max verstappen brought this child into the world 😭
hey!! you’re genuinely one of my favorite writers, i check your profile everyday to see if you wrote something new. ily.
i was wondering if you would be able to write ex!charles leclerc calling after winning monaco and leaving a voicemail of how he wishes she could be there with him to experience it after all the years he dreamt of it and every single time he did she was there? kind of like a “the one that got away” trope?
if so then thank you so much may everything good happen to you foreva
Anonnie! ILYT!!! You're so so sweet! I love writing angst so this was right up my alley!! I really hope you like it!
THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY | Charles Leclerc x Reader
Warnings: None. There is no happy ending.
It’s late at night, long after the celebrations of his Monaco win, when he thinks of you. He tries not to. It hurts too much. But after this—after years of chasing this, of dreaming about this—all he wants is to share it with you. He can’t, though. Because he left. Because he chose to leave. And he regrets it every single day.
“I just need to focus on my career,” he had said. “I don’t need distractions right now.”
He called you a distraction.
“I can’t have anything unimportant ruin my chances at helping us get a Constructor’s Championship.”
He called you unimportant.
“This is all too much. This relationship is too much. I have too much on my shoulders to worry about this.”
He said you were too much.
But you weren’t. You were never too much, never unimportant, never a distraction. You—God, you were his whole world. And he let you go.
That night, he left. Stayed at a friend’s place until you both could figure out how to split everything. He thought there would be a conversation, a plan. But he didn’t have to wait—when he returned, you were already gone. Your keys left at the front desk, your presence erased from the apartment that once felt like home.
Your shoes were no longer on the rack by the front door. Your clothes were missing from your side of the closet. Your perfumes and makeup—gone. Your skincare, once neatly arranged on the bathroom counter, wiped away as if you had never been there at all.
You were gone, and yet your absence was everywhere.
If he could take it back, he would.
But he can’t.
He let go of the one person who had been there from the very start—the one who watched every race, who nursed his wounds after every crash, who celebrated every podium, every victory, as if they were her own.
And he regretted it more than anything.
Still, a part of him—selfish and desperate—wanted to hear your voice just one last time. Wanted to tell you about this win. Wanted to imagine, just for a moment, what it would feel like to have you here, whispering, I’m proud of you.
Against his better judgment, he calls you. No hesitation. No second-guessing. No voice in his head warning him that this might be a mistake—that you might not want to hear from him ever again.
The phone rings, and he hopes. He knows you won’t pick up, but still, he hopes. Hopes that, against all odds, you’ll answer. That you’ll say what he’s desperate to hear. That you’ll come rushing over to celebrate with him. That maybe…just maybe, you’ll tell him you want to try again.
The call pushes through.
"Hey! This is Y/N! Sorry I can’t get to you, but just leave a message after the beep!"
me personally, i would've welcomed him back in my arms but that's just me though 😔 (oh my god im coping this hurts so good.)
I RANDOMLY SAW DAVE’S SPEECH FROM GILMORE GIRLS AGAIN AND THAT’S A THING ENZO WOULD SO LITERALLY DO!!!
he’d come with a bouquet of flowers and stuff. in case you haven’t watched Gilmore Girls:
A few weeks ago you told me that Lane had a crush on me. Well, I have a crush on her, too. Now, I know you have very strict rules about dating and boys, but I just want you to know that I'm a good person. I don't smoke, I don't drink, I've never gotten a ticket, I'm healthy, I take care of myself, I floss. I never watch more than 30 minutes of television a night partly because I think it's a waste of time and partly because there's nothing on. I respect my parents, I do well in school, I never play video games in case they do someday prove that playing them can turn you into a serial killer. I don't drink coffee. I hate soda because the carbonation freaks me out. I'm happy to give up meat if you feel strongly about it. I don't mind wearing a tie. I enjoy playing those hymns on my guitar, and I really, really want to take your daughter to the prom.
