Latest Posts by rex-rambles - Page 2

My Snoppy Piastri agenda 😌

next time maybe do lego racing like george said

f1 movie premiere doodles!

taglist:

@coffeehurricanes @kicoki @justaf1girl @jadelovesyou00

➤ PROUD | MAX VERSTAPPEN

pairing: max verstappen x wife! reader, kimi antonelli + max + reader (platonic)

summary: kimi gets his first podium, max finds you crying in a bathroom, and you both realize you want to start a family together

wc: 2.6 k

warnings: none! a few innuendos on max's part

➤ MASTERLIST

You had been married to Max long enough to recognize when his focus shifted. When he stopped paying attention to useless questions, when a car caught his eye, when he heard someone saying something wrong about anything, really. It was the subtlest of changes, the softest of looks, but you saw the way he turned, just slightly, when the TV in the motorhome played a clip of the rookies, talking about pressure and the reality of F1. 

He watched from the corner of his eye, his notes still in hand, so that anyone who might walk by would think he was deeply focused, and not distracted by a simple broadcast. You, however, know better.

You push off the counter of the small coffee bar, coming to take the hat from his head, and rake your hand through his hair instead. 

He smiles slightly at the action, letting his attention break to look up at you. "Do you think they miss their mums?" You ask, eyes finding the broadcast. Max would've been about their age when he started, so young, so full of dreams. You weren't that much older than them really, but it was still enough to be daunting. 

Being 18, like Kimi, was the time of little independent steps, going away to university, starting something new. Becoming a world-famous F1 driver when you're not even old enough to drink in some countries had to be quite the trip. "What?" Max responds, now turning to give the TV his full attention. "The rookies?" 

"They just look so young." Doing all this, on their own. They might have teams and managers and fellow drivers, but it had to be terrifying. "It's got to be hard, away from family like that. And on Father's Day, too." 

"I didn't miss my parents," Max says, returning to the notes in his lap as he lies. He can never look at you when he does. You never pressed about his childhood, though all you can imagine is that poor boy, charting across Europe alone to do all of these races, with all the stress. It can't be good for children, even if they are racing prodigies. "I turned out fine." 

There's a beat of silence where you don't answer, and he lets out a soft breath. 

"Fine, relatively speaking." He corrects. "Besides, with all the karting and F2 or F3, they're used to travel." 

"Even when they're still in school, poor things." Max glances back at the TV as the clip of Isack hugging Lewis's dad plays, and your heart dislodges in your chest. That's a lot of pressure, something that never goes away with F1, or at least you've never seen it leave Max. He was becoming a beacon for the rookies, maybe because of it. He probably knew better than anyone how to handle that sort of pressure, the lifestyle change. 

Someone walks by, cutting through the moment, and you and Max just look at each other as you wait for them to leave. There was so much more to be said on this kind of topic, specifically behind closed doors, but there was more than just Max being a good mentor that played into it. Finally, the person leaves, and Max returns to his notes. "If you're worried about their education, you could help them with their homework." 

"Maybe I can cook them a nice meal. You can have them over." Max laughs, then, getting up from his chair to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you close to him. The move startles you, so quick and so in public, but you lived for these stolen moments. Max was always like this when he knew no one could see. Little bursts of energy, the hidden romance that was best protected when others weren't around. You didn't mind by now, really. You'd rather your kisses be private than spread across Instagram. "What?" 

"You are something else," He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Worry about me for a change, hm? Where's my home cooked meals?" 

"They're a treat for when you win," You say as you press a quick kiss to his lips before finally pushing away. The last thing you needed was some photographer walking in on you two. "So go lose, yeah? Saves me from having to do the dishes." 

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he prepares to go, and you're struck by a feeling you can't quite describe. It's a strange sort of love that twists in your gut, almost complete but not quite. Loving Max was always just a full-bodied feeling, that some small part of it missing was obvious. It wasn't nerves, though the butterflies still came out as he raced, as he battled for second place. 

It wasn't anger, or concern, or sadness, no strange emotion you couldn't place. Instead, it just felt like you were waiting for the last piece to click into place, even if you didn't realize what it was. Max gets second, and the win doesn't really fix it either, though you're happy he placed well. He probably wasn't the most enthused at George's first, but then, as the racers settle, you realize who came in third: 

Kimi. 

Little Kimi, with his homework and the pressure and now, you realize as you watch the nearby Mercedes garage, without his parents. 

That must be awful, you find yourself thinking as your heart sinks further into your stomach. What a race to miss, to have no one there to celebrate. The big screens catch your eye as you see Max approach Kimi, and for a moment, the world pauses as Max pulls him into a quick hug that feels like it might last forever. 

That's the missing piece, you think. 

Max had always been so good with kids. Whether his little nieces or nephews, or teenagers like Kimi, he had a way with them. He was patient, and funny, and kind, and welcoming. He was saying something to Kimi as your visions swims before you, a mix of emotions that truly catch you by surprise. 

It's pride, and heartbreak, and knowing. 

That could be your son someday. Maybe he had just done well on a test, or won a competition, you didn't care, and Max was hugging him like a father would. You turn back toward the Red Bull garage's bathroom, quick to try to calm yourself, but it's no use. 

Max would make a fantastic father one day, and for the very first time, you realize that's something you can pursue. 

-

There was something going on with you lately. Max hadn't really had too much time to notice it, with the triple headers and your work schedule, but you were just...softer. Not in a bad way, and not in a way he'd ever vocalize, but you were just so utterly irresistible and sweet. He didn't want to get out of bed, didn't want to leave your side, didn't even mind hearing you talk about ridiculous things like rookies being lonely and the best parks near his apartment. 

But there was something brewing under the surface, and he didn't really know what. 

Then again, he also just got 2nd place, and you're not at the barrier to greet him, so he doesn't really have time to focus on that either. He chalks it up to the crowds crushing in to get to George and Kimi, both for George's first win of the season and Kimi's first podium, both of whom refuse to stop smiling, especially once they get to the podium platform. Even from up above, however, Max can't seem to spot you. He can always find you in a crowd, a skill he prides himself on. 

You were wearing one of his hats, and a cute little white dress, so it should be easy, but you're not with his team, not with the crowd. 

Nowhere. 

Finally, when he gets back to his driver's room, and it's empty, does he start to worry. "Have you seen-" He barely gets the word out before one of his attendants is gesturing towards the restroom with a strange expression, and Max panics at the thought of you being sick, of something being wrong, and he quickly knocks on the door. "Love? You okay?" 

"Shit, Max-" Your voice sounds hoarse and Max's heart breaks at the thought of you being sick while he was out celebrating, but when you open the door just a crack, he realizes it's something else entirely. "Sorry, sorry, I'm a mess." 

You let him into the restroom, a small space considering it's just a little side room, but that sort of invasion of each other's space had never bothered either of you. What does bother him is the tear-tracks on your cheeks, the way you laugh sadly as you try to wipe away the evidence. "What's wrong?" 

You crying is not the most uncommon sight in the world, but the last time you cried at one of his races was because he won his fourth championship title. Maybe you were crying over how poorly he was doing? Maybe something terrible happened? "The video-" 

"What video?" Max rushes out, coming to cup your face in his hands. "I swear, if anyone said anything-" 

"You hugged," You say with another soft laugh, now truly confusing him. Max tries to wrack his brain for the last time he hugged a woman that might be taken as him cheating, and then what it might take for you to have a mental break. "And his dad wasn't there." 

"What?" Then, the pieces click into place. "Kimi?" You nod, sniffing softly as you wipe at your nose with a tissue. "You're crying...because I hugged Kimi?" 

"Our little baby got his first podium." 

Our. 

Little. 

Baby. 

Oh shit. "Are you pregnant?" 

"What?" That seems to snap you from your tears, looking up at him before reaching out to smack his arm. "No! I can be emotional without being hormonal!" 

"I wasn't saying that," He soothes, though he finds himself somewhat saddened by the answer in a way he never thought he would be. "You just called him our baby." 

"He's your baby," You joke, covering your face with your hands. "He won and you hugged him, and his parents are here, and he's probably so happy I just...I can't. How could you not cry? He worked so hard!" 

Max slowly wraps his arms around you and gently rocks you, unable to stop the growing smile on his face. Only you could get emotional about another man getting on the podium. You'd probably be like this for all the rookies, he thinks. He'll need to start packing more tissues. "But you didn't come to watch." I missed you, he wants to say, but right now is not about him. 

"I didn't want anyone to see me like this and take it wrong." You say, muffled by his shoulder. "If I saw him in person I'd probably start bawling." 

"Well, you should go congratulate him if it moved you to tears." He says, somewhat teasing, somewhat not. It was a very big thing for Kimi to finally get on the podium, and you were right. He worked hard to get here, taking third place in a way many other drivers couldn't currently. 

Maybe crying over it was a bit much, but being proud? That was understandable. "Give me your sunglasses." 

"Anything for you," He says, reluctantly pulling the sunglasses he'd hung on his shirt collar and handing them out to you. You walk, then, hand in hand through the garages before reaching Mercedes, which Max realizes is somewhat enemy territory, but for you, he doesn't mind. Kimi is off to the side to take pictures with some of the mechanics, all beaming ear to ear, and he hears you sniff beside him. "Hey, Kimi." 

Kimi looks up with a grin, and you offer a small wave. "I just wanted to come congratulate you," You say, and Kimi immediately goes in for a hug, which somehow makes Max more emotional as he watches it. 

That's the missing piece, he thinks, what he wasn't getting about the tears.

You were always so good with kids. Whether Max's own nieces or nephews, or teenagers like Kimi, you were always so good with them. Even now, Kimi sinks into your arms like you're his mother, like it was the kind of hug he needed. You already were so patient with Max, you had to be with children, so warm and honest and welcoming. Kimi could be your kid someday, maybe after having a hard day, or maybe after a good one, just needing comfort. 

