distant—muted, like the world had been placed behind a veil.

Through the haze, he saw it.

The letter.

It lay a few feet away, flames licking at its edges. The photograph was beside it, the image of Y/N already blackening.

“No,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. He tried to crawl toward it, but his limbs refused to obey.

The fire spread quickly. In seconds, the paper was gone—ashes scattered by the wind.

Oscar felt something inside him break.

His vision darkened, but he fought to stay awake. He couldn’t close his eyes. Not yet.

The last thing he saw was the sky above him. The clouds had parted, revealing a single, brilliant star. And for a moment, he thought he heard her voice.

Forever lives beyond fire.

Then everything went dark.

______________________________

Melbourne, 14th February 2025

Oscar Piastri hated Valentine’s Day.

He hated the gaudy red roses drooping in every florist window, their petals curling from being left in the sun too long.

He hated the plastic-wrapped chocolates that melted before you got home and the relentless couples holding hands as if the world were made just for them.

It was all tacky—a hollow masquerade of love.

Jogging along Melbourne’s Yarra River, he tried to drown it all out. His breath clouded the cool evening air, each inhale measured, each exhale laced with unspoken frustration. The city around him buzzed with life—shops closing for the day, street performers drawing their last crowds—but Oscar barely noticed.

He just wanted the day to end.

The ache had been there for years—a hollow pit in his chest that throbbed every February 14th. He couldn’t explain it, couldn’t name the shape of the sadness that settled over him. It wasn’t tied to anyone or anything in particular. It was just..there.

Why does it feel like I’m missing something?

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the city in hues of indigo and gold, Oscar turned a corner into a quieter street.

It was almost dark, the streetlamps just starting to flicker to life, their dim halos casting long shadows.

That’s when he saw it.

A scuffle, under the glow of a single streetlamp.

A man—a hulking figure dressed in a dark coat—grabbing a woman’s bag. She struggled, pulling back with all her strength, but the man was relentless.

Oscar didn’t think. He sprinted toward them.

“Hey!” he shouted, the sound echoing through the narrow street.

But before he could reach them, the woman acted.

With a sudden burst of movement, she wrenched free and drove her elbow into the man’s ribs. He staggered back, cursing, but she didn’t stop.

A swift kick to his shin sent him stumbling, and within seconds, he was fleeing into the night.

The woman stayed where she was, leaning against the brick wall. She pressed a hand to her chest, her breath coming fast and shallow.

Oscar slowed, his heart still pounding. “Are you—”

And then he saw her.

The streetlamp’s light fell across her face, illuminating every angle, every shadow. Her hair, wild and wind-tossed, framed her features like a halo.

There was a thin cut on her cheek, a small trail of blood just beginning to dry. Yet she stood tall, unyielding, her dark eyes burning with a fire that seemed both fierce and familiar.

His breath hitched.

There was something about her—something he couldn’t place. A memory just out of reach.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now.

She pushed herself off the wall, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. Despite everything, a grin tugged at her lips. Mischievous. Defiant.

“I’m fine. He just picked the wrong girl tonight.”

Her voice was low and steady, but there was a spark behind it. That fire in her eyes—it was more than defiance. It was something older. Something that had withstood storms. Fires.

Oscar took a slow step forward. The air between them felt charged, electric. “You sure?”

“I’ve had worse,” she said, still smiling. But as she looked at him, her grin faltered—just for a second. Her gaze softened, confusion flickering behind her eyes.

Oscar felt it too. That ache in his chest—the one he couldn’t name—tightened. His hand reached out before he even realized it, fingers brushing against hers.

The moment their hands touched, the world shifted.

A sudden warmth shot through him, racing up his arm and spreading through his chest. It wasn’t painful—it was a spark, a pulse, a memory. Something he couldn’t explain but felt. And it wasn’t just him.

She froze too, her eyes widening as if she’d just seen a ghost.

For a moment, the world fell away.