URGH dave rygalski, the man that you are 🫠🫠
there's something to be said about how we take max verstappen a little for granted. he's been working casual miracles for years now, driving and winning a championship with a car checo could barely FINISH a race with, and now also has wholesome(ish) energy.
also no race winner wins with the style he does. lando's podium champagne bump is cool, and my favorite wins are charles wins for obvious reasons but also because he stands on a podium like a monarch anointed by god and sanctified by a populace but when max wins he looks like he'll fight god and win. and no one's doing that but him.
✶ 15 YEARS IN THE MAKING
summary: oscar's home race is a big deal. however, what's even bigger is the realization that he has been in love with the childhood friend waiting for him at the finish line since the day he met her. it only took him 15 years, a thousand missed opportunities and a so-called mistake to realize it.
pairing: oscar piastri x childhood bff!f!reader
wc: 11.3k
cw: aus gp 2025, unaccurate aus gp 2024 for plot purpose, use of y/n, slightly inaccurate timeline, kinda bittersweet/angsty at some point, otherwise fluff + hea
note: need to cradle that man in my arms and kiss him on the forehead, special mention to @cntappen who wanted yearning oscar, hope ur satisfied 🙏 i lowkey hate this but we carry on
soundtrack: ♫ something, somehow, someday - role model
OSCAR ALMOST DROPS his mug when Hattie tells him the news. “She’s coming to the race?”
His sister nodded, shifting from one foot to the other like she didn’t quite know where to put herself ─ which was uncharacteristic of her ─ and the first things going through Oscar’s mind were Did she know? How would she know? Did she tell her? “I texted her about it ‘cause she always comes to Melbourne. I was just curious. She said she’d be coming if she was welcome with us.”
His head was spinning. Gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, Oscar chose his next words with calculated precision. “And you said…?”
“I mean, Mom said yes, obviously,” Hattie shrugged. “She loves Y/N. And she said it’s been a while since you two saw each other, might do you some good with stress and all that.”
Of course, his mom would say that. You had always been a second daughter for her, welcoming you in her home as if your place had always been next to Oscar on the living room couch. Hattie had been as enthusiastic as her, if a little confused at first, about who had developed such an attachment to her quiet, nonchalant brother. Ever since you and Oscar were children, as soon as he told his mother about the new girl next door who cut short his remote-controlled truck training on the playground, you had been included in every Piastri family dinner.
Because you were Oscar's whole world, his personal sun, the second you stepped into view ─ it would have taken someone mute, blind, and deaf not to notice it. He was just a planet, a satellite, orbiting around you in search of meaning.
Had been. Until almost a year ago.
And nobody knew except for him.
OH MY GOD THAT LAST SENTENCE AT THE END OH MY GOD ITS JUST CHEF'S KISS 😭 this.. this was good. do it again. oh lord have mercy 🙏🙏🙏🙏
hey idk if you heard the song jonny or the reprise version by faye webster yet but idk i just got this fic idea wherein oscar wasn't just ready for a relationship or its the other way around.. idk just hurt me 😭
I LOVE THIS SONG!!! It's on my crash out playlist HAHAHA This is a lil unedited btw I wrote it in one go and well....here it is!! I hope u like it :>>>
DID YOU EVER EVEN LOVE ME? | Oscar Piastri x Reader
WARNINGS: None. Just. idk it's sad i guess...
The room is tense—air so thick it clings to your skin, somehow warmer despite the usual cold London breeze. The white walls of the apartment stretch around you, casting long, inky shadows, leaving little room for light. The silence is deafening, louder than the hum of traffic below, pressing in on you from all sides.
It’s been your apartment for a month now. Your own space. Something most people would celebrate—throw a housewarming party, invite friends over, fill the rooms with laughter. But for you, it’s been a reminder. An empty echo of everything you’ve lost.
It makes you question everything. Your choices. Your worth. The very foundation of who you are.
You think that’s what love does to people. It breaks them. Leaves them raw. You try to pray sometimes, whispering into the dark, hoping some deity—any deity—might be listening.
Some nights, you ask for revenge, for some cosmic retribution to make him feel the weight of the pain he left you with. Other nights, you just beg to feel nothing at all, to be numb, to let the emptiness take over so the ache would finally stop.
Sometimes you ask for him back.
