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sunsets and self doubt (and words left unspoken) - 3
Main AO3 tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, 2024 Formula 1 Season
Sadie's Faceclaim: Maia Mitchell (but you can visualise her howver you want :) )
warnings: lots swearing, major car accident, mentions of broken bones, blood and hospitals. A lot of shit happens. Limited knowledge of Silverstone or how the structure of their emergency response on track works.
comments: ...prepare for pain. I'm not sorry. I did speak to a doctor friend, and Sadie continuing with her injuries is plausible.
“Fuck me, it’s a bit cold,” Sadie complained to the middle-aged paramedic beside her.
“Is it too cold for the Australian kid?” Mark laughed.
Sadie turned to him, looked up and frowned. “Not a kid, fuck you.”
Mark laughed again and tried to pat her on the head, which Sadie swatted away.
“Let’s just hope today’s race is dry,” he said after a moment.
Sadie nodded, stray wisps of her dark brown hair loosely flying around her face in the breeze.
Silverstone, in June, was the same temperature as Sadie’s home town in September, just leaving winter into spring.
“This is not summer weather,” she whined.
“You volunteered, kid,” Mark reminded her.
“I know, I know.”
“Where have they placed you?”
“Medics at turn 13. That’s Stowe, right?”
“Yeah. It can be a dangerous one. But you’re with my older brother Keith, so you’ll be fine.”
"How is it in the wet?"
"Worse, but the drivers are in safe hands."
----$----
Sadie paced as she watched 18 -Pierre Gasly and Oscar Piastri had sent each other out early in the race- of the best drivers in the world speed past.
“Sadie,” Keith called, “you should sit down.”
“I’m more anxious when I sit,” she replied without taking her eyes off the track. The track that was getting wetter and wetter as the minutes passed.
"Mark said to let you pace and I will, but nothing is going to happen," the grey-haired man reassured.
Sadie sent him a kind smile but didn't reply out loud.
It was a good thing she didn’t. They might have missed it.
Two Red Bulls, the McLaren and a Mercedes flew into view. The McLaren, Lando Norris' McLaren, clipped the back wheel of Lewis Hamilton's Mercedes, sending a shower of debris into the misting rain.
Lando's car spun twice and then slammed into the wall side on. Lewis spun once but managed to pull his car to a stop in the gravel before it could collide with anything.
Sadie was out the door, pulling on her mandatory helmet and grabbing a first aid kit before Keith was out of his chair.
"Go to the McLaren!" Keith shouted to her as he followed with another kit. "I'll take Hamilton!"
She didn't acknowledge his order but followed it without hesitation. She jumped the barrier, her gaze locked on the fluro-yellow helmet. The helmet that was barely moving.
"Norris," she shouted as she reached the car. "Are you okay?"
"No!" His voice came as a strangled croak, barely loud enough for her to hear him.
She dropped the first aid kit and grabbed the steering wheel he was holding out.
"You will be, we're here." She stated. "Can you get out?"
Sadie didn't breathe as Norris cried out. "My foot!" he wailed. "My ankle!"
"Okay, take a deep breath, Norris. Push yourself up with your arms. You're strong, mate. Push."
She didn't know what she was saying. She was running on instinct and adrenaline. Purely, instinct and adrenaline.
Get them off the track, Mark's voice rang in her head. Get them somewhere safe.
The driver hoisted himself onto the halo and Sadie saw his ankle bent at an unnatural angle. She couldn't let it show on her face.
"Alright, Lando swing to me. Swing around."
He did so, wobbling dangerously.
"Drop onto your right foot, I'm here."
Cars sped past, the flag only yellow.
Lando didn't drop onto his feet, he fell from the car and into Sadie. She was lucky she had braced herself as she caught him.
He screamed in pain as his ankle hit the ground.
"Lando, my name is Sadie. I've got you now, do not put your left foot on the ground. I'm gonna get you to the medical tent."
"Sadie? Melbourne Sadie?" He whimpered. He couldn't stop making small sounds of pain.
She opened his visor, met his watercolour eyes. She knew her helmet had no visor, knew he could see her eyes.
"Yes, Lando, it's Melbourne Sadie. I've got you now, we've got to get you off the track."
She hauled his left arm over her shoulders and wrapped an arm around his waist. "Walk with me Lando. That's it, with your right foot. Good. You're gonna be okay, mate. It's just a scratch."
Sadie still hadn't registered what she was saying, or the fact that Lando was leaning almost all of his weight on her.
Her head snapped up at the sound of approaching cars. With hands firmly on his waist, Sadie slipped out from under his left arm and placed herself under his right.
She put herself between him and the oncoming cars. She didn't know what might happen, hadn't thought about it. She hadn't thought at all.
It was Yuki Tsunoda’s RB that struck the McLaren or Mercedes debris. More debris flew through the rain, something off all three cars. Sadie pulled Lando tighter into her and shielded him as she continued to pull him towards the closest exit.
Pain tore through Sadie's adrenaline. Her right side, both arm and leg. She stumbled, barely, but right herself and Lando cried out in pain again.
She knew two things and two things alone; do not stop and do not let the pain stop you.
"I've got you Lando, you're going great. Keep going!"
"Sadie," he whimpered. "Fuck. My ankle, Sadie, my car."
"I know, Lando, I know. You're going to be okay. Your car will be fine, you will be okay."
"Fuck," he whimpered again.
"Keep going, pretty boy. Don't put that left foot on the ground. You're gonna be okay."
More hands joined hers and pulled Lando over the barrier. She didn't register who it was, only that he was on the other side and being treated. She heard a lot of swearing, she heard someone call her name.
She looked up to see Lando staring at her leg. He was lying on an ambulance stretcher.
"Sadie," he croaked, his eyes rising to hers.
She didn't look down, a part of her knew she didn't want to know. Sadie kept his eye contact as she tried to stand upright. "I'm okay, Lando. I'm okay." She reassured.
Someone stepped into her line of sight and she lost view of his face. They hauled him into the waiting ambulance.
"Fuck, kid." She recognised that voice.
She turned, limped around to face Mark.
"Mark, Lando he's -" He recognised her voice, just as she had his. She was still wearing the medic's helmet.
"Sadie, your leg. You've-" He stepped forwards and pulled a chair with him.
"I don't know," she whispered. She couldn't be louder, she tried to say it louder but it was the same whispered, "I don't know. I haven't looked."
The paramedic rushed to her, placing the chair beneath her as her right leg gave out.
"Don't look," he muttered. "You're gonna be okay, but you can't look."
Someone handed him gauze and bandages. Another handed him saline and scissors.
Lewis, instantly recognisable in the black suit, stepped into Sadie's quickly narrowing line of sight.
"Oh my god," he exclaimed.
When Sadie saw him, she remembered what she'd done. She thought about what she'd done.
The crash. Catching Lando. Essentially dragging him off the track. Putting herself between him and the cars. Her leg. She didn't know the damage but her leg was on fire.
"Sir," she breathed. "Lewis, my helmet, please."
"Oh my god, kid. They're gonna look after you, okay?" He dropped to his knees next to her, leaving his own helmet in the dust.
"I know," she croaked as he undid the straps at her chin. "It's not that. The media- Lewis, hide me from the media. Please."
That's when Lewis recognised Sadie. Her brown hair was plastered to her pale face. Her dark eyes were wide with fear.
"Oh shit. Okay kid, yeah. They'll never know your name, they'll never see your face. I swear it, Sadie. I promise."
Someone handed her a green piece of plastic. The green whistle. Pain relief, and a very strong one.
