#and the fia should take responsibility

[lucyrose191]

hey i had an idea and i love your seb x reader writing so i wanted to send this to you! driver! reader has a really big accident during a race like shes in a coma for some time seb becomes this completely closed off person but he visits you everyday so one day he comes to the hospital ig and readers heart stopped or something but then she comes back to life and wakes up or she dies idk if they have kids but would be nice if they’re married. idk i leave it up to you just give me some angst pls 🙏🙏🙏

COME BACK TO ME| S.VETTEL

Pairing; Sebastian Vettel x Wife!driver!reader

Summary; Sebastian’s world is turned upside down when he finds out the reason behind the red flag, the aftermath is just as torturous as the moment he got the news.

Warnings; Serious crash (a bit like Jules Bianchi’s), angst, coma, severe injuries, Sebastian’s sad :( Also Kimi and Seb bickering like children.

F1 Master List

It was no secret that Formula One was a dangerous sport, the fans knew it, the FIA knew it and the drivers knew it; but there are decisions that need to be made in order to protect the drivers because their safety should be the number one concern.

So when the FIA decided that that the weather in Suzuka wasn’t severe enough to postpone or cancel the race, pretty much every driver was against getting back on the track, there had already been a crash and to continue was just plain stupid.

Y/N knew that everyone, including the drivers, had their eyes on her. She had won the last few seasons and was the one to beat.

She never had a problem driving in the rain, in fact most of the time it added to the thrill of the race but when you could hardly even see the steering wheel you were holding, it wasn’t fun, it was scary.

She didn’t really know what had happened, she was battling Max Verstappen who had been recently promoted to RedBull; she’s been enjoying the challenge the younger driver is offering her but there were times that she didn’t agree with his decisions, they could be extremely risky and not in a good way, in a way that could cause some serious damage to either him or someone else and it seemed that this time was one of those times that his risks had consequences.

She had been ahead of him when she felt the contact that had been made to the back of her car, it wasn’t light at all, it sent her spinning completely off the track and with the slippery track and the rain continuing to pour she could not stop the car no matter how hard she tried to gain control.

She heard the gasps of the crowd as her car flipped and spun but it faded away as she tried to keep herself from moving about too much in her car; wondering how long it would take for her to stop.

Y/N did stop, eventually, but the moment she felt the contact she knew something was wrong. It felt like she had hit a brick wall, she heard the crumpling of the car’s structure before a pain like no other filled her entire body; her head throbbed and her eyes fluttered closed, her body shrouded by the remains of her car and the heavy rain.

"Red flag, Sebastian, you’re heading into the pits," Riccardo spoke over the radio.

"Fuck sake! I told you guys we shouldn’t have been sent back out here, what happened?" To say he was angry was an understatement, for the FIA to risk the lives of every driver on this track was ridiculous and quite frankly plain stupid.

"What happened, who was it?" He asked again when he wasn’t given an answer, pulling into the pits behind the two Redbulls.

"There’s been a crash, no response," Riccardo vaguely replied.

Sebastian sighed in frustration at the lack of information and detached his steering wheel, pulling himself out of the car, he didn’t even have time to pull his helmet off before Max was walking up to him and grabbing his arms.

"Seb I’m so sorry, I lost my grip and I couldn’t control it and we just collided-"

Sebastian shook his head, cutting Max off. "What are you talking about, what happened?"

Max simply stared at Seb for a moment, guilt filling his entire body as he realised Sebastian had absolutely no idea. "Seb, it’s Y/N…."

It was as thought the world had stopped turning, Max’s voice had faded away along with the sound of the crowds and everything else around him, the only thing he heard were his racing thoughts as he remembered Riccardo’s words.

No response

No response

No response

He looked up at the big screen that was showing the wreckage live, his heart dropped, the car was completely crushed and she was still in it.

He saw as a few of the Marshalls looked towards the ground briefly before looking into the direction of the camera as they all started making the same gesture, not even a minute later the screen was shut off so that no one could see what was happening.

Sebastian didn’t register his feet moving or the drop of Max’s hand from his shoulder but the next moment he was storming into the Mercedes garage demanding for some sort of information.

If it was any other driver entering their garage without permission they would’ve been immediately kicked out but knowing that Sebastian was here for no other reason that to know if his wife was okay they didn’t mention the red race suit that stood out against everyone else’s black and white uniform.

Seeing that Sebastian was simply stood there, seemingly not knowing what to do, Toto walked over to him and directed him away from his team so that they could talk.

"There was no response over the radio so we can assume that she’s unconscious, she went into that barrier at an incredible speed and the from the damage we can see there’s no way she isn’t injured in some way so she’s going to be airlifted to the nearest hospital, okay?" He spoke in a low voice so that no one could hear besides the two of them.

Sebastian made no indication that he had registered Toto’s words but he did swallow thickly before simply walking away and making his way into his own garage; he didn’t speak to anyone, instead heading straight to his drivers room.

He has taken the quickest shower of his life and changed into regular clothes, he had no intention of getting back into that car this weekend and if anyone expected him to then they were delusional.

As soon as he walked through the doors of the hospital he was approached by an older looking nurse that seemed to have been waiting for him and he could tell by the look on her face that he wasn’t going to hear anything good.

She gestured him to follow her; she lead him into an empty hospital room and gestured for him to sit down on one of the two chairs that were underneath the window, she took the other.

"Mr Vettel, I’m going to be straight with you because I wouldn’t want anyone to beat around the bush if I was in your position. The speed and force at which your wife crashed into barrier quite frankly should have killed her so bear that in mind when I go over her injuries with you because they might sound bad but for what happened I’d say she got out lucky."

Her words cut through Sebastian like a knife, tearing into his skin to leave him vulnerable to whatever she has to say next. Though, he’s grateful she’s telling him how it is instead of sugar coating the severity of everything just so that he’s not uncomfortable, he wants to understand and be aware of what exactly has happened so he gulped and nodded for her to continue.

She didn’t look at him sympathetically which he was thankful for but her expression was comforting. "The impact shattered Mrs Vettel’s tibia and fibula in her right leg, three of her ribs were also broken and a few of them are bruised, during the crash something must have made contact with your wife’s head because when we were cutting the helmet off the back of it was already broken through and it’s caused her some severe trauma to her head."

It was as though Sebastian felt the pain with each injury that was listed, the nurse was explaining it precise and slow so that he could probably understand it but there was really only one thing he wanted to know. "Is my wife going to be okay?"

This time the nurse did look at him sympathetically as she saw the pure worry in his eyes, she could see the love he felt for the Mercedes driver and the pain that this was causing him.

"Your wife is in surgery right now to fix both bones in her leg and suture up the injury on her scalp, her ribs should heal by themselves in at least six weeks but will most likely be longer, the thing we’re most worried about however is when she’s going to wake up. Whilst the knock on her head hasn’t caused any internal bleeding, we do think that’s the reason she was unconscious and not the crash itself."

Sebastian’s blood went cold at her words, "So-what, she’s in a coma?"

The woman nodded in confirmation. "Yes, it’s hard to determine when a person in a coma is going to wake up because each person is different when they’re in a position like this and I’m aware of how difficult this is for you to hear but whilst she’s in this state, it’s really the best time for her injuries to heal and hopefully she’ll wake after the worst of the pain has passed."

"How long do you think she’ll be in the coma for?"

"It varies from person to person but I’d say anywhere between a few weeks to a few months."

Sebastian nodded his head, glancing down to his lap where he was fiddling with his wedding ring. "Thank you." He simply muttered to the nurse who took that as her cue to leave.

"Mrs Vettel will be brought here after her surgery is complete, you’re welcome to wait until then or if you wish to go and come back after they’re finished we can give you a call if-"

"I’ll wait," Sebastian interrupted her and she nodded before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.

Sebastian sighed heavily into the silence of the room, placing his head in his hands; now that he was alone the strong front he had put up had disappeared, before he could stop it his eyes were watering and silent tears were falling into his hands.

He didn���t know how long he sat like that before he heard the doors to the room open and a bed was wheeled in by four or five doctors, once the bed was locked in the middle of the room all of them left but one.

The man was probably in his forties but he seemed kind enough as he regarded Sebastian. "You must be Mr Vettel?"

Sebastian hastily wiped his eyes before rubbing his hands on his legs, nodding his head.

The doctor smiled before speaking. "The surgery went well, both bones in your wife’s leg have been reconstructed but those pins will have to stay there for a month or two and afterwards she’ll need physical therapy to regain her strength back and the cut to her head has been sutured up with no issues. A nurse will come by tonight to check her vitals and ensure everything is okay, they usually do checkups every 6-8 hours but if you need something then feel free to press the button."

"I will, thank you." Sebastian smiled weakly.

"As you are her husband you can come and go as you like, you are more than welcome to have someone come and take your place when you want to go and shower or rest. If anyone wishes to come and visit then visiting hours are between 8am and 8pm, after that we only permit one person to stay."

The doctor left shortly after and after taking a deep breath Sebastian got up from his seat beneath the window and made his way to the bed.

The sight of her made him want to burst into tears all over again, she had cuts and bruises all over her face and arms, her right left was resting on a pillow but trapped inside a metal brace that was attached to the pins inside her leg, her head was bandaged to protect the stitches on from the pillow she was laying on.

She looked lifeless and the sight of it pretty much tore him in two.

He didn’t know what to do, he was here alone and the love of his life almost died.

He carefully leaned against the edge of the bed, making sure he didn’t budge anything he shouldn’t before carefully grabbing her left hand, it was bare of any rings and Sebastian hoped that they were in her driver’s room somewhere and not lost because she was so protective over them rings and would be pissed if they were lost.

He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it.

It was way too silent in here, he hated it.

He leaned his body forward and pressed his face into the pillow, being mindful that he wasn’t hurting her even if she was unconscious and most likely wouldn’t feel it.

"Please come back to me, Liebling. I need you so much."

Sebastian didn’t leave the hospital that night, he had dragged the chair across the room so he could spend the night beside his wife, he hardly slept instead choosing to sit and simply watch as she ‘slept’ hoping that if he stayed awake long enough then eventually she would wake up.

She didn’t.

He had countless messages from family and drivers but he didn’t answer them, he knew not answering her family was selfish but he found that he really only cared about Y/N and no one else, that and he wasn’t ready to talk about it.

He messaged her and his parents this morning explaining what the doctors had told him yesterday but had left the other messages unread.

Not once had he let go of her hand, not when the nurses came in every couple of hours to do their checkups or when they brought him something to drink or eat, most of which went untouched.

He couldn’t explain the heartache he was feeling, to have the person you love the most in the world be in such a vulnerable position was heart wrenching, especially when it was your job and vow to protect them.

He couldn’t have stopped that crash but he will make sure he is around for every step of her recovery process.

Sebastian was thankful that there wasn’t a race this week because there was no way he was leaving her in the hospital alone to get in the car, he wasn’t in the right mindset anyways.

It seemed silly that he was also thankful that there was only four races left and Y/N had already won the championship otherwise he would’ve been devastated for her.

A knock at the door tore him away from his thoughts and he assumed that it was a nurse but was proved wrong when Max walked through the door with flowers in his hand.

Sebastian pursed his lips and looked down, he couldn’t even look at the man knowing that he was the reason his wife was unconscious in the hospital.

He knew it was wrong to blame him because he had no grip and the weather was no help but he was aware of the way the younger lad drove and knew that he took unnecessary risks, risks that could’ve killed the woman he loved.

"Uhm," Max cleared his throat awkwardly. "I messaged to see if it was okay for me to come but I didn’t get an answer and I just needed to see if she was okay."

Sebastian bit his tongue which was hard when everything inside him wanted to turn and shout at the RedBull driver that this was all his fault and he had no right to come here when he was the reason she was here in the first place, and his wife didn’t even like fucking roses so be can shove them up his arse for all Sebastian cared.

"Is she okay?"

Sebastian scoffed at the question, looking up at Max as if questioning his sanity. "Does she look okay?"

Max looked at him guiltily before glancing away, not being able to stand the look of complete despair in the German’s eyes.

"Just leave," Sebastian shook his head. "My wife’s pretty much on her death bed right now because of you and I really don’t need you coming here pretending like you care when we both know that that the only thing you care about when you’re in that car is yourself, not anyone else and certainly not their lives."

Max bit back the retort that’s on the end of his tongue knowing that the man was not in the right place right now so he placed the flowers on the table by the door and took his leave.

Sebastian sighed and tipped his head back to try and stop himself from crying, he needed to stop crying, he hadn’t done anything else in the last 24 hours.

It had been a week and Sebastian had talked to no one, none of the drivers had tried to visit so he assumed that Max had warned them to stay away which he was glad.

He had left the hospital only twice to pack some clothes and essentials for the two of them, Y/N still hadn’t woken up but the bruising on her face and arms was going down and the doctors had said her ribs were healing nicely.

He had never realised how much he had depended on her and needed her until he didn’t have her to depend on.

He loved her so much and felt like he was going insane with her right next to him but not exactly there at the same time.

Shortly after Max had left that day, two nurses had came in with Y/N’s race suit, fireproofs, balaclava, gloves, boots, two halves of her race helmet and her rings.

Sebastian had wasted no time in placing her rings back onto her hand, he didn’t think she looked right without them and knew that if she woke up without them on her hand she wouldn’t be impressed.

He had almost cried again when he picked up both pieces of her helmet and saw the place where she had been stricken on the head, there was a gash that went right through the helmet and a large red stain on her balaclava that would be beneath where the hole on her helmet is.

He had told his and Y/N’s parents that there was no point in flying in to visit until she was awake and they agreed, he also assumed that the teams had all flown back to their headquarters or the next race location so he was here alone.

Quite frankly, Sebastian didn’t know what to do, there was a race in America this week and even though it was the last thing on his mind and the last thing he wanted to do he knew that he had an obligation to be there, he couldn’t just not show up and it seemed like Britta had the same idea as he saw her name pop up on his phone trying to call him, it wasn’t the first time but it seemed like she was unrelenting this time.

"What do you want?" He sighed as he pressed the phone against his ear, running a hand over his face.

"Oh, so you are alive!" Her surprised voice was way too loud in his ear.

"Just tell me what you want, Britta." Sebastian had no time or patience for her teasing or jokes.

"You need to be in America in three days, Sebastian, I understand that you don’t want to see anyone and the last thing you want to do is get in a car but you do have an obligation to be there." She told him sadly.

"I have an obligation to take care of my family, Britta, I couldn’t give a shit about racing."

"You can’t stay in Japan, Seb."

"What do you want me to do, leave her here in a different country by herself?"

"I think you should move her to a facility in Switzerland for starters so that you can at least be near home."

Sebastian stayed silent, he couldn’t argue with that logic, it probably would be better, even for Y/N so that she wouldn’t have to fly when she was awake and recovering.

"I’ll talk to you tomorrow," he told her before hanging up, not allowing her to say anything else.

The next day he had payed to have Y/N transferred to the closest hospital to where they lived in Switzerland and had flown out her parents so that they could stay with her whilst he was in America.

He had put his foot down on missing media day, he’d go Friday, Saturday and leave immediately after the race on Sunday and would call his in laws multiple times a day whilst he was gone, he was not happy about it but it was the best he could do.

They were currently waiting outside of the room whilst Sebastian said his goodbyes to Y/N, he had spoken to her everyday just on the off chance that she could hear everything that was going on around her, the last thing he wanted was for her to have to suffer in silence whilst she was in this position.

He pressed his forehead against hers, which was now bandage free, closing his eyes to relish in the contact that he wouldn’t have for the next couple of days.

"I love you so much, liebe and I’m going to be back as soon as I can. You better not wake up whilst I’m gone otherwise I’m going to be pissed off with you," he chuckled weakly knowing that is something she’d probably do.

He pressed a kiss to her head and one to the back of her hand before reluctantly getting up, grabbing his back and leaving the room, knowing that if he didn’t go now then he never would.

Sebastian knew he was pushing his limits but couldn’t find it in himself to care, it was Friday and he had arrived in America this morning but hadn’t shown up at the track until just ten minutes before FP1 started.

He had been on the phone with his mother in law as soon as he got off the plane and hadn’t hung up until a few hours later but the real reason he had left it so long to head to the track was so that he could avoid most of the cameras as he was walking in, knowing that they’d now mostly be focused on the team garages.