You would be an incredible mom someday, and as Max had said earlier, he'd do anything for you. A little baby, clad in Red Bull gear, with his hair colour and your eyes, it would be perfect. 

Anything you make would be perfect. "I'm so proud." You say as you pull back. "Your parents must be so proud! Third! You're first podium!" 

"You're going to make me cry," Kimi sniffs, and Max watches your bottom lip tremble. "No, no, don't cry too!" 

"Alright, alright." Max wraps his arm around you, pulling you into his side. "Both of you." 

"Emotions are meant to be felt!" You say stubbornly, a reminder Max has had to hear plenty of times. You had never made him feel guilty when he got angry, never made him feel like he couldn't be sad. It was the sort of thing a parent should have said to him as a kid, the sort of thing that would make you a fantastic parent now. 

"You know what they call you?" Kimi says, more to Max than you. "Mother Hen. Now you are Mother and Father Hen." 

You tense in Max's arm, and he softly laughs. "We're adopting him." You state bluntly, looking up to Max. "Can we adopt all of them?" 

"Bit late to adopt, I think." He says, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. "We'll just have to make our own." 

"Hey!" Kimi says, hands flying to his ears like an actual kid as he laughs.

"You can be our babysitter," Max continues, reaching out to shake hands with the boy, who happily shakes it back. You, on the other hand, are shooting Max a rather strange look. "What? It'll be good for him to have a normal job for once." 

"We can all take turns," Kimi agrees eagerly. "Ollie and I-" 

You finally laugh, shaking your head as you take a step back, and Max doesn't blame you. Those boys probably got into more strange situations than Max did at that age, which is saying something. "There is no way both you and Ollie are looking after them. That is a recipe for disaster waiting to happen." 

"What's a disaster waiting to happen?" George asks, and now it's Max's turn to tense. He was very good at being civil, good at hiding it too, but that didn't cut the tension in the air.

"Ollie and Kimi babysitting for us." You answer for him, head coming to lean back against Max's shoulder in an attempt to soothe him. It's the sort of admissions that would make headlines if it got out, but considering what Max was planning on tonight?

Probably wasn't too early to announce the baby.

"Babysitting?" George echoes, shocked. "Are you expecting?" 

"Not currently," Max says before he can help it. "Give it about nine months." 

"Max!" Your face flushes red, smacking at his arm, and he takes it as his cue to leave. "You are unbelievable!" 

"Congratulations, Kimi." Max says as he leads you away, trying hard not to laugh as both Kimi and George exchange looks. "George." 

You wave goodbye, turning around to look at them, and Max keeps his arm around your waist to drag you backwards. "You both did so well! You better celebrate tonight."

"I think you are celebrating enough for the both of us." Kimi answers, and George turns on him like a scandalized mother.

You laugh as you turn back around, and Max finds that he missed the sound. You crying was easily one of the things he hated most in this world, meaning your laugh is one of the things he loved the most.

Your hand slips into his, offering a squeeze. Only when you're finally out of earshot, the rest of the crews and the microphones and the eavesdroppers hidden away, do you tug harder on Max's hand, drawing his attention. "Do you mean that? About starting a family?" 

"Like I said, anything for you." Then, after a beat, "We're not naming our kid Kimi." 

"I know," You answer, leaning up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "I was thinking George." 

a/n: KIMI PODIUM! didn't realize i was a kimi fan until i genuinely got emotional at seeing him come third.

➤ PROUD | MAX VERSTAPPEN

pairing: max verstappen x wife! reader, kimi antonelli + max + reader (platonic)

summary: kimi gets his first podium, max finds you crying in a bathroom, and you both realize you want to start a family together

wc: 2.6 k

warnings: none! a few innuendos on max's part

➤ MASTERLIST

You had been married to Max long enough to recognize when his focus shifted. When he stopped paying attention to useless questions, when a car caught his eye, when he heard someone saying something wrong about anything, really. It was the subtlest of changes, the softest of looks, but you saw the way he turned, just slightly, when the TV in the motorhome played a clip of the rookies, talking about pressure and the reality of F1. 

He watched from the corner of his eye, his notes still in hand, so that anyone who might walk by would think he was deeply focused, and not distracted by a simple broadcast. You, however, know better.

You push off the counter of the small coffee bar, coming to take the hat from his head, and rake your hand through his hair instead. 

He smiles slightly at the action, letting his attention break to look up at you. "Do you think they miss their mums?" You ask, eyes finding the broadcast. Max would've been about their age when he started, so young, so full of dreams. You weren't that much older than them really, but it was still enough to be daunting. 

Being 18, like Kimi, was the time of little independent steps, going away to university, starting something new. Becoming a world-famous F1 driver when you're not even old enough to drink in some countries had to be quite the trip. "What?" Max responds, now turning to give the TV his full attention. "The rookies?" 

"They just look so young." Doing all this, on their own. They might have teams and managers and fellow drivers, but it had to be terrifying. "It's got to be hard, away from family like that. And on Father's Day, too." 

"I didn't miss my parents," Max says, returning to the notes in his lap as he lies. He can never look at you when he does. You never pressed about his childhood, though all you can imagine is that poor boy, charting across Europe alone to do all of these races, with all the stress. It can't be good for children, even if they are racing prodigies. "I turned out fine." 

There's a beat of silence where you don't answer, and he lets out a soft breath. 

"Fine, relatively speaking." He corrects. "Besides, with all the karting and F2 or F3, they're used to travel." 

"Even when they're still in school, poor things." Max glances back at the TV as the clip of Isack hugging Lewis's dad plays, and your heart dislodges in your chest. That's a lot of pressure, something that never goes away with F1, or at least you've never seen it leave Max. He was becoming a beacon for the rookies, maybe because of it. He probably knew better than anyone how to handle that sort of pressure, the lifestyle change. 

Someone walks by, cutting through the moment, and you and Max just look at each other as you wait for them to leave. There was so much more to be said on this kind of topic, specifically behind closed doors, but there was more than just Max being a good mentor that played into it. Finally, the person leaves, and Max returns to his notes. "If you're worried about their education, you could help them with their homework." 

"Maybe I can cook them a nice meal. You can have them over." Max laughs, then, getting up from his chair to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you close to him. The move startles you, so quick and so in public, but you lived for these stolen moments. Max was always like this when he knew no one could see. Little bursts of energy, the hidden romance that was best protected when others weren't around. You didn't mind by now, really. You'd rather your kisses be private than spread across Instagram. "What?" 

"You are something else," He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Worry about me for a change, hm? Where's my home cooked meals?" 

"They're a treat for when you win," You say as you press a quick kiss to his lips before finally pushing away. The last thing you needed was some photographer walking in on you two. "So go lose, yeah? Saves me from having to do the dishes." 

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he prepares to go, and you're struck by a feeling you can't quite describe. It's a strange sort of love that twists in your gut, almost complete but not quite. Loving Max was always just a full-bodied feeling, that some small part of it missing was obvious. It wasn't nerves, though the butterflies still came out as he raced, as he battled for second place. 

It wasn't anger, or concern, or sadness, no strange emotion you couldn't place. Instead, it just felt like you were waiting for the last piece to click into place, even if you didn't realize what it was. Max gets second, and the win doesn't really fix it either, though you're happy he placed well. He probably wasn't the most enthused at George's first, but then, as the racers settle, you realize who came in third: 

Kimi. 

Little Kimi, with his homework and the pressure and now, you realize as you watch the nearby Mercedes garage, without his parents. 

That must be awful, you find yourself thinking as your heart sinks further into your stomach. What a race to miss, to have no one there to celebrate. The big screens catch your eye as you see Max approach Kimi, and for a moment, the world pauses as Max pulls him into a quick hug that feels like it might last forever. 

That's the missing piece, you think. 

Max had always been so good with kids. Whether his little nieces or nephews, or teenagers like Kimi, he had a way with them. He was patient, and funny, and kind, and welcoming. He was saying something to Kimi as your visions swims before you, a mix of emotions that truly catch you by surprise. 

It's pride, and heartbreak, and knowing. 

That could be your son someday. Maybe he had just done well on a test, or won a competition, you didn't care, and Max was hugging him like a father would. You turn back toward the Red Bull garage's bathroom, quick to try to calm yourself, but it's no use. 

Max would make a fantastic father one day, and for the very first time, you realize that's something you can pursue. 

-

There was something going on with you lately. Max hadn't really had too much time to notice it, with the triple headers and your work schedule, but you were just...softer. Not in a bad way, and not in a way he'd ever vocalize, but you were just so utterly irresistible and sweet. He didn't want to get out of bed, didn't want to leave your side, didn't even mind hearing you talk about ridiculous things like rookies being lonely and the best parks near his apartment. 

But there was something brewing under the surface, and he didn't really know what. 

Then again, he also just got 2nd place, and you're not at the barrier to greet him, so he doesn't really have time to focus on that either. He chalks it up to the crowds crushing in to get to George and Kimi, both for George's first win of the season and Kimi's first podium, both of whom refuse to stop smiling, especially once they get to the podium platform. Even from up above, however, Max can't seem to spot you. He can always find you in a crowd, a skill he prides himself on. 

You were wearing one of his hats, and a cute little white dress, so it should be easy, but you're not with his team, not with the crowd. 

Nowhere. 

Finally, when he gets back to his driver's room, and it's empty, does he start to worry. "Have you seen-" He barely gets the word out before one of his attendants is gesturing towards the restroom with a strange expression, and Max panics at the thought of you being sick, of something being wrong, and he quickly knocks on the door. "Love? You okay?" 