Her last words before the high kicked in were, "Lewis, please. No reports, no one can know it was me."
Needless to say, the rest of the day was a blur. She barely remembered the ambulance ride, getting the piece of Formula One car embedded in her thigh taken out or the stitches in her arm and leg.
It was all over the news.
Medic gets stabbed with shrapnel while helping driver Lando Norris.
Norris out of Silverstone GP: The Medic Who Saved Him.
Two in hospital after dangerous crash at Silverstone.
But Sadie's name was never written. Every reporter was baffled at the disappearance of her identity.
----$----
Lewis had gone to Max that evening, before the winner had the chance to go out.
"It was the Melbourne volunteer," he'd told him in his hotel room. "The medic in hospital, it was Sadie."
Max's face snapped towards Lewis. He'd been making Lewis a coffee, but it was abandoned.
"What happened? Is she okay?"
Lewis shrugged, shadows passing over his face. "I don't know, man. I- Her leg was bad."
"Fuck," Max muttered. "How did it happen?"
Lewis rubbed his face with his hands. "I don't know that either. I didn't see it. It's what happens now that I want to talk about. I need your help."
Max froze. Lewis knew why, he'd never asked Max for help before. They were friendly, finally, but they weren't close.
"She begged me, Max, begged me, to keep her name out of the media. So far, so good but I need your influence in the paddock. You still have the unpredictable 'Mad Max' reputation to some people. I need you to use it."
He nodded and there was an understanding between the champions. Sadie had protected their friend, maybe saved his career if some of the initial reports were true, and it was their turn to protect her.
"I don't know why she was so desperate. She was begging me. She had a piece of fucking metal sticking out of her goddamn leg and she was begging me to hide her from the media."
"It doesn't matter," Max stated. His eyes were dark as he searched his contacts for a name. "It doesn't get out. Her name appears nowhere."
They would protect her.
My laptop is being weird with letting me tag people. Let me know if it didn't work and I'll see what I can do :)
credits to saradika-graphics for the banner
Masterlist | Series Masterlist | AO3 link
Taglist: @snubug @cmleitora @izzy-marvel @aquangxl @morenofilm @viennakarma @simpingcorner @randomgirlnumber-13 @leilanixx @spookystitchery @itsjustkhaos
#f1#formula 1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x oc#lando norris#max verstappen#lewis hamilton#f1 2024#sunsets and self doubt
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sunsets and self doubt (and words left unspoken) - 2.
Main AO3 tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, 2024 Formula 1 Season
Sadie's Faceclaim: Maia Mitchell (but you can visualise her howver you want :) )
warnings: swearing, hints of romance (ugh).
comments: this is a bit of a filler chapter to characterise some things. enjoy :)
Max Verstappen was passing the Mercedes hospitality and chatting to GP, his race engineer, when someone caught his eye. Dark brown hair, round face, sharp nose and an aura that compared to no others.
“Wait- hang on. Lewis! Lewis!” The older man, who had been leaving his hospitality, looked over and his gaze followed Max’s pointed finger. “Mate, is that who I think it is?”
“Yeah man, I think so.” Lewis’ smile only grew as he agreed.
“Who are you pointing to?” GP asked.
Max hoped that there were no cameras around as he said, “the volunteer from Australia. The good one.”
He didn’t know how else to explain his respect for her in English; to him, she was good.
“It’ll be good to finally learn her name,” Lewis mused, scratching at his neat stubble.
“None of you know her name?” the engineer asked.
“No,” Lewis said. “I never had the chance to find her after the interviews.”
“I saw her the next day, I apologised for my behaviour to her,” Max commented. “But I forgot to ask her for her name.”
GP shook his head. “Alright well, I’ll see you in the garage. Don’t be long.”
Max nodded respectfully while Lewis said, “thank you.”
Then they both charged through the crowd towards the last place they saw the woman.
“Bets on her name?” Lewis asked, zipping his Mercedes suit around his hips.
“I don’t know. Something very Australian?”
“I feel like she’s a Layla or a Nira.”
"I think it's Sadie," came Lando's voice as he squished himself between the champions. "I asked Dave, one of the McLaren staff."
But when they reached the spot she had been, she'd vanished.
Max frowned and tried to use his height to see her but it was hopeless. Lewis pulled his phone out of nowhere and dialled a number. Lando just sat on the edge of a nearby pot plant and, as if by magic, Oscar appeared beside him in a matching McLaren t-shirt.
"Heya," Lewis said into his phone. "I'm gonna need a paddock pass for our garage."
A pause.
"No, ass. I haven't found someone for the weekend and I don't intend to. It's for the girl from Melbourne, the volunteer George told you about... Yes, I know Carmen wants to meet her, that's why I'm asking you for a paddock pass."
Lando laughed from his seat, something boisterous and loud that had surrounding staff glancing over. Oscar was smiling like he was the reason for Lando’s outburst. Max was glad to hear the McLaren driver’s laugh again, it had been too long since they had hung out.
"No, I don't know her last name. I haven't even confirmed her first name... I can't ask her, she's not in front of me... I don't know where she is, we saw her from a distance... Max, Lando and Oscar... Alright, fine. We'll find her."
Lewis hung up and sighed with a glance to the sky.
"They won't give you a pass?" Max guessed.
"They need her name first."
"Did you see who she was with?" Lando asked.
"Yeah," Lewis said. "Some paramedics. I recognised Mark, he's been the on-call medic for years."
Max mulled over the fact he hadn't noticed anyone around her. He also mulled over the excitement little Lando Norris was trying to squash.
"I know where the medic tent is." He almost leapt up from his perch.
Oscar gave Max a knowing smirk as they disappeared into the crowd.
——$——
Sadie had no idea the drivers had seen her. She was hoping that none of the drivers would remember her. She still hadn't seen their interviews from Melbourne and was clueless about the actions the FIA had taken to hand out penalties efficiently.
"Hungry?" Mark, a middle-aged paramedic with greying blonde hair and smile lines besides his eyes, asked.
"I am starving, please tell me there is somewhere I can get a decent sanga."
Mark frowned. "Sanga?"
"Sandwich," Sadie corrected. She was almost bouncing as she spotted the food trucks.
"You Australians are weird," Mark quipped but he couldn't hide his smile.
"And you English are uncultured," she returned.
She liked Mark, they'd met yesterday during practices and clicked. He was her supervisor during the free practice sessions and qualifying but she'd stuck by his side off track too. He didn't mind, he knew she was there, on the other side of the world, alone.
He'd told her at the volunteer's group dinner last night that she was living the dream he had wanted to at 20. He'd had a couple wines and would not shut up about how much his wife would love to meet her.
"Mark, what do you want?" she called over her shoulder as the reached the sandwich truck. When he didn't reply, she glanced behind her.
He was 100 metres back, talking to none other than Sir Lewis Hamilton. Sadie turned back around, remembering her interaction with the drivers in Melbourne.
Another body stepped up beside her, swathed in bright orange.
Correction: Papaya.
Sadie didn't turn, assuming it was a McLaren employee looking for some early lunch.
"It's a surprise to see you here." Lando Norris offered the icebreaker.
She turned at his voice and fought to keep her composure. His brown curls swished as he turned his head towards her. Oscar’s equally brown eyes warmed as he smiled and waved slightly from the otherside of Lando.
"I didn't think you'd remember me," she said truthfully. Sadie focused her eyes on the bridge of the older driver’s nose as she spoke, she didn't want to meet those ever-changing eyes. She'd already noted that they matched the day's grey sky.
"Most of us did." The driver shrugged. "Carmen, George's partner, wants to meet you. Lewis is trying to get you Mercedes paddock passes."