They say love is patient. Kind. It trusts, hopes, perseveres. And for a time, it was—it did. For a time, love was stolen kisses in hidden corners, hushed phone calls on nights you were apart, midnight screenings of obscure films, hands clasped tight in the bitter cold, just to keep each other warm.
A knock at the door breaks you from your thoughts. Sharp. Unmistakable.
It’s him.
You knew he'd come—you’d read the message over and over, the words burned into your mind. He was coming to get his things. You’d cried yourself to sleep last night, knowing this moment would come.
And now it has.
oh my god why did i request this because im so sad rn 😭 its so good what.. i need 3-5 business days to recover
EIGHTEEN | Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: Oscar Piastri has loved you since he was eighteen. It just takes him a while to get to that point. Or so he thinks. This is Oscar's journey to realizing that maybe the girl he's always hated isn't so bad at all. In fact, she's actually...pretty loveable.
Warnings: None just Enemies to Lovers?? Or is it more Rivals to Lovers?? Also, the timeline is wonky with the irl events, so just pretend it makes sense. And also i had to look up the british school systems SO THEY MAY BE WRONG BUT PLEASE JUST PRETEND
2016: Year 10 [15 years old]
He didn’t know why, but from the moment you two met at the headmaster’s office, Oscar Piastri knew he hated you.
Maybe it was your posture—back straight, legs crossed at the ankles, hands resting politely on your lap—or maybe it was your voice, too polished, too proper, like you were reciting lines off a script. Or maybe it was everything else.
The way you barely acknowledged him as you both waited in the stuffy office, but flashed a smile so perfectly pleasant it had to be fake the second the teachers and headmaster walked in. The way your eyes flickered over him when he introduced himself, assessing, calculating, like he was a pawn to be placed, a connection to be measured. Or maybe—definitely—it was when you called motorsport, his life’s mission and passion, a hobby.
He tried not to let it get to him. He really did. But even he had to admit he could be a little petty.
“At least I have a hobby,” he muttered in your direction as soon as the faculty members were out of earshot.
For a split second, he thought you looked hurt—something in the way your lips parted, the slightest flicker of hesitation in your expression. But then it was gone, replaced by a scoff and a perfectly arched brow.
“At least I know my dreams have a higher chance of succeeding than yours do.”
Low blow.
OH MY GOD "Three years, and she were still his greatest victory." oh my god stop right now 😭 an oscar yearning fic hates to see me coming..
lit one of my favs
cold coffee ⛐ 𝐎𝐏𝟖𝟏
“best thing about your hometown?” “apparently it’s the coffee. i don’t drink coffee so i don’t know. for me, it’s just that it’s home.”
ꔮ starring: oscar piastri x café owner!reader. ꔮ word count: 4.8k. ꔮ includes: romance, friendship, fluff. mentions of food. set in melbourne, spans a couple of years (alleged slowburn), oscar pines!!! so much!!!, cameos from oscar's sisters. ꔮ commentary box: lots of love all around i.e. contract renewal + home race. had to do it to 'em. inspired by this video, where two of my friends immediately demanded to see a barista!reader. did a bit of a spin on it, but the concept is intact! ☕ 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
♫ cold coffee, ed sheeran. something, somehow, someday, role model. i'd have to think about it, leith ross. time, angelo de augustine. keep the rain, searows. the view between villages, noah kahan.
It starts with Hattie.
Oscar’s younger sister had spent the morning badgering him, pleading in the way only a sibling with endless energy and zero regard for his sanity could. She’d tugged on his sleeve, whining about the new café down the street, her eyes wide with manufactured innocence.
“We’ve been home for two weeks, and you haven’t done anything fun,” she’d accused, arms crossed as she blocked his way to the fridge. “Come with me. Pleeease?”