Speaking of teams, Y/N’s seat had been filled in by Esteban Ocon for the rest of the season, the smallest part of Sebastian felt guilty knowing that Toto Wolff had been trying to find out what was going on with his driver but Seb had made sure everything was kept under wraps.

The only people who knew how she was were family, Britta and Y/N’s PR manager, Freya and every single one of them had no intention of spilling any information.

He could feel the eyes on him and hear the muttering as he walked through the paddock, he hadn’t even been here five minutes and he was already getting annoyed by the cameras and how loud it was.

It pissed him off even more when he saw team members from other motorhomes coming out to watch as if he was going to stand there and make a grand statement to let them all know how Y/N was.

He just ignored them and walked into the Ferrari motor home to his drivers room so he could change into his race gear.

He made sure he had his helmet on before he left his room, making a clear statement that he was in no mood to talk to anyone, thankfully the team respected it and let him get straight into the car, just in time for FP1 to start.

It felt wrong, he and Y/N had a small ritual they did before they got into the car, they had done it for years and this would be the first time getting into the car without it.

"Okay, Sebastian, you’re free to leave the garage, just give Mattia a heads up when you’re ready. You’re on mediums for now," Riccardo spoke through his ear piece.

Sebastian didn’t answer but he did nod his head towards a mechanic to let him know he was ready.

He was top of the time sheet for both practises today, he wouldn’t say he had tried to be in that position, he had just channelled his frustration into his driving.

"Sebastian, top of the time sheet today, does that mean the car was feeling well for you?" The woman in front of him asked, holding out her microphone for him.

"It felt fine," he responded, he wasn’t even looking at her, he was too busy thinking about phoning Y/N’s parents when he got out of here.

"You’re back after a week off, did you end up doing anything interesting?" He was aware that the woman was trying to subtly pry information from him about Y/N and it pissed him off so he just scoffed and walked away, knowing Britta was going to have to do a bit of damage control.

"Hey! Seb! Seb!" He heard Lewis call after him but continued walking causing the English driver to have to run to catch up to him, clasping a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder to get him to stop walking.

"Hey, are you alright, mate?"

Sebastian rolled his eyes "I’d be find if everyone stopped asking me that stupid question."

"Alright," Lewis nodded, not one to get offended or hurt at the tone Sebastian used because he understood. "How’s my teammate?"

Seb raised a hand to his forehead in frustration at the question, he could feel himself losing it. "What do you want me to say, Lewis? She’s clearly not fine other wise you would’ve heard something so will you and everyone else just leave me the fuck alone."

He didn’t wait for a reply, instead walking away, hopefully to make that phone call he’s been wanting to make since the last one had ended but just as he was about to shut the door to his driver’s room, a hand caught it.

"For fuck sake, can I not get a moment alone around here!?"

"Don’t start your attitude with me," Kimi grunted and Sebastian sighed, now was not the time for him to deal with Kimi.

"What do you want?"

"I want what everyone else wants."

"Well I hate to break it to you but just because you’re my teammate doesn’t mean I’m telling you how she is."

Kimi rolled his eyes and made himself comfortable on Sebastian’s bed whilst the latter was looking around for his phone.

"That’s not what I was talking about, I’m talking about the mood you’re in, you need to get out of it and get a grip, that’s what Y/N would want, not you walking around and sulking ruining everyone else’s day."

Sebastian shot him a dirty look. "You don’t know what she’d want and neither do I right now because she’s in the hospital, and if anyone has a problem with my attitude I’m perfectly fine with them staying away from me."

Kimi sent him a sarcastic smile, matching his attitude. "Well I have a problem with it cause you took my personality."

"What?"

Kimi sighed and stretched out. "You know how exhausting it is to have to be the happy one out of the two of us, that’s supposed to be your job but since Y/N’s crash, I have to be that person and I’m sick of it."

"Well I’m sorry that my wife’s injuries are such an inconvenience to you," Sebastian rolled his eyes.

Kimi groaned in annoyance, "you are so fucking annoying without her."

"Thanks, I’ll tell Minttu you said that." Sebastian replied sarcastically, now having his phone in his hand.

"Go for it," Kimi shrugged. "When Y/N wakes up I’ll tell her how much of an arsehole you’ve been."

Seb ignored him and pressed his phone to his hear, waiting for his mother in law to pick up for an update.

He had finished P4 in the race that weekend and had gotten straight on a flight back to Switzerland, skipping his post race interviews in the media tent.

He hadn’t even called Y/N’s parents after the race for an update, instead settling for a simple text in the airport when he was boarding the plane; both of them were picking him up from the airport and taking him straight to the hospital, he was strangely looking forward to being able to see her again, even if she was still in a coma.

He was happy that his flight had quite literally flown by and was sitting in the car behind his in laws just twenty minutes after landing.

"How is she?" He immediately asked.

"She’s okay, the doctors have said she’s healing up nicely." Y/N’s dad told him, the news relaxing him a bit.

"Are you guys coming in?" He asked as he held the car door open, surprised when he saw them both shaking their heads.

"We’ll come by tomorrow, you should have some time alone with her."

Sebastian nodded and bid them goodbye, actually happy that they had chosen to do that because after not seeing her for a couple of days, some time alone was what he needed.

He practically ran through the hallways of the hospital, care workers saw him but chose not to reprimand him as they were aware of who he was and how eager he probably was to see his wife.

He exhaled heavily when he got to the closed door of her room, standing there for a few moments to calm down a bit.

When he pushed open the door, he got the shock of his life.

Y/N was lying there in her hospital bed with her leg still resting on a pillow as it had been for the last two weeks but this time, the top of her bed was raised to put her in a sitting position, she had oxygen tubes in her nose but her head was turned towards the door he had just walked through and she was looking at him!

She was clearly very sleepy and tired but her eyes were as open as far as she could hold them and she was looking at him with a sleepy smile on her face.

She blinked slowly at him for a moment as he stared before holding out her hand for him and he took that as his cue to move towards her.

"Hi baby," she mumbled through a smile, not really having the energy to say anything more but it was enough for Sebastian’s eyes to start watering as he collapsed onto the chair that was beside her bed, grasping her hand in his own.

He raised his other to her cheek and softly stroked the skin there, smiling through his tears as he felt her lean into his touch.

"Hi," he breathed in disbelief, "How long have you been awake?" He whispered, fearing if he spoke any louder it would hurt her.

"Before the race, I watched it," she told him as though she was proud of herself was waking up in time to see it.

"Yeah? What did you think?" He humoured her, not really wanting to talk about the race but it seemed to make her happy so he did.

"You did good," she told him, subtly rubbing her thumb across his hand.

Sebastian simply smiled at her, he wiped his face on his arm to get rid of his tears before looking back at her again with nothing but adoration in his eyes.

"I love you so much." He told her surely, as though she may have forgotten whilst she was in the coma.

"Ich liebe dich auch," she replied back softly making him laugh, she always said it in his native language because she thought it would feel more real for him to hear.

"Are you tired?" He asked when he noticed her fighting to keep her eyes open.

Y/N nodded slowly before looking at him. "Come and lay with me," she told him.

Sebastian shook his head softly even though he wanted nothing more than to cuddle with her. "That’s probably not a good idea, liebe."

"When has that ever stopped you?" She pouted but rose an eyebrow at him.

He couldn’t argue with her there so he got up from his seat, protesting when she tried to move and make room for him.

He climbed in next to her and lightly wrapped his arm around her, she scooted closer and carefully adjusted her top hand so that her head was resting against him.

Sebastian rested his head against hers, pressing a kiss into her hair. "Liebe?" He asked, earning a slight hum in return.

"Don’t listen to anything Kimi says, he’s a liar."

"Hm’kay, Seb." She muttered, already pretty much asleep.

"I missed you so much," he muttered against her, carefully tightening the arm he had wrapped around her,

He wouldn’t be letting her out of his sight again.

[astonmartinii]

cat mom | charles leclerc instagram au

pairing: charles leclerc x reader 

charles and y/n accidentally become cat parents and take it about as seriously as you would expect 

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charles_leclerc i can’t believe i’m a dad 

yourusername you better believe it, i want only the best for my baby 

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sebastianvettel welcome to the team charles 

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charles_leclerc i wanted to take diesel on the podium @fia do something pls 

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f1 taking a closer look at the ferrari set up and found the cutest boy in all of the paddock, pleasure hosting you diesel. 

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charles_leclerc my bestest boy 

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sebastianvettel jokes on both of you, they asked me the night they adopted him 

yourusername sorry boys, but no one was beating seb 

a/n: a lil different than my other ones but i had so much fun!! let me know if you want similar ones!! also requests are open lol. 

[formulawolff]

vii. the in-between - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 5.2k

warnings: buckle up y’all cause we go. angst, cursing, size kink, edging, praise kink, FUCKING, LOTS OF FUCKING. toto being a simp, banter, yearning, mentions of divorce, mentions of alcohol use, creampie, teasing, yadayadayada… y’all know what’s about to go down

prev. | next.

“it’s fine, mom. really.” 

bringing a hand to your temple, you begin to massage, attempting to alleviate the accumulated pressure. 

“i mean, yeah, i’m not in trouble or anything. as far as i know, the fia is letting me race in suzuka. it was my first offense so they dropped the investigation. as long as i publicly apologize for my actions, everything will be cleared up.” 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

do you know how many people have asked me about you? baby, people approach me at the goddamn grocery store asking me why you beat up that poor little british boy! he’s built like a twig for god’s sake! 

rolling your eyes, you lean back in your chair, keeping the phone pressed against your ear, “mom, his name is george russell. he drives for mercedes. he’s not some little boy.” 

all right, all right. well maybe he needs to come over for some dinner or something. get some meat on those bones. anyway, did i tell you that your father has been scouring ebay trying to purchase sports cards with your car on it? well, he’s found ones with you on them too. he wants to make a booklet of his favorite kiddo. 

with that discovery, your heart swells, “is he really? tell him to look up topps chrome cards. those are the best ones. since i’m not as popular as max or lewis, they should be pretty cheap. and mom, i’m your only kiddo.” 

that’s why we’re so proud of you. even if you get into fist fights, we still love you bunches. when do you think you’ll come home? your dad wants to take you out in his baby. he’s made some modifications to it. he thinks you’ll appreciate it more than i will. 

“where is dad? is he asleep?” 

yes honey. he’s asleep. snoring away on the couch with the dogs. i wish we could give you a taste of home somehow. maybe i could have a care package sent to japan? 

“mom,” you exhale, “that would be so much money. don’t worry about it. were you guys considering flying out for miami?” 

oh yes, about that! you perk up in your chair, anticipating your mom’s response. we are going to be there. we can’t wait to see you. we miss you so much. it’s so quiet when you’re not home. will i be able to meet some of your coworkers? 

letting you a giggle, you shake your head, “mom. they’re my fellow drivers. we’re not coworkers. but yeah, i could probably introduce you to a few of them. daniel wants to meet you two.” 

what about that handsome fellow with the bright blue eyes? he drives for redbull! and yes, i would love to meet daniel. 

“max verstappen?” you arch a brow, “we’d have to see about that one. he’s a very busy man.” 

okay, okay. the line cuts out briefly. hey honey, i think i need to head to bed. i love you so much. keep in touch, okay? we’ll see you in a few short weeks. 

nibbling on your lower lip, you nod, “i love you too, mom. tell dad i love him. i miss you guys. i can’t wait to see you.” 

me either. goodnight honey, or good morning or afternoon or whatever time it is over there. i’ll text you when i wake up! love you. 

“love you,” your lip trembles, hands clamming up as you the line goes silent. 

fuck, were you homesick. 

you just had to make it a few more weeks. then, you could finally reunite with your parents in miami. although you knew you would be so fucking busy, you would make time. 

you always did when it came to your parents. 

also, you had another plan brewing as you scroll through your contact list, searching for a certain dutch assassin. a certain dutch man who happened to be a three-time world champion. 

somehow, someway, your mom was going to meet max verstappen. 

you had to make that happen. 

you had to. 

currently, you were sitting on the edge of a bed in a suite in london, anxiously awaiting the arrival of your driver. a decently-sized suitcase sat near the door, a carry-on stacked on top. 

this driver was provided specific instructions to transport you from london to brackley, dropping you off at the door of a certain team principal’s home. 

yet, you were well aware that it wasn’t going to be just any old home. 

this man was billionaire, after all. 

buzzing in your grasp, your phone notifies you of a new text. 

from none other than toto wolff. 

the driver is on the elevator, heading up towards your suite. DO NOT handle your bags. he will do that for you. i don’t want you to fuss over a single thing. from there, he will bring you here, where he will punch in the code for the gate. i will be waiting for you at the door. 

i can’t wait to see you, schatzi. i miss your beautiful face and sweet laughter. 

oh, and i can’t wait to kiss you. 

(and yes, i am pacing around in my office as i type this. i can’t focus on anything else but your arrival) 

with sazuka quickly approaching next week, you would only have a couple of days with the team principal before you had to part ways. he would have prep, meetings, press, where he would then fly out to sazuka. meanwhile, you would have to catch a flight, meet with your team, prep, and potentially meet with press, fans, and the other drivers. 

additionally, you had to address the incident that occurred last week at the australian grand prix. to your surprise, the fia had dismissed the investigation, finding no substantial evidence that the two of you needed to be punished. due to the nature of the accident, george was not punished, as he did no illegal maneuvers or intentionally attempted to take you out of the race. 

on the other hand, the fia was adamant that if this happened again, you were going to face consequences. you would have to shell out a pretty penny for fines, and then you would be immediately disqualified from three future races, deeming you unable to participate.

although they were merciful, the fia made it very clear that since it was your first offense, they were going to be fair.. 

however, if there was a next time, they would not be so kind. 

a crisp knock rang out, startling you. 

springing to your feet, you open the door, an older man smiling in greeting. 

“you must be golden girl,” sticking out his right hand, he dips his head, “i’m theodore. i’ll be your driver to brackley this evening. i am here to not only be your escort, but to tend to anything you may need. mr. wolff made it very clear that you were not to fret over a single thing.”

“good morning,” the corners of your lips curl into a quaint smile as you shake his hand, “thank you. i’m eager to see the english countryside.”

“i’ll handle your bags ma’am,” theodore clears his throat, “you just take it easy.”

“will do,” you nod, “how long is the drive?”

“about an hour and a half,” theodore responds curtly, slinging your carry-on around his shoulder, “don’t worry, it’s not too boring. follow me this way, my lady. our chariot awaits!”

following him down the hall, he presses the button for the elevator. there’s a silence between you, but not an uncomfortable one. theodore’s presence was warm, inviting even.

upon meeting him, you understood why he was toto’s right-hand driver. once he escorted you to the car, he opens the door for you, ushering you inside. when you settle into the backseat, you notice the glint of a redbull can, along with your favorite snacks and candy. 

“mr. wolff wanted to ensure you wouldn’t be hungry,” theodore states as he climbs into the driver’s seat, pressing the button for the ignition, “he told me that you can be a little cranky if you don’t have any snacks.”

“oh? he said that?” a giggle bubbles up in your throat, “did he say anything else about me?”

“oh yes,” theodore chuckles, turning the gear shift, “he’s told me all about you. to be quite frank, he hasn’t shut up about you the last week or so.”

“so you know who i am?”

“of course i do,” theodore nods, flashing you a grin in the rearview mirror, “you’re one of the best formula one drivers on the grid. you drive for williams racing. you’ve only won one grand prix, but i believe you’ll win a few more this season. your hometown is in yuma, arizona. you’re twenty-two years old, and from what toto has shared with me, you have a very bright future ahead.”

“are you a formula one fan?” you arch a brow, punching open the can of redbull. 

“who isn’t?” he shrugs, “well, ms. golden girl, we are going to begin our journey. if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to speak up. if you’d like, you can tell me a little bit more about yourself. we will have plenty of time.”

as theodore promised, the drive to brackley was painless. yet, as the car pulls up to the gate, your heart skips a beat.

this was no quaint english cottage.

toto’s brackley residence was a sleek and sprawling two-story home, a black and white exterior with massive, thick windows. your jaw almost drops, and theodore notices, letting out a hearty laugh, “don’t act so shocked, golden girl. i’m sure you’re aware toto is a very wealthy man.”