Sadie groaned at that, stepping closer to the food truck as the line moved forwards. "I'm not stepping near any of your garages unless I'm doing my job. Too many cameras, too many people."
Norris laughed. "Understandable, but Lewis is determined."
Sadie paused for a moment as the line moved again. "How about, I will come and meet Russell and Carmen after the race? I'll meet Carmen while Hamilton and Russell do their interviews and debriefs?"
The same brown curls swayed as Norris nodded. Piastri muttered, "I think they'll agree to that. All the cameras will be focused on the interviews and top three."
Sadie made an 'exactly' gesture and stepped up to the food truck with a goodbye wave.
By the time she had ordered her sandwich and Mark's signature wrap, the drivers had finished speaking with the paramedic.
He joined her while they waited.
"You never told me it was you who scolded Max in Melbourne," Mark noted.
Sadie muttered a curse. "I was hoping that everyone had forgotten about that. I lost my temper and I'm not proud of it."
"Lewis said that you stood up for yourself. Max doesn’t hold a grudge."
"I scolded him like a school teacher."
"You did call him a child."
"Angry, remember?"
"Sandwich and wrap for Sadie!" the food vendor shouted.
She stepped up, collected their food and handed her wrap to Mark.
"I didn't tell anyone about it because I don't like media attention," she told him, but she could feel her sweaty palms. "I hate how the media follows the drivers. They have to fight for a private life, and I hate that. Verstappen was angry, I was angry, and that interaction was something between the drivers and I. It had nothing to do with the fan's consumption of the race."
Mark hummed his agreement around his wrap. He hadn’t noted her shifting feet.
"The media circus doesn't know what happened, and they don't need to. His reaction was fair, and they don't need to be involved."
Sadie watched something pass over Mark's face but she couldn't place what it was. She devoured her sandwich instead.
Let me know what you think!
credits to saradika-graphics for the banner :)
Masterlist | Series Masterlist | AO3 link
Taglist: @snubug @cmleitora @izzy-marvel @aquangxl @morenofilm @viennakarma @simpingcorner @randomgirlnumber-13 @leilanixx @spookystitchery @itsjustkhaos
#f1#formula 1#f1 fic#formula one#lando norris#max verstappen#lewis hamilton#f1 x oc#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#sunsets and self doubt#oscar piastri
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sunsets and self doubt (and words left unspoken) - 1.
Main AO3 tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, 2024 Formula 1 Season
Sadie's Faceclaim: Maia Mitchell (but you can visualise her howver you want :) )
warnings: swearing, mentions of a car accident.
comments: The revamped Get Your Shit Together is here! Let me know if you enjoy the new version :)
Sadie had to force a deep breath through her system. The podium sitters were not going to like the news she had. The cooldown room’s walls felt a little like they were closing in on her.
“Alright, listen up!” She called, feeling a bit like she was talking to a random club team. “The stewards have finalised the penalties and we have two drivers dropping down.”
There was a quiet chorus of curses from Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen. Oscar Piastri, quiet from his third place chair, frowned.
“Lance Stroll was given two 5-second penalties for track limits. I’m told that he served one in a pit-stop, but the other took him down to 9th.” Sadie tried to give them all a gentle smile.
It might not have come across that way as she braced herself for the next one.
“Max Verstappen, you, and Pierre Gasly, were both given a 10-second penalty for overtaking under yellow flag conditions.” A small cry of outrage came from Charles Leclerc. “This was decided during your last lap and was not conveyed to your engineers in time for them to tell you.”
Max Verstappen’s face pulled into a glare of fury, while Charles Leclerc buried his face in his hands.
“What do you mean, 10-second penalty?”
Sadie hoped he didn’t explode at her during the next piece of news. She looked down at the iPad in her hands and read the standings.
“Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri and Charles Leclerc were all under ten seconds behind you, so you will now be P4.”
“What?! Are you serious?!” The world champion did explode. “Pierre overtook me and I was just taking it back!”
It had been a long weekend for Sadie. She had never been to an F1 race before, let alone volunteered at one; she knew she would be busy but she hadn’t expected to be thrust into learning something the hard way at 7 am. And again at 10. Again at 2. And now again at 4:28 pm.
“I understand that-“ She held up a placating hand, reining in a scathing reply.
“Obviously you don’t if you are giving me a penalty for -“
Sadie cut him off with a sharp laugh. “Who do you think I am, Verstappen? Huh?”
He stopped leaning towards her, something he hadn’t noticed himself doing.
She took advantage of his hesitation. “I am a volunteer. What power do you think I have to change this for you?” she spat.
A scowl appeared on his face as he began to lean in again. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Sadie saw Piastri start forward, his papaya suit around his hips. She put a hand out to stop him.
“I know who I am talking to. You are a three time world champion who will survive the depths of P4. You are Max Verstappen the reigning Champion, not Max Verstappen the upset child! Get your shit together!”
He stopped at that. All three, no four, as Lando Norris had appeared in the doorway, of the drivers did. Piastri and Leclerc looked ready to jump forward and restrain him.
Sadie saw the anger leave his eyes and said to everyone, “if you’re all sick of the FIA imposing these penalties just before interviews, maybe you should all say something. Together, as the drivers.”
It was Charles who shrugged. “If something happens in the final laps, it is fair for it to reach us after the race.”
“Yea,” Lando agreed. “But not half an hour after the chequered flag.”
All the drivers conceded that, recalling the penalties of Jeddah two weeks prior.
“I’m going to read out your standings and you’re going to stand in that spot. Do not“ -Sadie glared at Max- “complain to me, I cannot help you.”
And read them out she did. Leclerc had won, Piastri had come a close second and Norris an even closer third.
A few hundred metres away, and outside of the cooldown room, Verstappen silently simmered in his P4 position. When she left the room, Fernando Alonso smiled at Sadie from P5. Lewis Hamilton, in P6, held a fist out for a fist bump.
Sadie waited for her next job as the rest of the grid lined up in their order. They went out one by one and did their interviews.
Sadie sighed once they were all gone. At least, she’d thought they were all gone. Carlos Sainz, who had crashed out in lap 4, hadn’t gone out for his interviews yet.
“We all heard that. I don’t know if it was brave or stupid.”
Sadie jumped and shook her head. “I don’t know either and to be honest, I’m too tired to care. He was angry, I understand that, but my patience has been worn very thin.”
Sainz hummed thoughtfully as he left with a soft wave, red Ferrari suit right over his tensed shoulders.
Sadie pulled in a deep breath. Another volunteer told her that she was done for the day, and she gathered her gear. She’d be back in the morning to help pack down the equipment.
Sadie Leo needed some time to contemplate how she’d just yelled at Max fucking Verstappen.
--:--$--:--
“Charles!” The reporter called him over. “This is your first race of the season! How does that feel?”
“I mean,” he chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. “I found out in the cooldown room, we all did. I’m still shocked! I don’t know what happened with the penalty or the flags, I’m just happy to have another win!”
“You weren’t sure that you won?”
Charles laughed through his, “no!”
After a small pause he added, “I think a volunteer was given the standing from the stewards. She told us, and told some of us off for complaining.”
“We saw the beginning of an argument between an official and Max, but the feed was cut. What happened there?”
“Ah well, we are all pretty annoyed by the penalties; that safety car was twenty laps ago and we were only just being told. It is frustrating, we are all frustrated."
Oscar Piastri's interview was similar.
"That was very well done out there, Oscar. How does the P2 in your home race feel?"
"I'm still trying to process the fact that I scored a podium in my home race. It's an incredible feeling."