And then, unbidden, a phrase whispered through his mind.

Forever lives beyond fire.

Her expression changed. Her breath hitched, her hand tightening around his—just slightly. And in the dim light, he noticed something he hadn’t before.

A rose.

It was tucked behind her ear, half-hidden beneath her dark hair. Its petals were deep red, velvet-soft, but the edges were singed. Blackened, as if it had been touched by fire long ago but refused to wither.

He couldn’t look away.

She took a step closer, their hands still intertwined. Her eyes searched his, as if she too were on the edge of remembering something just out of reach.

Finally, she broke the silence. “What’s your name?”

“Oscar,” he said softly..

Her lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “Y/N.”

There it was again—that spark. That connection.

And as they stood beneath the streetlamp’s flickering light, Oscar felt something shift inside him. The ache that had haunted him for years didn’t disappear entirely, but it softened.

For the first time, Valentine’s Day didn’t feel so hollow. For the first time, it felt like the beginning of something good.

_____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

If you liked this story please leave a like a comment and a reblog!

This came to me, in a nap, it was me and blurry guy( that I definitely have a crush on now), and it felt so real, so I had to write it down. My writers block isn't writers blocking..idk. anyway, hope you like this little piece. It took me only an hour to write. Now I'm going back to sleep. Happy Valentine's day to all!

Jules♡

Taglist: @anamiad00msday @evie-119 @that-one-little-soybean @six-call @stressed-cherry @il0vereadingstuff @whatevenisthisxxxxx @freyathehuntress @nina-or-anna-or-nora @allthings-fandoms @larastark3107 @myescapefromthislife @wertyuizxcvbnm @halleest @hs2016 @lucyysthings @justaf1girl @bernelflo @mendes-bae @chelseyyouraverageluigi @llando4norris @sid-is-gr8 @henna006 @hurtblossom @quinquinquincy @ts1mp0ne @spidercat-soccerfan @kodzuvk @wherethefuckisthething @hellowgoodbye @prttylight @l4ndonorizz @edgyficuselastica @k-kaliop @charlesgirl16 @chloes-book-corner @1mverstappen @inchidentofftrack @blackmage24 @angelluv16 @alice-went-away

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: Love You Like A Love Song - Part Two :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

F1 Grid X Reader

The grid reacts to a love song you wrote about them.

Part One

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧

Pierre Gasly

- Lover - Taylor Swift

The winter break in the F1 yearly calendar was possibly your favourite time of year, any time that you didn't have to miss your boyfriend for days at a time was time you cherished. During the season it was common for you and Pierre to pass each other like ships on the ocean. His early morning starts meant that you were waking up just as he left for the gym and with your days being spent in the studio you wouldn't arrive back to your shared home until long after he had eaten dinner, walked Simba and spent some time on the simulator to prep for that weekends upcoming race.

But winter break meant a few different things, the first being just over two months of freedom between the end of one season in Abu Dhabi and the beginning of testing before Bahrain kicked off the next. The second being that you and Pierre would spend a week visiting both of your families to spend some time with them before the two of you holed yourselves up in Strasbourg for the Christmas period, your apartment there playing host to the most wonderful time of year until New Years called you both down to Monaco for the annual celebration with your friends.

But tonight was more important than thoughts of the upcoming season, Christmas Eve was here and after you both got back from touring the Christmas market with Simba, the front door was locked and the curtains mostly drawn, the fireplace lit and the croon of old records on your player sealed you all inside your apartment for the night, wrapping you up in your own little snow globe. It was a picture perfect scene, you on the couch with Simba curled up in your lap, Pierre grabbing the wine and pasta that you were eating for dinner, with Miracle on 34th Street playing on the TV, snow falling past the window.

Every Christmas followed this routine since you and Pierre first celebrated the holiday together as a couple, and you couldn't picture a better way to spend it.