"Shit, Max-" Your voice sounds hoarse and Max's heart breaks at the thought of you being sick while he was out celebrating, but when you open the door just a crack, he realizes it's something else entirely. "Sorry, sorry, I'm a mess." 

You let him into the restroom, a small space considering it's just a little side room, but that sort of invasion of each other's space had never bothered either of you. What does bother him is the tear-tracks on your cheeks, the way you laugh sadly as you try to wipe away the evidence. "What's wrong?" 

You crying is not the most uncommon sight in the world, but the last time you cried at one of his races was because he won his fourth championship title. Maybe you were crying over how poorly he was doing? Maybe something terrible happened? "The video-" 

"What video?" Max rushes out, coming to cup your face in his hands. "I swear, if anyone said anything-" 

"You hugged," You say with another soft laugh, now truly confusing him. Max tries to wrack his brain for the last time he hugged a woman that might be taken as him cheating, and then what it might take for you to have a mental break. "And his dad wasn't there." 

"What?" Then, the pieces click into place. "Kimi?" You nod, sniffing softly as you wipe at your nose with a tissue. "You're crying...because I hugged Kimi?" 

"Our little baby got his first podium." 

Our. 

Little. 

Baby. 

Oh shit. "Are you pregnant?" 

"What?" That seems to snap you from your tears, looking up at him before reaching out to smack his arm. "No! I can be emotional without being hormonal!" 

"I wasn't saying that," He soothes, though he finds himself somewhat saddened by the answer in a way he never thought he would be. "You just called him our baby." 

"He's your baby," You joke, covering your face with your hands. "He won and you hugged him, and his parents are here, and he's probably so happy I just...I can't. How could you not cry? He worked so hard!" 

Max slowly wraps his arms around you and gently rocks you, unable to stop the growing smile on his face. Only you could get emotional about another man getting on the podium. You'd probably be like this for all the rookies, he thinks. He'll need to start packing more tissues. "But you didn't come to watch." I missed you, he wants to say, but right now is not about him. 

"I didn't want anyone to see me like this and take it wrong." You say, muffled by his shoulder. "If I saw him in person I'd probably start bawling." 

"Well, you should go congratulate him if it moved you to tears." He says, somewhat teasing, somewhat not. It was a very big thing for Kimi to finally get on the podium, and you were right. He worked hard to get here, taking third place in a way many other drivers couldn't currently. 

Maybe crying over it was a bit much, but being proud? That was understandable. "Give me your sunglasses." 

"Anything for you," He says, reluctantly pulling the sunglasses he'd hung on his shirt collar and handing them out to you. You walk, then, hand in hand through the garages before reaching Mercedes, which Max realizes is somewhat enemy territory, but for you, he doesn't mind. Kimi is off to the side to take pictures with some of the mechanics, all beaming ear to ear, and he hears you sniff beside him. "Hey, Kimi." 

Kimi looks up with a grin, and you offer a small wave. "I just wanted to come congratulate you," You say, and Kimi immediately goes in for a hug, which somehow makes Max more emotional as he watches it. 

That's the missing piece, he thinks, what he wasn't getting about the tears.

You were always so good with kids. Whether Max's own nieces or nephews, or teenagers like Kimi, you were always so good with them. Even now, Kimi sinks into your arms like you're his mother, like it was the kind of hug he needed. You already were so patient with Max, you had to be with children, so warm and honest and welcoming. Kimi could be your kid someday, maybe after having a hard day, or maybe after a good one, just needing comfort. 

You would be an incredible mom someday, and as Max had said earlier, he'd do anything for you. A little baby, clad in Red Bull gear, with his hair colour and your eyes, it would be perfect. 

Anything you make would be perfect. "I'm so proud." You say as you pull back. "Your parents must be so proud! Third! You're first podium!" 

"You're going to make me cry," Kimi sniffs, and Max watches your bottom lip tremble. "No, no, don't cry too!" 

"Alright, alright." Max wraps his arm around you, pulling you into his side. "Both of you." 

"Emotions are meant to be felt!" You say stubbornly, a reminder Max has had to hear plenty of times. You had never made him feel guilty when he got angry, never made him feel like he couldn't be sad. It was the sort of thing a parent should have said to him as a kid, the sort of thing that would make you a fantastic parent now. 

"You know what they call you?" Kimi says, more to Max than you. "Mother Hen. Now you are Mother and Father Hen." 

You tense in Max's arm, and he softly laughs. "We're adopting him." You state bluntly, looking up to Max. "Can we adopt all of them?" 

"Bit late to adopt, I think." He says, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. "We'll just have to make our own." 

"Hey!" Kimi says, hands flying to his ears like an actual kid as he laughs.

"You can be our babysitter," Max continues, reaching out to shake hands with the boy, who happily shakes it back. You, on the other hand, are shooting Max a rather strange look. "What? It'll be good for him to have a normal job for once." 

"We can all take turns," Kimi agrees eagerly. "Ollie and I-" 

You finally laugh, shaking your head as you take a step back, and Max doesn't blame you. Those boys probably got into more strange situations than Max did at that age, which is saying something. "There is no way both you and Ollie are looking after them. That is a recipe for disaster waiting to happen." 

"What's a disaster waiting to happen?" George asks, and now it's Max's turn to tense. He was very good at being civil, good at hiding it too, but that didn't cut the tension in the air.

"Ollie and Kimi babysitting for us." You answer for him, head coming to lean back against Max's shoulder in an attempt to soothe him. It's the sort of admissions that would make headlines if it got out, but considering what Max was planning on tonight?

Probably wasn't too early to announce the baby.

"Babysitting?" George echoes, shocked. "Are you expecting?" 

"Not currently," Max says before he can help it. "Give it about nine months." 

"Max!" Your face flushes red, smacking at his arm, and he takes it as his cue to leave. "You are unbelievable!" 

"Congratulations, Kimi." Max says as he leads you away, trying hard not to laugh as both Kimi and George exchange looks. "George." 

You wave goodbye, turning around to look at them, and Max keeps his arm around your waist to drag you backwards. "You both did so well! You better celebrate tonight."

"I think you are celebrating enough for the both of us." Kimi answers, and George turns on him like a scandalized mother.

You laugh as you turn back around, and Max finds that he missed the sound. You crying was easily one of the things he hated most in this world, meaning your laugh is one of the things he loved the most.

Your hand slips into his, offering a squeeze. Only when you're finally out of earshot, the rest of the crews and the microphones and the eavesdroppers hidden away, do you tug harder on Max's hand, drawing his attention. "Do you mean that? About starting a family?" 

"Like I said, anything for you." Then, after a beat, "We're not naming our kid Kimi." 

"I know," You answer, leaning up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "I was thinking George." 

a/n: KIMI PODIUM! didn't realize i was a kimi fan until i genuinely got emotional at seeing him come third.

f1 grid fic recs

———————————— 🏎️🏎️ ————————————

one shots

about you - @tsunodaradio

“choose your own adventure ft. alex, lando, george”

headcannons

pranked - @mywritersmind

“you pranking your boyfriend for april fools day!!”

the grid: can you fight? - @no-144444

miss possessive - @tsunodaradio

“dating a driver is not for the faint of heart. when they've got millions of eyes on them—well, you can't be blamed if you're a little possessive, can you?”

it’s true love - @yuramour

“f1 grid as different romance tropes pairing”

first day - @clara-a7

“you're the new journalist in the paddock, and every driver is discreetly surprised by your confident charm”

eat! - @jungwnies

“aggressively serving your f1 partner food and waiting for their reaction”

i’m so hungry i could eat a… - @jungwnies

“the tik-tok, "i'm so hungry i could eat a..." trend”

series

pancakes - @saintescuderia

“the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n”

smau / text au

f1 uni series - @livwritessometimes

driver gets called dad/daddy by the reader's kid for the first time - @anonf1writer

reader’s kid steals their phone to text the driver - @anonf1writer

selfie? - @rex-rambles

“i’ve seen a bunch of 'you asking the drivers for a selfie', but what about the f1 drivers wanting a picture from you?”

bf! f1 after you introduce them as a friend - @hello-car-fandom

trying the catherine method on bf! f1 - @hello-car-fandom

you post a story dressed up - @landoughnut

aussie - @hugleclerc

“mark webber's daughter first appearance at a gp as an adult makes everyone go crazy, even the drivers”

diaries of a nepo baby - @ham1lton

oblivious - @rex-rambles

“the f1 drivers make the mistake of saying they're always aware of their surroundings, so you start an Instagram account to prove them wrong...by seeing how long it takes them to realize you're taking photos of them”

sinners - @rex-rambles

“you've got a new film coming out, and while the f1 grid is more than happy to support you, they're in for a surprise when they watch a certain scene (inspired by that one scene in sinners, you know what I'm talking about)”

*these are part of my fic rec masterlist, please note none of these are written by me and the author of each story had been tagged! check out my f1 fic rec masterlist for other drivers!*

post race win celebratory chocolate milk. drink of champions

why am I scrolling . What am I hoping to find

why am i lowkey emotional about kimi...our little baby finally got on podium!!!

ON THE PODIUM WITH MAMA

editing is so funny because it's like "damn, i wrote 'before' two times within three paragraphs. they are going to stone me in the town square for this"

Crazy graphic

smoking these hadjoints like crazy

taglist:

@coffeehurricanes @kicoki @justaf1girl @jadelovesyou00

➤ UNWRITTEN | DANIEL RICCIARDO

pairing: daniel ricciardo x partner!reader

summary: you and daniel have an unwritten rule: when either of you has a bad day, you play a certain song to brighten the mood. 

or: 2 times daniel forces you to sing to 'unwritten' by natasha bedingfield, and the one time you force him to.

warnings: none!