"You were standing here when Charles spoke about the late penalties. Do you agree with his sentiment?"
"Yeah," the Australian answered without hesitation. "Frustration is the right word for what we're all feeling."
With a nod and a thank you, he handed back the microphone and walked away.
Lando stepped up.
"Congratulations," the reporter began. "That is another double podium for McLaren, how does it feel?"
"I'm gonna be honest, undeserved. Don't get me wrong, I think I did well today and I'm proud of Oscar and our team, but I didn't cross that line in third. I don't know the full story about Max's penalty but it just seems undeserved, you know? He should have kept the win. I should be P4, not Max. The FIA needs to sort it out."
"Wow, that's a strong opinion. Will you get in trouble for saying that live?"
Lando shrugged and pursed his lips. "If I do, I do."
His PR manager pulled him away before he could say anything more incriminating.
Then Max stepped up, still fuming.
"Max," the reporter began.
"I know what you're going to ask," he interrupted. "Yes, I'm upset about the penalty. Gasly passed me under yellow flag conditions. I was told that I was allowed to take the position back. It is an unfair penalty."
"Charles told us that a volunteer told all the drivers off for complaining. Surely you have a right to complain?"
Max let out a surprised huff of laughter. "Charles is being Charles! That volunteer told me off. I blamed her for the penalty and she put me back in my place. Volunteers don't dictate penalties and can't change them."
Max shrugged and moved to hand the microphone back to the reporter. She held up a hand to ask one last question.
"Do you think the stewards should revoke the penalty?"
"Yes. They shouldn't have given me a penalty and they shouldn't have handed it out half an hour after the safety car. I think that all of the drivers are sick of being told what place we finished after the race."
"Thank you for your time, Max. It was still an incredible race."
He nodded his thanks and moved on.
It was the same reply over and over.
We are tired of the FIA handing out penalties well after the fact.
We are frustrated.
We are annoyed.
We. We. We.
Sadie never watched any of the interviews. She didn’t watch the footage from the cooldown room, in which her face is hidden but her voice is alarmingly clear. She didn't realise the impact she'd had on the drivers.
As she wiped a hand across her sweaty brow the next day, she wondered if they had said anything. She was about to ask her friend, Aurora, when a shadow fell over her.
She turned to see Max Verstappen.
"Hi?" She frowned.
"I'm sorry" he blurted, squeezing his eyes shut in mortification at his slip up.
"What?"
"About yesterday," he muttered, opening those blue eyes. "I shouldn't have tried to intimidate you."
Sadie laughed and put down the tent peg she'd been using to remove other tent pegs. "The key word there is tried."
Max smiled at her laughter. He chuckled a little and stared down at his feet in the dirt.
"But," Sadie continued, "thank you for apologising. I didn't take it to heart. You’re trying to break records. Yesterday, something probably slipped through your fingers and it made you angry. I know, so it's okay."
Max's eyes widened at her nonchalant statement about his motivation.
"What?" she asked impatiently. "I figured out your goal? It wasn't hard, Verstappen."
"No, it's not that."
"What, then?"
"You had already forgiven me?"
"Yes, I forgave you the moment you left the room. You were angry and that was your response to the anger."
"That doesn't make it okay," he pressed. He didn't know why he was pushing her, she’d already forgiven him.
"Which is why you will never do it again." She pointed a dangerous finger at his face.
"Okay," he chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender.
"Good. Now I’ve got things to do and you probably have somewhere you have to be.” Sadie pointed at the gazebo and then the bag it belonged to.
“Right, yes. I have a flight in a few hours, so I need to get to the airport. Have a great day, yeah? It was amazing to meet you.” He stepped backwards, with a thumbs up.
“It was an honour to meet you too Max Verstappen. Never forget who you are.”
Max had to take a deep breath as he strode away.
Never forget who you are.
You are Max Verstappen the world champion, not Max Verstappen the upset child.
He made a promise to himself then, and to Sadie, that he would hold himself to a higher standard. He could be better, he should be better, he would be better.
Let me know what you think!
credits to saradika-graphics for the banner :)
Masterlist | Series Masterlist | AO3 link
Taglist: @snubug @cmleitora @izzy-marvel @aquangxl @morenofilm @viennakarma @simpingcorner @leilanixx
#formula 1#f1 fic#formula one#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 x oc#f1 imagine#max verstappen#sunsets and self doubt#get your shit together
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sunsets and self doubt (and words left unspoken) masterlist
ao3 link :)
She looked up to see Lando staring at her leg. He was lying on an ambulance stretcher.
"Sadie," he croaked, his eyes rising to hers.
She didn't look down, a part of her knew she didn't want to know. Sadie kept his eye contact as she tried to stand upright. "I'm okay, Lando. I'm okay." She reassured.
Someone stepped into her line of sight and she lost view of his face. They hauled him into the waiting ambulance.
---
Sadie Leo doesn't know what love is. She doesn't know how to receive a healthy familial, platonic, romantic love.
But maybe she can learn?
1 - "Who do you think I am, Verstappen?"
2 - "It's a surprise to see you here."
3 - "You're gonna be okay, pretty boy."
#formula 1#f1#f1 fic#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 x oc#f1 imagine#sunsets and self doubt#get your shit together#max verstappen#lando norris#oscar piastri#lewis hamilton being a dad#max verstappen being an older brother
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Get Your Shit Together - Status Update
Hi everyone!
Basically, I haven't been happy with where Get Your Shit Together has been going. I've decided to rewrite a lot of it and restructure the story.
I'm going to keep what I've already publish available but there will be a note about the rewrite on my masterlist. The new title is "sunsets and self doubt (and words left unspoken)". It will be available both here and on ao3.
In the meantime! Here's a taste of the pinterest page :)
Taglist: @snubug @cmleitora @izzy-marvel @aquangxl @morenofilm @viennakarma @simpingcorner
#formula 1#f1 fic#formula one#f1#get your shit together#lando norris#max verstappen#oscar piastri#lewis hamilton
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Vicious Elegance
This has no connection to anymore my other works and is completely inspired by Pinterest and the idea of lovers to enemies.
My other works ➡️ masterlist
He is sprawled across an ornate armchair when she enters the room, a goblet hanging from his long fingers and golden eyes closed.
"You’re drunk,” she snaps.
A blonde curl falls away from his eyes as he tilts his head up to meet her gaze. “I’m still sober enough to kill you, darling, so don’t push your luck.”
She ignores the his vicious elegance. “What are you doing here?”
He raises the wine-filled goblet languidly and closes his eyes again. “A better question would be how did I get here, Kamari.”
“That’s obvious, Anson, you left the window open.”
As if to prove her point, a breeze drifted in, making Kamari’s long, black hair sway.
Anson hums thoughtfully and muses, “I suppose that ale in the tavern may have affected me faster that I thought.”
“Answer the fucking question before I throw you out of said window,” Kamari snarls.
“Fine, fine,” he grumbles. He draws himself up and casually steps to a side table with four different bottles of alcohol. “I’m here to get blissfully drunk without paying for a single drop.”
Kamari is astounded at Anson’s pure arrogance. “The Queen and half of the kingdom want you dead and you’re here for free alcohol.”
“Wow,” he deadpans as he pours a second goblet. “A month ago is was the whole kingdom, things are looking up.”
He holds the goblet out to her, golden eyes sparkling with amusement. “Regain control of your jaw, dear, and join me.”
Kamari snaps her jaw closed and glares. “I should gut you,” she says instead.
“Yes,” Anson agrees, flopping back into the arm chair and sipping from his cup. “Yes, you should. You won’t though.”
