#lewis probably getting first podium for the first time

[maxedes]

literally so sick of lando always getting driver of the day. it‘s not a popularity contest. he fucked up a pole and isn‘t winning in the probably strongest car on the grid what is he getting dotd for

[rex-rambles]

➤ PROUD | MAX VERSTAPPEN

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

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

wc: 2.6 k

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

➤ MASTERLIST

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kimi. 

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

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

That's the missing piece, you think. 

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

It's pride, and heartbreak, and knowing. 

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

Nowhere. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Our little baby got his first podium." 

Our. 

Little. 

Baby. 

Oh shit. "Are you pregnant?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Probably wasn't too early to announce the baby.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[starkwlkr]

she’s the boss | sebastian vettel

ferrari team principal!reader

an: for fanfic purposes, sebastian won a championship with ferrari let me be delusional sorry lewis

2015

A new season of formula 1 had started and with it came the arrival of Sebastian to Ferrari. While Sebastian was dominating the track with Red Bull, you stayed with the red team and in 2014, you were declared the new team principal. Of course the news made headlines. A woman as team principal for one of the top teams in formula 1? Would Enzo Ferrari approve of this?

But you were determined to prove you belong with the team. That was something Sebastian admired about you.

Race after race, Kimi and Sebastian finished in the points. It was clear that the season was Ferrari’s season. After each race, you always made sure to watch Kimi and Sebastian on the podium. Each podium, Sebastian made sure to wink at you. Sometimes he would even mouth a few loving words towards you.

After Sebastian’s victory in Singapore, the German had asked you to meet him for a celebratory dinner. Thinking he had asked Kimi and others from the team, you didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t until he knocked on your hotel door that you finally figured it out.

“So is this a date?” You asked.

“Only if you want it to be.” Sebastian replied.

“You are such a flirt, Sebastian Vettel.” You playfully rolled your eyes.

“I’ve been told that, but it sounds so much better coming from you.”

Soon, you and Sebastian were on your way to a restaurant that he thought you would love. It wasn’t too fancy, but it was perfect for you two.

Sebastian, being the gentleman he is, made sure you felt comfortable at all times. Instead of talking about work, he wanted to get to know you better. He learned that you always loved the color red, about your siblings and that when you were younger you had a massive crush on Patrick Swayze. When your food came to the table, Sebastian took the opportunity to ask something he’s been dying to know.

“Do you think we can go on another date soon?” Sebastian asked.

“I want to, but what if the FIA thinks what we’re doing is inappropriate?”

You enjoyed being around Sebastian. Not only was he a great driver, but he was an even greater person. He always made you laugh and comforted you when you needed it. It was hard not to fall in love with Sebastian Vettel.

“Sebastian, I don’t want either of us to get fired.” You told him.

“I guess we’ll have to sneak around. God, you make me feel like a teenager again.”

So that’s what you did. Before every race, you would sneak into his driver’s room and give him a good luck kiss. He insisted on getting one from you every race, you didn’t kind of course.

It was the last race of the 2015 season and Sebastian was fighting Lewis for the championship. You were nervous, but confident that Sebastian would bring home the title. It felt like a dream come true seeing Sebastian come in first while Lewis came in third.

“Sebastian Vettel, you’re the world champion! You did it, Seb!” Sebastian heard you on the radio.

“This one’s for you!” His message warmed your heart. If only you could truly celebrate as a couple without hiding.

At the podium, Sebastian was all smiles. Who wouldn’t? He had just one his first championship with Ferrari. It was a dream come true. While you stayed with the team, Sebastian celebrated on the podium with Kimi and Lewis.

“Y/n, you’ve been called to the stewards.” Sebastian’s race engineer, Riccardo, told you. “Have we been given a penalty just now? Do you know something?”

“No . . . If Sebastian asks, tell him I’ll see him later. We have no penalty, I’m sure of that. This is probably not serious.” You tried to play it off, but he wasn’t buying it.

“Okay, if you say so.” Riccardo gave you a hug before you left.

As you walk to the stewards, people around you called your name followed by congratulations or a hug. At the moment, you didn’t even feel like celebrating. All you felt was the nerves going through your body.

Finally, you made it to the stewards office ready to face what was coming. Would you be fired for being in a relationship with one of your drivers? You hoped not.

You entered the office and saw the FIA president, Jean Todt, looking over race footage. When he noticed you, he smiled. You weren’t told he would be attending the race.

“Y/n, congratulations to you and Ferrari. You have done a great job. I hope I didn’t interrupt any celebrations yet.” Jean told you.

“No, Sebastian was still celebrating on the podium when i was called here.” You tried your best to look fine, but deep down you were scared.

“Speaking of Sebastian, he’s a great driver, isn’t he?” Oh no, here it comes.

“Yes, Ferrari is honored to have him and Kimi as well. They’re both incredible drivers”

“But what do you think about Sebastian?”

Suddenly you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Jean, you know I respect you and Ferrari and Formula one so much. I don’t want to lose my job. I love this team to death. I understand what I did was inappropriate and it will never happen again, I swear by it. But if I’m no longer the team principal, I understand.” You blurted out.

All Jean did was chuckle. What?

“You think you’re fired? Y/n, Ferrari just won another championship and you think I’m going to fire you? The team would be crazy to let you go.” Jean spoke.

“Can I ask why I’m here then? Did Sebastian get a penalty?” You gasped. It would absolutely crush you if Sebastian got a penalty and he got his championship taken away.

“No, no! You’re here because I wanted to congratulate you and Sebastian on your engagement.”

What?

“I’m sorry?” You stood there more confused than ever.

“Marriage is a beautiful thing. I’m not yet married, but i know it is. I’m sure you and Sebastian will be very happy with each other.” Jean said. “I don’t want to hold you here for much longer. I don’t want Sebastian thinking you were kidnapped. Congratulations.” Jean gave you a hug.

Again, you were so confused. Did he know something? As you left the office, you saw Sebastian waiting outside with a concerned look on his face.

“What happened? Hey, talk to me.” Sebastian grabbed your hand. He was surprised you didn’t pinch or gave him a look for grabbing your hand in public.

“Did you say something to Jean about me?” You ask him.

“Like what? You know I always talk about you.” Sebastian replied. It was true. He took any opportunity to talk about you.

“Well he congratulated us on our engagement, which I didn’t know about. When were you going to tell me we were engaged?”

Oh shit, thought Sebastian.

“I might’ve told Jean that I loved you so much that I would marry you as soon as possible. To be fair, i was drunk! But that doesn’t mean it’s a lie!”

All you could do was laugh. At least he wasn’t the type of drunk to cause problems. You found it cute that he said that when he was drunk actually.

“You’re unbelievable, Seb.” You smiled at him.

“So you think we should do that? Get married?” He placed a kiss on your hand.

“When the time comes around. Come on, champ, let’s celebrate.” You finally kissed him not caring that others were around you. You were done hiding.

[viennakarma]

My dearest friend and enemy

Part 1 | Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.

Word count: 7.8k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. Obviously we don't have all the facts with whatever happened to Lewis and Nico, but I have my own theories, that I tossed around this story here and there. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)

I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was getting way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

[If you have never listened to Tamino, or never heard this song, please do a favor to your brain and heart, and listen!]

Find me on Twitter!

PART 2 (END)

You wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry.

You repeated those words to yourself as you stared at your fucked up kart, it wasn’t even starting. You didn’t have any more money to repair it, and if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be able to keep going in the competition.

“Hey, are you alright kid?” Someone stopped you, and your tears fell down. You used the sleeve of your overalls to wipe your face.

“I won’t make it to the final round of the competition,” you pointed to your kart.

The boy knelt down beside you, taking a look at your kart. It was the first time you really looked at him. He was a bit older than you, probably two or three years, since you had seen him in the next category, and you knew he was one of the best from what you could see.

He walked away suddenly, but came back a minute later with a tool box. He knelt down and started tinkering with your kart.

“What- what are you doing?” You asked crouching beside him. He only hummed, seemingly concentrating on his work.

After a few minutes of silence, he asked you to test to see if it would work, and you started your kart, and it did work.

“Oh my god!” You smiled, leaving the kart, “how- how much does it cost?”

“Don’t worry, I wanted to help,” he shrugged, putting back his tools.

“Are you sure?” You asked again.

“Yes,” he stood up, and as his eyes found yours, shining under the sunlight, you smiled at each other.

“Thank you so much!” You said, offering a hand for him to shake.

“I’m Fernando,” he said, and as you said your name back, he smiled a little shyly and just said, “I know.”

“You know?” You whispered.

“Yeah. I’ve seen you in your kart. You’re good.”

You bashed under his praise, cheeks warming and stomach full of butterflies.

From then on, you and Fernando became friends, always meeting up in karting competitions, despite being usually in different categories, since he was a bit older than you. But you’d always be seen together on those occasions, or either of you on the stands, cheering for the other. Your parents knew you were close friends, and after a while, your parents would take turns at taking you two for competitions, usually going together.