➤ MASTERLIST

1. 

It starts with Daniel, a red-eye flight, and your lost luggage. You honestly don't remember what Grand Prix you were coming back from, or how long you'd been awake, but it was about 4 AM at the Sydney airport as you waited for your suitcase to come. It was eaten by the airplane, spat out over New Zealand maybe, but it wasn't at the carousel, and the longer you waited, the more delirious you felt. 

"Come on," Daniel teases as you try not to glare daggers his way. "It's one suitcase. They'll find it, return it, it's no big deal." 

"Unless they lose it forever! My favourite shoes were in there. All of your merch was in there, too." The hats, the jackets, everything you tried to cycle through the race weekend to support him. 

"I can buy you more." The radio changes from some crackling speaker above, and Daniel starts to hum along to the song as you drop your head into your hands. The attendant had told you to wait here until they got word of where it was, apparently able to trace it through some system, but it felt like you were dying. 

You were tired, you were hungry, everything hurt, the lights were too bright, and Daniel too much energy for such an early hour. Despite all those complaints, however, Daniel didn't seem too bothered. In fact, as you spare a glance up, you watch him begin to dance along to the song, the sight of which forcing you to smile, even if you really, truly, do not feel like smiling. 

"I got you." Daniel says, spinning around in a circle. "Can't be sad when I'm dancing, right?" 

"You're ridiculous." The few other people left in the airport begin to stare, but Daniel had never really cared about the eyes on him - he thrived on attention, and tonight, or you suppose this morning, was no different. 

"Staring at the blank page before you, open up the dirty window, let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find!" He sings, shimmying forward to grab your hands, pulling you to stand, and you flush as he tries to spin you around. 

His kind of happiness was infectious, but it didn't stop you from being self-conscious. "Danny, come on." 

"Release your inhibitions," The song times perfectly, Daniel singing along with it, "Feel the rain on your skin!" 

Reluctantly, you let him spin you, and he takes your hands as he pushes you back and then pulls you in, making up dance moves as he goes. He beams down at you at you finally begin to laugh, and for a moment, the lost luggage, the late night, it all disappears, because he's here holding you, dancing like no one's watching, and it's one of the many little things that made you fall for him in the first place.

Only Daniel would turn a miserable morning into a dance in the middle of an airport. "Come on, sing along!" 

"You are ridiculous!" Daniel waits, hands planted on your waist to keep you still until you listen to him. "Dancing is ridiculous enough right now." 

"Live your life with arms wide open," Daniel continues, gently squeezing your waist to try and get a reaction out of you. "Today is where your books being, the rest-" 

"Is still unwritten." You finally sing along, and Daniel dips you, happily pressing a kiss to your lips before righting you again. He cackles happily, keeping his arms wrapped around you as he then manages to sweep you off your feet, spinning you around. 

"There you go!" He finally sets you down, and you slump back into your seat with a huff. "The rest is still unwritten, so don't worry about your luggage. Live for the moment, feel the rain on your skin." 

You extend a hand to him, and he takes it, a mistaken place to put his trust. You pull him down, and he collides roughly with the bench beside you, though he doesn't stop laughing. "That's what you get for being a menace at this hour of the morning." 

"Eh, you love it." He says, and you can't argue with that, so you press a kiss to his cheek. "You can't be mad with Unwritten playing, it's just a fact." 

"Really?" Daniel nods happily, still humming along to the song, and you just shake your head. "Next time you have a bad race, I'm playing it." 

2. 

You had waited for this vacation with Daniel for forever. It was a sunny beach, far away from the world of Formula One and prying eyes, from your own work and concerns. You intended to spend the week in the sand, or at the tropical bar, and the day you arrive, it rains like nothing you've ever seen before. 

Stuck in your bungalow, you stare wistfully out the window as the second day passes, the rain letting up, but still drizzling down. It wasn't calming, wasn't relaxing, it was you, trapped in a room with Daniel. For a much lower cost, you could've done the exact thing at home, and the weather in Australia was probably that much better.

You try not to sulk as you return to your book in your lap, but with a long sigh, it seems even your moping has got the worst of Daniel, a hard task for someone who radiated sunshine wherever they went. "That's enough." He says as he stands, coming over to you. You expect him to complain or propose something for you to do, but instead, he bends down to pick you up bridal-style, and you gasp as your book topples from your hands and down onto the couch. 

"Daniel!" He marches you both over to the door of the bungalow, and out onto the beach, and you smack at his shoulder as the rain immediately begins to soak the both of you. 

"I refuse to let rain make you grumpy." He sets you down and pulls out his phone, tucking it onto the front step of the bungalow so as to not get too wet, and he cranks the volume. "So, I think it's time you felt some rain on your skin." 

"I swear-" And, sure enough, Unwritten begins to play. You stare at him in awe as he begins to dance again, throwing his arms out to spin in the rain like it wasn't the most absurd thing you've ever seen, and you decide not to wait to join in this time. You grab one of his hands and spin him yourself as he laughs heartily, that big, infectious grin spreading across his face as you move him about. 

You take the lead, pulling him in as you wrap your arms around his neck, and he easily wraps his around your waist, swaying to the song as he begins to sing. "No one else, no one else, can speak the words on your lips." He pulls you in for a kiss, and you let him, despite the rain that's getting you soaked to the bone. 

"You know, I think the airport might have been better than this." You say against his lips, and he pouts, pulling back to shake his head, spraying you with water as he does so. 

"I am on a tropical beach, in the pouring rain, with the love of my life." The admission does something strange to your heart, staring up at Daniel as the world slows, even if the rain doesn't. "Doesn't get much better than this." 

Perhaps, in a more serious moment, you'd kiss him senseless or return the sentiment, but for now, you choose to bury your face in the side of his neck as you grin. "You are such a sap." 

"Hey, I am staring at the blank page before me, opening up the dirty window, and letting the sun illuminate the words I cannot find." He parodies from the lyrics. "And I think you need to release your inhibitions and feel the rain on your skin." 

"Oh, I am feeling the rain on my skin." You pull him in for another kiss, dance moves forgotten as he presses against you, hot and heavy despite the chill that comes with the rain. Your hands glide into his hair as his head dips, gently kissing along your jaw and then down your neck. 

"No one else can feel this for you." 

"Oh, no one else better be feeling you like this." You taunt, and Daniel nips your neck teasingly as you gasp, before he finally pulls away. 

"You don't have to worry about that," He says, "I don't think anyone else would put up with things like this. I'm so lucky that you don't care." 

"I do care! I just happen to love you enough that it's going to take more than some rain and that stupid song to really get me going." Daniel seemed to know how to push all your buttons, without pushing you over the edge, the right kind of annoying and adorable that made him hard to resist, even when he was hard to be around. "Which, speaking of, my clothes and hair are ruined from this." 

"Oh yeah?" 

"Mhm. Going to need to shower and change to fix it." You say, walking back up the steps to the bungalow and lounging in the doorway. "But I'm sure you're too busy singing to help me out with that." 

"Oh hell no." He grabs his phone from the step and bounds up the stairs, happily helping you into the bungalow as he wraps his arms around your waist. "I've got some unwritten things I wouldn't mind doing with you." 

"That's what I thought." 

3. 

Things were not going well for Daniel, that much was obvious. Apparently, his seat was up for negotiations, he hadn't been on the podium in weeks, and something was wrong with the car that no one else seemed to notice. You took his word on everything, trying to support him the best you could, but some days it felt like bad luck, like a curse hanging over him. 

What was once all smiles was almost tears. What was once happy celebrations, champagne, and parties was now desperation, late nights spent working out, checking in with mechanics, doing everything he could to get it right. 

And standing in the paddock, watching him almost spin out on the monitor, you knew today wasn't any better. It was a hard thing to fathom, seeing Daniel struggle over what he loved, but there was nothing you could do from here. You couldn't magically make his car any better, couldn't give him a hug and hold him tight, like how he did on your bad days. 

You couldn't force him to dance or sing. And then, sparing a glance over to the radio, the thought strikes you that maybe, just maybe, you could make him sing. 

You could release his inhibitions, you think with a growing smile, make him feel the rain on his skin. Payback, for the airport, and the rain, but that wasn't really payback. You were giving Daniel what he'd always given you, and that was something to smile about. You're quick to move over to the radio, his race engineering offering a strange look. "Do you have anything important to tell Daniel?" You ask, and the man shakes his head. "Can I speak to him, then?" 

"I don't know if that's a good idea." He says, and one of the mechanics glances over, offering a sympathetic look. 

"It might be his last race," The mechanic says, the words ringing in your ears. "It could be a nice send-off." 

This will not be Daniel's last race, you determine as you put the headset on and adjust the mic. This is just the beginning, the ending unplanned. "Danny?" Your voice crackles over the radio, and you wait patiently for him to respond. 

"What the-" There's a brief moment of static over the headset. "Sweetheart, what are you doing on the radio?" Daniel asks, and you realize this might be recorded, broadcast out to others, but you don't care, not when the cameras turn to you, not when Daniel needs you. 

"I think you need to feel the rain on your skin." You begin with, much to the confusion of everyone, considering the clear skies, but Daniel is laughing on the other end, and you can hear the smile on his face. 

"You're an idiot! You can't be serious." He says, and you watch on the monitor as he nears another driver. 

"Oh, I'm so serious. Staring at the blank page before you-" You try not to be embarrassed, singing the opening line, but Daniel is happily finishing it for you. 

"Open up the dirty window, let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find!" His singing is not quite right, considering the power he's exerting, but it's working. He just barely manages to get a pass on the driver as you cheer, jumping up and down with your hands clasped over the headset to keep it on your head. "Reaching for something in the distance, so close you can almost taste it, release your inhibitions! What, you're not going to sing it with me any more?" 