“You betrayed me.”
“I did.”
“Why?” It comes out as a croak, filled with far more emotion than Kamari had intended.
All of the arrogance and seduction fades from Anson’s soft features and he looked away. “It was the only way to gain Aramis’ trust.”
“Don’t even try to look ashamed,” Kamari spits, giving in to her rage. “If you regretted it, why did you stay away? Why didn’t you come back? Why didn’t you come home?!”
Her voice breaks on the final word.
It breaks Anson’s walls and he rubs a hand across his face.
“Becaue he had to believe that I hated you, Kamari. If he suspected that I had any attachment to you, he’d have used you against me.”
“If he’d have used you against me, then why did you chose him?”
“Because the Queen was already using you against me!” He shouts, lifting his face to show Kamari all of him. All of his sorrow and rage and regret.
She sees it all in the watering of his eyes, the set of jaw, the corners of his mouth. The eyes she had once loved, the law she had once traced with her fingertips, the corners of a mouth she had once kissed.
Once loved, once traced, once kissed.
“What,” her voice low and dangerous, “are you talking about?”
—
I hope you enjoyed :)
My other works ➡️ masterlist
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Get Your Shit Together - Chapter 10
genre: 2024 and onwards AU, with the 2024 starting grid.
pairing: Romantic!oc x Lando Norris and/or Oscar Piastri. Platonic!oc x the whole grid.
warnings: angst. max being annoying. idiots in love (yeah its a warning, trust me)
Masterlist / Part 1
comments: this chapter it's pretty Sadie/Oscar heavy :) and I'm not sorry for how long it took me to write...
But [Lando] felt that he’d missed out on months with Sadie. It felt like he had lost time to catch up on.
Sadie, much to her own shagrin, felt similar. So she spent the next two weeks building a dynamic with five drivers.
She’d given Max permission to share her number with any driver that asked for it; she received texts from Lewis and Daniel.
Max never insisted on anything more than he already had. A monthly check in that she was alive and okay. But Sadie felt less like her presence would put Max in danger with each passing day, and opened up to him more. It was only really about things she liked, movies, books and music, but it was a step.
Lewis had facetimed her almost immediately. He’d said it was too ‘see if she was lying to him’ with a concerned little smile. They spoke for hours, well into the night for Sadie. At one point, he’d insisted that she set the phone where he could see her walk around so he could be sure she’d healed.
Lewis, nearing 40, earned the title ‘Old Man’ when he said that Sadie should go and sleep.
Daniel earned the nickname ‘WA’s Bitch’ when he’d bragged about Western Australia to make her laugh. It had worked, even if Sadie had stuck true to her ‘Victoria is better’ opinion.
The Perth-born man had first contacted her to make sure she was okay. He didn’t thank her for what she’d done at Silverstone, everyone else had done that already and the older driver knew his friend was okay. He didn’t know if Sadie was and he’d made it a mission to make her laugh at any opportunity.
Sadie was one hundred percent sure that Daniel had figured out some details about her life that Max hadn’t. The older driver had more experience with Australian society and cultural expectations. But he didn’t ask and Sadie hoped he never would.
Lando, on the other hand, asked everything. He texted sporadically, at random times of the day or night in both her timezone and his. He sent her behind the scenes photos of anything and everything he was working on. Most of the time it was a silly photo of Max Fewtrell.
He wouldn’t send a large text, it would be six or seven small ones that culminated in his point or opinion on a topic.
Sadie never answered any questions she didn’t want to, and Lando respected that.
Oscar rarely asked anything, except for how her day was and if she was free to talk. His texts were consistent. Full conversations, rather than split by 4 hours like her conversations with Lando.
Her fellow Melbournian never asked about her past, but he would send her memes he found funny and links to instagram posts of cute animals.
For two weeks, there was a pattern. Sadie would text Max and Oscar about her life as it was then, like if her shift was bad or if her favourite regulars had come by the bar that day. She’d reply to whatever chaos Lando or Daniel had sent her and laugh at their antics. She’d call Lewis a couple times each week and talk about how her life had changed in the 6 months since Silverstone.
It was a nice pattern. Sadie tackled the more recent past with Lewis’ help, laughed about the present with Daniel and Lando, and thought of what she wanted after talking to Max or Oscar.
They were simple conversations but she was building some bonds with people she liked.
It was cracked by a simple question.
Sadie's faint smile fell to a frown as she realised how stubborn Daniel was going to be.
Sadie hoped she’d conveyed how serious she was. As far as she was concerned, there was no family to talk about and no family to spend Christmas with.
Sadie had no family.
Her phone chimed with another text from Daniel.
She did.
Come to Monaco.
Come to Europe.
You don’t have to pay for a thing, kid.
Sadie sighed and, opting to ignore Max, called Oscar.
"Sadie? You've never called, everything okay?" he mumbled, obviously half asleep.
"Everything's fine, Piastri, calm down," she deadpanned.
There was a sigh of relief and a rustle of sheets on the other end of the line.
"Are you in bed? Mate, you're 23 and in bed by 10?" Sadie teased.
He'd returned to his mum's house for the holidays and had told Sadie as soon as he'd flown in. She knew it was an invitation to make plans, see each other face to face, but his ability to draw a crowd wherever he went nagged at her.
She heard his soft chuckle as he said, "I went karting today, I'm exhausted."
"Should I let you go then?" Her voice was still teasing but she knew she should let him sleep.
"No," he murmured. "No. I have nowhere to be tomorrow, we can talk."
"Really? No last minute shopping tomorrow?"
"Nah, that's all been done already."
"Organised," she mused.
“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed, dry sarcasm dripping from his voice.
But it changed.
“Sadie.” Sheets rustled and moved as he stood up and she heard him move about his room. “Why did you call?”
“I-“
She didn’t have an answer for him. Say nothing, her mind screamed. Say everything, something else argued.
“Sadie?”
“Relax, Piastri, I'm not in trouble.” She drawled, as if she had nothing to care about. “I’m bored and I didn’t expect you to be half-asleep by 9:45.”
Her phone vibrated in her hand. A text from Max. Ignored.
“Sure,” Oscar replied and Sadie knew he hadn’t believed her.
But he didn’t ask again.
Instead, Sadie heard the rattle of keys.
“How about we meet? Go for a drive together and talk face to face?”
“Now?”
“Yeah.”
What?
As if spurred on by her silence, Oscar added, “I know a car park, we can swap into your car, or mine. We can drive around, and talk.”
“Your car is a bright orange McLaren.”
She could hear the grin in his voice, as he said. “It’s papaya.”
“My point still stands,” she said through a laugh.
“There’s always your car.”
Sadie’s heart was pulled in two. Oscar was offering a distraction, and moreover, he was offering a tangible link in their friendship. But there was risk, and if they were seen, was she ready?
“Alright fine, but don’t bring the McLaren,” she conceded.
Her phone vibrated with the address, like Oscar had already typed it out. Maybe he had.
--$--
Three hours later, Sadie was laughing so hard her ribs hurt. Oscar, cleaning the dashboard of Sadie’s car with a tissue, was apologising for spilling the lemonade.
“Sadie,” he whined with another apologetic smile, “I’ll buy us more!”
“No!” She laughed. “No! You’ll spill it again!”
“Hey!” he cried, but he dissolved into a fit of giggles too. “You’re the one who said Alexander Hamilton was more famous than Lewis Hamilton!”
Sadie laughed louder. “In America, I said. In America! Ask Logan!”
Oscar pulled his phone out and texted the Williams driver, still giggling.
“He’s going to agree with me,” Sadie added.