You met again when you got to the Spanish Junior Championship, it was your first time at that competition and it would be Fernando’s third. Your rivalry was mostly playful in that competition, you were still the best of friends, even when you got close to his score, you still managed to leave the rivalry on the track. When it ended and you stared up at Fernando from the second place podium, you felt proud of him, happy even. You understood that he had more experience than you, winning that competition three times in a row, and you always would have next year to catch up to him.

That day when he took your hand to walk back to his dad, he held your hand tight. And when they dropped you off at home, you winked at him.

“I’ll catch you next year.” You walked to the door hearing him and José Luis laughing back in the car.

You didn’t manage to catch him next year. Fernando reached new heights as he moved up to world championships. Life took you apart, and without your greatest opponent in the championship, you took it home for three years in a row.

The next few years, you and Fernando were mostly apart. The distance was eating you thin, even when you two managed to talk for a couple of hours on the phone, or whenever he sent you letters talking about his biggest achievements. You still saw each other over summer and winter, which was what mostly kept your bond strong. You also managed to kart for fun sometimes, or go for ice cream, or just sit on the porch of your house, talking about life. You two always shared an ice cream on your birthdays, a tradition that was born ever since you were 13, and you and Fernando gathered together every coin you had to be able to buy one ice cream cone that you happily shared sitting on a sidewalk.

“We’ll make it to Formula 1 one day, Nena.”

You laughed. Despite being the greatest dream of them all, by that time, it had been twenty years since the last woman had been in a Formula 1 car, really competing. You wanted to, so bad, but you didn’t want to get any hope for it to be crushed later on.

“You, most likely, Nano. You’re brilliant, I’m sure you’re going to be a world champion one day,” you said, playful, “just don’t forget us peasants when you’re rich and famous.”

“You have too much faith in me, Nena,” he shook his head.

“No, I just know stuff. When you get your world championship, I hope you will hear my voice in your head telling you I told you so.”

He laughed it off.

Fernando extended you a bottle of cheap wine, it was his way of celebrating your 18th birthday, now you were of age. The wine warmed you up, leaving a pretty stain in both of your lips. 

“What about that girl you liked? Are you dating her yet?” You asked to break the silence.

“No…” he shrugged then took the bottle from you to take a chug straight from it, “she’s not for me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, even though he didn’t look particularly unhappy about it.

“Don’t be. It was just a silly crush,” his lips turned down, “The girls don’t find me attractive enough,” he shook his head, feeling shy for having this conversation with you, “and I don’t know, I’ve always been a little shy, I guess. I don’t have much experience in romance. None, if I’m being honest.”

“None?!” You sounded shocked at his lack of romance. He just shook his head. 

At eighteen you had your fair share of teen love, having crushes here and there, sometimes even sharing kisses under the bleachers at school. Fernando was your best friend and you knew him like no one, and you could see that he was lonely and feeling embarrassed, up until that point, his life had been school, karting and work to fund his karting.

“Would you like to?” You asked, suddenly turning to him after drinking a sip of courage from the wine bottle.

“Like to what?” He frowned.

“To be kissed?” You whispered, and looked behind you, inside your house, where your parents were inside.

Your heart raced faster than you ever did, his pretty eyes looking for your face, trying to find any sign of joking, like you were just being silly. But you were serious, looking at his face intently. You were about to back pedal when he nodded softly.

“What-” his voice failed, and he gulped nervously, “what should I do?”

“Just follow my lead, and you will feel what to do,” you said, extending a hand and holding his face, “close your eyes.”

He did, and you just closed the distance quietly, but when you had barely touched his lips with yours, he bursted out laughing, leaning back. You also laughed at the strangeness of the situation.

“It’s ok, we don’t have to, Nano” you recovered, but he shook his head, giggling.

“No, sorry, sorry! You’re my favorite person, I trust you,” he sighed, closing his eyes again.

You held his face, trying to get closer again, and this time he let you. With a soft press, you pecked his lips for a couple of seconds. You felt butterflies in your stomach, and they pushed you to push into his lips, mouth opening a little and him following your lead. One of his hands found your face, and you deepened the kiss. He was inexperienced but surprisingly patient, letting you lead and slowly picking your pace and moves. Your kiss turned into an almost make out session, lasting long minutes, with Fernando getting the hang of it with every passing second. When you parted, his cheeks and lips were red, and you two smiled nervously at each other.

“Was that ok?” You asked, suddenly insecure.

“More than ok,” he whispered back, “I think we-”

A loud noise from inside your house made you two jump away from each other, and a second later, your mom’s voice boomed through the door, reminding you of your curfew, and checking your watch, you noticed it was almost eleven.

“Sorry, Nano. I have to go,” you stood up and he followed you.

“See you Saturday to go karting?” He asked just to confirm the plans you had made earlier.

“See you,” you waved awkwardly before sprinting inside your house.

Skipping to your room, you locked the door behind you and pressed a hand to your lips, still warm from kissing your best friend. Going to your window, you pulled on the curtains and watched through the gap as Fernando left, calmly walking down the street.

You never talked about it. And when you met again at the end of the week, none of you mentioned the kiss, things quickly went back to normal as you two pretended it never happened. Over a few months, your heart never let you forget about the kiss you shared with your best friend, and whenever you laid in bed to sleep, your mind would wander back to that specific night. You spent months building up the courage to confess you had feelings for him, and you wanted to be more than friends. Your choice was to tell him on his birthday, when you usually would go for a birthday ice cream.

“I need to tell you something-” You said at the same time he muttered, “Can I tell you something?”

“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing to you, but at that point, your bravery quickly faded.

“No, you first. You’re the birthday boy!”

“Uh, I’m dating a girl. I’m going to introduce her to you and my family at the birthday party tonight.”

That moment, with a smile frozen on your face, a small part of you was ripped forever. The excitement and fear of a young love turned into stone at the pit of your stomach. To this day, you don’t know how you managed to not burst into tears that very moment. Instead, you kept smiling, asking Fernando for more details so he could get distracted and not notice the pain in your eyes.

Managing to bury what you decided to call a silly teen infatuation after a few months, your friendship with Fernando became even stronger everyday that passed. 

You made it to the international and European competitions, winning the former twice in a row, and the latter once. You were in the Euro Open when Fernando made it to Formula 1.

He told you personally, when he signed with Minardi, and you were so happy you jumped on his arms, hugging him tight and screaming.

“I told you! I told you!” You shouted, as he carried your feet from the floor, “My best friend is in Formula 1! Oh my god, Nano!” You let go of him, your smile barely fitting your face, “I’m gonna be insufferable! I’m claiming bragging rights right now!”

He only laughed at your happy ramble.

You balanced your competitions with working double shifts for almost two months, so you could afford to go to the Spanish Grand Prix the year of his Formula One debut. He didn’t win anything that year, but he still had your immense support every step of the way. When waves of self doubt came and left him shaken, you’d hug him and whisper softly how he was just a rookie, how he would still have time to prove himself.

“You’re gonna be one of the best there is, Nano.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

He also would show you support whenever your schedule at the Euro Open didn’t coincide with his at Formula 1. It was one of the best feelings to get to the podium and see your best friend as you held the trophy. When you finally found him after the podium, he hugged you for a moment, commenting on his favorite moments from your race. As you stood, he gestured to someone, and a beautiful girl came closer.

“Nena, this is my girlfriend, Lucia,” he pointed. Your smile froze for a second. Another one, since the girl from last year couldn’t handle the distance of dating someone who was constantly traveling the world.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You shook her hand, suddenly self conscious of your frizzy hair and sweat damp overalls. She was so pretty. So much prettier than you. 

Lucia was pretty and kind, a little bit clingy, but she treated you very well, and wasn’t jealous of your friendship with Fernando, different from the last one. All your flings never went as far as becoming boyfriend or girlfriend, so you decided to focus more on racing and trying to make a name for yourself.

“Fernando,” you called one of the rare days you two were both free and could laze around, this time, sitting on the ground of the garden, staring at the clear sky and sharing a pint of ice cream.

“Hm?”

“I talked to your dad, and you’re going to be free the day of the last race of the Euro Open, so I was wondering if you will come to see me become the champion?” You turned to him, a smile adorning your face.

“Confident, are you?” He teased your certainty that you would win the competition.

“Not confident, just focused,” you corrected him, and started explaining the date of the race, but as you talked, his smile quickly faded and you stopped.

“I’m sorry, Nena. It’s Lucia’s graduation that day, I can’t miss it.”

You swallowed, thinking it would matter so much to you that he’d be there, but at the same time, you didn’t want to be selfish or make it seem like you’re competing with the girl he loved. You tried to disguise the disappointment in your face, but he noticed. At that point he knew you for half of your lives, he knew very well when you tried to mask your sadness. And unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of that sad face one too many times.

“Oh,” you nodded, “Don’t worry, I totally understand.”

Fernando pressed his lips thin, your meek voice doing nothing to soothe the squeezing in his heart.

The day you won the Euro Open, you could barely contain your happiness as you stood on the podium, showing your trophy to your parents, who were watching you all emotional. As the podium ceremony finished, you walked back to your parents, your mom wiping her tears and your dad the happiest. Then, you finally noticed Fernando was with them.