THIS WAS SO CUTE??????? ONE OF MY FAVS OH MY GOD IM NOT EVEN KIDDING
Wildflower (OP81 x fem!reader x LN4)
Chapter 1
SERIES SUMMARY: You’ve been best friends with Oscar Piastri since you were seven, far before the dream of Formula 1 even seemed possible. You’ve been with him from the very beginning—due, in no small part, to the fact that you’ve been in love with him since you were a teenager. But when a breakup and championship battle rattles the very foundations of your friendship, you begin to question if you ever really knew him. (Best friends to lovers, based on the song Wildflower by Billie Eilish)
WORD COUNT: 11.1k
WARNINGS: Oscar is not a very good boyfriend to Lily and Lily is not a very good girlfriend to Oscar. Potentially changed some dates (I think Oscar and Lily started dating when they were 17 or 18, but I’m making them 18 for the sake of the flashback scenes). Reader is “the girl he told me not to worry about” through no fault of her own. This story has a lot of complex character dynamics and everyone is flawed! References to sex but no actual smut.
A/N: Ah new series! I hope this is good—I’m trying some new stuff with the flashbacks and story layers, so I hope it doesn’t read too confusingly! Also, I’m trying to be more intentional with showing instead of telling with my dialogue and such, so hopefully that is an improvement. I always welcome constructive criticism, but either way, I hope you all enjoy this.
“Lily left me.”
He only needed those three words to convey the gravity of the situation. On the other end of the line, you were silent. He was too. What was there to say?
No, it couldn’t be real. Oscar and Lily were inseparable. The dream couple of Formula 1. Your best friend had been in love with her since the pair were 18, attending boarding school in the UK together while Oscar pursued his dreams of making it to F1.
They were each other’s everything. At least, that’s what the world thought.
i have mixed feelings about this 😬
✶ BETTER THAN THE NOVELS
summary: you're a romance novel influencer that has never actually experienced romance. ironic, right? and when f1 driver lando norris accidentally becomes a constant presence in your life, he decides he can't possibly let that slide.
pairing: lando norrisノf!reader
wc: 11.2k
cw: reader is a ferrari fan and is said to wear feminine clothing (dresses, skirts etc), reader has a race taking place in her home country but it's not precised where, takes place during a fictional season (w the 2025 grid), cussing, inspired by nick and cassie on tiktok, slight angst near the end for plot reason, otherwise just tooth-rotting fluff!
a/n: first fic who cheered! this is so self-indulgent and cliché but who caresss also its a long one so buckle up (editing was hell, ending is a bit rushed too sorry)
THERE WAS NOT ONE day in which @.whoisy/n, book influencer extraordinaire, did not pass her day with her head inside a romance novel.
You always liked reading. The passion struck you in late primary school when you first opened Percy Jackson and before you knew it, you finished the entire series in three days and begged your parents to buy you Heroes of Olympus. There was no going back after that. You couldn’t spend a day without your thirty minutes to an-hour reading session.
Like every girl raised with the idea of being a strong, independent female lead in the novel that was your life ─ at the sweet age of thirteen, dare I be precise ─ you never dabbled too much into romance. If it ended in a book you were currently reading, so be it, but you wouldn’t outwardly enjoy it. Why would you need someone in your life? You were so not like the other girls, you didn’t waste your time on boys or parties or things like that ─ you didn’t even wear pink!
Except that now that you have grown up, at the age of twenty-two, you liked wearing pink and bows, and because you spent most of your life buried in books with this idiotic, sexist idea of the “not-like-other-girls”, you never had kissed or dated anyone. Damn Rick Riordan.
DEFINITELY one of my favorites
This is so important to me
CRASHED THE WEDDING | Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: Max has always been good at winning races. But he's never been good at fighting for what matters most. When he receives an invitation to your wedding years after he makes a decision that ended your relationship for good, he's forced to confront everything he's been too afraid to face. His feelings. Your history. Everything that could have been if he'd only had the courage to reach for the stars.
Warnings: None. It's just a lil angsty at some points, but it's a happy ending!!!
The invitation feels like lead in Max’s hands, heavy and cold, a stark reminder of what could have been.
You are cordially invited to the wedding of Y/N L/N and Vincent Astor.
He reads the words over and over, letting them blur in front of him, as though if he stared hard enough, they might shift, might reshape themselves into something less painful, something he could dismiss as a mistake. But no—this is real, a reality he’d rather ignore but can't.