She couldn’t stop her eyes while he wasn’t looking. Her gaze traced the swoop of his unkempt hair and the soft crinkle of the skin next to his eyes as he smiled. She watched the way his eyebrows curved and his gaze flickered between the different letters he was typing.
She didn’t expect him to look up.
Brown eyes met brown eyes.
There was an unmeasured heartbeat, an involuntary pause. Laughter died, falling away to soft giggles and then silence. Loud, irrevocable silence. The only light was his phone, illuminating the absence of noise.
But one thing was clear in a hundred different ways.
A connection. A link. Something.
Oscar looked away first.
“I know,” he whispered into the dark.
He always does, a little voice whispered.
“Know what?” Sadie asked.
“That you’re not ready. That you may never be ready.”
She wanted to ask what he meant by ready. She knew what she meant, but did he mean the same thing? Sadie wanted to know.
She didn’t ask.
“But either way,” he continued. The young driver’s eyes were firmly forward. “I’ve enjoyed tonight. Seeing you in person and seeing you laugh has been…urrm, well it’s been reassuring.”
“Reassuring?” Sadie didn’t take her eyes off him.
“I- we- we were worried about you,” Oscar said, an edge creeping into his voice. “Emotionally, I mean. You were so tense the last time I saw you and I know the trial probably made it worse…”
His hand went to his hair, sweeping away from his face. It had grown again, into his eyes. A part of Sadie wanted to tuck the brown strands behind his ear.
Oscar’s face turned, eyes catching her gaze again before he glanced down, like the handbrake was the most interesting mechanical marvel he’d ever seen.
Sadie was going to break the new silence with some kind of confession, about what she wasn’t sure, when Oscar yawned.
She laughed, and nudged his shoulder with a hand. “Come on, Piastri. Let’s get you home.”
His smile, and that crinkle of skin next to his eyes, returned.
The drive from the small lookout to the car park in which Oscar left his mum’s car was short. Sadie made conversation by asking about Oscar’s season.
“I’m proud of you, you know,” she commented as he opened the passenger door.
He paused and looked back at her. “Thank you. And thank you for congratulating me on Qatar.”
“Max told you?”
Oscar hauled himself out of her car, and turned back, leaning through the doorway.
“Yeah, after some slight manipulation.”
Sadie returned his bright smile with her own. “I bet it didn’t take much.”
“No, not really,” Oscar confessed.
With a wave of her hand and a tilt of her head, Sadie said, “go home, Piastri. Text me when you get there.”
“Drive safe.”
“You too.”
Oscar closed her door gently, waved through the window and walked to his mothers car. Sadie waited for him to enter it before she, once again, disappeared into the night.
___
let the slow(ish) burn, slow burn.
masterlist :)
Taglist: @snubug
@cmleitora
@izzy-marvel
@aquangxl
@morenofilm
@viennakarma
@simpingcorner
#f1#formula 1#f1 fic#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 x oc#get your shit together#lando norris x oc#oscar piastri x oc#max verstappen being an older brother
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… incoming?
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oooo, im excited for this!
100?!
Y'all... We hit 100 followers and I'm so keen to celebrate it!
Started posting here to rid my brain of it's rot (didn't work) but I'm happy that y'all have enjoyed the content!
Here's my celebratory proposal...
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Oh, how this is aging…
Press Conference, Monaco 2023
"What do you look for in a teammate?"
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Get Your Shit Together - Chapter 9
genre: 2024 and onwards AU, with the 2024 starting grid.
pairing: Romantic!oc x Oscar Piastri and/or Lando Norris. Platonic!oc x the whole grid.
warnings: swearing. Mentions of physical crimes and organised crime. Arguing. Talk about the accident from Chapter 4 (again). Alcohol mentions.
Masterlist / Part 1
comments:
Sadie had been snappy all day. Snappy at her phone, her car keys, her car, her house keys, her house. Anything that didn’t work the first time, she snapped at.
It was a blessing that she hadn’t been given a shift that day. She might’ve snapped at a customer if her composure had slipped.
The reason: The Trial.
The prosecution had been updating Sadie on the progress of the trial, and the projected date of a verdict.
It was the date. 9th of December.
Sadie had been trying to distract herself, mostly by baking up a storm. Her roommate, Suruthi, was going to have plenty of baked goods for her work's Christmas party.
Two batches of chocolate chip cookies had already been baked. A batch of brownies was in the oven, and a batch of double chocolate cookie mix was waiting for a free space. That was when the phone rang.
"Hi, hello?" Sadie answered without checking the number.
"We won, Sadie," came the sharp voice of the prosecutor. "All four were convicted."
She couldn't control the sob that left her.
"That's amazing, thank you. Thank you, Sharon. Thank you."
"You're welcome, darling. You're welcome."
Sharon, with a parting wish for Sadie's safety, hung up. Sadie stood, frozen, in her kitchen.
The last two days had been just right. Max had won that morning, Melbourne time, and Sadie had stayed up to watch him. She'd watched Oscar fight again and again for his position. Something about his stoic determination had Sadie smiling at her phone in those wee hours.
Their faces, plus Lando's adoration as he watched their podium, came to Sadie's mind as she slid to her kitchen floor.
So she texted them. She'd been aching to text Lando and Oscar. She'd known that she could have, but her sleepless nights of overthinking had stopped her.
She wasn't going to let them stop this moment.
----$----
Lando's breath caught in his throat when he saw the message. Hands shook as he answered as fast as he could.
Lando knew that Oscar was right, and that he should take it slow. But he couldn't.
He called her. It went to her voicemail.
"Hi! This is Sadie Leo's number, I will return your call when I have an opportunity." Beep.
"Hey, Sadie. It's Lando. I didn't know your last name was Leo. Call me when you can."
He didn't know what else to say so he hung up.
Jon smiled at him from the driver's seat. It was the Monday after Abu Dhabi and they were headed back the airport. Rather than join the celebrations, Lando and Jon had decided to head back to MTC and focus on his ankle's recovery and his return to F1. He hated to miss out on a good party with Max, who he hoped would take Oscar to a party. Lando also hated that he was not going to be there to fully celebrate Oscar's fourth place in the championship. It was a massive moment for his friend and teammate.
But Lando knew he had to keep his eyes on the prize. World Driver Champion.
His thoughts weren’t on his goal though, they were on the one person he had thought of everyday since Silverstone.
Sadie. Or Sadie Leo as he had just discovered her full name.
He wondered what Max had said to her. And what she had said to him. Lando wondered if she was okay, and if the young woman had been alone during the trial.
Lando wasn’t stupid. He had meant what he’d said in Melbourne. You’re good at protecting. He knew that Sadie had pushed him away because of the danger he could have put her in.
He also knew that Sadie had kept him away to protect herself. She had put her emotional walls up in the same way she had shielded him in Silverstone; letting one part of her take the hit to protect something she had deemed as more important.
Lando wondered if Sadie had pushed away more people in her life.
“She texted,” he told Jon.
“You said,” he relied evenly. “Is everything okay?”
“She only said one word. Maybe. I think that means the trial is over and they’re all locked up.”
Jon didn’t need an elaboration. Lando had told him on a late night plane from London to Monaco.
“So what’s the plan?”
“Oscar thinks we should keep giving her space. He thinks we could scare her off and she’ll vanish again.”
Jon hummed his acknowledgment as Lando talked.
“I know he’s right but I want to see her. I- Well-.”
Lando wasn’t sure how to phrase how he felt.
“I think,” Jon said gently, “you should follow Oscar’s plan. Talk to her, text her as much as you want to, but let her make a decision about seeing you face to face. There will be cameras wherever you go, and she doesn’t want that.”