“Nano!” You hugged him.

“Congratulations, champion!” He said. Your heart was so full you thought it would explode, so all you managed to say were two words.

“You came.”

“You called.”

Later you found out through your mom, who found out through Fernando’s mom, who found out from Fernando’s dad, that Fernando and Lucia had broken up. They said it was because of the distance and the relationship didn’t last more than seven months. You couldn’t blame her, you as his best friend barely saw him that year either.

You became a reserve driver for Renault in 2003, meeting Flavio Briatore yourself after you won the Formula 3000 two years in a row. You knew that, by that time, Fernando had ties with Flavio, but the man assured you it had nothing to do with Fernando, and everything to do with you being extremely talented.

Still, that same week you found Fernando, to inquire if he had anything to do with Flavio’s invitation, but he assured you that you’d achieved that with your own merit. The unexpected chance to race came when by the end of the following year, Fernando’s teammate was fired by the end of the season. So you had to replace him for the remaining three races of the season, the team fighting for P2 in the constructors championship. The first two races you went alright placing P7 and P5, but still not where you wanted to place.

“Hey, you’re doing great, Nena,” Fernando told you right before the race started. He knew you were upset, frustration practically emanating from your body.

“Not as great as I can do,” you shook your head.

“Just do your best, ignore everything else.”

You nodded, before closing your overalls and gettin ready to get in the car. That race, you and Fernando managed to race just like in your karting days, with a silent partnership never seen before coming from Fernando. You placed a 2-3 podium, him ahead of you.

When you got out of the car, you jumped straight into his arms, screaming and celebrating. Your first ever podium in Formula 1.

During post race interviews you accidentally let out to the media that you and Fernando were childhood best friends, which they took as a personal reason to go digging into your lives.

Next season, Flavio signed you with the team. But before anything, he sat you down for a talk. He explained how Fernando would be top priority this year, you were a rookie, and they would offer you all the support but you had to help Fernando first.

“You will gain experience, work together with your best friend, and we can achieve great things this year. And depending on how good of a performance you show this year, next year you will be able to race for the championship, yes?” Flavio explained.

And you were fine with that, Fernando would be the main priority while you took the year to get used to the car, to being in an entirely new category, while helping your best friend reach his peak. It was the dream, finally. It was the thing both of you had daydreamed together, nothing could get in the way of that.

So you did just that. You kept your head down, fighting fiercely against your rivals, and keeping yourself out of the way whenever you and Fernando were close in a race. Your time would come, as Flavio had promised. That season you managed good results in the points, and even got five podium finishes, which landed you fourth in the drivers’ championship and managed Renault to win the constructors.

That day in Interlagos, during the Brazilian Grand Prix, you woke up knowing Fernando would become world champion. You didn’t tell him to not put any more pressure on him. He only needed a podium to mathematically become the champion of the world.

He finished P3, and you finished P7. Seeing Fernando radiantly happy, dancing, shouting and jumping was etched forever in your brain as one of your happiest memories. The way he eventually found you, holding you firmly against him, the both of you crying happy tears became headlines all around the world.

“I told you, didn’t I?” You broke the hug so you could stare into his red rimmed eyes.

“You did. You’re right more often than not, I’ve come to realize.” He whispered. When someone tried to put a mic in your faces, Fernando pushed it away.

“This is your moment, go.” You gestured to the other side, where he had to go before the podium.

Looking up from the ground to Fernando, you were so happy you thought your heart would burst open. And you couldn’t wait for it to be your turn, to feel this happiness the other way around.

That night, you, Fernando and the entire team got ready to party, to celebrate his championship. You dressed up to the nines, putting makeup and spending a good half an hour styling your hair. When you left the elevator, meeting the whole team at the lobby, they shouted and whistled saying you were pretty. It made you a bit shy but you liked the attention.

You and Fernando danced and drank like crazy that night, going strong all the way into the morning. When the party ended and you two sat on your suite balcony, watching the sun rise, you bought out an ice cream pint you had kept in the room minibar.

“How do you feel, Mr. World Champion?” You sat cross legged in front of him.

“Like a dream come true, sometimes I don’t even believe it’s real,” he said, staring into the horizon.

“Remember when we would talk about this moment?” You took his hand in yours, as he nodded, “Wow. This is great. I’m so happy for you, and happy for fifteen year-old Nano, the bright eyed boy that fixed my kart charge free.”

It’s barely a second after you finished speaking that Fernando leaned into your space and just kissed your lips. It took you a second to understand what was going on, but when his hand found your hair, you reciprocated. His lips, that had been cold from the ice cream quickly became warm under your ministrations. You held his shoulders and let him pull you closer, until you were straddling his lap. The kiss was messy, all over the place, clanking lips, teeth and tongue. You moaned softly as he squeezed your ass, and you pulled his hair at the nape, grinding down on his lap, making him groan too.

“We should not,” he said, breaking the kiss. You nodded, panting.

“Yeah, totally, we-” you tried to speak but he nipped at your neck and you lost all train of thought.

“No, we won’t ruin-” he tried again but you pulled his hair, forcing his head up so you could kiss him.

“You’re right-” you muttered against his lips, right before smashing it when you kissed him again. You stayed there, kissing, making out like you were teenagers again, too scared to reach for each other's clothes and take the next step.

When the sun was fully up in the sky, and whatever was left of the ice cream had melted, your alarm rang, and you and Fernando parted. You were about to invite him to sleep with you for a few hours when he paused, his face worried. Fernando took one of your hands.

“This is a one time- thing, right?” He frowned, and you swallowed before nodding.

“Yes, of course.” You don’t correct him with memories of your eighteenth birthday.

“I just, I don’t want anything to ruin our friendship,” he stared at you, visibly scared for your friendship, and you didn’t have the heart to ask for more.

“It won’t ruin, I promise. If you want, we can forget it ever happened,” you said, hoping and praying he would change his mind. But he looked relieved at your words.

After he left, you sat down on the bed, disheartened, knowing that these scraps of affection would have to be stored in a safe spot inside your heart, and would be nothing more than memories, and what-ifs you’d only dare to look at late in your sleepless nights. You wondered how many times he would have to undervalue your romantic affections for you to understand he didn’t want you and never would. That was the second time you shared a moment, and the second time he had dismissed it. It’s not meant to be, you whispered to yourself.

When the new season started, you had gotten a grip over your feelings for him, focused on moving on. Being in love with your best friend for around a decade was pathetic enough.

Fernando was great during the start of the season, scoring two wins within the first three races. And despite not being the results you wanted, you placed top ten in all of them, even managing one podium finish.

When the fourth race came, though, it was when you and Fernando started to collapse. It was a very carefully plotted race for you and your team, and after managing your tyres with care, you didn’t have to pit twice. And you won, for the first time ever, you stood on the top of the podium. Unfortunately, Fernando didn’t get a podium. Holding your trophy, you looked down from the podium looking to your team, and searching for Fernando.

He wasn’t there, and your heart shattered a bit with his absence.

Maybe he had a problem and couldn’t be there for you. Maybe he was busy.

You went down to speak to the press, happily talking about strategies, how you and your team masterminded it, how you managed to preserve your tyres for longer than expected.

“How do you and Fernando manage to balance your friendship out of the track with the rivalry happening inside the track?” Someone asked. You were caught by surprise, taking a few seconds to actually compute the words he said.

“Well, I haven’t seen Fernando yet, but I believe he’d be happy for my good result as much as I’d be happy for him,” you told him, but immediately regretted it as the reporter had a gotcha expression on his face.

“Well, actually, this is what Fernando said a few minutes ago when he gave an interview-”

The man gave you a tape recorder attached to a pair of headphones, and your stomach filled with dread as he pressed rewind and play.

“Fernando, today’s win puts your best friend as a contender for the championship, what do you say?”

“Well, I believe she is talented, but too young and not yet ready to face me and actually compete for the championship.”

His voice was bitter, like he didn’t see you as nothing but a bug under his shoes. Instead of making you sad, it only left you seething in anger, but as you removed the headphones, you controlled the urge to smash the headphones on the nearest wall and smirked coldly to the camera that was waiting for your reaction.

“What do you think about Fernando saying you’re still not ready to become world champion?” The reporter urged, waiting for a beef that he would successfully get.

“Well, I guess he feels threatened by me, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” you shrugged, not caring about adding more fuel to the fire. If Fernando thought he could go running his mouth and you’d be fine or not jab him back, he was in for a surprise.

After wrapping up the interviews, you finally managed to go to your room and take a shower. You were getting ready to leave when Fernando found you again, walking into your room without bothering to knock. You didn’t even look at him, just kept packing your bag.

“Nena…”

“Don’t fucking talk to me,” you shook your head, holding on to the anger instead of allowing yourself to be sad. How he was able to ruin your first ever win in Formula 1, you couldn’t know.

“Nena, please, just-” He tried again, blocking your path to the door.