You can't answer as you hold your breath, watching another car ahead of him spin out onto the grass. He has a chance at this, you think. A couple more positions, and he's in third. "You've got this, Danny." 

"You don't know," He grunts out, taking another corner wide. "The rest is still unwritten." 

You take off the headset and hand it back to the engineer, who stares at you as if you've grown two heads. "Long story," You try to explain, and they just offer a grin before returning to their post. You're not sure if you can look at the screen, watching him this close to his first podium in a long time, but by the time you drag your eyes back to the big screen, another car has made a pit stop, and he's ahead. 

"What was all that?" The mechanic asks, the group turning to look at you. "That his new thing now, like Carlos and Smooth Operator?" 

"Maybe?" It was your thing. It was a way to make each other smile, even when you didn't feel like it, even in the strangest of situations. "I just-" A cheer erupts from behind you, and you watch in awe as Daniel, with seconds to spare, pushes past a driver and into third place, and all hell breaks loose in the paddock. 

You're sprinting towards the parc fermé, cackling with laughter as you go, because you're never going to let him forget this. His silly little thing to cheer you up brought him to third place. He might be the driver, but Unwritten? Unwritten is what must have pushed him over. Daniel stands on top of his car when you reach the barrier, helmet off and propped on one hip as he happily raises a fist in the air. 

You don't have much time to cheer for him, however, before he spots you and is immediately rushing across the track to you, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he's kissing you, and it's sweaty and gross but it's Daniel, in third place, and you'd can't quite argue with that. "You," He says against your lips, barely heard over the crowd around you, "Are an idiot." 

"I told you I'd use that song on you when you're having a bad race." You try and smooth out his hair, but the curls have decided to point in every which direction. "Thought you could use a little pick-me-up, and it worked." 

"The song isn't what made me place third," He says, and you roll your eyes. 

"I know, it's your strength and determination as a driver-" 

"It's you." You blink at him, and he laughs softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I think I need to hire you as my engineer, get to listen to you sing to me every race." 

It's you. 

It's a simple admission, really, but it makes you blush nonetheless, trying to think of anything to say after that. Someone calls his name and Daniel turns, staring at the cameras and reporters waiting to talk to him after such a comeback, and you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. "I think you might actually lose if you do that," You tease softly, "But I'll be here whenever you need me." 

"Or whenever I need to feel the rain on my skin." He says with a dramatic wink before walking off, and all you can think is how much you love him as he begins to dance as he walks off, fully returning to belt out the lyrics as everyone looks on in confusion. 

-

-

-

+1

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" The DJ calls over the crowd, clearing the dancefloor. "It's time for the first dance, so if I could have the lovely couple make their way to the dancefloor?" 

"I hope you know how much trust I've put in you for this," You say softly as Daniel leads you to the floor, or you suppose patch of grass designated as the dancefloor. Daniel, for all the wedding planning, had very few requests, one of which being he got to pick the first dance song. Knowing Daniel, it wasn't a hard thing to give over, considering his good music taste for the most part, but it was still worrying, especially with how he hadn't stopped smiling at you. 

You suppose it's normal for a groom to smile at his partner on their wedding day, but something felt off. "And trust me, it's worth it." 

"This song is one that Daniel has loved for some time now, which I think is pretty obvious from his radios!" Those on his team laugh, and it dawns on you slowly what the song might be. "But did you know it's actually a song these two sing together, quite often?" 

"Daniel Joseph Ricciardo." You state bluntly as Unwritten starts up over the speaker, and rather than goofily spinning you around, he plants his hands on your hips as your arms wrap around his neck. "Are you serious?" 

"What, do you not like it?" Then, slightly quieter so only you hear, "Do you actually not like it? I can change it, I just thought-" 

You lean up to press a quick kiss to his lips, cutting him off before pulling back. The crowd hoots in response. "You're ridiculous," You say softly, swaying along to the beat with a growing smile. "But it's perfect." 

"Thank god," He breathes out, extending an arm to spin you around, "Thought I fucked up there for a second." 

"Reaching for something in the distance," The crowd sings in unison, a cacophony of what you can only describe as love as you find yourself back in Daniel's arms "So close you can almost taste it!" 

"This is what you've been hiding from me?" You tease, allowing yourself to not sing along for once to rather focus on his moment. 

"It's our song," Daniel states softly, "Or at least it's the song that always makes me think of you." 

It really does. Every time you hear it, all you can picture is Daniel, making a fool of himself for you. "And lost airport luggage, and rain on vacations-" 

"It makes me happy, like you make me happy." Daniel answers quietly, far more serious than you expected for this song, and his words slowly settle in your heart. "I hope you know, when you were singing that over the radio, I was so close to crying that I just had to laugh and sing along." 

"Daniel," You breathe out softly, "You never told me that." 

He tries to shrug it off, but you don't let him as you hold his stare, and he leans forward to press his forehead to yours. "Well, we're married now. Might as well start telling our secrets eventually." 

You let yourself get lost in the music for a moment, radiating all you can think of as pure joy as you hold Daniel, your stupid, wonderful, perfect husband. It's a strange thing to think, that he's yours now, but he was yours since that airport, since long before that. You were always meant to be here, dancing to some cheesy song with Daniel in your arms. 

"Live your life with arms wide open," The crowd continues, as Daniel dips you.

"Today is where our book begins," He tries to say it seriously and fails, giggling to himself before he kisses you, and you know the words he's going to say before he even pulls back. "The rest is still unwritten." 

a/n: i never watched f1 during daniel's time, and i feel like i really missed out

➤ UNWRITTEN | DANIEL RICCIARDO

pairing: daniel ricciardo x partner!reader

summary: you and daniel have an unwritten rule: when either of you has a bad day, you play a certain song to brighten the mood. 

or: 2 times daniel forces you to sing to 'unwritten' by natasha bedingfield, and the one time you force him to.

wc: 3.4 k

warnings: none!

➤ MASTERLIST

1. 

It starts with Daniel, a red-eye flight, and your lost luggage. You honestly don't remember what Grand Prix you were coming back from, or how long you'd been awake, but it was about 4 AM at the Sydney airport as you waited for your suitcase to come. It was eaten by the airplane, spat out over New Zealand maybe, but it wasn't at the carousel, and the longer you waited, the more delirious you felt. 

"Come on," Daniel teases as you try not to glare daggers his way. "It's one suitcase. They'll find it, return it, it's no big deal." 

"Unless they lose it forever! My favourite shoes were in there. All of your merch was in there, too." The hats, the jackets, everything you tried to cycle through the race weekend to support him. 

"I can buy you more." The radio changes from some crackling speaker above, and Daniel starts to hum along to the song as you drop your head into your hands. The attendant had told you to wait here until they got word of where it was, apparently able to trace it through some system, but it felt like you were dying. 

You were tired, you were hungry, everything hurt, the lights were too bright, and Daniel too much energy for such an early hour. Despite all those complaints, however, Daniel didn't seem too bothered. In fact, as you spare a glance up, you watch him begin to dance along to the song, the sight of which forcing you to smile, even if you really, truly, do not feel like smiling. 

"I got you." Daniel says, spinning around in a circle. "Can't be sad when I'm dancing, right?" 

"You're ridiculous." The few other people left in the airport begin to stare, but Daniel had never really cared about the eyes on him - he thrived on attention, and tonight, or you suppose this morning, was no different. 

"Staring at the blank page before you, open up the dirty window, let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find!" He sings, shimmying forward to grab your hands, pulling you to stand, and you flush as he tries to spin you around. 

His kind of happiness was infectious, but it didn't stop you from being self-conscious. "Danny, come on." 

"Release your inhibitions," The song times perfectly, Daniel singing along with it, "Feel the rain on your skin!" 

Reluctantly, you let him spin you, and he takes your hands as he pushes you back and then pulls you in, making up dance moves as he goes. He beams down at you at you finally begin to laugh, and for a moment, the lost luggage, the late night, it all disappears, because he's here holding you, dancing like no one's watching, and it's one of the many little things that made you fall for him in the first place.

Only Daniel would turn a miserable morning into a dance in the middle of an airport. "Come on, sing along!" 

"You are ridiculous!" Daniel waits, hands planted on your waist to keep you still until you listen to him. "Dancing is ridiculous enough right now." 

"Live your life with arms wide open," Daniel continues, gently squeezing your waist to try and get a reaction out of you. "Today is where your books being, the rest-" 

"Is still unwritten." You finally sing along, and Daniel dips you, happily pressing a kiss to your lips before righting you again. He cackles happily, keeping his arms wrapped around you as he then manages to sweep you off your feet, spinning you around. 

"There you go!" He finally sets you down, and you slump back into your seat with a huff. "The rest is still unwritten, so don't worry about your luggage. Live for the moment, feel the rain on your skin." 

You extend a hand to him, and he takes it, a mistaken place to put his trust. You pull him down, and he collides roughly with the bench beside you, though he doesn't stop laughing. "That's what you get for being a menace at this hour of the morning." 

"Eh, you love it." He says, and you can't argue with that, so you press a kiss to his cheek. "You can't be mad with Unwritten playing, it's just a fact." 

"Really?" Daniel nods happily, still humming along to the song, and you just shake your head. "Next time you have a bad race, I'm playing it." 

2. 

You had waited for this vacation with Daniel for forever. It was a sunny beach, far away from the world of Formula One and prying eyes, from your own work and concerns. You intended to spend the week in the sand, or at the tropical bar, and the day you arrive, it rains like nothing you've ever seen before. 