“What if she’d be okay with it now? What if she was just avoiding the cameras because of that gang?”
Jon just shrugged and let his words sink in.
Lando knew his friend’s idea was a good one. He knew that Oscar was right.
But he felt that he’d missed out on months with Sadie. It felt like he had lost time to catch up on.
----$----
Just a casual Redhanded reference because I love their podcast :)
I know this was short but it’s plot heavy. A big turning moment for Sadie.
Taglist: @snubug
@cmleitora
@izzy-marvel
@aquangxl
@morenofilm
@viennakarma
@simpingcorner
#formula 1#formula one#f1#f1 x oc#f1 fic#get your shit together#max verstappen#lando norris#f1 fanfic#oscar piastri#lando x reader#oscar x reader
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100?!
Y'all... We hit 100 followers and I'm so keen to celebrate it!
Started posting here to rid my brain of it's rot (didn't work) but I'm happy that y'all have enjoyed the content!
Here's my celebratory proposal...
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Get Your Shit Together - Chapter 8
genre: 2024 and onwards AU, with the 2024 starting grid.
pairing: Romantic!oc x that triangle y’all voted on. Platonic!oc x the whole grid.
warnings: swearing, mentions of physical crimes, discussions about gangs, mentions of bars and alcohol. Besties arguing. talk about the accident in chapter 4.
context: Part 1 and Masterlist…
comments: this is a little bit of a time skip filler chapter. But it also sets up Oscar's feelings. I went for the whole he fell first/he fell harder but instead of about each other, about Sadie.
Oscar was frustrated. Very frustrated. It was a description that barely covered how he felt.
He knew his team could see it, and knew equally that they had no idea how to handle it. They had worked with drivers who exploded far quicker than him did but Oscar never so much as boiled.
The calmest man on the grid was simmering away and no one knew what to do.
It was Thursday, and Oscar was already in Abu Dhabi, prepping himself for media day, but it had been over a week since the trial had started.
Someone’s safety had never mattered to him so much before. Oscar wasn't surprised at the feeling, Sadie was dealing with some very dangerous people. The Australian was surprised at how it had consumed him. He was pacing. Pacing.
“For fucks sake!” Came Pato’s voice through the wall between their driver’s rooms. “I can hear you, Oscar! I love you man, but go for a run or something!”
And Oscar did just that. He didn’t even put headphones on. He just knocked on the wall twice to let Pato know he’d heard him and left.
Oscar pushed himself. Hard. He ran and he ran and he ran. Nothing mattered but his feet drumming against whatever surface he found himself on. He kept running and running until someone pulled their e-scooter up right in front of him.
“Shit,” he halted abruptly. “Sorry, I-“
“What the hell, Piastri?” It was Max.
“I needed to move,” he muttered.
“You've been running for an hour. You're going to exhaust yourself before the weekend even starts. What’s wrong?”
"It's Sadie," he admitted on a deep breath.
Max, pulling his Red Bull cap off, swept a hand through dirty blonde hair. "I haven't heard."
"Me neither."
"She can look after herself."
But Oscar noted the tightness to the Champion's jaw and a raised eyebrow told Max just as much.
"Let's go." The Dutchman muttered and led the walk back towards the hospitalities.
"What?" Oscar pressed.
"Nothing."
Frustration rippled in his gut again. "You two love to hide things."
"Get over it. These aren't my secrets to tell."
"Fine."
There was an uncomfortable silence but Oscar hoped it would prompt Max to say something about Sadie. Anything.
It worked.
"She congratulated you on Qatar."
"I wish I could thank her."
"Maybe you can one day."
"At this rate, that's a big maybe."
"Yes, but there is a chance."
"And I'll hold onto it," Oscar promised. He had promised himself something similar when she'd driven away from his mother's house.
The rest of the walk was silent until Pato, surrounded by three of McLaren's media team, saw them.
"There he is!"
And Oscar was handed a bottle of water, a wrap and thrust into discussions for that week's Youtube content.
----$----
"That's P3, mate," Oscar's engineer relayed and he let out a massive sigh of relief.
"Thank you everyone," he said into his radio. "That was a hard one. Thank you to everyone in the garage and back at the factory."
"Well done, Oscar. You've ended fourth overall." Came Zak Brown's voice.
Oscar couldn't find the energy to respond. He pulled his car to a stop in front of the 3 sign. He saw Charles and Max holding each others forearms, their helmets together and a string of laughter and shouts coming from the two. Oscar hauled himself out of his car and flipped his visor up.
The McLaren mechanics pulled him into massive hugs and slaps to the helmet. He laughed and laughed, the sound bubbling from him in surprised bursts.
He had beaten Lewis Hamilton, George Russel and Carlos Sainz. In a McLaren, he'd outlasted, outpaced, outmatched both the Mercedes and a Ferrari. And he'd done it consistently enough to end fourth. Fourth overall.
Max turned and, Charles mimicking the gesture, beckoned him over. He joined them and the elation in his heart could not be matched. He may have earnt P3 before, hell he'd gotten a better result the weekend before, but he was standing, laughing, with the confirmed champion and the runner up. Oscar was standing with them.
Time blurred as they made their way to a cool room, and then to the podium. Up there, holding his trophy with a broad smile on his face, Oscar had a thought that stuck with him.
I wonder if Sadie is watching.
----$----
She was.
Sadie smile at her phone, amidst the pitch black of her bedroom at 2 am in Melbourne. Max, the man she'd ego-checked all those months ago, was a four-time World Driver Champion and, smiling broadly beside him was Oscar Piastri. The feed cut to Lando, looking up at Oscar and Max with more pride on his face than Sadie had thought possible. His teammate, and his friend were both up there and grinning down at him.
Even though the screen Sadie could see the laughter in Oscar's eyes.
She hoped that she'd be able to congratulate them in person one day. Maybe one day.
----$----
Angst is coming. Idk when, but it is. Plus, I haven't made y'all any promises about comfort and I won't.
Taglist;
@snubug @cmleitora @izzy-marvel @aquangxl @morenofilm @viennakarma @simpingcorner
#f1#f1 fic#formula 1#formula one#f1 x oc#lando norris#f1 fanfic#get your shit together#max verstappen#oscar piastri#charles leclerc
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Get Your Shit Together - Chapter 7
genre: 2024 and onwards AU, with the 2024 starting grid.
pairing: Romantic!oc x that triangle y’all voted on. Platonic!oc x the whole grid.
warnings: swearing, mentions of physical crimes, discussions about gangs, mentions of bars and alcohol. Besties arguing. talk about the accident in chapter 4.
context: Part 1 and Masterlist…
comments: here’s the Max and Sadie content I promised. I like to reveal details slowly, as you can tell. Also, I’m writing Oscar like he’s a genius because I can see him putting the pieces together before anyone else.
Also, I'm not referring to AlphaTauri as Visa Cash App Racing Bulls or whatever their rumoured name is.
The three time World Driver Champion grumbled as his phone buzzed. He was tired of people texting him. He wanted one day of peace.
Lando: you should have told me
Max: Told you what?
Lando: why sadie disappeared
Max froze and knew his peaceful day was gone. Either Lewis had spilled, which was unlikely, or Lando had found the Australian girl.
Max: Who told you?
Lando: she did
Lando: you should have told me
“Goddamn it, Lando,” he muttered and pulled himself off of his couch.
Max: I take it you found her
Lando: by accident
Lando: but yeah we found her
Max sighed and tapped the call icon. This would go so much faster if he wasn’t wasting time typing.