“No! Fuck you, Fernando!” You took a step back, letting your bag fall to the floor, an accusatory finger pointing to his face, “How dare you do this to me? You know how many times I cheered for you? How many times I wasn’t even on the podium and still, I was happy for you? Huh? I was there for you every step of the way, and you can’t be there for me once? Now you go out there and disregard my win in front of the whole world? What did I ever do to you for you to say that shit about me?” Your voice trembled, but you refused to cry in front of him, “I’d never do that to you, you selfish asshole.”

“I shouldn’t have said that, but I was pole and didn’t even manage to turn it into a podium? I was upset, the strategy fucked me up! I know I should not have said that! You’re right! I was selfish and an asshole-”

“Damn right you were!” You shouted, then picked up your bag, “I don’t want to see you right now.”

You walked past him, leaving at once.

That night, you went to celebrate with the team and without your teammate, you got pretty wasted, dancing and drinking like you had never done before. You refused to let yourself feel down because of Fernando’s big mouth. Dancing the night away, you didn’t stop even when people on the team asked you to, since you were getting out of hand. You were grinding on a stranger, dancing to reggaeton when you felt a hand on your arm.

“Let’s go,” the voice said and you turned, seeing Fernando in front of you. He looked like he was dressed in pajamas and hair all disheveled.

He was asleep when someone on the team called him because they wanted to leave and you were being difficult, so they hoped that your best friend could come pick you up and convince you to leave.

“Excuse me?!” You pulled your arm from him.

“We’re leaving!” Fernando said, pointing to where your team was, seeing it empty, “you’re not going to stay here alone.”

Begrudgingly, you let him lead you outside, one hand in your arm, and the other one on your back. You stumbled in your heels, and Fernando pressed you against the wall, kneeling to remove your shoes and help you walk better outside. Silently, he drove you back to the hotel, while you were with your arms crossed and sulking.

He walked you to your room, helping you change into pajamas, then tucked you into the bed. He stood there for a second, pushing your hair away from your face as you closed your eyes, letting his knuckles run over your cheek softly.

“I wish-” you mumbled, sleepy, “I wish you were happy for me.”

His eyes filled with tears, seeing just how awful he had been to you. A dream was coming true and all he could think of was himself.

“I am, Nena. I’m so happy for you,” He said, but you didn’t answer, already asleep, due to being tired from the race and heavily drunk.

You woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach churning hangover. Still, you showered, drank tea and got ready to go home. When Fernando knocked on the door of your hotel room later that day to apologize, you were already on a flight to Spain. Your birthday would be later that week and your family wanted to throw you a dinner party. 

Your birthday was nice, despite obviously feeling Fernando’s absence.

You were sitting alone on the porch, after the party, when he showed up, late in the night. You didn’t say anything as he walked up to you.

“Peace offering?” Fernando showed you a small ice cream pint “I’m so sorry. I never meant to undermine you. I was a jerk, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so, so sorry.”

You hesitated for a second, but his eyes were so gentle, remorseful, that you couldn’t help but give in. You jumped into his arms so suddenly he almost dropped the ice cream, but he managed to balance it and hug you back with the other arm.

“Happy birthday, Nena,” he whispered, 

“Thank you,” you said, without letting him go, “I’m sorry too. I apologize for implying you felt threatened by me.”

“You should have called me worse things,” he whispered.

You ended up sharing the ice cream once again, talking about life.

Deep down, you hoped things would go back to normal, but a part of you knew that things would never be the same. You two were too much alike for anything to work. Too proud. Too stubborn. Too competitive. When you were good, it was great, but when you were mad, your words were daggers.

The both of you tried to stay normal the next couple of races, but it was strained, forced, especially when you were racing each other. You supposed Fernando was used to you backing down for him, since it was all you had done the year before when you were a rookie. But now you were used to the car, to explore all the possibilities while pushing your tyres to their maximum, while trying insane strategies and making it work. You were a risky driver, just like him, often seen as reckless.

All the while, the media started catching up to it. They went digging to find pictures of you and Fernando when you were kids, in karting and junior competitions, finding out people to interview, old classmates, people you two had met over the years, telling everyone about your close friendship, about you growing up together. Despite you both refusing to comment on your past, the journalists would always find a way to learn more and more about you.

Eventually, it got to your nerves, harsh words were often said whenever questions were thrown at you. You were in a press conference, where Fernando was also there along with a few other drivers.

“It is noticeable that you and Alonso’s driving style is very similar, would you say that he taught you everything you know?”

You didn’t like his tone, you hated whatever he was implying, not because of Fernando, but because it meant to reduce your efforts and abilities.

“No, Alonso has no part in my racing,” your tone was firm against the mic, and you could feel Fernando’s eyes on you, two chairs away on your left.

“But you grew up together?” The man insisted, and you loudly sighed, exhausted from everyone trying to make you talk about it all the time.

“And that doesn’t mean anything!” You said with gritted teeth.

There was a moment of silence right after your outburst, and you didn’t dare to look anywhere besides ahead. When the questions moved on to other drivers, you breathed again. Finally sparing a glance to Fernando, he only looked at you for a fleeting moment, but you knew him so well, you could recognize his teary eyes. Only then it dawned on you how badly you fucked up by insinuating he didn’t mean anything to you.

When the conference ended, you watched as Fernando left really quickly, not even looking in your direction. You ran, trying to find him, going to his room that was right beside yours.

“Fernando-” You walked inside, not even bothering to knock.

“So, our friendship means nothing!” He shook his head, looking disappointed.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Nano!”

“Now I’m Nano again?” He scoffed.

You wanted to cry and plead, to explain that you never meant it this way. You were just tired of people trying to attribute your success to others. You were tired of people comparing the two of you, and saying everything you were came from him, just because he joined the category five years before you. 

“Fernando, please-”

“Leave.” His eyes were cold, almost detached when he pointed to the door.

“Please, Nano…” You whispered, feeling your own eyes welling up with tears. He just shook his head ‘no’ again.

You walked out quietly, not allowing your tears to fall down as you got into your room, inhaling and puffing your chest. You didn’t let up, trying to talk to him again, because it was just a misunderstanding.

Three days later, you tried to find him again, after the race ended, hoping he would have calmed down after a good result, a P2 in that race. You knocked on his door and entered. He was changing clothes as you walked in, he finished dressing a shirt.

“What?” He said, barely looking at you, as he sat down on the sofa, brushing his hair.

“I wanted to talk about what I said during-” your words were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Fernando said, and soon, two pretty girls walked in, wearing pretty dresses, one blonde and the other brunette, “pretty girls!”

You recognized they were grid girls, and they looked familiar from this weekend.

“Can we talk?” You said, trying to make him at least send the girls away for a moment.

“I’m listening,” he smirked, and you gulped as the blonde ran a hand up and down his chest. The brunette leaned into his ear with a seductive smile, whispering something.

“Fernando, please…” You asked again and he didn’t even look at you, laughing at something the girls whispered to him, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, before turning in your heels and leaving his room.

Shame and jealousy burned inside you.

He started giving you a silent treatment from then on and three races later, your silent strain came to a head, once again.

You were right behind him at the race, you P3 and him right ahead, but you had enough speed to outpace him soon, maybe a couple more laps and you’d equal him enough to try and overtake, you rode turn 2 smoothly, but as you two kept going, Fernando half a second in front of you, he suddenly hit the brakes, making you hit his rear.

“What the fuck? He brake tested me!” You shouted into the radio, reassessing, you gulped, noticing the damage to your front right tyre, “I’ve got damage!”

You called into the box to change your tyre, which fucked up your entire strategy, and made you go from the P3 to P9 in the grid. You managed to recover a little bit, but still ended P5 and out of the podium.

The rage was burning your chest as you went to the garage absolutely fuming. After all the podium proceedings and celebrations, you waited for Fernando, but he just walked past you without a care in the world. That made you even more pissed, and nobody managed to hold you when you tossed your helmet aside and marched up to him.

“That was really fucked up, Fernando!” You cut his path, making him stop short. Suddenly a bunch of people started gathering around you two, everyone ready for a show.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugged, but you knew him like the palm of your own hand, and you knew that condescending smile he showed you.

“You are a fucking coward if you have to brake test me just to get a podium,” you said, venomous, feeling your dad trying to pull you away and dissipate the commotion. But you weren’t done, “you’re pathetic, Fernando.”

“That’s enough!” Your dad said, pulling you back.

“Or maybe you’re just not good enough, have you thought about that?” Fernando said back, and you jumped on him, trying to get close enough for violence, but your dad held your waist, removing your feet from the ground and pulling you back.

“Man up, Fernando! You fucking asshole!” You shouted as your dad dragged you back into the garage.

Your dad placed you inside your room, grabbing water so you could drink and calm down. When he turned back, a sob broke from your throat, and you covered your mouth with a hand, trying to muffle the sounds of your crying. You shook as you cried again, your dad hugging you close and murmuring to you to let it all out.

You never thought your friendship with Fernando would ever come to this. You weren’t even sure of how the buildup happened that led to this.

“I don’t recognize him anymore, Papá. I don’t recognize my best friend anymore,” you shook your head, your voice breaking in hiccups. You pressed the plant of your hand to your eyes to try and stop the tears falling down, but it was useless.