Stuck in your bungalow, you stare wistfully out the window as the second day passes, the rain letting up, but still drizzling down. It wasn't calming, wasn't relaxing, it was you, trapped in a room with Daniel. For a much lower cost, you could've done the exact thing at home, and the weather in Australia was probably that much better.

You try not to sulk as you return to your book in your lap, but with a long sigh, it seems even your moping has got the worst of Daniel, a hard task for someone who radiated sunshine wherever they went. "That's enough." He says as he stands, coming over to you. You expect him to complain or propose something for you to do, but instead, he bends down to pick you up bridal-style, and you gasp as your book topples from your hands and down onto the couch. 

"Daniel!" He marches you both over to the door of the bungalow, and out onto the beach, and you smack at his shoulder as the rain immediately begins to soak the both of you. 

"I refuse to let rain make you grumpy." He sets you down and pulls out his phone, tucking it onto the front step of the bungalow so as to not get too wet, and he cranks the volume. "So, I think it's time you felt some rain on your skin." 

"I swear-" And, sure enough, Unwritten begins to play. You stare at him in awe as he begins to dance again, throwing his arms out to spin in the rain like it wasn't the most absurd thing you've ever seen, and you decide not to wait to join in this time. You grab one of his hands and spin him yourself as he laughs heartily, that big, infectious grin spreading across his face as you move him about. 

You take the lead, pulling him in as you wrap your arms around his neck, and he easily wraps his around your waist, swaying to the song as he begins to sing. "No one else, no one else, can speak the words on your lips." He pulls you in for a kiss, and you let him, despite the rain that's getting you soaked to the bone. 

"You know, I think the airport might have been better than this." You say against his lips, and he pouts, pulling back to shake his head, spraying you with water as he does so. 

"I am on a tropical beach, in the pouring rain, with the love of my life." The admission does something strange to your heart, staring up at Daniel as the world slows, even if the rain doesn't. "Doesn't get much better than this." 

Perhaps, in a more serious moment, you'd kiss him senseless or return the sentiment, but for now, you choose to bury your face in the side of his neck as you grin. "You are such a sap." 

"Hey, I am staring at the blank page before me, opening up the dirty window, and letting the sun illuminate the words I cannot find." He parodies from the lyrics. "And I think you need to release your inhibitions and feel the rain on your skin." 

"Oh, I am feeling the rain on my skin." You pull him in for another kiss, dance moves forgotten as he presses against you, hot and heavy despite the chill that comes with the rain. Your hands glide into his hair as his head dips, gently kissing along your jaw and then down your neck. 

"No one else can feel this for you." 

"Oh, no one else better be feeling you like this." You taunt, and Daniel nips your neck teasingly as you gasp, before he finally pulls away. 

"You don't have to worry about that," He says, "I don't think anyone else would put up with things like this. I'm so lucky that you don't care." 

"I do care! I just happen to love you enough that it's going to take more than some rain and that stupid song to really get me going." Daniel seemed to know how to push all your buttons, without pushing you over the edge, the right kind of annoying and adorable that made him hard to resist, even when he was hard to be around. "Which, speaking of, my clothes and hair are ruined from this." 

"Oh yeah?" 

"Mhm. Going to need to shower and change to fix it." You say, walking back up the steps to the bungalow and lounging in the doorway. "But I'm sure you're too busy singing to help me out with that." 

"Oh hell no." He grabs his phone from the step and bounds up the stairs, happily helping you into the bungalow as he wraps his arms around your waist. "I've got some unwritten things I wouldn't mind doing with you." 

"That's what I thought." 

3. 

Things were not going well for Daniel, that much was obvious. Apparently, his seat was up for negotiations, he hadn't been on the podium in weeks, and something was wrong with the car that no one else seemed to notice. You took his word on everything, trying to support him the best you could, but some days it felt like bad luck, like a curse hanging over him. 

What was once all smiles was almost tears. What was once happy celebrations, champagne, and parties was now desperation, late nights spent working out, checking in with mechanics, doing everything he could to get it right. 

And standing in the paddock, watching him almost spin out on the monitor, you knew today wasn't any better. It was a hard thing to fathom, seeing Daniel struggle over what he loved, but there was nothing you could do from here. You couldn't magically make his car any better, couldn't give him a hug and hold him tight, like how he did on your bad days. 

You couldn't force him to dance or sing. And then, sparing a glance over to the radio, the thought strikes you that maybe, just maybe, you could make him sing. 

You could release his inhibitions, you think with a growing smile, make him feel the rain on his skin. Payback, for the airport, and the rain, but that wasn't really payback. You were giving Daniel what he'd always given you, and that was something to smile about. You're quick to move over to the radio, his race engineering offering a strange look. "Do you have anything important to tell Daniel?" You ask, and the man shakes his head. "Can I speak to him, then?" 

"I don't know if that's a good idea." He says, and one of the mechanics glances over, offering a sympathetic look. 

"It might be his last race," The mechanic says, the words ringing in your ears. "It could be a nice send-off." 

This will not be Daniel's last race, you determine as you put the headset on and adjust the mic. This is just the beginning, the ending unplanned. "Danny?" Your voice crackles over the radio, and you wait patiently for him to respond. 

"What the-" There's a brief moment of static over the headset. "Sweetheart, what are you doing on the radio?" Daniel asks, and you realize this might be recorded, broadcast out to others, but you don't care, not when the cameras turn to you, not when Daniel needs you. 

"I think you need to feel the rain on your skin." You begin with, much to the confusion of everyone, considering the clear skies, but Daniel is laughing on the other end, and you can hear the smile on his face. 

"You're an idiot! You can't be serious." He says, and you watch on the monitor as he nears another driver. 

"Oh, I'm so serious. Staring at the blank page before you-" You try not to be embarrassed, singing the opening line, but Daniel is happily finishing it for you. 

"Open up the dirty window, let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find!" His singing is not quite right, considering the power he's exerting, but it's working. He just barely manages to get a pass on the driver as you cheer, jumping up and down with your hands clasped over the headset to keep it on your head. "Reaching for something in the distance, so close you can almost taste it, release your inhibitions! What, you're not going to sing it with me any more?" 

You can't answer as you hold your breath, watching another car ahead of him spin out onto the grass. He has a chance at this, you think. A couple more positions, and he's in third. "You've got this, Danny." 

"You don't know," He grunts out, taking another corner wide. "The rest is still unwritten." 

You take off the headset and hand it back to the engineer, who stares at you as if you've grown two heads. "Long story," You try to explain, and they just offer a grin before returning to their post. You're not sure if you can look at the screen, watching him this close to his first podium in a long time, but by the time you drag your eyes back to the big screen, another car has made a pit stop, and he's ahead. 

"What was all that?" The mechanic asks, the group turning to look at you. "That his new thing now, like Carlos and Smooth Operator?" 

"Maybe?" It was your thing. It was a way to make each other smile, even when you didn't feel like it, even in the strangest of situations. "I just-" A cheer erupts from behind you, and you watch in awe as Daniel, with seconds to spare, pushes past a driver and into third place, and all hell breaks loose in the paddock. 

You're sprinting towards the parc fermé, cackling with laughter as you go, because you're never going to let him forget this. His silly little thing to cheer you up brought him to third place. He might be the driver, but Unwritten? Unwritten is what must have pushed him over. Daniel stands on top of his car when you reach the barrier, helmet off and propped on one hip as he happily raises a fist in the air. 

You don't have much time to cheer for him, however, before he spots you and is immediately rushing across the track to you, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he's kissing you, and it's sweaty and gross but it's Daniel, in third place, and you'd can't quite argue with that. "You," He says against your lips, barely heard over the crowd around you, "Are an idiot." 

"I told you I'd use that song on you when you're having a bad race." You try and smooth out his hair, but the curls have decided to point in every which direction. "Thought you could use a little pick-me-up, and it worked." 

"The song isn't what made me place third," He says, and you roll your eyes. 

"I know, it's your strength and determination as a driver-" 

"It's you." You blink at him, and he laughs softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I think I need to hire you as my engineer, get to listen to you sing to me every race." 

It's you. 

It's a simple admission, really, but it makes you blush nonetheless, trying to think of anything to say after that. Someone calls his name and Daniel turns, staring at the cameras and reporters waiting to talk to him after such a comeback, and you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. "I think you might actually lose if you do that," You tease softly, "But I'll be here whenever you need me." 

"Or whenever I need to feel the rain on my skin." He says with a dramatic wink before walking off, and all you can think is how much you love him as he begins to dance as he walks off, fully returning to belt out the lyrics as everyone looks on in confusion. 

-

-

-

+1

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" The DJ calls over the crowd, clearing the dancefloor. "It's time for the first dance, so if I could have the lovely couple make their way to the dancefloor?" 

"I hope you know how much trust I've put in you for this," You say softly as Daniel leads you to the floor, or you suppose patch of grass designated as the dancefloor. Daniel, for all the wedding planning, had very few requests, one of which being he got to pick the first dance song. Knowing Daniel, it wasn't a hard thing to give over, considering his good music taste for the most part, but it was still worrying, especially with how he hadn't stopped smiling at you. 

You suppose it's normal for a groom to smile at his partner on their wedding day, but something felt off. "And trust me, it's worth it." 

"This song is one that Daniel has loved for some time now, which I think is pretty obvious from his radios!" Those on his team laugh, and it dawns on you slowly what the song might be. "But did you know it's actually a song these two sing together, quite often?" 

"Daniel Joseph Ricciardo." You state bluntly as Unwritten starts up over the speaker, and rather than goofily spinning you around, he plants his hands on your hips as your arms wrap around his neck. "Are you serious?" 

"What, do you not like it?" Then, slightly quieter so only you hear, "Do you actually not like it? I can change it, I just thought-" 

You lean up to press a quick kiss to his lips, cutting him off before pulling back. The crowd hoots in response. "You're ridiculous," You say softly, swaying along to the beat with a growing smile. "But it's perfect." 