Lando picked up in two rings.
“Witness fucking protection, Max,” he greeted.
“Is she with you now?” It was the first thing on Max’s mind.
“No.“
He couldn’t see Lando’s face but Max could hear him pacing.
“Lando-“
“Witness protection, Max. Gangs! Attempted assault!” The boy was raging.
But Max picked up the details Sadie had never told him.
“She’s told you more than she did me. What attempted assault?”
Lando didn’t reply as another voice, faint from distance, interrupted them.
“No, I’m not giving you the phone. Go ta- Hey!”
There was a scuffle and Max Fewtrell’s came over the line.
“Max, mate. Can you stop this dumb fuck from doing something stupid?”
“It’s Lando Norris,” the Dutchman commented.
“Yeah, that’s the fucking problem.”
There was more background arguments which had Max impatiently tapping his foot.
“Right, I’ve got the phone now,” came Oscar’s accent. “And you’re on speaker. Do you want me to explain?”
Max grunted an affirmative.
“Right. Sadie works a bar at a restaurant about 45 minutes drive from here. Lando and Max went there for dinner because Daniel said it was good and low key. Lando recognised her, she recognised him. She drove him back to my mums house and apparently ‘explained what she could’ on the way.”
Max could hear irritation in the young Australian’s voice and wondered why he was riled up.
“Okay, and now she’s gone again?”
“Yes,” Lando whined.
“And she left without giving you a way to contact her,” the Dutchman guessed.
“Yes,” Lando grumbled.
“Sadie has our numbers,” Oscar added. “Lando’s and mine.”
“She’ll text you if she wants to.” Max tried to reassure.
“Will she?” Oscar asked.
“I don’t know,” the Dutchman admitted.
“She unpredictable,” Lando observed.
“No shit,” came Max Fewtrell’s voice. “She took your fucking car to the leg for you. If anything is unpredictable, that’s it!”
“Right, I’m going. You three can argue amongst yourselves, but trust me on one thing. Don’t chase her. Sadie is scared and she would rather hurt you than risk herself.”
“I don’t believe that,” Lando stated. “She risked herself for me once. She did it without thinking, she-”
“Lando, she was doing her job.” Max cut him off and he flinched at the harshness of his own voice. “I’m going. Don’t do anything stupid.”
And he hung up.
Then pulled up a contact he hadn’t touched since the beginning of November.
She answered faster than Lando had.
“He called you, didn’t he?” Sadie’s voice was a little distant and Max could hear the road noise. He knew her car had bluetooth and wasn’t concerned.
“Yeah,” Max sighed out the confirmation.
“Did you give him my number?”
The distrust stung.
“I swore that I wouldn’t. Kid, I haven’t even given it to Lewis.”
He heard Sadie sigh.
“Just checking,” she grumbled.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” A lie.
“Kid-“
“Max, I’m 21.”
“Don’t care. You keep lying to me and I’m gonna keep calling you kid.”
Kelly walked into the kitchen, still in her pyjamas despite the late morning. She immediately knew who he was talking to. She raised an eyebrow at him and poured herself a cup of coffee.
Max flicked the phone onto speaker.
“I’m fine, dumbass.”
“You’re not.” But he wouldn’t push, he’d learnt not to.
“I will be.” It was always the same answer, again and again.
“Alright well, check in with me like usual okay?”
Sadie muttered a confirmation but Max knew that she was debating a disappearing act.
“Sadie,” -he hoped using her name would connect with her heart, rather than her fear- “just the check in. You know you don’t have to do more.”
“I know that I don’t have to do anything,” she quipped. It wasn’t a snap, she’d never snapped at Max. “But okay, I’ll text you in December.”
“Thank you.”
“Have a good day, Max.”
Max rolled his eyes. Of course she had already worked out the timezones.
“Have a good night, kid.”
To be fair, he had too.
The call disconnected and Kelly placed her hand on Max’s. It was a silent reassurance that Max appreciated.
“Penelope will finish her TV time soon,” Kelly said as she kissed his cheek.
He snaked a hand around his girlfriend’s waist and drew her close.
“We should go out for lunch,” she added.
“Thank you,” Max said into her lips.
It was a grateful sentiment that held far too many layers for his tired mind.
——$——
December landed while Max was battling it out in Qatar. Oscar had taken Saturday's sprint, again, and fought hard during Sunday's race. The Dutchman had defended through the final four laps, fending off both Australians in cars that shouldn’t have been outperforming the Ferrari’s or Mercedes’.
But Oscar had pulled an impressive P2 for a second year in a row, and Daniel had been all smiles as he'd pulled his AlphaTauri into P3.
But as Max hauled himself out of his hotel bed on Monday morning, thoroughly hungover, he found a text from Sadie.
She'd set her own contact name in his phone.
Ego Crusher: All safe and okay here. I know that Qatar was this weekend, saw that you won. Congrats on another win. Congrats to Oscar for beating your slow ass in the sprint. He's good at keeping you on your toes.
Ego Crusher: I didn't tell you until now because I wanted you to focus on Qatar, but the trial started last Wednesday. Should finish Monday my time. I'll let you know what the result is. This is the last four.
Max hissed out a breath, both at his aching skull and her news. He checked his time in Qatar, 9:30am, and did the mental maths for Melbourne time. Sadie would just starting work, 5:30pm, if she had shifts during the trial.
The Crushed: Thanks for letting me know you're okay. I hope the trial is going well.
The Crushed: I know you said you don't want to leave Australia but if any of those dicks are acquitted I'm sending someone to get you.
He left his phone on the kitchen counter, poured himself a glass of water and contemplated his capacity for the energy of Daniel Ricciardo that day.
Max's phone chimed. He cursed at the sound's affect on his headache and flipped it over.
*new message from Ego Crusher*
So Sadie wasn't at work.
Ego Crusher: Yeah, yeah. You said that already. Tell Kelly I say hi and give P a hug for me when you next see her.
The Crushed: Will do.
The Crushed: Update me.
Ego Crusher: Will do :)
Max flicked his phone onto silent, texted an update to Kelly and went to put it back on the countertop. Before he let it go, it vibrated again.
*new message from Oscar Piastri*
He cursed in Dutch.
Oscar Piastri: I know you're in contact with Sadie. She told Lando and I about the trial back in Melbourne. We haven't heard from her and we're worried.
He swore again.
Max Verstappen: She'd kill me if she knew I told you.
Oscar Piastri: You just confirmed it but okay
Max Verstappen: If I said nothing Lando would try to find her again and then we'd all be worried.
Oscar Piastri: You're not wrong
Max Verstappen: She updated me overnight. Trial is still going but so far so good.
Max Verstappen: How long have you known?
Oscar Piastri: Figured it out after you hung up on Lando in Melbourne. You spoke about her like you knew her.
Oscar Piastri: And thank you.
Max finally set the phone down, sighed and cursed, again. His life had never been simple but he didn't know if it had ever been as complicated as it was since Sadie had appeared.
He had siblings. He had Victoria. He had quite a few of them amongst his father's numerous marriages. And he was familiar with the protectiveness that came with being an older brother, and essentially a step-dad.
But he wasn't quite sure how to protect someone who didn't want his protection. Or wasn't actually his sister.
----$----
I did promise some Sadie and Max. I didn't promise it was going to be sunshine and joy though.
@snubug @cmleitora @izzy-marvel @aquangxl
a few came up with “no blog found” so i hope they worked
#f1#f1 fic#formula 1#formula one#f1 imagine#lando norris#f1 x oc#f1 fanfic#get your shit together#max verstappen#oscar piastri
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