“i thought he would have kept things somewhat simple.”

“oh love,” theodore shakes his head, “you and i both know that toto is anything but simple.”

rolling down the window, theodore punches in a code, the gate sliding open. as the car lurches up the drive, your heart thumps in your rib-cage, blood roaring in your ears. 

this was really happening. 

you were really staying with toto. 

“nervous?” theodore senses the shift in energy, “you have no reason to be nervous. he’s been anticipating your arrival. he’ll be happy to see you.”

“thank you,” you manage to muster a meek smile, “i-i just didn’t think we would get this far.”

“well savor the time together. time flies, especially in our world. one day you’re at a track, the next you’re in another country. he adores you, golden girl. so don’t you fret about that. just relax, and enjoy your time. i will be here in a couple of days to bring you to the airport for your departure to sazuka.” 

“thank you,” at his words, you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief, “i look forward to our next drive together!”

“as do i,” shifting the gears, theodore puts the car in park, slipping out of the driver’s seat, “we have arrived. let me get your bags.”

he strolls over to your door, opening it as you clamber out, stretching your sore legs.

no matter how much time you spent in a car, there was always that persisting stiffness. 

you’d probably need a double-knee replacement by the time you were forty, but that was the least of your worries. 

out of the corner of your eye, you notice a figure strolling towards the car. with the large stature, you knew it could only be one particular individual. 

he’s dressed in a royal blue button-up, paired with khaki slacks. on his feet are earth-toned dress shoes. the blue hue of the button-up complements his dark hair, almost brightening his features, giving them a youthful glow. tufts of his hair are all over as the wind blows. 

yet, he looks as gorgeous as ever, his toned muscles rippling under the thin fabric of the button-up. 

“welcome to brackley schatzi,” the grin enveloping his face is radiant, “i hope the drive wasn’t too bad.”

“not at all,” you shake your head, the team principal nearly sucking the wind out of your lungs as he wraps his arms around you, squishing you against his chest. 

“i missed you so much,” tender lips connect with your cheek, “good afternoon, theo! did she behave herself?”

“of course,” theodore promptly places your bag next to the entrance, suitcase in tow, “i have another commitment here soon, mr. wolff. i hope it is all right i placed her bags next to the door?” 

“don’t worry about it,” toto’s fingers find yours, intertwining them together, “i’ll get them. please drive safe, theo.”

“i will, mr. wolff,” theodore dips his head, turning to you, he takes your hand, shaking it, “it was lovely to meet you. i look forward to our next meeting, golden girl. enjoy your time together, you two!”

“we will,” toto squeezes your hand, “goodbye, theo.”

“goodbye, mr. wolff!” theodore spins on his heel, making his way to the car, “behave, you two!”

in response, toto gives a thumbs up, theodore slipping back into the driver’s seat. as he peels off, toto shifts his body, facing you.

“charming, isn’t he?”

“he’s great! kept me entertained the whole drive!”

“i told him you have a short attention span so to keep you occupied,” toto shooks you a wink, earning an eye roll. 

“i can’t stand you.”

“you’re standing right now, aren’t you?” his chuckle is light, “come, let’s head on in. i have lunch waiting for us.”

“you made me lunch?” 

“yes, i’m going to drive you all the way out here just so starve you,” he scoffs, yet his tone says otherwise, “i have food ready. and wine, if you want some.”

“don’t tell me you want to get me drunk so i’ll confess all my secrets.”

“consider that my new goal for the afternoon,” toto grabs your bag, along with your suitcase. pushing open the door, he clears his throat, “welcome to my home away from home.”

as you step in the entrance, your eyes widen, lips parting.  

the space was truly a reflection of toto. refined and elegant, with a hints of charm. the marble floors gleam under the soft lighting, rays of sun shining through the vast windows. the walls were covered in a menagerie of decor, from pieces of art to mercedes memorabilia. it was not the typical billionaire’s home, where the air felt sterile and cold. 

this place was warm and full of life, coaxing you to stay. 

“cat got your tongue?” his breath fans against your ear, a hand gliding along your back, “follow me, schatzi.”

“your home is beautiful.”

glancing over his shoulder, you are met with his gorgeous smile, dimples and all, “thank you, love. i’m glad you like it.”

trailing behind the austrian, you stroll down a long hallway, turning into the last room on the left. toto places your bag and suitcase next to a glass door, “this is my bedroom. you’ll be staying here with me.”

“straight to the bedroom huh?” you fold your arms across your chest, teasing, “you just couldn’t wait–”

“come here,” toto growls, hands grasping your wrists, bringing you in, “no, i can’t wait.”

looking up, you match his gaze, cocking your head, “what are you going to do about it?”

at your rebuttal, toto’s eyes narrow, “what do you think i’m going to do?”

“fuck me.”

“hmmmm,” he hums, leaning in, “you’re right, schatzi. i am going to fuck you. i’m going to fuck you till you’re weeping me for me to stop.”

“weeping?” your hands roam, tugging on his button-up, “i’d like to see you try.”

“oh schatzi,” he tsks, “you don’t know what you’re in for.”

“show me then.”

“i will,” lips ghost over yours, “i’ll show you how badly i missed you baby.”

as he kisses you, it’s tender at first, brimmed with the sweetness of reunion. one of his hands wraps around the base of your neck, tilting your head back as his tongue gains access to your mouth, the tang of redbull tracing your mouth. yet, as you whimper, a fiery hunger sets ablaze.

fuck, he missed you. 

he missed you more than he liked to admit.

tension hangs thick, clouding the space as his mouth places sloppy, wet kisses down your jawline, finding your neck. nipping gently, it takes every fiber in his being to resist the urge to just mark you all over. to leave marks where they could see. to make them wonder who was doing this to you.

but he couldn’t. not there. 

in response, your hips buck forward, grinding against his. toto groans, his head rolling back. 

there was not a single coherent thought in his mind. 

only lust. and fuck, was it consuming him whole. 

scooping you into his arms, he brings you over to the bed, your back meeting with the plush mattress. 

“i can’t wait,” he pants, chest heaving, “i can’t wait any longer. i need you.”

“then take me,” your words drip like honey, oh so sweet, “make me yours, toto.”

jesus fucking christ.

he was going to fuck the shit out of you. right here, right now.

there was no going back. 

he ached for it. he yearned for it. the fantasy flooded his dreams at night.

the things he wanted to do to you? 

downright filthy. sinful, even 

he couldn’t lose his inhibitions. not yet. he had to hang on. 

however, at this point, toto was hanging on by a thread. 

peeling your leggings and panties off, he tosses them to the floor, “sit up.”

you obey, nearly trembling with anticipation as fingertips hook the hem of your crewneck, pulling it over your head. nimbly, he hovers over you, finding the clasps of your bra. he undoes them, a crimson hue dusting his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you completely naked beneath him. 

god, you were absolutely breathtaking. 

every inch of you was stunning. every scar. every mole. every freckle. every stretch mark. 

you were so fucking beautiful. 

his hands fly to his button-up, eager for what was to come. 

yet, your hands find his, “let me.”

toto bites his tongue as you carefully undo the buttons of his shirt, his cock twitching, aching for your touch as your fingers delve towards his belt. you unbuckle it, tilting your head back, batting your thick lashes.

fuck. fuck. fuck. 

could this moment last forever? 

“toto.”

“yes?”

“i-i don’t know if i can take it all,” there’s apprehension inflected in your tone, almost as if you were embarrassed, “to be honest, i’ve never–”

oh god. 

this was going to ruin him.

just like he was going to ruin you.

“don’t worry,” a tender hand cups your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing your cheekbone, “i’ll go slow. i won’t make you take it all. i’ll take care of you baby, i promise.”

you nod, lips pursed as you tug on his slacks, hooking the hem of his boxers, “you’re just so fucking big. like holy shit.”

pride swells within the austrian for a moment, a chuckle rumbling in his chest, “i promise you that it’s not as big as you think.”

“can i see for myself?” the question is so innocent, so pure. 

yeah, he was going to ruin you.

he was going to make a mess out of you. 

“lay down schatzi,” he orders, authority oozing into the words. 

kicking off his slacks, he curses slightly as his boxers stick around one of his ankles. this wasn’t going to be perfect, but he wanted it to be. for you. 

he wanted this to be a moment you remembered for the rest of your life. he wanted this memory to fill your thoughts every second of every day. he wanted you to touch yourself to this, desperate and oh so wet, throbbing for him. yearning for his mouth. for his touch. for him.

carefully, he climbs onto the bed, hovering over you. as you look down, you can feel his gaze searing into you, burning right through. 

his cock was far bigger than your fantasies. it was thick, approximately eight or nine inches. you couldn’t tell. his tip was tinged pink, the glisten of precum catching in the light. veins wrapped around the length, throbbing as your hand wrapped around its base.

“fuck,” as he moans, you lick your lips, realizing how much you loved the sound that just filled your ears, “let me feel you, please.”

“please toto.”

swallowing thickly, he inhales sharply as he positions his tip at your entrance. applying pressure, a whimper rings out as he pushes in, your walls stretching. 

your pussy was heaven. absolutely perfect as it wrapped around his cock, begging for more as he pushed further and further. you were absolutely drenched, the juices slick and oh so sickeningly sweet. he didn’t even have to taste you to know. he just knew you were sweet. like pure ambrosia. 

perhaps he could get a taste.

“toto,” your lashes flutter, his name so perfect from your lips, “you feel–”

“your pussy is perfect,” he finds a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of your tight hole, “absolutely perfect baby. fuck, you’re perfect.”

skin connects with skin, the temperature of the room elevated as his hands found yours, pinning them to the bed. lips collide, the kisses desperate, hungry and bursting with need. as he picks up the pace, moans fill his mouth. 

fuck, it felt like he was going to split you into two. 

“t-toto,” there it was again, his name. music to his ears.

“yes baby?” a sheen of sweat clings to his forehead, tufts of hair dampened, “what is it? does it hurt? do you need me to slow down?”

“no. fuck me. just fuck me.”

oh god. 

oh, fuck. 

his cock twitches, the pleasure building in your abdomen as the tip brushes your g-spot, back arching, begging to be closer. closer to him.

could you be any closer to him in this moment? was it even possible?

before you know it, his arms wrap around your frame, picking you up off the mattress. he holds you close to his chest, one hand holding your head, cupping the back of your skull. the other remains on your lower back, gripping you tightly as the new angle sends bliss rippling all throughout your body.

he fucks you, and god there was no holding back. his cock was pounding into you now, showing no mercy. your ass slaps against his thighs, filthy noises flooding the space. 

as you bounce, you tense, your walls practically squeezing him, “toto, oh my god, i’m going–”

“good girl,” his coos, “be a good girl, baby. cum for me.”

as you get closer and closer, toto watches. fuck, the way your lips were parted ever so slightly. the way hairs clung to your forehead. the way your lashes fluttered. all he could see was pleasure. pure, intense pleasure. 

you unravel, coming undone. 

that sight alone was enough to make him cum.

“come here,” toto hisses through gritted teeth, “come here baby.”

the moment his lips mold with yours, you feel his cock throb, pumping threads of cum into your weeping hole. your muscles spasm, shuddering as he pulls out. 

the two of you study one another for a moment, catching your breath. fingertips brush stray hairs from your temple. 

“i’m sorry.”

“for?” you nuzzle into his collarbone, relishing the way his cologne lingered, mixing with his natural scent. 

“going too far.”

“that was not too far.”

tenderly, the austrian pulls you down with him, letting out a sigh as his head hits the pillow. your head remains against his chest, admiring the definition and tone for a moment. he peppers kisses along your forehead, browbone, and cheeks. 

“if i ever go too far, let me know.”

“i think we’re both in too deep,” you murmur, “you’re lucky you had the blinds drawn.” 

“that would be something,” his chest vibrates as he speaks, “could you imagine? some random mercedes intern witnessing the team principal fucking the most beautiful woman on the planet?”

however, a gleam catches your eye.

on his left ring finger, your heart sinks as you notice the ring. 

his wedding band.

toto senses your silence, the way you tensed up against him, “what is it schatzi?”

“why are you still wearing your wedding band?”

oh, so you had noticed.

“it’s complicated.”

“complicated?” your voice falters as you prop yourself up with your elbow so you could meet his gaze, “you’re wearing your fucking wedding ring. it’s not that complicated.”

“yes, i am, wearing my ring,” he exhales, “would you prefer me to take it off? it has no meaning anymore. susie and i are divorced. we finalized it last december. when we signed the papers, we made a mutual agreement to wear our wedding bands when we were in the public eye. it keeps the speculations at bay. it’s mostly for the sake of my children. and for her sake. we respect one another and i would hate for her hard work to be diminished by rumors and gossip.”

although his words were sincere, your heart races still, anxiety a swirling torrent in your stomach, “how long have you been separated?”

“almost three years. we separated in july of 2021.” 

“oh,” you suck in a breath, shame washing over you, “i-i’m sorry for the sudden questions. i just–”

“it would complicate your feelings for me. and no one wants too mess around with a married man. i get it baby, i really do.”

although he provided a very base-level explanation of his failed marriage, toto was more than willing to go into more depth. that is, if you wanted. more than anything, he wanted you to know. that aspect was becoming increasingly frustrating, as the team principal tried to maintain that dominant, bold, persona.

you were making him weak. his little soft spot. 

well, not so little these days. 

“i cannot stand how well you read me,” rolling your eyes, you turn your back to him.

“don’t turn your back on me now,” he tsks, “do you believe me, schatzi?”

“i don’t think you could ever lie to me.”

“i couldn’t,” toto leans over, placing soft kisses all over your shoulders, “i think it would destroy me. the guilt would be too much to bear.”

“if we’re spilling secrets now,” you roll over, face-to-face once again, “i have another question for you.”

“all right.”

“why did you approach james about my contract behind my back?” 

for once, the team principal is caught by surprise, his heart skipping a beat. 

the hurt plastered across your features is clear, your brows furrowed, eyes narrowed. there’s a glimmer of anguish in their depths, slightly glossy from the threat of tears. 

“i wanted to gauge how he felt if you were to leave williams,” that was the truth, really, no other intentions behind it, “he was not too keen to discuss it, but i just wanted to know how upset he would be if you were to sign with another team. i did it for you, to soften the blow.”

“soften the blow?”

“yes,” toto nods, “to soften the blow when you tell him you’re leaving williams and signing with mercedes.”

“you don’t know that for–”

“but i do,” his voice hardens, “i do know. we can’t just lay here and deny that in your heart, you want to be with me at mercedes. you’ve made the decision already. you just haven’t figured out how you’re going to approach james, alex, or your team.”

biting your tongue, you turn your head, averting his gaze.

toto was right. you had made your decision. 

it was just a matter of time before you had to face the facts. 

“i’m right, aren’t i?” 

“you are,” you huff, squeezing your eyes shut, “i-i just don’t know how to tell everyone. i don’t know how to tell my parents. i don’t know how to bring it up to james. it’s just so.. fuck. it’s so fucking overwhelming to think about.”

“then let me help you.”

“how?” you inquire, “how would you possibly do that?”

“i’ll keep my distance from here on out, but i will help you draft up a letter that you can give to james. or, i can help you practice what you’re going to say. just let me help you schatzi,” fingers grasp your chin, turning your head. 

“you hear me? i’ll help you.”

“can we just worry about it later?” 

“of course,” strong arms envelop your frame, drawing you in against his body, “for now, we can snuggle. would you like that?”

“i would.”

your tough exterior completely crumbles as his mouth hovers by your ear, murmuring words in german. desperately, you ache to know what he said. was it something important? or just sweet nothings? 

sometimes he was a difficult man to decipher.

“hey, have you opened that gift yet? the one i brought to you in jeddah?”

“no,” you admit, heat billowing into your cheeks, “i have a hard time accepting gifts.”

“clearly.”

before you can respond, he’s up from the bed, strolling over to your bags. unzipping your carry-on, he searches for that parcel. fishing it out of your bag, he sets in on the bed, sliding on his boxers before plopping it in front of you.

“open it. right now.”

“right now?” you echo, “toto, i–”

“open it.”

“fine,” nimbly, your fingers untie the bow, peeling away the wrapper. 

underneath the paper, there is a tiny velvet box. it’s long and slender, rectangular in shape.