"Thank god," He breathes out, extending an arm to spin you around, "Thought I fucked up there for a second." 

"Reaching for something in the distance," The crowd sings in unison, a cacophony of what you can only describe as love as you find yourself back in Daniel's arms "So close you can almost taste it!" 

"This is what you've been hiding from me?" You tease, allowing yourself to not sing along for once to rather focus on his moment. 

"It's our song," Daniel states softly, "Or at least it's the song that always makes me think of you." 

It really does. Every time you hear it, all you can picture is Daniel, making a fool of himself for you. "And lost airport luggage, and rain on vacations-" 

"It makes me happy, like you make me happy." Daniel answers quietly, far more serious than you expected for this song, and his words slowly settle in your heart. "I hope you know, when you were singing that over the radio, I was so close to crying that I just had to laugh and sing along." 

"Daniel," You breathe out softly, "You never told me that." 

He tries to shrug it off, but you don't let him as you hold his stare, and he leans forward to press his forehead to yours. "Well, we're married now. Might as well start telling our secrets eventually." 

You let yourself get lost in the music for a moment, radiating all you can think of as pure joy as you hold Daniel, your stupid, wonderful, perfect husband. It's a strange thing to think, that he's yours now, but he was yours since that airport, since long before that. You were always meant to be here, dancing to some cheesy song with Daniel in your arms. 

"Live your life with arms wide open," The crowd continues, as Daniel dips you.

"Today is where our book begins," He tries to say it seriously and fails, giggling to himself before he kisses you, and you know the words he's going to say before he even pulls back. "The rest is still unwritten." 

a/n: i never watched f1 during daniel's time, and i feel like i really missed out

Esteban & Laura 🖤❤️

ੈ✩ drivers sending you pictures of bf! lewis ੈ✩

warning : fluff, chaos

a/n : sooo, i saw this on tumblr AND A LOT OF OTHER PALCES, THIS IS NOT COPYING, I AM JUST INSPIRED TO MAKE MY OWN! phew, anyways enjoy watching!

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

let me know if you want to be added or removed

permanent tg: @isotopemylove @chair-things @justaf1girl @bibblemiluvr @blushmimi @nikfigueiredo @amz824 @ivegotparticulartaste @raizelchrysanderoctavius @freyathehuntress @piastri-fvx @sadiemack9 @ilivbullyingjeongin @cherry-piee @luvleylisen @sweate-r-weathe-r @jxnellat @loveofmylife12 @budgetcupid @lilaissa @scorpiodiosa @wondergirl101ks @nichmeddar @hoeforlifee @urfavnoirette @lily-ann-b @okcurran @miniboast @teti-menchon0604 @motorsportloverf1 @formula1-motogpfan @capricornito @star73807-blog @isagrace22 @unstablefemme @lovestruck-sky

George for my helmet series

dinner's on you

you're not turning your fandom hobby into a job are you? giving yourself deadlines and quotas that you have to meet? focusing on the numbers instead of your enjoyment of the act of creation?

red bull gives you wiiings

why he so side profile

taglist <3 :

@coffeehurricanes @kicoki @justaf1girl

➤ OBLIVIOUS | F1 SMAU + FIC

pairing: f1 grid x albon!reader (platonic!)

summary: the f1 drivers make the mistake of saying they're always aware of their surroundings, so you start an Instagram account to prove them wrong...by seeing how long it takes them to realize you're taking photos of them.

warnings: none!

➤ MASTERLIST

Liked by alex_albon, georgerussell63, and others

visacashapprb Do your F1 drivers know when we're recording them? Or anyone, for that matter? Seems like the answer is yes! 

↳ yn_albon really @/alexalbon? 

↳ alex_albon I am very observant, thank you very much 

↳ yn_albon we'll see about that

↳ fan44 there's literally paparazzi footage of the drivers every other day, of course they notice, they just pretend like they don't

_

Liked by yn_albon and others

oblivious_f1_drivers the guys said they know when they're being photographed, my camera roll says otherwise

↳ mclar_win Oscar's side eye is crazy 

↳ brocedes this HAS to be like George or someone proving a point

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers George wishes he was me

↳ fan16 this is either a prank or a stalker...watch out guys

_

Liked by alex_albon and others

oblivious_f1_drivers first up: dumb and dumber 🧡 i should start timing how long it takes for them to notice 

↳ alex_albon if I end up in one of these, I'm telling everyone 

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers no promises

↳ f1_fantatic alex, our chronically online king

↳ fan44 oscar and lando together = fork found in kitchen

-

Liked by alex_albon and others

oblivious_f1_drivers in the lead as always, Max Verstappen comes in first by taking two days to notice!

↳ mclar_win max always has to be first, doesn't he?

↳ fan44 no wonder he looks so happy 

↳ mad_maxxx why is the second picture lowkey...

-

Liked by alex_albon and others

oblivious_f1_drivers i got too cocky 😔 tried to go for the super close up and got caught :( current record: three days

↳ fan16 so both Max and Charles now know your identity??

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers they've already been sworn to secrecy

↳ carcarcar who could this be?? charles was happy to see them so it wasn't a stranger

↳ f1_fanatic i mean, alex is lurking in the likes 👀

-

-

Liked by alex_albon, yn_albon, and others

oblivious_f1_drivers idk what made him more mad, the fact that he crashed or the fact he caught me

↳ alex_albon we had a promise 

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers i literally said no promises

↳ alex_albon get ready to give up this account 

↳ mclar_win it has to be George, right? 

↳ carcarcar if it were George he'd be smiling liked by oblivious_f1_drivers

-

Liked by lando, georgerussell63 and others

oblivious_f1_drivers a week and a half for Mr. Lando Norris! i would've taken more but this man was too excited to catch me

↳ lando See? I'm very observant

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers it took you a week and a half to catch me

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers even alex got it in less time 

↳ alex_albon hey!

↳ georgerussell63 any chance I can beg for immunity?

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers send me photos of oblivious drivers, and then maybe we'll talk

-

Liked by alex_albon and others

oblivious_f1_drivers someone tipped him off...at least I snuck one in

↳ alex_albon 😇

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers we could've had something, alex 

↳ alex_albon you're the one who broke their promise 

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers I NEVER PROMISED

↳ alex_albon wait why are you that close to lance in the third photo 

↳ alex_albon answer your texts!!

-

-

Liked by lando, oscarpiastri, and others

oblivious_f1_drivers what's this? oscar finally noticed? after TWO WEEKS? enjoy all the photos

↳ oscarpiastri listen we have a lot to do during race weeks 

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers like pay attention to your photographers??

↳ oscarpiastri that's not even your job

↳ nicolepiastri so it's not just me being ignored?

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers @/oscarpiastri text your mom or I'm stealing her

↳ oscarpiastri will do 🫡

↳ brocedes so we KNOW its not a photographer

-

-

Liked by alex_albon, georgerussell63 and others

oblivious_f1_drivers looks like we're not the ONLY oblivious ones #/hacked #/alexandgeorgehaveyourphone #/thebetteralbon

↳ yn_albon GEORGE???

↳ georgerussell63 why are you mad at me?? be mad at alex!

↳ alex_albon yeah george, how could you do this?

↳ f1_fanatic the albon siblings causing trouble on track as usual 

↳ lando payback for having to look over my shoulder all week

-

You hold your hand out to Alex, who reluctantly drops your phone into your palm. Sometimes, you think, people forget you were actual siblings, who had just the same amount of fun annoying each other as any other pair of siblings in the world. The only difference, however, was that your brother happened to be a world-famous F1 driver, and you were a journalist trailing him around all day. 

So honestly? You were perfectly within your rights to post all those silly photos of him and his friends. After all, it was something to occupy you in the rare moments you weren't hearing about being an Albon, or growing up around all the drivers, or waiting for Alex to come to an interview ten minutes late because you couldn't really say anything about it.

"I can't believe you," You direct both towards Alex and George, checking to make sure they didn't mess with anything else on your phone. 

You had to give them some credit in their retaliation. Alex must have been sneaking photos of you all week, and then airdropped them to your phone to put onto your Instagram account. You'd never say that out loud, however.

Lord knows he didn't need the extra ego.

"Me?" Alex asks, looking rather insulted. "You're the one out here taking photos of us secretly." 

"You're the one who said you weren't oblivious. I've seen you walk into a pole! Be serious." There's a joke to be made about him walking into poles yet never getting pole, but that's a bit too harsh, even for you. 

"Be serious?" Alex parrots, rubbing a hand over his face. "Be serious! You are so lucky you're family, or I would've kicked you out of the paddock by now." 

With the same grin you'd been pulling on him since you were a kid, you force him to reconcile with the fact that he actually did this to himself. "Unfortunately, you did also get me a job with F1, so you couldn't even kick me out if you tried." 

"I'm sure they'd let me kick someone out if I needed to." He mutters, shaking his head, and before you can open your mouth, he raises a finger. "We're not making another bet about this." 

George, finally content with how the conversation has ended, speaks up. "I can't believe it took Oscar so long to notice." 

"I know, I thought it would be Charles." Alex answers honestly, and George pauses for a moment before turning to you.

"Should I be concerned I never caught you taking pictures of me?" His expression is stuck somewhere between the horror of potentially not noticing you and relief that you might have excluded him, considering the deal you struck up. To your surprise, George actually did supply you with oblivious photos of the drivers, a sort of double blackmail you can't wait to spring.

And, while he hasn't ended up on the account yet, there's still time.

He did help steal your phone, after all. He will pay. "I just didn't get to post yours. You're also pretty oblivious." 