“It’s ok, bebé. You’re both hotheaded, you need to talk calmly, try and fix it.”

You didn’t try to talk to him. He was wrong when he brake tested you, and if he couldn’t apologize for that, and for the hurtful words he said, then it was better to stay that way.

It only got worse as the season went on, the team tried to force you to give him advantages, but you refused many times, making the competition for the World Drivers Championship be between the two of you.

“We need to talk,” Flavio called you a day after another one of your wins, one that Fernando placed third, one that he didn’t even look at your face when you were up there.

“What happened?” You sat down in front of him by the table.

“You have to follow team orders. When we say you have to switch places with Fernando, you switch. You are deliberately going against orders, what is going on? You and Fernando are now in a cold war, the media caught up, the other drivers caught up too, why-”

“Am I the only one getting lectured?” You crossed your arms, seeing Flavio getting red in the face, angry.

“No. I want answers from both of you, and the way you’re being aggressive with each other, we believe it’s better to talk to you separately,” Flavio sighed, “What is happening? Before it was interesting, a beautiful rivalry, but now you way past that. You’re harming your own races and the team.”

“You talk to Fernando. He thinks because I won’t back down he needs to use every dirty trick in the book to damage my race. If he can’t handle competition like an adult, then he shouldn’t be here.”

Suddenly, the door opened, which made you jump. Fernando walked inside, fuming.

“So that’s what you think of me?” He raised his voice.

“Yes, you have been acting like a fucking kid,” you stood up.

“Me? You told the whole world our friendship means nothing to you! Have you any idea how that made me feel?!” Fernando got closer.

“Do you know how many times people disdain my career to pin it to someone else? To attribute my successes to you, or to Flavio, or even my dad?! You’ve got no idea what it's like being a woman here!”

“Power got to your head! You think you have to walk all over everyone to get what you want!”

“Power?! Literally every man here does that! You do that too, Fernando!”

“Funny you say that since you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me!” He shouted, pointing a finger to the ground.

“Fernando, stop.” Flavio muttered, coming closer to where you were face to face with Fernando.

You frowned, your anger completely dissipated and what was left was dread. And a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“What?” You hated how your voice was nothing more than a vulnerable whisper.

“Fernando, enough!” Flavio commanded out loud, gesturing with a hand.

“What do you mean, Fernando?!” You asked again, ignoring Flavio trying to pacify the fight.

“I was the one to ask Flavio to sponsor you. I asked him to take a shot and invest in your career!” Fernando’s words were poison and in his eyes you couldn’t see anything left of your former best friend.

“Is it true, Flavio?” You asked but your eyes never left Fernando’s.

“Yes, but if we calm down, we can talk like adults.”

You couldn’t even come up with words, speechless not only from what Fernando told you, but from the tone he used. It was like he had punched you straight in the gut. You couldn’t contain your tears anymore, the lump in your throat threatening to suffocate you. You wanted to jump on him, to push him to the ground and punch his face. You wanted to scream in his face and call him all the dirty names you could think of. You tried to hold onto the anger but your limbs were still, and the pain expanded inside you like wildfire. He had lied to you, in the biggest step of your career he had lied to you. Even when you pressed for answers, he lied straight to your face.

You stared into his eyes one last time. It was the first time he had seen you really cry. He had seen you teary eyed or even emotional before, but it was the first time he had seen you truly cry.

“You’re dead to me, Fernando.”

Was all you managed to rasp, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Flavio called your name as you walked away, but you never looked back and didn’t stop until you were inside your car, wailing like a baby. You sobbed all the way back to the hotel. You cried as you packed your bags, and tried but failed to contain your tears all the way back home, until you were at your parents’ door, sobbing on their sofa.

They didn’t ask anything until a couple of hours later when you managed to stop crying.

“I hate Fernando, so much, Mamá,” you whispered.

“Honey, don’t say that. Don’t do or say something you might regret later on,” She told you. You shook your head.

“I’m done with him. Done.” You bit back a sob, “he was so cruel, you had to see it.”

“He’s your best friend, dear. I’m sure it will be alright later on.”

“You should’ve seen the hate in his eyes, I don’t know him anymore. That’s not my Nano.”

So, your racing career was a lie. You didn’t make it because of your talent or your efforts. You were in Formula 1 because of Fernando. That was the cruelest thing someone ever said to you, not only because he was mean in the way he said it, but because with a few words he diminished your entire career. And what could you come up with to contest? He was right. You would never be there without him.

You wanted to give up so badly at that moment. You wanted to stay home and never come back, but you knew you couldn’t, your sense of duty was loud and you had to make it work. You had to prove that you deserved your spot in Formula 1, that all of Flavio’s forced investment on you was worth it.

You had to prove to Fernando you were more than a friend he pitied, more than a charity case he took so he could throw it at your face later.

It was one of the hardest things to realize and accept, the fact that he wasn’t your friend anymore. Maybe he never was. Despite all the disagreements the past couple of years, and all the beautiful history you had before the pinnacle of motorsport, maybe he never saw you as a friend. You thought you’d never treat a friend the way he treated you.

So you had to prove Fernando wrong.

NOTE: If you want to be tagged on part 2, please let me know in the comments!

[verstappenalty]

asking as a newbie max/f1 enjoyer, what races can i rewatch that show Max's skills/are entertaining/he wins? i know he was dominating the 2023 season and i plan on watching it already, but what else should i watch?

obviously he was showing his skills even during last gp, but it was painful when mclarens inserted themselves into Max's race and i want something where he is the it girl the whole time

hopefully it's okay to ask you of this :>

absolutely love this question thank you for asking!! I completely understand wanting to watch max HAPPY races, I'm simply never in the mood to watch other drivers succeed 🙄

this is a bit from memory so I will absolutely forget some banger races sorry (if people want to chime in their suggestions then please do so!!)

putting it under a readmore bc uhhh. it got long.

spain 2016: teen max holds off wdc kimi raikonnen on older tires for like 30 laps and becomes the sports youngest race winner. baby 🐐 showed off his tire management skills excellently here

brazil 2016: not a max win but he is absolutely the main character of the race. pits onto full wets with 16 laps to go, drops to the back of the grid and makes his way up. everyone and their mother thought this would be the best display of skill ever shown at a wet race in brazil. little did they know 😎 highly recommend watching the onboard on youtube of this - gp and max working together so beautifully is everything to me

2017 and 2018 I'm so sorry babes I'm skipping you guys to keep this list from being "every max verstappen race win ever" (that being said, 2018 austria is a race I enjoy rewatching)

austria 2019: max has anti-stall on the first lap and then HUNTS down the win and proves he is the hottest bitch to ever do it. truly just excellent racing from maxy

germany 2019: this is austria's flashy cousin. I just recommend this race bc it's so chaotic. everything happens all the time

brazil 2019: this is a max vs lewis race before we had THEEE max vs lewis races and wow it's so good. very cool strategy plays throughout the race too. honestly interlagos ALWAYS delivers

silverstone 70th anniversary 2020: this is the race where martin brundle famously says "thank god for max verstappen" bc he was the only one serving cunt against the mercedes that year. insanely overpowered car vs a max verstappen who refuses to give up (note there are 2 races in silverstone in 2020, this is the 2nd one)

2021 I could recommend basically every single race but I'm going to suggest just two:

sochi 2021: NOT a max win BUT he comes back from p20 to the podium and the last 5 laps of this race are absolute chaos. he is so superior in wet weather it is insane

COTA 2021: we know now that max was having vision issues at this point in the season and that COTA was particularly difficult for him. and he popped his whole pussy on track. he hunted lewis DOWN. the rest of the grid were nowhere, it was these two going toe to toe and FUCK it hits

okay this is getting very long im just going to choose one from each of the next years

hungary 2022: max starts p10, has a full 360 spin during the race, and STILL wins. very fun time

zandvoort 2023: this was the race where max was up for matching seb's 9-race win streak, and it was chaos from the very first lap. any other driver might have lost it. not maxy. not here.

brazil 2024: literally race of all time. my comfort race. I watch this whole thing in FULL more than I should probably admit to. max is a class above everyone else the entire time, and he is having FUN. bonus points for the happiest cooldown room and podium ever

and recently - japan 2025 was max demonstrating an absolutely flawless race. he didn't put a foot wrong the ENTIRE time. just a metronome of perfect laps.

okay this was um. VERY long but that is because max is MAX and keeps winning incredible races. there are definitely LOTS more but hopefully you enjoy watching these ones!!

ALSO for serotonin I would obvs recommend watching every race where max wins a championship but like. abu dhabi last 15mins onboard is the best thing in the world

[cheriladycl01]

Baby, can you call me back? I miss you... its so lonely in our mansion - Lewis Hamilton x Model! Reader

Plot: You are the 'IT GIRL' of celebrities right now. Dating older F1 driver cooks up a storm.

Warnings: Age Gap, Established relationship, Smut (Consisting off Unprotected Sex, Fingering, P In V etc.) Minors Do Not Interact 18+

You were currently waiting for Lewis to come home, it was the Monaco GP and you'd left early during his debrief as you were sporting a slight headache from all the excitement.