“what is this?”

“open it and you’ll know,” toto urges, following your every move, anticipating your reaction.

opening the box, your heart swells at the sight before you.

it’s a bracelet, a dainty figaro chain, complete with a charm. the charm is an outline of the saudi arabian track. picking it up, you inspect it, noticing a date engraved on the backside of the charm. 

“how were you able to get this so quickly after the race?” 

“i have my ways,” toto bears a sheepish grin, “do you like it?”

“like it? i love it.”

well, you didn’t love it. you fucking adored it. it was perfect, and so you. it was something that you could wear everyday, a constant reminder of the years of effort to get you here. not to mention it was gorgeous, the chain shiny, freshly polished. 

a hand reaches out, plucking the chain from the box. his brows are knit together with concentration as he slips the chain around your wrist, ensuring it’s safely clasped.

“i figured it would be something you could always wear. a reminder of when you made history.”

“it’s beautiful,” sitting up, you shift your weight to your knees as you wrap your arms around his neck, “thank you, toto.”

“always, schatzi. don’t worry, i will always spoil you.”

as toto nuzzles into the crook of your neck, he was well aware of one thing.

you had made your decision. 

you hadn’t outright said it, but he knew you made your decision. 

you would be signing to mercedes for the 2025 season. 

you were finally going to be by his side every day. 

there was no more in-between. no more will she or won’t she. no more nights of him lying awake, wondering where you stood. no more driving himself insane pondering all of the possibilities that could unravel. 

he had you. 

you were all his now. 

and god, did that leave such a sweet taste in his mouth. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @joalslibrary @martwll @prettiest-at-the-party @pucksandpower @kravitzwhore @toldyouitwasamelodrama @annewithaneofthegreengable @persona1lies @zoeyjadetice2010 @whoisss @sinners-98-world

if i missed anyone, please let me know! also, you are more than welcome to be added to the taglist! thank you for reading! <3

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Already Gone {8} || MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x spy!fem!reader Summary: After a record smashing 2023 season it seems to be about to repeat as 2024 begins. Warnings: 18+ only, violence, reader injury WC: 2.3k One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight

The season had ended on a high with Max rightfully where he belonged. You had accompanied him to the FIA awards and cheered proudly as he accepted the winners trophy before jetting off to the Swiss Alps for a much needed break. Unfortunately work was never far away and all too soon it was time to make your grand entrance at the annual end of year Board of Directors meeting at the Scuderia Ferrari Headquarters.

The memory of the shocked faces when you walked into the meeting room and took the last chair around the table never ceased to make you smile. The brooch pinned to your Chanel suit jacket had recorded the moment of silence before chaos erupted while you reclined back in the chair to watch the men scramble for an answer.

Now it was time for the new season to begin.

Melbourne, Australia

It should have been a safe place. You had walked the perimeter three times just to check for any signs someone would be trying to get into the event. You hadn’t found any. Leaving the security team to their job, you returned to Max and accepted the cocktail he had ordered.

Australia was always a lively place for Red Bull as they gathered a range of their athletes across a dozen extreme sports and created some promo videos for the year. This year was no different with a party to kick off the week long trip down under and it was more than just the Red Bull family in attendance.

“What’s wrong, liefje?”

You shook away the lingering feeling that something was amiss and draped your arms around Max. “Nothing, baby, I’m just a little on edge.”

“I thought things were going well with the Board?”

You scanned the room for the current Ferrari drivers, and the future one, spotting them all in separate areas and deep in conversation. “They are, I haven’t been able to find anything planned yet but it doesn’t mean they won’t try something.”

“Relax,” he soothed as he kissed his way across your collar and up to your lips. “You can have the night off worrying. I want my girlfriend not my bodyguard.”

“Maybe if you stop winning all the time I will be able to relax,” you teased. “You’re just too damn fast, baby.”

Max’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he dipped his head to your ear. “I went slow last night, didn’t I? I think I got in trouble for that too the way you begged me to go faster.”

The witty retort you had to torture him with was lost as two men stumbled over their feet and knocked into Max. Unsure of their intentions you shoved them back and stepped in front of him protectively but all they could sum up were a few drunken expletives at your lack of hospitality. It was only going to get worse when you signalled for security to escort them off of the premises.

“It’s fine, liefje, I’m safe, we’re safe,” Max soothed as he rubbed your tense shoulders. “Have another drink with me.”

You turned to the bar and reached over the counter for two shot glasses and a bottle of vodka. “I don’t know how many more 1-2 finishes I can survive,” you admitted as you tapped his glass and downed your shot. You could feel the desperation growing with each Ferrari board meeting but it was the meetings that were happening in the shadows that concerned you more. The only reprieve was that Mercedes had started the season off poorly so it was one less team for them to worry about competing with. “I think we should hire more personal security for you and maybe Checo too now.”

“Do you know what I think? I think you worry too much.” Max laughed at the roll of your eyes in response.

“One of us has to be the responsible one.”

Max took your shot glass and the bottle of vodka, placing them on the bar top before taking your hand and giving it a small tug.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m being the responsible one and taking you back to the hotel,” he said with a grin. “A bottle of wine in the jacuzzi with you is much safer.”

There were plenty of drivers parked outside the venue for when guests wanted to leave and the valet waved one forward. Plastic barriers kept fans back, photographers snapped shots for the newspapers and police lined the entrance for anyone that grew too bold. You scanned both sides of the tiled floor for anything out of place and shifted as you saw a flash catch the glint of metal.

When the gunshot rang out, your first thought was of Max. He had only been a few feet behind you, but with the crowd that had gathered in the hopes to get an autograph you had lost sight of him. Had he been hit? Had he ducked along with everyone else? You dared a glance over your shoulder and found he had been quickly covered by the policemen while the man you had spotted tried to make his escape. 

Max’s leather jacket billowed at your sides as you sprinted after the shooter and you heard his voice over the screams of panic, he was calling you back, but there was no way you were letting the man get away. You made it two blocks before he dove into the back seat of a black sedan and fired off a few wild shots as it shot away from the curb.

Grabbing your phone from your pocket you dialled Max’s head of security and it picked up on the first ring. “1NF 2DU, Toyota Caldina,” you panted as you leaned against a building and watched the car disappear around the corner. “Male, early 30’s, brown hair, and fucking short. 9mm Beretta Nano.”

“Got it,” Harry noted before the phone was jostled. “Schatje, where are you? Are you alright?”

You looked down at the tear in his jacket and pulled it aside to see blood soaking your blouse beneath. You closed your eyes as the burning spread to your lungs and your panting grew more laboured. “I’m fine, baby, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, they won’t let me leave,” he growled the last part at Harry who was holding him back from chasing after you.

“Good…that’s good…you’re good,” you sighed in relief and slid down the brick wall. “I love you, Max.”

You heard what could only be described as a roar of pain before the line died and you were left looking at the background image on your phone. You had never been happier than that moment of waking up in Max’s arms on a lazy Sunday before the season began, your head on his bare chest and Achilles curled up on your feet with Jimmy and Sassy. The daily stresses of life hadn’t begun to claw itself to the forefront of your mind and nothing existed outside of those four walls.

 As a teenager you lived life a day at a time, not caring if it was the last one because you had never had something to look forward to. Now, the longer you stared at that photo, determination grew stronger than the pain in your chest and you cut your palms on the brick as you pulled yourself to your feet. 

“Liefje! Y/N!” Max’s voice carried above the sound of sirens and you tried to call back to him but only a hacking cough sawed through your lungs and your vision dimmed. “Where’s the fucking ambulance?”

Your steps faltered as you followed his voice and when your legs collapsed beneath you his strong arms were there to catch you.

Max thought about just going to the car but there was a young boy holding out a cap and he couldn’t leave the little guy disappointed. He looked up to tell you he would just be a moment when he saw you shift suddenly, then the gunshot rang out. Everything moved so quickly as bodies surrounded him and the crowds screamed in the chaos, and he lost sight of you making chase down the street. 

“Max, stay down, we’ll get you out of here,” Harry stated calmly as he pulled Max away from the policemen. 

“I’m not going anywhere without Y/N.”

“These are her orders, shh,” Harry growled as he saw your contact calling and answered in an instant, listening intently. “Got it.”

Max snatched the phone from Harry before he could hang up. “Schatje, where are you? Are you alright?”

The pause was long enough for him to hear his heartbeat in his ears and when you finally answered your voice didn’t sound quite right, “I’m fine, baby, are you okay?”

Max looked at Harry who was using his muscle mass to build a wall between him and the street you had run down. “I’m fine, they won’t let me leave.”

“Good…that’s good…you’re good.” Your voice was growing quieter as he grew more agitated. “I love you, Max.”

Max looked at the floor where he had last seen you and noticed the darkened spot of blood stains that led away from him. Strength he had never known flooded through him and not even Harry’s arms that were as thick as Max’s thighs could hold him back. His trousers threatened to rip from the long strides and the quick pace of Max’s sprint and he screamed for you, praying for an answer as he followed the blood drops down the street.

Max knew there were people following him as he ran to the silhouette he innately knew was you. “Where’s the fucking ambulance?”

“On its way.”

The street lights illuminated the pain etched in your face when you tried to walk to him but your legs collapsed. “I’ve got you, liefje, I’ve got you,” Max promised as he felt his hands grow slick with the blood leaking out of your side. “I’m not letting you go.”

Max could count on his hand the number of times he had felt true fear. He remembered the way his mother cried when she had him down to tell him she was leaving and how she wished she could take him too. He could remember the sound Achilles made when the neighbours dog escaped their property and chased him. He would always remember the look in your eyes before they closed.

For three days Max sat at your side, only moving from the room when you were wheeled away for scans and tests. Christian stopped by each night for an update that hadn’t changed and flowers arrived from the Board but Max dumped them straight in the bin, but other than that the room was empty and quiet. 

Max knew he wasn’t liked by a lot of people but he never really believed that his life had become a target. You loved that he was still naive to the dark side of the sport and you happily became the shield that protected him from the innocence that had long been stolen from yourself. It was why you put yourself into the trajectory of the bullet meant for him. 

Max could still see the footage that Harry had found from the lobby cameras. He had nearly thrown the laptop across the room where he waited for you to come out of surgery. That minute shift, the smallest of movements, had saved him - but at what cost?

“I found a little house,” Max said quietly as he held your hand. “It has an orchard and plenty of space for our babies, and no city around for miles. It needs some things fixed up before we could live there, but it sounds like a good place to retire.” He closed his eyes and lay back in the uncomfortable chair, your hand still resting in his so he could feel for any sign of life.

“I didn’t die just for you to retire now,” you rasped, your throat dry and voice hoarse.

Max was on his feet in an instant, capturing your face delicately as he kissed you with a sound that was some cross between a sigh of relief and a joyous laugh. “You didn’t die, liefje, I couldn’t have survived that.”

“I’m pretty sure I met the devil,” you groaned as you tried to sit up, “he spoke Italian.”

“That’s just Benedetto,” Max said with a flat laugh, placing a hand on your shoulder to stop you moving while the other pressed the call button. “You need to keep still.”

You weren’t impressed by the intrusion of the doctors and nurses who came flooding in and after answering dozens of pointless questions, because yes you were in pain after being shot, they finally left again. 

“They’re just doing their job,” Max murmured as he found space on the bed to sidle in with you. He carefully shifted you so that he could lay his arm out before tucking you in to rest your head on his shoulder. “Let them prod and poke you until they are satisfied you are completely healthy again.”

“I just want to go home-hey! Why aren’t you at the track?”

“Did you seriously think I would leave you?” Max shook his head at the idea and kissed your forehead. “You risked your life to save mine, I know exactly where I want to be.”

The stitched in your side stretched as you craned your head back so he could reach your lips. You had thought there would never be another kiss so you were going to savour the feeling that came with it. “I love you, Max.”

“Ik hou van jou.”

[mionemymind]

Can you plsss do an imagine with Wanda (or whoever u feel is right) where reader is a formula 1 driver? It'd be so cool. But you don't hv to ofc. I'm a new follower and i absolutely adore ur works <3

Getaway Driver (Rewritten)

Summary: Based off my incorrect quote, Y/n is the getaway driver for Wanda's mission.

Warnings: Shooting, Cursing, Slight Blood, Fluff

A/n: Before y'all comment, I really suck ass at action sequences lmaoo. Please try to imagine something better. But this is for the folks that love F1 and Wanda (@thatdudeusimpfor @canyonyodeler @pikachooo3 @rayisaknight) also gif credits go to Redbull

I had rewritten this the very next day because I was so unhappy with how I did the action scene. Hopefully this is better :)

Word Count: 4.3k

Masterlist

“Lights out and away we go!” The rumble of engines passed by as cars zoomed past the start. The roaring cheers coming from the fans grew louder with each second. 

Starting in pole position, Y/n gets away unscathed from the mess in the back as well as her current teammate, Max Verstappen. They stay side by side through the chicane, protecting the front positions as many drivers behind them try to slip past. 

In between turns two through five, multiple close calls occur as the the Stake F1 team showcase breaking issues this early on in the race. Y/n hardly got out of the chicane without hearing mishaps from the back. 

“Fucking cunt,” George Russel stated to his race engineer, Marcus Dudley. The fans screamed and laughed as the message was played out loud for the whole broadcast to hear. 

To mediate the tensions, a commentator stated, “For this British Grand Prix, we have a total of 52 laps with a forecast of dry conditions.” 

Coming from the paddock, Will Button announces his guesses for the race today, “It will honestly be a close call for first between the young driver of Redbull, Y/n, and her older teammate, Max. I know a Redbull 1 / 2 position will happen but my money is on Y/n as they’ve been on a winning streak for the past three races. As for third position, Lando Norris in the McClaren would be my final guess.”

Will moved closer to the McClaren garage as multiple shots show off the engineers, mechanics, and leaders. “They’ve recently redesigned their floor as well as the front wing. This big upgrade in the middle of the season might be the break that McClaren has been hoping for since the start of the season.” 

Coming up on their first lap, Y/n still leads the race. “51 more to go,” she thinks to herself. Although her head should be in the race, her heart couldn’t help but wish for this race to be already over. A certain red head was all she could think of. 

Two hours away from Silverstone, Wanda listens closely for enemies. She could sense two of them guarding the very door she needed to be in. “On my signal,” Steve mouthed. 

Just as Steve gave the go ahead, the sound of F1 commentary started to play in Wanda’s ear. “Lights out and away we go!” Wanda walked through the hallway, incapacitating the guards, allowing Natasha and Steve to drag them to an empty room. 

Natasha gave Wanda an ‘are you serious’ look as the commentary also played in her comms. “Why am I hearing about a race right now?” They all stood outside the entrance to the headquarters room. Around five guys and one guard were currently there from the looks of it. 

“Sorry, I had meant to only set it to my comms.” Wanda brought out the hologram and changed the settings before looking at Steve for the next set of instructions. 

“Since when did you care about racing?” Wanda shrugged in response as Steve signaled with his hands on which people to take care of. 

“I’ll tell you later.” 

“Are you fucking blind?” Y/n yelled to her race engineer. Lance Stroll had almost hit her side at turn seven, almost costing her the race had they actually made contact. “If he keeps racing like that, he’s bound to hurt somebody.”

“Copy that. We’re already in contact with the FIA about that.” Y/n’s grip on the steering wheel hardened. It was only lap 19 of 52 and her nerves were getting the best of her. She knew the race was going to be easy but her excitement to see Wanda again was causing her to lose focus. 

“I hope she’s watching me somehow,” Y/n thought. It was stupid to hope though as the driver knew Wanda was currently on a mission. It would be highly unlikely that she would watch her race, there were more important things than watching cars go round and round. 

Regardless though, winning this race was important to Y/n. This was the first race as an official couple. While the media hasn’t found out yet, she certainly didn’t want to give Wanda a bad impression. After all, if your girlfriend was continuously saving lives, the least she could do was win a race. 

“This ones for you Wanda.” 

“That should be the last of them.” Steve tied up the last enemy on base and sent the coordinates to backup for retrieval. “Let’s get to the rendezvous point. It’s around 30 minutes west from here on foot.” 

Wanda pulled out her secured phone as they walked out the secured building. She opened up the F1 app and immediately tuned in for the last couple minutes of the race. 