But of all of the traditions you followed there was one that seemed the most special, as a child Christmas gifts were locked away never to be opened until the morning, but being adults who made their own rules, you two always sat under the tree on the evening of the 24th and opened your gifts for each other. This year you could feel yourself on the edge of your seat because of the wrapped record that sat at the bottom of his pile, a surprise that you had been working on for about a month.

"qu'est-ce que c'est?" his goofy smile made you giggle as he got to the last gift in his little stack, a stack which had also contained a new watch, a silly t shirt with a photo of him and Charles when they were kids in their little karting suits (a matching one sat in a gift bag with the Monegasque's name on it) and a Cartier chain that now sat in its rightful place on his neck. The flat square was wrapped immaculately in the same gold and silver paper as his other gifts but once the paper was ripped off Pierre was met with a simple brown cardboard record sleeve, completely blank besides a polaroid that had been glued to the front, it was from your first Christmas together, taken in that very apartment when it was empty bar the Christmas tree and sofa you were currently sat on. One word decorated the bottom border of the photograph "Lover" written in your familiar handwriting.

Your own smile only grew when he immediately abandoned all his other gifts to swap out the current song for his mystery gift. Smooth guitars filled the room as he pulled you up to dance with him, your own voice echoing through the room as you settled into a slow sway.

Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever) You're my, my, my, my Lover

The songs end was met with the muffled crackle of the needle but you couldn't pull your eyes away from his. without breaking away from your gaze Pierre pulled a small box from his pocket and knelt on the spot. Love and admiration never leaving his eyes.

Your Lover, Forever.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Charles Leclerc

- Feels like This - Maisie Peters

There were a select few honours that you had managed to have in your life this far, the first being the music you were able to give to the world. Since you were old enough to babble you held a tune and the passion you had for music translated to the songs you wrote and shared with the world as your career.

The second being the honour you had to be the long time girlfriend of the most amazing man you had ever known. Charles met you when you were traveling in Italy a few years ago as a well deserved treat to yourself after finishing university. A coffee shop in Maranello played host to your meet cute where you sat in a cosy corner next to the most beautiful piano, when the owner saw you eyeing the instrument she insisted that you play something, and among the crowd of café patrons stood a transfixed Charles Leclerc. He was still in his first year of racing with Ferrari at the time, and once you finished playing a song that you had written the patrons applauded while he worked up the courage to ask you for your name, and eventually your number. The relationship that followed was nothing short of a fairy tale and as his career in formula one grew so did yours in music, both of you growing into notorious and respected individuals in your respective fields.

All this to say that your third and most recent honour came in the form of a request 6 months ago. It was inevitable that Charles brother Lorenzo would eventually propose to his long time love Charlotte but when the day finally came it was magical. This exciting chapter in their lives came with a very special request from the future groom himself, as he pulled you to the side at the family dinner held to celebrate the upcoming nuptials and explained that he wanted to surprise Charlotte with a song for their first dance as husband and wife, and he wanted you (renowned artist and his brother's girlfriend) to write and perform it.

Which led you to tonight, mere hours before the wedding, where you were sat at the piano in the ballroom of the beautiful historic mansion in the Italian countryside that would play host to the reception the following day. You were so engrossed in your secret rehearsal that the footsteps of your love went unheard until you felt him sit with you, the both of you sharing the piano stool. Charles made a successful distraction as your fingers left the keys and you turned to look at him, joy dancing in his eyes as he took you in, sat in your happy place.

"So this is what you have been working on? It sounds beautiful."

Charles was just as much in the dark about your song as the rest of the family, the only one who had heard the song being Lorenzo when you sent a voice note to him three weeks ago for final approval, the phone call you received minutes later held his glowing admiration and you could almost swear his voice was heavy with emotion as he thanked you what must have been a hundred times, citing the songs perfection.

"Enzo asked me to write it, its his gift to Charlotte for tomorrow, their first dance."

You fiddled with the keys absentmindedly before launching into the full song, this time with the vocals which echoed through the empty room, the world coming to a standstill as Charles watched you with eyes full of love.