He knew you'd be there and he knew you were waiting for him. You were sort of a current century IT girl.

That happens when you are on the cover of vouge and in big blockbuster movies alongside modelling for Versace and other big brands that wanted your name.

You were all the talk in the media for the past few years, especially where you were dating Lewis Hamilton. He was 10 year older than you, but he treated you well. Even though you were 23 when you and Lewis started dating, people still seemed to treat you like you were made of glass. Yes, that was probably more to your high profile status and the fact that you're in the public eye.

Lewis treated you like an adult and you loved it, he wasn't in the relationship for publicity or just for a quick time. He had met you at exclusive party that you happened to be at as well as some of the 2018 F1 drivers.

Now in the middle of 2024 and Mercedes had a rocketship for a car, Lewis was on track for winning his 8th World Champion, you and Lewis had been together for 7 years now and what an interesting 7 years it had been. You'd been there for him winning 3 of his championships, seeing him get robbed of his 8th and then have a shit car for the next two seasons while Red Bull seem to be in a horrible sort of domination.

He'd won in Monaco today sharing a Podium with Lando Norris, who was actually his biggest competition this year. Mclaren came out on top, right now it was Mercedes Mclaren and Ferrari dancing around each other and then Red Bull who focused on their 2025 car too early and didn't do enough work with the 2024 car.

The door to the home opens and in walks your beautiful husband.

"How's my race winner" you smile at him, walking over to him slowly. He hangs the keys up to his car on the hook before his hands wrap around your waist pulling you into a hug. He nuzzles his face into your neck, his arms travelling up to stroke your soft hair, running down to the side of your face to hold your face steadily in his hand.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you all day!" he offers, pushing your hair back behind your ear before leaning in, kissing you softly.

"You were thinking about me when you were racing?" you ask with a smirk, stepping closer into him so your arms are able to hold his upper arms, helping you lean up to place a soft, yet sensual kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"I'm always thinking about you baby" he mumbles looking you up and down.

"Well, I think my World Champion deserves a reward!" you smile, grinning at him.

"Mmmmm what kind of reward, I can think of 20 things I'd settle for right now" he admits biting his lip.

"Well, I don't know about you but your fav vegan dish is in the oven. I can run you a nice hot bath and give you a massage, or we can take Rossi on a walk, or we can watch a movie and cuddle.." you say leaning closer into him.

"Hmmmmm, that all sounds very good. But first i want you!" he says pulling into you. He pulls you up so your legs are wrapped around his waist and your arms around around the back of his head. He holds you up while pulling you into a kiss.

He walks you into the bedroom and places you down on the bed, making you bounce into the plush duvet and cushions. You lean up and you elbows moving back a little while Lewis crawls on top of you.

"Such a pretty baby!" he says, as he reaches round the back to unzip the black silk dress you were wearing. He tugs it down, throwing it onto the bedroom floor, a groan coming from him as he sees the matching black set that was on underneath.

He couldn't help but think that you'd been looking that delectable all day, and it didn't help and wouldn't help any future thoughts of what you wore on race days.

"God, Y/N!"

"Lew, come on" you groan, as his hands run up and down the curves of your body. Eventually his fingers work their way around your underwear, while his other hand goes behind you arching back to undo your bra. He skillfully undid it with the one hand while his other focused on your clit.

Your thighs squeezed together in anticipation as you feel his finger on your clit speed up. A gasp comes from you and your hand reaches down to hold his wrist.

"Lewis, i need you please!" you groan as his mouth encases around your left nipple and starting to suck and bite at it leaving hickies along the curve of your breast.

You feel movement on the bed, you look down to see him grinding against the mattress.

"Come here..." you moan and he crawls up the bed. His hand doesn't leave, going the step further and pushing one finger in. You reach down palming him through his trousers.

"Fuck baby, just like that" he groans adding another finger while leaning into your neck and kissing up and along it.

"Just take those pants off" you moan, looking up at him. He shakes his head, adding a third finger going faster.

"You gotta cum for first darling" he breathes out, you gasp watching him closely.

Lewis always put your pleasure first, that was one of the highlights of your relationship is that he always wanted you happy and content, as he would say that it made him happy and content.

He lived by the happy wife happy life memo religiously.

You feel that familiar coil built up and with the way you start moving Lewis speeds up knowing that your close.

"Lewis, Lewis fuck" you gasp as that sensation is released. You breathing slows as you come down.

"Okay, my turn" you say sitting up on your knees, squishing your thighs together.

"I can't wait, for that baby. Gotta be in you now!" he whimpers. He pulls you up so that your against the headboard, he lays you down before positioning himself above you.

He sinks all the way in, the both of you moaning and groaning as you feel every inch of him inside of you. Each ridge, every edge you can feel against your walls as you push further against him to get him deeper. He bottoms out with a sigh of happiness partially collapsing against you.

"I love you Lew, and im so thankful I'm yours" you admit with a gasp as he starts moving back and forth, the thrusts making lewd noises as he grips your hips.

"Say it again!" he exclaims looking at you in the eyes, one of his hands moving from your hip up to your cheek.

"I'm yours Lew, all yours!" you moan arching up into him and clenching.

"I love you so much darling. Fuck" he moans, nipping and biting against your collarbone as he starts to thrust quicker into you. Your own grip tightens on him as that same feeling from earlier resurfaces but more violent.

Your eyes screw shut, the moans coming from you mouth is like music into Lewis' ears. He wishes he could have it as his ringtone, or playing to him before a race. Even during a race, that for sure would make him finish a race quicker knowing he could see you quicker and stuff you full.

"Baby I'm gonna cum" he groans right into your ear making you twitch and attempt to thrust up into him. He holds you still putting pressure on your stomach making you gasp loudly and try to sit up.

"Cum baby, cum in me" you cry, tears start to stream down your face.

"Oh fuck baby" you cry and clench hard round him as he hits that spongey spot that just feels so good. You release with a whine and head thrown back, while Lewis follows helping you both ride out your high.

He collapses on top of you staying sunk inside of you. He kisses you, whispering stuff to you about what he loves, making little plaits in your hair as he goes.

Maybe waiting for Lewis in your mansion wasn't so bad after all.

A/N: This is my first smut on this account, so it will get better when i know what i feel comfortable putting out there!

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Could you please write something with Lewis when you’re Ayrtons Senna daughter and didn’t have much to do with F1 you’re whole live you’re only connection being Alain. When Alain one day informed you that Lewis Hamilton wanted to get in contact with you you didn’t know what too think of it but in the end you’re curiousty won and after you reached out to him you soon realized that he was an absolute sweetheart and he soon became one of you’re closest friends you remember sitting at the balcony of you’re apartment with you’re feet on you’re legs being drunk and confessing to him that you don’t remember you’re parents you’re mother died when you where only a few months old from an aneurysm only 24 all you have of her is the story’s you’re aunt and Alain told you how heartbroken Ayrton was how he won the race the day after he got informed of her death and stood on the podium with tears in his eyes reaching his hand up as far in the sky as possible looking up crying and Lewis told you that he remembers the moment when he saw it on the tv as an little kid thinking that he was thanking god to help him win. Lewis told you when he decided to leave Mercedes how Toto reacted when he told him and how his fairytale partnership with Mercedes turned into an nightmare you dont know what rode you when you proposed to go to the Ferrari presentation with him probably the alcohol in you’re blood and the idea of how everyone in the F1 circus would react if the most successful driver of all time turned up with Ayrton Sennas daughter on his arm.❤️

Everything I’ve ever wanted

hii lovies I am so sorry for being mia and for how long this took but I hope you enjoy it!!!

You never belonged to Formula 1.

Not really.

Not the way your father did not the way the world said you should have.

For as long as you could remember, the sport was more myth than memory. A blurred figure in flame-retardant overalls. A helmet. The thunder of an engine you never heard in person. You were born into a story you didn’t choose, one that ended before it ever truly began for you.

Your mother died when you were a baby a cerebral aneurysm, they told you. Twenty-four. Gone in hours.

Your father drove the next day.

Alain told you that he won. That he stood on the podium with tears in his eyes, reaching a hand to the sky like he could touch her. The world thought he was thanking God. But he wasn’t.

He was saying goodbye.

You never met him again after that. He died months later at Imola.

And the myth was sealed.

All your life, you were “his daughter.”

The girl whose name echoed in pit lanes and paddocks despite never setting foot in one. A legacy with no say in how it was carried. Your childhood was quiet, mostly thanks to Alain…Alain Prost, your father’s onetime rival and eventual friend. He made sure you were protected. Raised with dignity, not exposure. No circus. No cameras. No racing.

He was the only one who ever told you stories about the man, not the myth.

How your father smiled. How he hated the cold. How soft his voice was when he held you.

You learned to live in silence.

Until one day, Alain called.

“Lewis Hamilton wants to speak with you.”

You paused. “The driver?”

“Yes. He’s… serious about it. Very respectful. You don’t have to. But I thought you should know.”

At first, you didn’t know what to think. Lewis Hamilton was the modern legend. Seven-time World Champion. The man who tied your father’s records and then surpassed them.