“We have a battle between the two Red Bulls, Max Verstappen and Y/n Y/l/n, for P1.” Steve gave a disapproving nod as they walked through London, trying their best to blend in with the crowd. Wanda could care less of Steve’s approval for her antics. The mission was nearly over and she wanted to at least support her girlfriend from far away. 

“Oh God! There’s a crash at Luffield! It’s a Mercedes!” Wanda watched in horror as the car flipped through the gravel multiple times before hitting the fence, landing in an awkward position. Had the gravel not been there, the car would have surely gone through the fence. A safety car was brought out, allowing people to pit. 

“I believe that was George Russel’s car that had just crashed.” Wanda flipped through the drivers until she found Y/n. Although she knew that wasn’t her car, seeing her safe and sound brought Wanda relief. 

“Jesus, is George okay?” Y/n asked. Wanda smiled at her girlfriend’s natural concern. Although it was one lap away from finishing, it was nice to know that the safety of others was the first thing that Y/n thought of. 

“Wanda.” Looking up, Natasha gave a silent command to put her phone away. “We have people tailing us. When I say go, run as fast as you can. Make sure to stay close.” 

Slyly looking back, Wanda could point out the people that looked out of place. “Fuck me.” 

“Thank you all for the wonderful race! The car was practically a bullet and everyone did so amazing today.” Y/n slid into first place and did a mini celebration on her car. 

As the camera crew came closer, she jumped in front of them and grabbed the camera. Taking off her helmet and balaclava, Y/n yelled, “This win is for my beautiful girlfriend! Can’t wait to see you babe!” 

Looking at the time on the screen, Y/n rushed past the cameras and went straight into the paddock. She ignored all the weird glances and congratulations she got on the way, the race win still fueling her adrenaline.

“Y/n? What are you doing?” Christian yelled but Y/n ignored it. It wasn’t like Red Bull had the balls to fire her for not celebrating.

Her assistant, Niya, had followed suit as Y/n took off her helmet into her dressing room. “Is my car ready Niya?” She nodded as she typed up a statement on her iPad. The team was going to be unhappy at the lack of answers but she knew they were ultimately happy with the points she scored for the team.

In no time, Y/n was out of her race suit and in an all black attire. She ran out of her room, yelling a thank you to Niya. Up on the screens, it showed Max at P2 while Lando was at P3 just like Will guessed. Several news outlets tried to catch up to Y/n, but she was not having it. 

“For the first time in F1 history, we don’t have the P1 spot filled. It seems our winner of the race had an emergency situation to attend to. Regardless, congratulations to Red Bull for the 1 / 2 positions.” 

Y/n smiled at Will’s comment as she passed the gates. This was going to be all over the news ‘Y/n runs off after P1 victory’. Yet Y/n could care less for all the speculations. She had to see her girl and nothing was stopping her. 

Hopping into her jet black Ferrari, Y/n sped out Silverstone. It was around an hour drive to the rendezvous point, but knowing the country like the back of her hand, she was guaranteed to make it on time.

“Does anyone know who the getaway driver is today? Fury stated that we’ll know the day of the mission, but I was never briefed about it,” Steve inquired as the team finally got away from the enemies. 

Wanda glanced up from her phone, “It’s my new girlfriend.” Not a lot of things shocked the assassin and the super soldier, but that comment did. 

“Is she qualified?” Natasha quipped. She found it strange that Wanda hadn’t mentioned her new partner. In addition, the lack of information on Wanda’s girlfriend was also alarming. What if she was the enemy? What if she was an assassin? So many questions ran through her head, but kept her anxiety at bay. 

“More than qualified,” Wanda stated with a proud smile, “She’s a driver at her day job. Plus Fury gave the approval for it just for this mission only.” 

Natasha and Steve digested Wanda’s words and continued to walk. However, Natasha wanted to know more, even if Fury did approve of it. “How did you two meet?” 

“Funny story, I was actually running away…” 

Wanda was surrounded. At every single avenue and exit was a marked enemy and with no back up, she only had herself to rely on. “Shit.” 

Wanda hurried herself out of the hotel, still noticing all the eyes around her. Thank goodness that it was still broad daylight. The enemies weren’t that careless to attract a crowd. 

As if sending a silent prayer, all attention diverted to the red ferrari that pulled up to the hotel. Before the valet could go up, Wanda rushed to and opened the passenger seat. She hopped in and closed the door.

Turning to the driver’s side, Wanda fully expected some old man to occupy the seat, but when her eyes met comforting brown eyes, a pretty smile, and furrowed eyebrows, she was hooked. The red head was distracted for a couple of seconds, before asking, “Do you know how to drive?”

Wanda knew she looked ridiculous. Any sane person would immediately kick her out, heck even call the police. Furthermore, the chances of a rich stranger even offering help was little to none, but when Wanda reached for Y/n’s emotions, she was even more surprised to see that this stranger didn’t feel any of that. 

“I do.” The accent almost made Wanda forget everything, but the sight of enemies getting closer made her focus. 

“Then drive.” 

“So you hijacked your girlfriend’s car, asked her to get you out of a sticky situation, and then survived?” Steve chuckled at Natasha’s question. The story felt like something out of an action movie, but then again, they were superheroes, so anything could happen. 

“I don’t know how, but she managed to get me out of Spain safely. I even asked her to drop me off at our pickup location. Her car wasn’t bulletproof, but she was so fast, they could hardly get a scratch on her.” Wanda smiled at the memory of their first encounter. 

“At the end, she didn’t even ask why I needed to run away. I think she recognized me from the news and just wanted to help. But before I left, she asked for a date.” How crazy does one need to be to ask the very person that put you in danger on a date? 

“I said yes because why not? I liked her and it was the least I could do after she spent a whole hour driving.” It was Natasha’s turn to laugh at how made up the whole story sounded. But when the assassin could not pick up on a single lie, it made her chuckle more. 

“Well I can’t wait to meet her,” Steve remarked. They were 10 minutes away from the pick up point. 

“And she better knows how to drive,” Natasha added. Wanda nodded quickly, the nerves finally making its way to her head. 

“I promise. She’s good.” 

“Where is she?” Natasha didn’t mean to sound aggressive, but they were still on a mission, something she ran a tight ship on. The crew were a minute early to the pick up point and Wanda had forgotten to ask Y/n to share her location. Right now, the witch paced back and forth with her phone in hand. 

The assassin didn’t want to add to Wanda’s already nervous state but they needed to leave. Before Wanda could send another message, a loud car screeched to a halt in front of them. Once the smoke settled, Wanda smiled at the sight of the getaway car. 

Opening the car door, Y/n got out, wearing a suit similar to her driver attire but in all black. “Am I late?” The wide cocky smile on Y/n’s face was hard to hide. The driver knew she was on time but didn’t dare to comment. 

Immediately noticing her girlfriend, Y/n closed the door and picked Wanda up by the thighs, spinning her around. The giggle that escaped Wanda’s lips almost made Natasha barf at how love sick the two were. 

As Y/n placed Wanda back down, she pulled her in by the waist and gave her a long kiss. The two almost forgot that they were in front of a crowd as Wanda ran her hands through Y/n’s hair. 

Natasha wanted to grumble at the unprofessionality but Steve’s look stopped her. Wanda was in love. This was something Steve had never seen before, and he was not going to dare to ruin it. This wasn’t to say that the assassin wasn’t happy for Wanda. She really was, but the mission was still the priority. 

Breaking the kiss, Y/n mumbled, “I’m not too late am I babe?” Wanda shook her head no as a large smile was plastered on her face. 

While holding Wanda’s hand, Y/n looked at Steve and Natasha, “Hi. I’m Y/n Y/l/n. It’s nice to meet you.” Letting go of Wanda’s hand, Y/n reached out to shake their hands. 

Steve was the first to shake Y/n’s hand and said, “Nice to meet you. My name is Steve.” 

Natasha bumped Steve out the way and shook Y/n’s hand, immediately liking the firm grip Y/n had. “I’m Natasha. It’s nice to meet you, but I think we should get out of here.” 

Stepping back to Wanda’s side, “You’re right, let’s get y’all out of here.” Y/n stepped around to open Wanda’s door, something both Steve and Natasha mentally noted.

Once everyone was buckled in, it was like a switch flipped inside Y/n’s brain as she zoomed from the meetup location. 

“Someone is following us.” The rest of the group turned around at Y/n’s comment and noticed the entourage that was heavy on their tail. Y/n had barely driven for 10 minutes before enemies found them.

“I thought we got rid of them,” Wanda grumbled. She wanted her first mission with her girlfriend to have gone a bit smoother, but nothing is ever how she planned. 

The red head looked over her girlfriend’s suit, hoping that Fury had given Y/n a bulletproof suit. Last thing Wanda needed was for Y/n to bleed out. 

Blocking her anxiety away, Wanda focused on the mission at hand. 

“Do you think you can lose them?” Steve asked, ready to fight. Remembering the map she carefully studied, in 10 miles was a mountain with lots of turns. Right before it was a small village. 

“Get rid of the bigger caravans and I’ll take care of the two smaller cars. Do it quickly. There’s a village up ahead.” Y/n steadied the car as Steve nodded in understandment. Slowing the car down, Steve predicted his route as Natasha did the same. 

Once the enemies were close enough, the two hopped out of the car, each on a different caravan. Immediately, Steve used his shield to pierce the front left tire, causing the caravan to veer right into the woods. 

Steve hopped to the next caravan before it crashed. By now, multiple shots were being aimed at Steve, Natasha, and the car. 

“Keep us close. I need to help them,” Wanda stated. Y/n nodded as she tried her best to slow down at a safer speed for Wanda. Crawling to the back of the car, Wanda used her magic to fling a couple of enemies out of the cars. 

This ultimately assisted Natasha as she finally pierced her caravan’s tire. Instantaneously, the car crashed off the road, straight into a large pile of rocks. The assassin hopped off the caravan, aiming for the getaway car. 

Noticing the large gap, Y/n whipped closer to Natasha. Landing harshly on her side, Natasha groaned as Wanda held on to her arm, making sure she doesn’t fall off. “Are you trying to hit me with the car?” 

“It was the car or the ground, you choose,” Y/n quipped back. Had they been in a different situation, Natasha would have laughed but considering that the enemies were still shooting, she simply hustled back into the car. 

“Can Steve jump far?” The last caravan was close enough to continuously hit their back bumper. And with all the debris coming from the crashes, the sides were damaged. 

Before Wanda could answer, Steve jumped on top of the car as the caravan stopped into a halt, crashing into everything along with one of the smaller cars. Only one car remained. 

While Steve crawled back into the car and Wanda back in her spot, the village came passing by just on time. The mountain was right before them. 

Pushing the car into different gears, Y/n kept her eye on the rearview mirror as the car drifted through tight turns. The enemy car screeched behind them as it struggled to keep up through the turns. However, the straights were its friend. 

Up ahead was another set of turns, something Y/n already memorized in the back of her head. “Natasha, keep trying to shoot at them. I need something to distract their driver.” 

Pushing the getaway car to its limits, the turns proved hard for Natasha to hold on to, thankfully, Steve was holding on to her. “Aim for the driver’s view. It may be bulletproof but anything is better than nothing.” 

Natasha did as told, managing to aim perfectly even with all the wind rushing past her and the aimless turns up the hill. 

“We have a quarter mile left! Keep going at it!” Natasha emptied clip after clip as Wanda tended to her slight wound. Bullets came back towards their car, none created a single scratch on the car. 

Rounding the last turn, Y/n drifted perfectly to stall the car in place for a couple more seconds, allowing the enemy to catch up even closer. Keeping a couple seconds between them, Y/n pushed the car into gear, sending it through the last straight. 

“Get back in!” Y/n hardly gave Natahsa time as she pulled the car into the hard right. Before they knew it, Y/n had been driving backwards. In the next second, a grapple launched from the car, landing right on the enemy’s bumper. 

”Hold on!” Everything turned to a blur with how fast Y/n was reacting. Steve almost got whiplash and motion sickness from all the drifting and wild turns. Within the same second, Y/n used the momentum from the car to fling the enemy off towards the cliff. 

As the enemy hit the guard rail, it started to tumble through the air, pressing another button, the grapple released. Pulling up the handbrake, Y/n straighten the car back out onto the road. Driving away with a satisfied smile, Y/n was happy to see an explosion from the mirror. 

With a hand on Wanda’s thigh, the rest was smooth sailing for Y/n as she drove them to safety. 

The car arrived, smoke trailed from it’s path as Y/n continuously pushed it past its limit. While Steve was thankful to have arrived earlier than expected, the nauseous feeling in his stomach held his compliments back. 

The pair from the back quickly got out of the car, throwing a thankful smile to Y/n as they headed inside, ready to debrief about the meeting. 

Once they were out of sight, Wanda was quick to giggle. Nothing was particularly funny, but the redhead couldn’t help but laugh. Not really understanding what Wanda was laughing about, Y/n merely chuckled a little at how adorable Wanda looked. 

“Do you think your boss will be pissed about the state of the car?” Y/n joked. The driver could probably afford whatever car Fury provided, nonetheless, she wanted a good first impression. 

“I think,” Wanda placed a hand on Y/n’s cheek, a smile still evident on her face, “you did amazing today. I knew you were a great driver but I didn’t expect you to handle all the gunshots like it was nothing.” 

Y/n kissed Wanda’s palm, leaning in closer to her touch. “I think with all the superhero stuff happening, I’ve become immune to things like that.” Y/n shrugged as the pair got closer, faces nearly touching. “Plus it helps that I know my girlfriend would do anything to protect me.” 

Leaning in for a kiss, Y/n nearly groaned at how soft Wanda’s lips were. While this wasn’t their first kiss, the feeling of Wanda’s lips was something Y/n was never going to get used to. All the races, fast speeds, and fame was nothing compared to the feeling of kissing Wanda. Just the privilege alone made Y/n light headed with love. 

As Wanda slowly continued to kiss Y/n, her stomach grew with tightness, her mind numbing with stupid thoughts such as ‘what if I climbed over the console and I made out with her?’. While there would be absolutely no complaints from Y/n, Wanda knew they still had an audience. 

But god, Wanda couldn’t think when it came to kissing Y/n and they were hardly even making out. What was going to happen once they actually did have a heated make out session? Was she going to pass out? 

Regardless, the two pushed their limits on how long they could go without air. Soon, Wanda broke the kiss but she craved to kiss Y/n again. Not wanting to push her luck, Wanda pressed a couple pecks on Y/n’s lips, sealing the deal with one more long kiss. 

Leaning back in her seat, Wanda covered her mouth, enjoying the feeling of how plumped it was. Ultimately, she couldn’t hide the smile on her face as Y/n looked at her with adoration. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you this whole day.” 

Y/n grinned as she leaned over the center console, “We can still kiss all you want babe. Name the time and place and I’ll be there in minutes.” 

Wanda laughed as Y/n puckered her lips, ready to kiss again. Giving in to her girlfriend’s antics, Wanda cupped Y/n’s face and kissed her once more. 

Before it could go any deeper, Wanda broke it, causing Y/n to pout. “You can’t just hold your lips hostage like that.” 

“Well dekta, we’re still on a mission.” Y/n rolled her eyes at Wanda’s response. It was not a good enough reason to stop kissing. 

“Well babe, what if I told you I won my race today?” Y/n licked her lips, hoping it was enough to entice Wanda to kiss her again. 

“You won?! I’m sorry I couldn’t come and I tried watching the end but-”

“-just kiss me babe.” Y/n pulled Wanda for another kiss, not even caring that Wanda was unable to make it to her race. There were still multiple races to come and multiple opportunities for her to watch. But kissing Wanda was enough for Y/n. Everything else was just a bonus. 

By now, Wanda couldn’t hold back her moan as the kisses got deeper. Too busy in their own world, the pair didn’t notice Natasha approaching the car. 

The assassin rolled her eyes at the scene. Regardless, she knocked on the window. The two jumped from the unexpected sound. Their dilated eyes focused back at Natasha as Y/n rolled the window down. 

“Meeting starts in a minute. Say your goodbyes.” Without a response, Natasha walked back into the base. 

“Am I going to see you soon?” Wanda asked, feeling like a teenager asking when she was going to see her girlfriend again. 