"No, I'm not!" He says, pointing down at your phone. "We checked the camera roll, there was nothing of me on there!" 

"You think I'd leave those on my camera roll?" You ask with the same grin, now pointed at him. "Oh, I keep my secrets much more guarded, thank you." Alex offers a look, and you shove his shoulder. So maybe he had a point about you leaving your phone unattended around a man who knew the password and knew you ran a secret account, but still! "This secret doesn't count." 

"I'm sure it doesn't," Alex says with a laugh before leaning in closer. "Any good ones of George?" 

"Got one of him picking his nose?" 

With a screech you can only describe as inhuman, George loses all the colour in his face. "You do not!" Then, as he reaches for your phone, both you and Alex take a step back. "Albons, don't do this to me!" 

You and Alex are running before George even has a chance to catch up. 

It's a rare time Alex ever actually beats George in a race.

-

Liked by lando, alex_albon, and others

oblivious_f1_drivers my cover has been blown :( it was fun while it lasted

↳ alex_albon I'm really glad I got you hired as a journalist and not a photographer, these are terrible

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers ow??

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers I can't even be a nepo sister in peace

↳ isackhadjar oh come on 

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers your expression captures how I feel, it deserves the first slide

↳ georgerussell63 hey, i thought we had a deal 

↳ alex_albon you made a deal with george and not me??

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers @/georgerussell63 the deal ended when YOU STOLE MY PHONE 

a/n: my friends have started playing photo tag on campus, which is the only way i can describe where this came from - enjoy?

➤ OBLIVIOUS | F1 SMAU + FIC

pairing: f1 grid x albon!reader (platonic!)

summary: the f1 drivers make the mistake of saying they're always aware of their surroundings, so you start an Instagram account to prove them wrong...by seeing how long it takes them to realize you're taking photos of them.

warnings: none!

➤ MASTERLIST

Liked by alex_albon, georgerussell63, and others

visacashapprb Do your F1 drivers know when we're recording them? Or anyone, for that matter? Seems like the answer is yes! 

↳ yn_albon really @/alexalbon? 

↳ alex_albon I am very observant, thank you very much 

↳ yn_albon we'll see about that

↳ fan44 there's literally paparazzi footage of the drivers every other day, of course they notice, they just pretend like they don't

_

Liked by yn_albon and others

oblivious_f1_drivers the guys said they know when they're being photographed, my camera roll says otherwise

↳ mclar_win Oscar's side eye is crazy 

↳ brocedes this HAS to be like George or someone proving a point

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers George wishes he was me

↳ fan16 this is either a prank or a stalker...watch out guys

_

Liked by alex_albon and others

oblivious_f1_drivers first up: dumb and dumber 🧡 i should start timing how long it takes for them to notice 

↳ alex_albon if I end up in one of these, I'm telling everyone 

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers no promises

↳ f1_fantatic alex, our chronically online king

↳ fan44 oscar and lando together = fork found in kitchen

-

Liked by alex_albon and others

oblivious_f1_drivers in the lead as always, Max Verstappen comes in first by taking two days to notice!

↳ mclar_win max always has to be first, doesn't he?

↳ fan44 no wonder he looks so happy 

↳ mad_maxxx why is the second picture lowkey...

-

Liked by alex_albon and others

oblivious_f1_drivers i got too cocky 😔 tried to go for the super close up and got caught :( current record: three days

↳ fan16 so both Max and Charles now know your identity??

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers they've already been sworn to secrecy

↳ carcarcar who could this be?? charles was happy to see them so it wasn't a stranger

↳ f1_fanatic i mean, alex is lurking in the likes 👀

-

-

Liked by alex_albon, yn_albon, and others

oblivious_f1_drivers idk what made him more mad, the fact that he crashed or the fact he caught me

↳ alex_albon we had a promise 

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers i literally said no promises

↳ alex_albon get ready to give up this account 

↳ mclar_win it has to be George, right? 

↳ carcarcar if it were George he'd be smiling liked by oblivious_f1_drivers

-

Liked by lando, georgerussell63 and others

oblivious_f1_drivers a week and a half for Mr. Lando Norris! i would've taken more but this man was too excited to catch me

↳ lando See? I'm very observant

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers it took you a week and a half to catch me

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers even alex got it in less time 

↳ alex_albon hey!

↳ georgerussell63 any chance I can beg for immunity?

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers send me photos of oblivious drivers, and then maybe we'll talk

-

Liked by alex_albon and others

oblivious_f1_drivers someone tipped him off...at least I snuck one in

↳ alex_albon 😇

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers we could've had something, alex 

↳ alex_albon you're the one who broke their promise 

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers I NEVER PROMISED

↳ alex_albon wait why are you that close to lance in the third photo 

↳ alex_albon answer your texts!!

-

-

Liked by lando, oscarpiastri, and others

oblivious_f1_drivers what's this? oscar finally noticed? after TWO WEEKS? enjoy all the photos

↳ oscarpiastri listen we have a lot to do during race weeks 

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers like pay attention to your photographers??

↳ oscarpiastri that's not even your job

↳ nicolepiastri so it's not just me being ignored?

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers @/oscarpiastri text your mom or I'm stealing her

↳ oscarpiastri will do 🫡

↳ brocedes so we KNOW its not a photographer

-

-

Liked by alex_albon, georgerussell63 and others

oblivious_f1_drivers looks like we're not the ONLY oblivious ones #/hacked #/alexandgeorgehaveyourphone #/thebetteralbon

↳ yn_albon GEORGE???

↳ georgerussell63 why are you mad at me?? be mad at alex!

↳ alex_albon yeah george, how could you do this?

↳ f1_fanatic the albon siblings causing trouble on track as usual 

↳ lando payback for having to look over my shoulder all week

-

You hold your hand out to Alex, who reluctantly drops your phone into your palm. Sometimes, you think, people forget you were actual siblings, who had just the same amount of fun annoying each other as any other pair of siblings in the world. The only difference, however, was that your brother happened to be a world-famous F1 driver, and you were a journalist trailing him around all day. 

So honestly? You were perfectly within your rights to post all those silly photos of him and his friends. After all, it was something to occupy you in the rare moments you weren't hearing about being an Albon, or growing up around all the drivers, or waiting for Alex to come to an interview ten minutes late because you couldn't really say anything about it.

"I can't believe you," You direct both towards Alex and George, checking to make sure they didn't mess with anything else on your phone. 

You had to give them some credit in their retaliation. Alex must have been sneaking photos of you all week, and then airdropped them to your phone to put onto your Instagram account. You'd never say that out loud, however.

Lord knows he didn't need the extra ego.

"Me?" Alex asks, looking rather insulted. "You're the one out here taking photos of us secretly." 

"You're the one who said you weren't oblivious. I've seen you walk into a pole! Be serious." There's a joke to be made about him walking into poles yet never getting pole, but that's a bit too harsh, even for you. 

"Be serious?" Alex parrots, rubbing a hand over his face. "Be serious! You are so lucky you're family, or I would've kicked you out of the paddock by now." 

With the same grin you'd been pulling on him since you were a kid, you force him to reconcile with the fact that he actually did this to himself. "Unfortunately, you did also get me a job with F1, so you couldn't even kick me out if you tried." 

"I'm sure they'd let me kick someone out if I needed to." He mutters, shaking his head, and before you can open your mouth, he raises a finger. "We're not making another bet about this." 

George, finally content with how the conversation has ended, speaks up. "I can't believe it took Oscar so long to notice." 

"I know, I thought it would be Charles." Alex answers honestly, and George pauses for a moment before turning to you.

"Should I be concerned I never caught you taking pictures of me?" His expression is stuck somewhere between the horror of potentially not noticing you and relief that you might have excluded him, considering the deal you struck up. To your surprise, George actually did supply you with oblivious photos of the drivers, a sort of double blackmail you can't wait to spring.

And, while he hasn't ended up on the account yet, there's still time.

He did help steal your phone, after all. He will pay. "I just didn't get to post yours. You're also pretty oblivious." 

"No, I'm not!" He says, pointing down at your phone. "We checked the camera roll, there was nothing of me on there!" 

"You think I'd leave those on my camera roll?" You ask with the same grin, now pointed at him. "Oh, I keep my secrets much more guarded, thank you." Alex offers a look, and you shove his shoulder. So maybe he had a point about you leaving your phone unattended around a man who knew the password and knew you ran a secret account, but still! "This secret doesn't count." 

"I'm sure it doesn't," Alex says with a laugh before leaning in closer. "Any good ones of George?" 

"Got one of him picking his nose?" 

With a screech you can only describe as inhuman, George loses all the colour in his face. "You do not!" Then, as he reaches for your phone, both you and Alex take a step back. "Albons, don't do this to me!" 

You and Alex are running before George even has a chance to catch up. 

It's a rare time Alex ever actually beats George in a race.

-

Liked by lando, alex_albon, and others

oblivious_f1_drivers my cover has been blown :( it was fun while it lasted

↳ alex_albon I'm really glad I got you hired as a journalist and not a photographer, these are terrible

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers ow??

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers I can't even be a nepo sister in peace

↳ isackhadjar oh come on 

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers your expression captures how I feel, it deserves the first slide

↳ georgerussell63 hey, i thought we had a deal 

↳ alex_albon you made a deal with george and not me??

↳ oblivious_f1_drivers @/georgerussell63 the deal ended when YOU STOLE MY PHONE 

a/n: my friends have started playing photo tag on campus, which is the only way i can describe where this came from - enjoy?

there seems to be a running misconception (specifically among fic authors) that between lando and oscar, oscar is the cleaner/more organized one? i'd actually put money on lando being less messy considering oscars room looks like THIS