Why would he want to speak to you?

You let it sit for weeks. But your curiosity won.

And that’s how it began.

He wasn’t what you expected.

When you finally reached out, Lewis replied within the hour. His tone was gentle, not performative. Not reverent. He wasn’t trying to connect with “Senna’s daughter.”

He wanted to connect with you.

“I’ve carried a lot of your father in my career,” he wrote.

“But I realize I never asked what that’s like for you. If it’s okay, I’d like to know you not for the story, but for the person.”

It disarmed you.

So you talked. Slowly.

And over time, you stopped feeling like a relic of your father’s past.

Lewis was patient, always. He never pushed. Never used your name for prestige. He listened really listened even when you had nothing to say. You’d speak late into the night sometimes. About music. The ocean. The emptiness fame brings.

He told you what it was like growing up the only Black kid in the paddock. The pressure. The loneliness. The racism.

You told him what it felt like to grow up the child of ghosts.

One night, you were drunk on your balcony, curled up with your knees tucked under you, watching the city below.

“I don’t remember them,” you murmured. “Not my mum. Not him.”

He was quiet on the other end of the call.

You went on. “All I have are stories. Alain told me… after she died, he drove like he was on fire. Won the race. Stood on the podium and reached up to the sky.” Your voice cracked. “I used to think maybe he was reaching for her. But really, I think he just wanted out.”

Lewis didn’t speak right away.

When he did, his voice was softer than ever.

“I remember that day,” he said. “I saw it on TV. I was a kid. I thought he was thanking God for the win. But maybe… maybe he was asking why.”

You closed your eyes, tears spilling quietly.

“I just wish I knew them like the world did,” you whispered. “Or like… they knew me.”

Your connection with Lewis deepened after that. There was no awkwardness. Just ease. Familiarity.

You hugged him like you’d known him your whole life.

And yet, despite the warmth, you could always sense something under the surface with him something unraveling.

Eventually, it came out.

He left Mercedes.

And the story was nothing like the media painted.

“They didn’t even look at me when I walked out,” he said one night, jaw clenched. “I gave them everything. Took their name to the top of the world. And when it stopped being perfect when I started asking questions I became a liability.”

You listened as he told you how the team changed.

The meetings where he was excluded.

The technical decisions made without his input.

The new golden boy groomed behind closed doors.

The subtle racism dressed up as professionalism.

The quiet betrayal of men he once trusted like family.

“It stopped being about racing,” he said bitterly. “It became about protecting an image. And I didn’t fit it anymore.”

You reached for his hand, gripping it tight.

“You were everything to them,” you said. “And they treated you like you were disposable.”

He looked at you then, his eyes glassy. “So did the world.”

That night, you did something impulsive.

Maybe it was the wine. Maybe the weight of your shared grief.

But you turned to him and said:

“Come to the Ferrari launch with me.”

He blinked. “What?”

You laughed. “Can you imagine the chaos? You in red. Me on your arm. The ghost of Ayrton Senna walking through Maranello.”

It was reckless. Beautifully so.

And when the day came, you did it.

You wore your mother’s earrings. Lewis wore black and red. And the cameras lost their minds when you walked in together him, the fallen king. You, the child of the original icon.

It was more than spectacle. It was a statement.

The child of the man the sport lost too soon.

And the man the sport betrayed too late.

Together. Unapologetic.

After the launch, you returned to your apartment.

The world outside was still spinning but in here, everything was quiet.

You poured drinks. Sat on the balcony again, legs tucked under you.

And you broke.

“I hated the funeral,” you said, voice shaking. “Everyone crying for a man they never knew. The photographers. The headlines. I stood there with Alain. I was five. And I didn’t understand why everyone else got him except me.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks.

“I never got to call anyone mum. I never got to feel what it was like to be held by a father who didn’t have one foot in death every race. I lived my whole life in the shadow of something I never even touched.”

Lewis moved beside you. Held you gently.

“I’m so tired,” you whispered. “Of being the reminder. The orphan. The legacy.”

And then came his voice low, unwavering.

“You’re not a legacy. You’re you. And I see you.”

You looked at him, breaking entirely.

“Why did you want to meet me, Lewis?”

He held your gaze. “Because you were the only person who’d understand what it feels like to be idolized and invisible at the same time.”

The silence that followed was everything.

And in that moment broken and held, grieving and seen something shifted.

You weren’t just Ayrton Senna’s daughter.

And he wasn’t just Lewis Hamilton.

You were two souls the world had taken from.

And in each other, you were beginning to find what it never gave you back.

Years later

You stood at your father’s grave alone for the first time in years.

This time, with peace.

Not because the grief was gone but because you were no longer carrying it alone.

Lewis stood behind you, a hand on your shoulder.

You’d walked through fire together.

Through betrayal, loss, and rebirth.

You knew your father now not through stats or stories but through how Lewis saw you.

Through every quiet moment, every tear wiped away, every time he reminded you that you were more than a name.

And in him, you had something even your father never had: A love that stayed.

[81folklore]

i can do it with a broken heart - f1 grid

parings: gn!driver!reader x platonic!f1!grid x ex!jacob elordi

summary: after yn and their ex break up, they carry on as best they can and no one had any idea how bad they were struggling

type: social media au (smau)

notes: george is in this but he does not drive for mercedes, yn does. i also used a mixture of fem and masc pictures because i couldnt decide and thought you could just imagine whatever you wish!!

notes 2: probably the longest fic ive done so far but im pretty proud of it. the time stamps above each section are semi important so i would keep an eye on them!! also i know ive been gone for so long but i do not promise ill be back. alsoooo i know i only included a bit of the grid but i kept getting distracted and then couldn’t figure out how to include everyone!!

masterlist

march 2024

twitter

charles oh my god i cant believe my cat is finally the pfp

i have been waiting for YEARS

max yes well you better enjoy it because it’ll change soon and you’ll be back to waiting again.

lando jesus max do you have to use punctuation???

alex be glad he doesnt use captials

oscar one thing at a time lando, we dont want to scare him

max ???

lando anyway

yn mate you ok?

yourname im fine? ur scaring me you never ask how i am

lando yeah but usually your not single

lewis oh no! you and jacob split?

yourname yeah, wasnt working anymore

charles ah im sorry, that must suck😣

yourname i mean it does but its been coming for a long time so its not surprising

fernando hello! yn what is wrong? you always use emotes!

yourname theyre emojis nando, and im fine just a bit lost

fernando do not worry, i will come and find you!

yourname no, i dont mean literally just..we were together for so long i dont really know what to do now you know?

lando i get it, you wanna play tarkov with me???

yourname cheers ill get on now

george let us know if you need anything!

may 2024

yourusername

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton and 814,583 others

p✌️ was just what we needed this weekend!

thank you to everyone who came out and supported myself and the team and huge thank you to the team for working so hard all weekend⭐️

view comments

mercedesamgf1 mega job this weekend yn👊 *liked by author*

landonorris nice to share the podium with you mate

yourusername same time next race?

user33 loved seeing you back on the podium

user2 absolutely smashing it this season

user21 more podiums please🤲 *liked by author*

user3 fourth podium of the year first p✌️*liked by author*

twitter

*pretend it says after march i changed dates around last min*

august 2024

yourusername

liked by lukehemmings, charles_leclerc and 1,124,642 others

did some reading, painting and writing

baked some good food and spent time with some good people, also got a cat…not bad for summer break☀️

view comments

user66 AHHHHHH

yourusername ahhhhhhh

user26 cats name plsplspls

yourusername norman🐱

lukehemmings nice music👍

yourusername woah arent you the guy who wrote mum?!

mercedesamgf1 ready to see you back on the podium

yourusername always!!!!

user74 have you had funnnn??

yourusername yesss!! ive been doing lots of things i enjoy, basically treating every day as my birthday😋

twitter

*was supposed to write them instead of her sorry!! was doing two stories at once and kept getting mixed up😅*

october 2024

yourusername

liked by mercedesamgf1, gracieabrams and 1,291,638 others

p☝️ for the 3rd time this season, very very pleased

huuuuuge thank you to the team, every single one of you who worked tirelessly over the summer break and every moment since then, these have been for you⭐️

view comments

user55 what a good season to be a yn fan *liked by author*

user6 these races have been incredible to watch, so proud

yourusername ⭐️⭐️

gracieabrams woop woop!!!!

yourusername 😝😝

user2 gracie??

user41 why have we not had any personal photo dumps yet😕😕

user88 right we miss seeing you yn!!

yourusername sorry guys😣ive been suuuper busy working on something i just honestly forgot

user41 NEW PROJECT?? WHEN?? (also pls dont feel bad we love u)

yourusername soon!! (and i love u guys too)

twitter

november 2024

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, lewishamilton and 3,689,921 others

tagged: taylorswift

i cannot believe i get to say this, but my new friend taylor just released a new album and i was able to write a song on the album

im honestly not sure how this came about but i had so much fun writing this and expressing all my thoughts and feelings in a way ive never done before

i poured my life and soul into this song and im so glad taylor is the one who is singing it and really bought it to life

send some love to my friend and go and stream THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT (most importantly i can do it with a broken heart😉)

comments have been limited

taylorswift thank you for trusting me with this song, so much love🤍

yourusername NO THANK YOU!!! i will be forever grateful⭐️⭐️

twitter

yourusername added to their story

seen by taylorswift, lewishamilton and 729,282 others

charles i feel completely betrayed yn

fernando oh no😟! what did yn do?

charles THEY DIDNT TELL ME THEY WERE WRITING A SONG??