“You will. I’ll make sure of it.” The blush on Wanda’s face deepened. She kissed Y/n one last time before exiting the car, knowing that if she stayed any longer, she would have been unable to leave.

Walking backwards to the base, Wanda waved goodbye. In normal Y/n fashion, she made donuts at the front of the base, before leaving. 

Once the dust settled, Natahsa came back out. “She was good.” 

Wanda turned around, giving Natasha a small smile. “Thank you.” 

“It’s gonna be nice working with her again.” The smile on Wanda’s face grew wider at the approval. 

As the two walked to the meeting, all Wanda could think about was her getaway driver.

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[dizzyduck44]

Right I went out drinking so missed everything this afternoon however

Andrea Stella go and get your driver and sit him down. Explain that a win isn’t everything. He thinks it is but it isn’t the end of the world.

Lando has brought more podiums to that team than anyone in the last 10 years. He has brought those home through an awful car. His points haul is responsible for their constructors position the last three years. The two races he could and should have won, a call from the pit wall stopped it. (Sadly the person who made the call to hold station in Monza is no longer even with the team). He has out performed the cars so many days when the team have let him down. He has learnt to lead the team, which isn’t just finishing higher, but building the team up when it goes wrong. Sprint races sadly don’t even classify as race wins. You need the Grand Prix win to have that honour. (Yes they are a mess I know. You get points for the Championship but the pole and wins don’t count officially. Someone have it out with the FIA).

There is no lack of talent.

Now step up for your driver. Tomorrow is another race day push the negativity away from him. Make him see that you know he can. Because a lack of talent doesn’t look like P3, or podiums in the last three races he’s raced in. God knows you are going to need him tomorrow because on the days that Oscar cooks his tyres or isn’t as quick, you need Lando to believe he can do it.

Yes Lando would have loved his rookie season to have a competitive car like Lewis or Oscar. They all would.

Pick him up. For your own sake.

Someone get his Dad on a plane. NOW!

He is an integral cog in the wheel and if you allow the media to pile on him he’s going to break and possible leave, taking all that knowledge with him.

We have sadly been here before with Lando, they know this happens. They also know he comes back stronger, so there is that for Mercedes’ and Ferrari to look forward to.

[lestappenforever]

I'm confused about why a red flag would've been needed for George's crash. The timing of communicating a vsc, sc or red flag to drivers would be identical, so it's not like a red flag would get information to them any quicker. Under the vsc the race is neutralised, cars come to a slower delta and prepare for danger on the track - with Carlos on the last lap the only functional difference between a red flag and a vsc is that he went to the line instead of into the pits? George would've been in the same amount of danger under a red flag or a vsc.

A red flag should always be the response when an accident is as severe as George’s was, and the fact that he ended up in the middle of the fucking track - not on the edge, not in the gravel - not only made the accident itself pretty severe, but it also made the track unsafe for the rest of the grid. And that is, according to FIA's very own regulations that they do love to follow, grounds for red flagging a race.

And the thing is, if somebody had crashed into George, no matter how unlikely it was? There would have been a huge liability issue with the marshals choosing the VSC as opposed to the red flag when the crash warranted a red flag under FIA's own regulations. As a FIA licensed marshal myself (although obviously at a far lower level than the F1 marshals), you learn really fucking early not to take any risks because your first and foremost priority is driver safety.

There was nothing gained by anyone by having the drivers "complete" the race under a VSC; the positions were already secured. And by choosing the VSC instead of the red flag, despite it probably not having made much of a difference, they are indirectly saying "fuck you, we don't actually care about driver safety, all we care about is having a completed race".

To the drivers, the flags and deployment of a SC/VSC also let them know the severity of the cause of the reaction. George was lying there, in the middle of the track, with no visibility behind him and having no clue where the cars behind him were, terrified. He was begging for a red flag because its meaning and severity would have given him at least some sort of comfort, and being told they had deployed a virtual safety car instead? I can only imagine how that could have made him feel in that moment because that's the marshals indirectly telling him "Yeah, we know you're trapped in your car in the middle of the track with no way to see any cars behind you and you're clearly scared as hell, but tough".

The regulations exist for a reason, and the severity of George's crash and the placement of his car should have triggered a red flag.

[nordschleifes]

chapter four — algo me gusta de ti

➝ after a choice that ends fernando's chances of a better position for the race on sunday, charlie is confronted by the driver. however, the discussion ends in a way she didn't expect.

➝ word count: 5,1k

➝ warnings: fighting (it that a warning at this point?), racing description

➝ author's note: tagging @christianpulisic10, @alonsogirlie and @enaticosencantados as requested.

— Charlie, don't you think we should start our fast laps now?

— No, you can do one more warm-up lap — she replied, her eyes on the clock at the top of the screen. There were just under two minutes left in qualifying for the Miami Grand Prix, long enough for him to take another slow lap before another flying lap to chase after pole position and finish with just under 20 seconds to go. It was an ideal strategy, carefully developed by the strategy team, all to steal Checo's provisional pole position.

One more lap. A few more seconds.

She watched closely as Fernando followed at a slower speed, giving space for Charles Leclerc’s Ferrari to pass him at turn 9 on his flier. Then, as she took her eyes off of the GPS map to look at the broadcast, she felt her heart skip a beat.

The Ferrari was sliding out of control towards the turn 16 barrier, the crash causing those in the pit wall to let out a collective groan.

— Attention, yellow flag, yellow flag at turn six — she said, before sighing as she saw the color change from yellow to red — Red flag, slow down.

Without a response from Fernando, Charlie had to confirm with what the data coming from the car said as he drastically reduced his speed. She knew it was a gamble to release him so late from the pits to do his last laps of Q3. She sighed, knowing that she should have anticipated something happening with the slippery track and Leclerc’s crash during FP2 the day before.

— Nice and slow, keep the delta positive — she said, while staring at Fernando’s name on the timing screen — The session will not be restarted. So, it's a P8 for us today.

— Yeah, we're going to have to stick with that — he muttered. He sounded less than pleased.

Given his latest results, he had every reason to be dissatisfied.

After the fifth place in Bahrain, they left for Saudi Arabia with some optimism. After the debrief, the team found, in all of the data they’d gathered over the weekend, that the car had fulfilled all expectations, and in the right conditions, there was even more performance to be had.

Jeddah was like a dream. In each free practice, Fernando was in the top three, with his lap times being tantalizingly close to the Red Bulls. In qualifying, problems with Verstappen's gearbox and a penalty for Leclerc ensured that Fernando would start from second place during the Grand Prix.

The race had its own frustrations, with Fernando getting a penalty for the car being out of position within its starting box, and another for incorrectly serving the penalty during a pit stop in the race. The team argued their case before the FIA and managed to get the pit stop infringement penalty overturned, meaning Fernando’s third place was restored. Charlie was leaving the paddock when Fernando started a video call with her to tell her the good news. Seeing him smiling and satisfied with the result made something warm fill her chest.

Another podium came in Australia, after a race with two red flags and a collision involving Fernando's car that made Charlie’s stomach lurch as she watched it, but the car ended up being able to continue.

At the end of April, a good weekend in Baku solidified the third place for Fernando in the drivers’ championship along with Aston Martin moving up to second place in the constructors' championship.

But Miami was shaping up to be different. Qualifying in P8 on a track where overtaking after the start would be difficult was not very encouraging, but a solid pit stop strategy involving two long stints on the medium and hard tires would be key for Fernando to get valuable points that Sunday. There was rain in the forecast overnight, which would make starting on soft tires unfeasible because of the high degradation during Saturday’s sessions. 

Charlie jotted a few things down in her notebook before she left the pit wall to walk back to the paddock. On the way, she tried to think of how to tell Fernando why she wanted to delay his fast laps and hadn’t considered the possibility of a red flag. Maybe if she told him that Verstappen had to abort his fast lap, too, it may help… 

“Like he cares about that”, she thought to herself as she passed her credentials over the badge reader at the paddock’s entrance turnstile. All of the team motorhomes were assembled on the field of Hard Rock Stadium, which made for a unique paddock set up. After passing a group of McLaren mechanics and waving to Lee, an engineer with whom she had worked for a few years, she entered Aston Martin’s hospitality building, heading straight to the second floor, where was the engineering office, the place they  gathered for the debriefs.

Ben and Lance were already in the office. It wasn’t surprising given that Lance had been eliminated in Q1. They were discussing the decision not to put new tires on his car, which jeopardized his attempt to gain a higher position on the grid. Charlie sat down across from them and opened her notebook, checking the notes she'd taken during qualifying and trying to ignore the tension building in her shoulders.

When Fernando came in with Dan, Charlie could see his displeasure plainly on his face. She was bracing herself for another explosion, just as it was during the McLaren-Honda days. It was a creeping, sickening deja-vu, waiting for his commentary on her poor strategy decisions and how her plan had been too risky. However, he wasn’t chatting to Dan about any of that. Instead, they were chatting about the relative effectiveness of the AMR23’s DRS.

“This is it. This is the calm before the storm”, Charlie thought, scribbling something in her notebook about factors to consider before suggesting plan B during the race. She did everything she could to avoid catching Fernando’s gaze.

 The debrief ended with no outbursts or tantrums from Fernando, and Charlie breathed a sigh of relief. As she stood up to leave, her thoughts turned to going back to her hotel room, ordering room service for dinner, and maybe watching last year’s Miami GP and taking more notes.

— Charlie? — she turned around to see that Fernando was on his feet, adjusting his green cap on his head. He was still wearing his overalls, but the collar was open and the zipper was pulled down to the middle of his chest.

— Yeah?

— Can we talk?

— Of course — Charlie replied, trying to hide her nervousness — What do you need?

— Come with me — he said, brushing past her and leaving the engineering office. As she followed behind him, Charlie couldn't shake the sickening feeling that she knew what was about to happen, even more so when Fernando opened the door to his drivers’ room and gestured for her to step inside. 

She had entered several drivers’ rooms over the years, but this is the first time she had been in Fernando’s since he came over to Aston Martin. The room was one of the simpler, more basic ones she’d seen. There was a small desk with his laptop, a chair, a sofa and a kind of small wardrobe open in the corner, with his backpack and his regular clothes inside. The only thing on the wall was a poster of the AMR23. She was surprised. His drivers’ room when he was in McLaren was a bit more decorated, with the flags of Spain and his home province of Asturias adorning the walls. 

When Charlie heard the door close behind her, she felt her shoulders tense. Fernando stepped back around her, pulling his arms out of the sleeves of his overalls so he could take it off.

— Well, what did you want to talk about? — she asked, thinking about how naive she sounded.

— You know what I want to talk about, Charlie — Fernando replied, picking up a bottle of water that was on the table. He leaned back against it as he opened it and took a long drink, all without taking his eyes off of her.

— Is it about your fast lap?

— If you can call that a fast lap — he said, drying his mouth with the back of his hand.

— It was a warm-up lap.

— The third in a row, when I could have done a fast lap and improved my time — he said dryly.

Charlie sighed.

— It was a strategy...

— A strategy that didn't work.

— Because of Charles — she answered immediately.

— You should have known he was going to do something wrong, Charlie. He was having problems with the rear of the car, I saw it when he passed me.

— You could have told me that.

— Why didn’t you see it on my onboard? Weren’t you watching it?

Charlie laughed in disbelief.

— Yes, I was looking at the onboard, but I was also looking at the brake telemetry, temperatures, everyone else’s times, engine readings, the status of your car, and talking to you at the same time.

— Well, you should have paid attention to my onboards so you can see what I see. 

— I could say the same about many things, Fernando, but I know you're doing several things at the same time...

— But you ask for things anyway — he said.

— Because if I don't ask, your car breaks down and I'm the one who has to listen to you whining.

He snorted, running a hand over his face.

— Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, because the weekend is over, Charlie. Your so-called strategy has made it so this entire weekend is just going to be a waste of everyone’s time.

— Do you want me to apologize? — she asked, trying to stay calm — Is that it? You're making this whole speech because you want me to apologize to you?

— No, Charlie. Your apologies are of no use to me now. Your apologies are not going to get me on the podium tomorrow, or even make me score points. Your apologies won't make me a champion again.

— Who ever said you’re going to be a champion again, Fernando? — Charlie muttered. It was reflexive, almost automatic. 

Fernando’s eyes shot to hers, his expression going rigid.

— I did. I said it. I'm going to be champion again — he replied — But only if you stop making strategy calls that hinder me instead of helping me.

— The only thing that hinders you, Fernando, is your ego. If you don’t keep it in check, you'll never lift that trophy again at the end of the year in Paris.

His nostrils flared. Charlie had found his Achilles heel. She felt a sense of immense satisfaction. She knew she shouldn’t continue digging deeper, but a voice in the back of her mind pleaded with her to not pass up the opportunity to hit him where it hurt, as justice for the years of misery he’d caused her.

— It's not a matter of ego, Charlie, and you know it. I am the hardest working driver on the entire grid…

— That's what you think, right? I’ve heard every driver say that — she interrupted him, crossing her arms — But you’re not any better than anyone else.

— I'm better than everyone. I’m the most complete driver out of all twenty of us, I…

— Are you? If you're so good, then why did you lose to a rookie in 2007? — she asked. Now that she’d gotten her claws in, it seemed like it would be difficult to stop. 

— Everyone knows that asshole Dennis favored Hamilton…

— And then what? When you returned to Renault, why couldn't you beat him then? Why did it take Flavio bribing your teammate into crashing out in Singapore to get you on the podium?

The memory of the 2008 scandal made him visibly clench his teeth. Now, Charlie was just playing dirty, but it was intoxicating. The voice in the back of her head urged her on, to give him a dose of his own poison, to make him feel like she did on that fateful afternoon in Montreal.

— You have to have a lot of audacity to say that you are the best while sharing the grid with Lewis — she continued, taking a step forward to face him — He’s the greatest driver of all time, but not only that, he’s a better teammate than you are. He’s better than you at everything.

— Charlie...

— He's better than you in and out of the car, better in the simulator, better than you personally and professionally. He’s even better than you in bed! — she exclaimed, without thinking. She cursed at herself. She’d gone too far. Her desire to damage Fernando’s ego had gotten ahead of her mouth, and she knew it when she watched Fernando’s expression change from anger to surprise.

— How do you know that? — Fernando asked, the shadow of a smile creeping over his face.

She blinked, transfixed. It wasn't like she actually knew what Lewis was like in bed, after all, she had never had anything more than a professional relationship with him. She’d never had any relationships with any drivers, and it was for a good reason, especially working as a woman in a male-dominated environment.

At the same time, though, she wasn't deaf to the rumors running through the paddock. It wasn’t like Charlie enjoyed gossip, but it was nearly impossible to ignore the whispered conversations the caterers and cleaning staff had during off-peak hours in the motorhome, but admitting that to Fernando would be the end of whatever remained of her credibility.

— You shouldn't talk about things you don’t know anything about, Charlie — he said quietly, in the face of her silence.

— But I do… Know — she replied, trying to hide her nervousness when she realized how close he was to her.

— You mean you fucked him? — Fernando asked. The way he’d asked was clearly a challenge.

— Yes — Charlie lied, trying to keep her voice steady. However, she couldn't help noticing how fast her heart was beating inside her chest, or how her eyes insisted on drifting down to his lips — And he's very good.

— Oh, he is? Tell me more.

She felt her mind freeze for a few seconds.

— I'm not going to talk about this with you.

— Why not? — he asked, smiling.

— Because I don't owe you any explanations about my sex life.

— Considering you're making assumptions about my sex life, I think I have a right to know what you consider good sex.

Charlie felt her cheeks heat up.

— He's good — she just replied.

— Did he make you come? — Fernando asked bluntly. A wave of heat raced over Charlie's skin as soon as the word left his lips.

— Like I said, he's really good, unlike you.

— You never fucked me, so you wouldn’t know whether I'm good or not.

— Well, I don't need to.

— Oh, I think you do, Charlotte.

In that split second, it was as if a video tape had been rewound in her mind. Staring into his eyes, Charlie remembered the first time she'd spoken with him, on a cold January morning eight years ago. The image of him, with a well-tailored gray suit and his dark, combed-back hair, was seared into her mind. She remembered perfectly what she had thought when she saw him enter her sector, a wide smile on his face as he shook her hand as Ron Dennis introduced them. 