Who cares about star signs? I'm hardwired to be with you You're like a sunrise and I'm scared that I'll never get enough of you Nobody called it a starfall Come out the blue I'm all butterflies I'm sky-high for you When it feels like this, like a light came on And you look at me like I'm all you want I got everything at my fingertips How can I resist when it feels like this?

The final notes echoed through the room as you met Charles' gaze for his approval, you were met with his hazel gaze staring into your soul.

"How do you do it?" He whispers in awe.

"I write them about you."

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Carlos Sainz

- A Thousand Years - Christina Perri

You and Carlos never fought, in the three years that you have been lucky to love him it had never happened.

You were convinced that you were soulmates, twin flames that slotted together like puzzle pieces, your personalities fit in a way that you had never seen before, not in the love your own parents shared, not in the movies you grew up watching or the books you read, not even in the love you saw everyday between strangers on the streets that you would never meet again. Since the day you met Carlos Sainz you were convinced that he was the answer to the wishes that the little girl inside you once made on stars looking to find a handsome prince to love her forever.

Couples fight, it was normal, healthy even. The words bounced around your head, hitting the walls of your empty home in a never ending loop. Couples fight, but you never did.

Which is why you were so frazzled, why you sat in a trance in your living room, alone in your big empty house while your fiancé was on the other side of the world. Because you and Carlos never fought, until you did.

The argument became insignificant the second it ended, you couldn't even remember what it was about or what had started it in the first place, but it was enough to leave you in tears as Carlos picked up his keys and left two days before he was set to leave for Singapore. Your phone lay on the table in front of you, screen dark and notification bar empty. He had yet to reach out, no calls or texts since he walked out the day before, but neither had you. You didn't know what to say, and it wasn't for lack of trying, but every time your finger hovered over his contact you froze, what if he didn't want to speak to you? The Singapore Grand Prix was a difficult race in its essence, it was held at night in blistering heat and it was dangerous if the driver couldn't command their full focus, so the idea of distracting him before he raced left a pit in your stomach.

You were brought out of your thoughts when your phone finally lit up, the screen coming to life with a feint buzz, heart leaping into your throat you scrambled to open it, hoping for a message from him, but it was instead from Lando, one of Carlos' closest friends on the grid. His message was simple, a brief 'saw this on twitter' followed by a video.

Opening the attachment you were met with an edit, clearly made by a fan, of moments that the media and other fans had caught in your relationship. Clips and photos from the last three years of you and Carlos strung together in a video that captured the story of you both, from early days to the many races that you were in attendance for, snippets from interviews where the other was mentioned to the photo that had announced your engagement to the world. Every public moment of your love captured in a two minute video that had you smiling and filled with warmth.

The song took three days from start to finish, your extensive training in as many instruments as you could get your hands on let you compose the piece in record time, and the final product sat nestled in your phone as you boarded the flight to Singapore, the sixteen hour flight let you catch up on the sleep you had lost and when you landed on Sunday evening you were an hour away from the start of the race, you wouldn't make it to the track before Carlos was in the car but the audio file was sent as you settled into a taxi.

When you reached the paddock the race was well underway and a staff member from Ferrari waited at the gates with your pass. There were 10 laps to go when you finally made it to the garage, Alexandra waving you over as you both watched your boys in the final stint of the race, when the checker flag waved to signal the end of the race you accompanied the rest of the crew out to the parc ferme barriers, Max, George and Lando settled into their podium spaces and between them you could see him.

Your eyes met, and the world stopped.

As he jogged over the crew around you began their congratulations for his P4 finish, but your eyes never left his, not until he reached you and his lips crashed onto your own. The frozen world around you began to speed up, lights brighter and sounds louder as you poured you entire being into the kiss.

"mi para siempre" were the words that he mumbled, breaking the kiss with your foreheads pressed together like if you were to separate the world would end.