“Handsome”, she thought. And there, standing inches away from her, with the sleeves of his overalls tied around his hips and his dark green baseball cap over his brown hair, he looked the same way.

Handsome.

Another voice came to the back of her mind, making a not-so-subtle suggestion of what she should do. 

So, Charlie did.

Putting her hands on Fernando's face, she pulled his body against hers, their lips colliding in a rough, passionate kiss, completely devoid of any delicacy. The touch ran through her body like an electric shock, sharpening her senses immediately. The faint scent of the cologne he'd put on before heading out on the circuit seemed to have mingled with something Charlie could only classify as his own, delicious and uniquely his.

Her hands slid from his face to the back of his neck, while her lips parted to allow her to taste Fernando. He was sweet and salty and sour all at the same time, as if all facets of him had combined into the lips of the man she was kissing. Her thoughts were an irrational jumble, Charlie realized, but there was nothing rational about the situation.

With her pulse roaring in her ears, she barely noticed when her back hit the wall, much less when Fernando's hands went down her waist towards the skirt she was wearing. Pulling the green fabric up haphazardly, he pressed his fingers into the skin of her ass, pulling Charlie’s hips flush to his. Feeling her nails dig into his skin, she continued that hungry, almost desperate exploration. It was as if one were the air the other needed to breathe, the surface in that sea of unresolved arguments and feelings.

Charlie only realized she was out of breath when she felt Fernando's lips leave hers, trailing down her jaw, nibbling on her skin. He wasn’t touching her like someone with a point to prove, but like someone who had achieved a goal. Someone who had finally gotten what he wanted.

— Did he do this to you, Charlie? — Fernando asked, in a low voice, his hot breath making her skin crawl — Did Lewis kiss you like this?

— No — she replied, sighing as she felt him bite her earlobe.

— Did he touch you like this?

— No — Charlie said, hands sliding through his hair, his Aston Martin cap long since fallen to the floor.

— So he didn't fuck you — he said, as his lips trailed down her neck — He didn’t give you anything close to what you deserve.

— What I deserve — she murmured, reflexively. There was no room for any coherent thought in the rising fever in her mind. There was only one thing that Charlie could see in his dilated pupils, when he lifted his face from the crook of her neck.

Desire.

— A real fuck — Fernando murmured, his lips brushing hers — With someone who knows exactly how to touch you, how to kiss you, how to make you moan, how to make you come. Someone like me, nena.

Charlie stopped suddenly, eyes fixed on his face. Her mind was in a whirlwind of thoughts, guilt mixing with the adrenaline that was coursing through her body. “What have I done?”, she thought, as he brushed his nose lightly against hers, mumbling something she didn't understand.

— Puedo hacerlo todo. Puedo hacer lo que quieras. Sólo dime que sí, nena.

Fernando, the man who had said in more ways than one that he couldn’t stand her, was telling her that he knew how to touch her, how to kiss her, how to make her moan, how to make her come. Of all people, it was him. The man she hated, the man who had almost made her give up on her dream of succeeding in motorsport. The man she had just kissed, because she couldn't resist her own desire to have him for herself, to try those lips and feel his tender touch.

Him. Why him?

Taking her hands to Fernando's shoulders, she pushed him lightly, in a gesture for him to move away. "I couldn't have done that", Charlie repeated mentally, while trying to adjust her green skirt, which was now horribly wrinkled from being hiked up to her hips.

— Charlie? Are you okay? — he asked.

— Leave me alone — she snarled, before quickly storming out of the room, ignoring his protests and slamming the door behind her. A few steps later, Charlie stopped in the middle of the hallway and leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath and trying to calm her own heart that was beating fast in her chest.

Charlie couldn't understand what had just happened. She couldn't understand how that discussion about winning or not winning the championship turned into sensual whispers about how he would make her come like she deserved, into him biting and kissing her neck.

The idea of having sex with Fernando, even a few weeks ago, sounded like an absurdity. However, at that moment, it no longer seemed like something impossible or ridiculous, but something Charlie actively desired. She wanted to touch him, wanted to feel him inside her, wanted to hear the whisper that would make her moan and see the expression on his face when she achieved his goal.

Putting a hand to her face, Charlie grunted in frustration. “Stop it, Charlotte, stop it, stop it!”, she condemned herself. She couldn't and shouldn't think about that. They hated each other. She hated him. She hated him deeply. Or should.

— Joder! — she heard Fernando yell, followed by a loud, heavy sound, like a fist hitting a table. It was the signal Charlie needed to head back into the engineering office to get her things before heading back to the hotel. She didn’t say anything to anyone, and ignored someone she knew waving to her. She walked through the paddock like a woman on a mission, but her head was elsewhere. All she could think about was what had happened minutes before, how she was filled with Fernando's scent and taste. “I need a shower, urgently”, Charlie thought, as she ordered an Uber on her phone.

If she expected to sleep that night, she was wrong. Anxiety kept her eyes open, glued to the hotel room ceiling. Charlie had thousands of questions in her head. Why had she pulled Fernando against her? Why had she kissed him? Why had she allowed him to touch her? Why didn't she back off? Why had she liked it?

As she was ruminating over the kiss, Charlie saw the sun rise over Miami Beach.

Sunday passed in a blur. She was making such an effort to stay awake and focused on that afternoon's race that she had practically mentally isolated herself from everything around her. Charlie didn't see anything related to the start of the day, not even the much-talked-about entry of the driver at the start of the opening ceremony.

Facing Fernando was the strangest part. They met by chance at the door of the engineering office. Meeting his eyes, Charlie felt her heart jump in her chest, a shiver crawling over her skin.

— Good morning — he murmured, standing in front of her.

— Good morning — she managed to reply, before dodging the driver and heading for the garage.

After a good start by Fernando allowed him to gain some positions, the race no longer had any emotion. In fact, it was so boring that Charlie heard the driver commenting on Lance's overtake that he saw on one of the trackside screens. Lance was fighting for a points place, but Fernando managed to finish third after an otherwise uneventful race. As he crossed the finish line, she felt like a weight had lifted off her shoulders.

— Yeah, P3 today. Very good — she said, her voice flat.

— Very good, guys. It was a lonely race, but we can deal with that.

She didn't watch the podium ceremony or even join the group for team photos with the trophy. The debrief was quick and more focused on Lance than Fernando. As soon as the meeting ended, Charlie got up and left the room, not looking back, even as she thought she heard someone call her name. 

Back in her hotel room, she laid down on the bed and let out a heavy sigh. It felt like she’d been holding her breath since she’d left the track. Charlie felt suffocated, as if she were drowning in her own doubt and fears.

Whenever she felt like this, she knew there was one person she could turn to.

Charlie picked up her phone and tapped on the name in her contacts list. As she listened to the insistent rings, she made a mental calculation of the time zone and mentally condemned herself. It was well after midnight in the UK, not a good time for a phone call. However, someone must be awake, as, seconds later, she heard a sweet voice on the other end of the line.

— Good evening, my dear — Amanda, her grandmother, said. Charlie could tell from her voice that she was smiling, even if she did sound tired — How are you?

— Hi, grandma, good evening. I'm fine, and you?

— I'm fine too, just a little sleepy.

Guilt surged through Charlie's chest.

— Sorry I called so late, I forgot about the time difference…

— It's okay, my love, I've been waiting for you to call. You know I don't sleep without talking to you first.

She smiled. Her grandmother had been the woman she had always considered as her mother. It was Amanda who smiled along with her in happy moments and dried her tears at the difficult ones. It was Amanda who had taught Charlie to love math, and who encouraged her to apply for the work experience at McLaren while she was in university, even though Charlie thought the chances of her getting the placement seemed slim.

— Your grandfather watched the race today — the grandmother continued — He said that driver of yours did well, despite starting down the grid.

Something in Amanda's words made her lips purse.

— Yeah, he did well today — Charlie just said.

She couldn’t think of anything to fill the silence for a few seconds.

— Honey, did something happen? — her grandmother asked.

— No, grandma, nothing happened — she hastened to say.

— Are you sure?

— Yeah, I'm just tired — she said, trying to sound convincing.

— Charlotte Elaine, I've known you long enough to know when you're lying, and right now, I'm sure you're lying to me. Is something going on?

Charlie let out a long, frustrated sigh. She didn't like discussing personal matters over the phone in the best of cases, and this was not the best of cases. However, her grandmother would never let her hang up the phone without saying what was bothering her.

— Darling, please — Amanda insisted, again.

— It's just — she hesitated for a few seconds — I kissed a guy.

— Oh, really? — the grandmother said. She sounded interested — And was it good?

Charlie felt her heart jump in her chest. She didn't know which word to choose to describe what had happened in that room. It hadn't been a simple make-out session that could happen in any corner of the paddock or in any Miami nightclub, but something different. There was emotion there. There was feeling. And she didn't know how to deal with it.

— It was normal, I guess.

Amanda laughed on the other end of the line.

— Clearly it wasn't normal, considering you’re acting very strangely

— I'm not acting strangely, grandma...

— Speaking hesitantly, carefully — her grandmother continued — Is the boy there with you now? Tell him to take good care of you, huh?

— Grandma — Charlie exclaimed, feeling her cheeks heat up — He's not here with me, in fact, I don't even know where he is right now...

— How do you not know where he is? You didn't go to a party on a work weekend, did you? You know these trips are for work, right, Charlie?

She pressed her hand into her face. 

— No, grandma, I didn't go to a party. He only left after the race in his jet, no big deal.

— Jet? He’s rich, then?

Charlie sighed. There was no way out of it.

— Grandma, I kissed Fernando.

— Fernando, which Fernando?

— Alonso.

— The driver?

— Yes.

— Wait, your driver?

— Yes.

Silence reigned on the line for a few seconds.

— And how did that happen? — Amanda asked.

"If only I knew", she thought, sitting up in bed.

— We were in his room in the motorhome, we started talking, and it happened kind of unexpectedly.

Charlie heard her grandmother giggle.

— Well, is he handsome, at least?

— You've seen him on television.

— You know these drivers all look the same to me, the only one that stands out is Lewis, for obvious reasons.

— Okay, grandma — Charlie replied — He's good-looking.

— How good-looking?

— Like, a little taller than me, has a beard and dark hair — she described, trying to ignore the shiver that crept across her skin — His eyes are light brown, with a smudge of green near the pupil. They are the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen...

— Got it — Amanda said — And is he a good kisser?

— Grandma! — she exclaimed.

— I just want to know, Charlie! But something tells me he is...

— Please, grandma...

— Come on, tell me. Was it good?

She pressed her lips together, resting her head on her free hand.

— Yes, grandma, he's good. Very good.

— Wow, so it’s serious!

— It wasn't, grandma. It was just a casual thing, nothing major...

— Considering you’re calling me this late, I don’t think it was that casual — Amanda replied, the smile coming to her voice again. She was definitely more excited about it than Charlie.

— Even if I thought it wasn't casual, he probably thinks it was, so it's no use getting your hopes up.

— Are you telling this to me, or to yourself?

— I’m telling you, grandma — she replied, trying to hide her annoyance — By the way, shouldn't you be sleeping?

— Perhaps, but it's much more interesting to hear you recount your adventures around the world. By the way, are you coming home this week? Ron misses you already.

Charlie smiled at the mention of the cat. He always stayed with her grandparents when she was traveling, especially during double and triple headers, when it became impossible to get back to England between races. Fortunately, Ron liked Jamie and Amanda enough to feel comfortable in their home.

— I will, grandma. I leave tomorrow in the middle of the day, but I won’t get back until Tuesday afternoon, if I don't have any delays.

— Is it that long of a flight? 

— No, it’s not too long, but I have to get two connections. One in Montreal and another in Frankfurt. Then an hour's drive from Birmingham and I'll finally be home.

— Do you want to have dinner with us, since you're going to have to stop by the house to pick up Ron?

Charlie smiled.

— Ah, that would be excellent, grandma. I miss your food.

— I thought you liked American food — Amanda said, laughing.

— It is, but nothing compares to yours — she replied, making her grandmother laugh. That was one of the best sounds in the world for Charlie.

— I can make that pot pie you like, the one with the beef, with extra potatoes. 

The memory of the smell of pies baking in Amanda’s kitchen made Charlie smile fondly. 

— I'd love to, grandma — she replied.

— And in return, you can tell me more about this Fernando Alonso, what do you think?

— Are you blackmailing me?

— Just trying to stay informed regarding the state of your relationships, my dear.

She laughed in disbelief. 

— It’s not a relationship, grandma, and it never will be. 

[f1-birb]

not lando "fans" coming out with the awful "he deserves online harassment" takes jfc can some of these people touch some grass. go for a walk. find something to do off the internet. i know this seems to be an impossible concept for tumblr users to grasp, but you CAN hold people accountable without being an awful human being yourself.

exactly

you can still be a fan of someone but be disappointed by something and say "that ain't it chief"

it wasn't great what was said, there are some elements of neutrality (mandatory) but it definitely leans more positively than it should, PR briefed response or not. he's now attached to those words and people will make assumptions (and from what I've seen also perform Olympic medal worthy mental gymnastics) and what he said I definitely do not condone, endorse or agree with

I hope that he can learn from this in the event of the FIA/FOM inviting another shitty guest to a GP and him having to meet them or be asked about them, but harassing him online won't do anything

what needs to be done is harass the institution who claims to be non-political, and has warned drivers about fines/sanctions/penalties for them speaking their personal views on issues deemed social/political/religious and yet invited that man to a GP, among other controversial guests, paraded him around with the president of said institution and let him wear a hat stamped with a political slogan in multiple photographs

FIA/FOM needs to be held accountable above all, he never should've been invited for one and if they had to because of the social media fall out I could imagine coming from a mile away, they should've banned the hat

and for anyone pissed about the tweet that man made, very good odds are he'd have posted a pic with whoever won and called that team his friend, that's the man's whole damn MO

[blorbocedes]

omg sorry i’m just hyperfixated on the politics of this crazy ass sport 😭 i’ll give it my best shot!

the FIA (Federation Internationale de l’Automobile) is essentially the highest umbrella of authority, they oversee all sorts of different car racing series, including F1. the stewards and race director are employed by the FIA. max mosley (of fascist father and nazi bdsm orgy infamy) was the president for a long while. ben sulayem is the current president, aka he technically has the most authority.

buuuut not necessarily, because this sport is an eternal power struggle between the FIA and F1 itself. i’m not the most qualified to get into the history of it all! but the most basic info is that FOM = Formula One Management, which manages F1 more directly, especially re: commercial rights. FOM used to be controlled by the insane ultimate boss bernie ecclestone but was bought by liberty media in 2017, who is directly responsible for f1’s newfound popularity with netflix, america, etc. it was FOM who organized las vegas, not the FIA. and FOM is currently led by domenicali, former ferrari TP.

FIA/FOM tensions have generally been better since liberty media took over, but they’re flaring up again. this is most visible in the new teams debacle - ben sulayem made a really radical statement in openly courting new teams at the beginning of the year, which FOM has been very loudly opposed to for a while (because of greed). so while the FIA has already approved andretti, FOM will almost certainly reject it whenever they do finally vote on it - which will cause an even bigger mess and probably become an expensive and entertaining court case.

in this case - susie wolff is employed by FOM, not the FIA. so the investigation statement, while likely based on nothing more concrete than that sexist tabloid and rivals complaining, is a way for FIA to assert its power over FOM. in my opinion, it’s not about mercedes, or lewis, or susie herself - it’s about the steadily escalating war between the FIA and FOM.

of course, i’m coming at this from the perspective of a non-merc fan and i understand that AD 2021 is forever gonna haunt every inch of discourse in this sport, but this is my take 😅

messy! informative but thank you, so FOM is essentially Liberty Media. toto seems close to FOM considering how he defended vegas gp

I do think there's grounds for investigation re; Sheila Rao situation which showed toto is willing to trade in his relationships for personal info, and while I think susie has integrity and hasn't done that + rightfully earned her place, just the fact they're in The Position to trade info is a conflict of interest

being said I have no stakes in this, FOM and F1 and Toto should bite each others dicks off

[idontshitpostbuttheolympicpark]

just saw a cool analysis of doriane accidentally taking the chequered flag twice. while I thought the situation was bad with the team not telling her on the radio the race was over, and a pathetic flag wave, what I didn't realise was from the car YOU CAN'T EVEN SEE THE FUCKING FLAG

a penalty that I thought was unfortunate but necessary is clearly honestly bullshit when the FIA and track officials have failed to adequately communicate necessary information to the drivers. they are dependent on it, she should not have been held responsible.

[chussyracing]

christmas f1 news, rumours and interesting facts i learned

(there is a lot because i missed a few days)

Charles Leclerc got a new car after getting a new haircut (and a new partner at the start of the year and new contract according to rumours)

Williams and Sauber car launch on 5th feb

Verstappen tested some cars for Verstappen.com racing (and yes there was a Ferrari too because everyone is a Ferrari fan as Seb would say)

Horner says their 2024's developed car doesn't look as well as he would like it to be and said they had less time than other teams (I will believe it when I see it)

Steve Nielson resigned from his role as fia sporting director and the rumour has it he was unhappy with the fia leading and the stuck up way issues were dealt with, preventing him from introducing new solutions to improve the sport

Aston Martin's new wind tunnel should be completed in September 2024

Max couldn't rent a Merc car on holidays because he was too young for the insurance lol (allowed from 30 years up)

Until now, teams were allowed to work over christmas but now fia had the teams mandatorily close down the factories for 9 days starting with christmas eve (aka 24th december) just like there is a 14 days long shut down in summer. So in 2024 we will technically have a summer break, a spring break and a chritmas break. But since it's f1, there is a grey area - the factory shut down doesn't go for external suppliers

Merc and MCL car launch on 14th feb (according to rumours)

Bia Bustamante f1 academy driver for mcl liked and then unliked and then apologised for liking an ableist Lance Stroll hate tweet (actually i read she apologised and then deleted the apology where she stated she is just a child and then rewrote it but it's not an important detail here)

According to Motorsport Italy rb20 failed the first crash tests

Alpine car launch is rumoured to fall on 7th february

There is a rumour Valtteri will try to compete in cycling championship alongside f1 in 2024 WHAT.

And speaking of Val, although there were rumours previously that he won't extend his contract and will rather retire, now they say he will try to be a part of audi project

Pourchaire said in an interview that he thinks he could do what Oscar did in the same car in 2023

BILD says that Michael Schumacher was driven around in Merc road car and played f1 sounds for brain simulation with familiar sounds but i'd take this with a grain of salt

Drivers voted top 10 drivers in 2023 among themselves (I think all besides Lewis took part in it), the results are: Ver, Ham, Alo, Nor, Lec (note: drivers can't vote for themselves)

Ferrari fired the 2026 engine with positive results (reminder teams cannot work on 2026 cars from aero point of view and other stuff, they can work on engines tho and reports say General Motors are working on the engine for 2028)

Fred Vasseur also says they are both included closely in the development and are satisfied with the project so far

Mick stays merc reserve driver for 2024 while driving in wec for alpine and they say he will prioritise f1 over wec if he is needed for reserve duties

Lewis says Las Vegas will play a big part in the Brad Pitt movie

Carlos has been coming out with. Some interesting quotes. About how strategies in Ferrari aren't a problem. How he is always within a tenth of Charles. How he sees no expiration date on his ferrari contract and wants to become a champ with ferrari.

There were rumours of Newey retiring after his 65th birthday but he denied them

There are rumours about the 2023 season 1B prize pot or more likely how much each team receives (the only interesting things is that the historic bonus ferrari receives every year should be around 50m this year)

Sanz (fia president of senate) says that fia is considering two spanish gps (Madrid and Barcelona) but the rumours are untrue because the responsible authorities didn't even receive the project for approval

Brown proposed f1 could have 28 races calendar with 20 fixed ones and 4 more on top chosen from 8 rotating circuits

[zeravmeta]

vic very much looks like a regular animeboy but his attractiveness goes up a hundred fold because in his introductory event we learn he’s this pathetic drunken hippie slob who needs his students to take care of him and he’s not even above scamming children especially fia because hes always poor even though he lives in a hut in the middle of the woods but at the same time he’s also this vastly hypercompetent genius when it comes to magical animals of all kinds and in the wider context of astra its been shown that wondrous beasts are powerful enough to overrun the continent if they really wanted to and are generally responsible themselves for a majority of the cities aboveground not being razed to the ground by eclispsites because they’re just that naturally powerful so suddenly he goes from this drunken slob nobody to this incredibly powerful forest wizard who has a veritable army at his disposal should he really want but he also very much is just a drunken slob nobody whose far more interested in taking care of his funny pets and wasting fia’s allowance money on his bar tab also he has a mole not only on his face but specifically on his collarbone and wears his tits out so he’s vulnerable to attack

[burstfoot]

OPENS DOOR VIOLENTLY

Fandom: Arknights Number: 9 ("Which characters I think should have interacted more in canon")

Ship: Ptilopsis/Silence Number: 12 ("About three of the scenes that make me have feelings and (if available) find the gifs (well screenshots here lol) that underline my point.")

Character: Dorothy Number: 10 ("If I liked them immediately or if it took a while before I warmed up to their character. Alternatively, if I disliked them immediately or if they lost my trust as their story progressed.")

Thank you for the ask!!! And also thank you for including the questions with the numbers LOL I immediately forgot every single question as soon as i looked away from the ask game post Fandom: 9. Okay well first off I would be doing a disservice if I didn't mention Fiammetta and Exusiai who have tiptoed around interacting for 4 years despite being in an event together and being both directly tied to Lemuen and Mostima, their dynamic could be REALLY interesting and I would love to see them both talk about how Laterano treated them. Why is Exu in Fia's skin btw. Who at HG put that apple pie there. Adding this on to the end because I dont want this question to be the Fiammetta show but she also should've interacted more with Mostima in Guide Ahead, their dynamic is the most interesting part of that event to me & I feel like it gets suprisingly little screen time compared to the angel boys I need Mayer to show up in the Rhine plotline to interact with Silence again and maybe Ifrit or Ptilopsis, I loved her interactions with Silence in Mansfield and it feels like she's sort of fallen to the wayside with all the new plot points and characters. As a whole a Mansfield follow up for the non Rhine Family characters would be greatly appreciated, I wanna see Robin and Kafka interact more too I also want Aosta, Broca and Chiave to interact with Vigil or Penance in whatever follows up on Siracusano, I really need to see the dynamic between those three goofballs that got kicked out of Siracusa and daddy's boy Leon and law-obsessed Lavinia And for one final crackship mention I think Honeyberry and Cantabile should get some screentime together.... I think Honeyberry helping Cantabile get over her trauma response to the metal crabs and All That which happens in her backstory would be really cute... Ship: 12: Well I would be remiss not to mention THE cutest moment in the manwha that everyone's seen

But also the moment of the two of them holding hands after the RL staff start insulting Joyce and Olivia for being infected & Saria steps in to defendd them

All of the moments of them being physically affectionate in the manwha are really precious to me and its really sad that we don't see either of them be that affectionate in the present timeline chapters... the Crisis really hurt them... Even before the Manwha I really like their interactions in Silence's operator record where we see how she met and started taking care of Joyce when she joined RL, this moment in particular

Also this section from DV literally makes me cry every single time I read it wehhh ;-;

Character: 10 I think I already had a predisposition to liking Dorothy because I started playing when Dorothy's Vision was in event limbo and everyone was posting about waiting for her and making jokes about her being CN-exclusive , so I was really excited for her event and saved to pull for her (I still don't have her D:) As I was going through DV though and the truth about her experiments was slowly revealed I started to lose trust in her and definetely started to dislike her for her actions a little bit but by the time it's revealed what her motivations are and her backstory of being from a pioneer family it really didn't take me that long to forgive her and go right back to loving her again (Her design is also really great thank you jackknife <3)

[russilton]

Maybe you'll give a sane response to this because twitter surely isn't lol

If someone likes Lewis for everything he does outside of the sport like his advocacy for the wrong in the world but can't stand him on track and the way he answers F1 questions is that underlying racism?

Okay I’ll start this off with a big disclaimer- I am white, I am not the primary voice you should be seeking about racism, and if a POC person gives their opinion about a matter of racial bias- you should be considering that ahead of mine because it comes from a primary perspective, I can only repeat what I’ve learned.

That said, what I would say is while TECHNICALLY it could be entirely possible to have genuinely divorced opinions on off vs on track behaviour— in all likelihood, yes it is underlying racism, at least on some level.

Not all racism comes in the form of active and direct bigotry, sometimes it’s about the biases it builds up in you.

I would encourage you to consider that if you only support Lewis in the off track actions he does you approve of and agree with, but don’t give him the dignity of being human and not answering things in a way that benefits you or other drivers you like- are you supporting or Lewis, or just what he does for you?

Lewis was a driver before he was an activist, he was a person before he spoke out, if anything it was his isolation as the only black driver in the sport that forced him into a position of advocating - because he had to advocate for himself above all else. All drivers speak from a place of ego but as the most successful driver to ever touch the sport, he’s arguably speaking more from a position of knowledge than most.

Lewis faces a level of pressure and scrutiny that goes above and beyond what other drivers get, both because he dominated for so long, AND because he is POC and faces questions no other driver does.

When he says something out of turn he is often punished for it far louder than others too. Notice how an emphasis is always placed on Lewis to apologise for incidents where other drivers are usually let off. The argument is not “should he apologise” as some take it to be. It’s the fact that max or other drivers can push and shove, but are never expected to own up to it (and when they do, they are are held up high for being ‘good sports’) but if Lewis is involved in a regular on track incident, the daggers are turned on him if he doesn’t publicly go out of his way to say sorry (such as the Oscar incidents).

This is even applied on a sporting level, such as the jaywalking incident in 2023 where the FIA directly stated they wanted to hand out a worse punishment to him as a “role model”

What you need to ask yourself is- why don’t you like Lewis on track/how he answers questions, what specifically don’t you like about it. Did you like him before when he was winning and less controversial to listen to? And is it only now when he is in a position of understandable turmoil and frustration that you’ve started to dislike him? If so, why is he not allowed space to express regret and frustration with what’s happening even if it’s not tactful?

If you never liked him at all, what drivers DO you like, and are you treating their on track behaviour the same as his? Lewis is not crash happy, he’s far from the most radio vocal, he’s aggressive and non passive like all drivers but he is not particularly dangerous on track. I can name multiple drivers who are fan favourites with far worse behaviour- if you don’t like Lewis, do you dislike them too, or are you at least acknowledging that behaviour.

I’d also point out that a lot of our beliefs about sports come from not just our own observations but from the mouths of pundits and journalists we then internalise- it’s why when the head of alpine spoke discouragingly of ocon in public, abuse of him skyrocketed, people put words to feelings you might have already had or not have thought about at all.

So if you dislike something about lewis’ driving- is that because someone told you that’s how they felt, and you followed it? A lot of pundits around f1 have had almost no training around racial bias, they might have barely heard of the concept. I’ve heard some of the most rancid, biased takes come out of the mouths of paid sky presenters without a single thought to the impact, even presenters I traditionally LIKE, such as Ted Kravitz, have been guilty of asking Lewis alone about political issues and no other drivers.

Like I said earlier, racism is not always an overt act of bigotry, but singling out one driver to ask certain different questions without considering why you aren’t asking the others, IS racist. Many pundits also know about as much about the inside of the garages as you do, but they are given more credibility because fame carries their voice further. Lewis has also been in the sport a long time, and has his past brought up constantly despite his efforts to move on and do better - and it doesn’t help that he often has to compete with voices of people he hasn’t spoken to in close to a decade or more coming back to act as if they can see inside his brain.

Now, you don’t have to like everything he says, I have 3 drivers I like, and I’d say I only like about 70% of what comes out of their mouths surrounding their attitude to sport. But they are independent people who are in massive positions of pressure. They also make mistakes, have flaws, and will react to things based on their own experiences. I don’t have to always agree with them to like who they are at their core, or believe they are doing the right thing.

I also don’t have to agree with everything they choose, to still like them. I adore Yuki and he’s a Redbull driver, sportspeople exist as humans beyond their job no matter what many “not political” drivers may try to act like.

But additionally If you’re going to say you like what Lewis does off the track- examine what that is, because despite what a lot of people say, even some fans, Lewis will ALWAYS be a racer. He will tell you himself that racing is his blood and bone, it made him who he is, it’s what he revolves his life around, it links and sticks to the core of his being. People can’t be easily split into things you like and don’t like, their experiences and occupations make them. It’s pretty impossible to separate Lewis into two distinct beings and say you like one or the other.

If people can break down every aspect of why they dislike him and comfortably come away with a genuine belief it’s just how he acts as a driver entirely divorced form any form of bias, then they’re welcome to continue to hold that belief, but I’d say people should consider why they feel the need to talk about their dislike rather than just doing their best to ignore him. There are drivers I don’t like for vibes alone, but I don’t exactly spend much time thinking about them, I couldn’t care less what they’re up to, or justifying why I don’t like them but I’m still an alright person.

I can’t imagine I’m the first person to say all this, and if there were poc folk saying this on twitter (I don’t use twitter, I have no idea what’s been said) and I’m the voice you chose to ask, I’d also encourage you to to examine that. Self examination isn’t a one time thing, it’s a life long process, and I’ve had to do it myself plenty of times and will continue to. Just because you don’t like the WAY someone says something, doesn’t mean they’re wrong.

It shouldn’t take a white guy mainsplaining a topic to make you comfy with it, there’s far, far too many of those already. Listen to primary voices

[silentreigns]

Australian GP 2023 Reflection that nobody asked for

I don't even know where to start. I started watching the race in the middle of it, and at that point George's car just caught on fire. Charles and Alex were already out and I was so confused. I had such high hopes for them and to see them taken out so early made me so sad. But little did I know about the amount of fuckery I was about to witness.

First of all, if there is a red flag with less than 5 laps to go, the race should finish under a safetycar. The FIA keeps putting the theatrics before the drivers' safety and it's so tired. Like we could have avoided the Alpines getting taken out and Pierre & Esteban getting the points they rightfully deserved. All the drivers were talking about how hard it is to get temperature into the tires. This was a disaster just waiting to happen.

Carlos did not deserve the 5 second penalty. Max hadn't even completed the first sector of his lap when the race was red-flagged. And I am still confused as to why it seems that the lap counted but it didn't at the same time. Lance and Fernando were given their positions back so I don't know why the penalty was enforced. Like we all have our differences but I think we can all agree that it is not fair to give 1 driver a penalty when there were like 4 other incidents to happen in the same timeframe.

Logan Sargeant rammed his car into Nyck de Vries, not even an investigation. If the FIA had braincells they would be giving Sargeant a grid penalty, but it won't make much of a difference since it's a Williams and the car is a tractor (although Alex is making the most out of it). Lance and Charles had a racing incident and nobody was penalized. Pierre locked up and crashed into Esteban and no further action was taken. I mean, y'all saw the same footage so like what's the tea???

The McLaren didn't even make much gains pace-wise but they went from 10th to 5th in the championships. Like how is it possible that they're ahead of the Alpines when the Alpines were matching pace with the Ferraris? But good for Lando and Oscar, you could tell they were mentally and emotionally distraught from the first couple of races. They stayed out of trouble and I cannot fault them for it. Oscar getting his first points in his first home GP is a feel-good story that we needed. But I am salty because Pierre was in 5th and it was going to be his best finish in his new team.

One positive to take away from this is that Lewis got a podium despite not feeling connected to the car. He's getting closer and closer to another race win and I am so excited with what he can do in Baku. George complaining about Lewis racing him is whatever because Lewis was under pressure from Max and Fernando so of course he's gonna be fighting for his life. A lot of TeamLH find George annoying but all I see is George trying to make a name for himself. Like the best way to do that is to challenge yourself against the GOAT. And as long as Lewis ain't upset by it then why should I care?

Another positive is that Yuki & Zhou got their points. I feel like if Yuki finished p11 again he would have self-destructed. Now I just want the other rookies to get a chance at points so we can have another season where everyone scores.

Also Max not lining up on the grid "properly": to me it does not make sense for it to be allowed that the car touches the white line. Like in track & field, you're not allowed to do that, you have to be behind the white line. So that was my reasoning for posting about it initially. Also I wanted Lewis to win something and I can admit that. I ain't taking back my initial post though it's kinda funny seeing the responses to it.