Couples fight, you and Carlos fought, once, and never again.

And all along I believed I would find you Time has brought your heart to me I have loved you for a thousand years I'll love you for a thousand more

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Daniel Riccardo

- Enchanted - Taylor Swift

It was official, you had finally lost your mind.

"I hope you guys are enjoying the show tonight" you spoke into the mic as the stadium crowd cried out in deafening screams, your usual tour costume had been swapped out for the most gorgeous purple gown of your dreams, this entire section of the show was brand new to debut tonight and close out your Sydney show. A new song that had never been heard by the crowd, or by the man who stood with your friends and family in the VIP tent.

You and Daniel had been friends for as long as either of you could remember. Attached by the hip all your lives you were best friends, well, you were his best friend, you were madly in love with him, which was inconvenient.

As the crowd died down you continued "It's so special to be back in Australia, this has been a pretty epic welcome back to my home so thank you all for coming out tonight." You could feel the love pouring back at you from the crowd, which was giving you courage to do what you were about to do, if this whole thing blew up in your face like fireworks then at least you knew that they would have a new song.

"So I have this song, its a new song that I wrote for my next album but I think that tonight is the perfect night to sing it to you all for the first time." Your eyes bounced between the floor and the section of seats to the left of the stage, where you knew Daniel was watching.

Yep, you had finally gone insane.

"This song was written with someone really special to me in mind, He is someone I have known all my life, and he just so happens to be the person I love most in the world, so I hope you enjoy."

The band played the intro to the song, guitars ringing through the venue which riled the crowd up once again into cheers, there was no going back now.

There I was again tonight Forcing laughter, faking smiles Same old tired, lonely place Walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy Vanished when I saw your face All I can say is, it was enchanting to meet you

Thousands of lights began to erupt around the stadium, looking like the fireflies that you and Danny used to chase in the summer. This song contained your entire being, all of your feelings, memories, and dreams condensed into six minutes. Years of neighbouring desks in school, sneaking out to watch the stars, lounging on the sofa in his garage while he fiddled with his kart. It spanned all the cities that you followed him to, watching him race, every victory and every loss, different formula categories and varying teams over the years as he made a name for himself. All the years of talent shows and sleepless nights on porches with your guitar and your notebook, to the sold out shows that led you to tonight. Every single moment shared with him.

This is me praying that This was the very first page Not where the story line ends My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon I was enchanted to meet you

The consequences of your extremely public declaration of your feelings were glaringly obvious, it could all go horribly wrong. You knew that Daniel wouldn't exit your life if he didn't feel the same, but no matter the outcome, either he returned your feelings or you just publicly humiliated yourself on stage and you weren't entirely sure that you could live with the rejection that you would face if he didn't love you the way you wanted to be loved by him.

Daniel Riccardo held a tight grasp on your heart and he had the power to shatter it into a million pieces.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew This night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you

Your voice rang out to a final deafening cheer from the crowd as the lights went dark. The show was over, and now you had to face the music.

As the venue began to empty you paced the length of the backstage area, Daniel always met you back stage after a show if he was in attendance, and as the minutes ticked by and the tulle of your dress brushed the floor with every step dread started to seep into you.

Maybe you made a mistake.

Before you could wish for the earth to swallow you whole pounding footsteps came to a sudden halt behind you. When you turned to see him he looked out of breath, like he ran to get there. His expression was unreadable and a final strike of dread sent a shiver down your spine.

This was a mistake.

Before you could say anything, before you could fumble for the words to explain yourself, make up any excuse to save your friendship from the catastrophic end that your mind was envisioning he marched up to meet you.

The kiss was unexpected, you would have thought you were dreaming but even in your dreams, Daniel never kissed you like that. It lasted what felt like forever and as you both eventually came up for air the unreadable look in his eyes suddenly became glaringly clear.

"I'm not in love with anyone but you."

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Part two as promised, This one was a lot of fun to write so I hope you enjoy.

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