AND WITH TAYLOR SWIFT HOW COULD YOU☹️☹️

yourname sorry charles, surprise?!

charles ill forgive you because its a good song

yourname thank you my life just got infinitely better!

yuki very good song yn! has been on repeat☺️

yourname thanks yuki, glad you like it!!

lando I LOVE IT TOO

but seriously are you ok?!

yourname yeahhh im better now

was just a lot to navigate

lewis glad you found an outlet! but remember you can always talk to any of us

yourname i know and i appreciate it, i really do

alex yn was that twitter thread right?

yourname mate youre going to have to elaborate

alex user56tweetlink

yourname oh pretty much yeah

some things were changed with taylor but not much

fernando just listened to the song yn! very nice👍well done!

yourname thank uu

max good song yn!

now

lando can you please tell me what you meant on your twitch stream!

oscar max is kind of scary

max dont make me talk about that interview next oscar!

[writerseclipse1]

lucky charm [max v.]

summary: max wins at the us grand prix (2021), and he can't help but insist you were his lucky charm.

warnings: making out, fluff.

word count: 0.7k

“…for the first time, on us soil, max verstappen wins the us grand prix!” cheers erupted from the fans and the redbull crew. you heard your father whoop, fisting the air in celebration.

all you could do was nod proudly, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed in front of your chest. you pushed yourself off of the wall, high fiving the crew and congratulating them on their amazing job during the race.

you all exited the pits a few minutes later, grouping up below the rostrum. checo waved to all the fans and took his place on the third podium step.

next up was lewis who, despite the rivalry between the two teams, he was your friend as well. he was one of the people who taught you how to drive a formula 1 car and actually be good at it.

and last, but certainly not the least to step onto the rostrum was max. you smirked, clapping along to the people beside you. he punched the air, grinning widely as he scanned the crowd, spotting you and winking discreetly. you only rolled your eyes and shook your head but clapped for him nonetheless.

he received his trophy from the one and only shaquille o’neal, the height gap between them despite max’s position on the top podium, making you snort. not long after their presentation of trophies, they started to drink and spray their champagne on each other, soaking their suits and no doubt their fireproofs.

after all the celebrations and the picture taking that led you to change your shirt, it was time for the interviews. max left for the interviews and you went to the red bull building, assessing the information gotten during the race, seeing what you needed to work on even if max drove without error. your typing on the keyboard of your father’s computer and the clicking of the mouse echoed in the room. 

“so this is where you’ve been,” max mused, leaning against the doorframe of your dad’s office. you ignored him with a smirk on your face. you kept checking the data, not even sparing him a glance. you heard his footsteps get closer but you paid it no mind, feeling his arms slither around your waist.

“don’t ignore me, schatje,” you felt his breath on your neck, nudging your neck with his nose. “appreciate me.”

“i swear, verstappen, if my father sees you here,” you whispered, abandoning your work and turning in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck regardless of your recent words. “you’re gonna get fired, probably die too.”

“i’ll take my chances,” he mumbled, tilting his head and his eyes darting to your lips. “besides, if this makes us official, even if i die in the hands of my boss right after, it would be worth it.”

you chuckle, his lips gently pressing themselves on your own. his mouth was gentle, taking his time with you, his hands slowly roaming your waist and pushing you back into the desk. your hands took his cap off, one hand holding onto it while the other combed his locks.

you detached your lips from his, chuckling when you saw his cheeks all red. you adjusted the cap in your hands, placing it on your own head and he bit his lip, fixing your hair.

“keep it. ‘looks better on you.” he complimented, tilting your head up so he could steal another kiss. you laughed, massaging his cheek as he leaned into your touch.

“you ever notice that whenever you attend my races, i win,” he spoke up, making you hum. “and if you weren’t here, i lose. badly, might i add.”

“huh,” you comment, raising your eyebrows. “you’re right. i wasn’t in silverstone but i was there in italy, i wasn’t in azerbaijan, but i was in france. now, i wasn’t in monza, but i was here. cool.” you add, making him throw his head back, laughing.

“guess you could say that you are my lucky charm, liefje.” he suggested and you agreed, nodding your head. you two were too focused on each other that you didn’t notice a third party wander into the room.

“what the fuck is this?”

you froze and max gulped, his gaze moving to the door, his eyes widening.

“oh shit.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ a/n: fic look familiar? this is an old work from my old account @/theonly1outof-a-billion!

[wonhaz]

what are we after the grand prix? - l.hs

pairing : f1driver!heeseung x fem!reader genre : mercedes driver heeseung, best friends au, angst, fluff, unrequited love wc : 2.2k warnings : kissing, eating, speeding (cars), skinship synopsis : heeseung invites you to one of his races, determined to win and impress you. but when you confront him and ask him what the two of you are, he confesses his love for you. will you return his feelings? he'll have to wait for your answer after the grand prix. a/n : first part of the series! hope u guys like it~ heeseung gives off major mercedes vibes, i feel like he would be chill like lewis hamilton maybe? not completely sure if i'm happy with this one but here you go! next parts coming soon! SERIES MASTERLIST

heeseung was confusing, more confusing than all those buttons on his steering wheel.

sure, he was your best friend, but sometimes it felt like he was more.

friends don't hug each other the way heeseung hugs you before a race, friends don't wink the way heeseung does at you before he puts on his helmet, friends don't look at each other the way heeseung does at you as he stands on the podium. but heeseung does it anyway, and it leaves you confused.

"you busy next weekend?" heeseung asks as you both sit on the couch of your apartment. "no, why?" you reply, raising an eyebrow, "i was wondering if you wanted to come to singapore with me to watch the grand prix, specifically to watch me." he says, emphasizing the word 'me'. you pretend to think about it taking the opportunity to annoy him.

"will sunghoon be there?" you ask, wiggling your eyebrows imitating a lovestruck fan. heeseung rolls his eyes, "come on (name), i'm way better than that red bull driver, park. if you come i'll beat him for sure." he says with confidence. "alright, i'll come. but how am i getting there exactly?" you question, "don't worry about it babe, just be outside your apartment on thursday at 9am and i'll pick you up."

heeseung was confusing, like how he called you 'babe' just now, friends don't call each other that.

~

it's thursday. you haven't seen heeseung all week, he was probably busy with training and pre-race preparations. all he sent you was a text reminding you to be ready at the agreed time. you glance down at your watch, '8:55' the people passing by on the sidewalk pay little to no attention to you.

that is, until heeseung pulls up in front of you in his black mercedes benz. you have to stop your jaw from dropping at his entrance, now everyones looking at you, how can this get more embarassing? and just as you think that, heeseung rolls down the window, "come on! get in already, we're gonna miss the flight!"

you wince and quickly throw your suitcase in the trunk and hop in the passenger seat before turning towards him. "heeseung! what was that for?!" he tilts his head to the side, "what was what for?"

"that!" you say exasperated, "picking me up in the flashiest car possible and then drawing more attention by rolling down your window!" heeseung just shrugs and now you're really in shock, "we have a flight to catch." is all he says as the car starts zooming through the streets. "don't speed! we're going too fast!" you say as you're gripping onto any handle you can find. "you're saying that to me?" heeseung replies with a laugh. "you're telling a race car driver not to speed? you're real funny (name)."

you arrive at the airport and follow heeseung to your gate. he finds his team and introduces them to you, his team principal smiles and shakes your hand, "nice to finally meet you, (name). you're heeseung's girlfriend right? he does talk about you quite a lot."

you're taken aback, heeseung talks about you a lot? "oh, he does? i'm not his girlfriend though." you say with an awkward laugh. "oh, you're not? sorry i assumed. forget i said that." and you nod.

you board the plane and take a seat next to heeseung. your seat is extremely nice, you play with the buttons to adjust your seat and browse through the different movies on the tv. heeseung sees you and laughs, "first time in first class?" he asks. "it is obvious?" you say with a sheepish grin, "very, i should take you with me to races more often then." heeseung says and leans back. do friends say that? you didn't know, but you do know that a friend wouldn't make you blush like how you are now.

~

after the flight, all you can think of is heeseung. he was your best friend, and you were here to support him, but he made you feel like you were more than just his best friend.

the words from his team principal still lingered in your mind, you didn't know what to think of it. heeseung talks about you a lot? you were flattered, you feel the blush creeping onto your cheeks again just thinking about it.

a knock on your hotel door snaps you out of your trance. you already knew who it was. "come in", and there he is in all his glory. the very man that can't seem to leave your mind.

"wanna go get dinner?" he asks and you give him a small nod, getting up from the bed. halfway through your journey to the lobby, you realize it's just the two of you. "hee, what about the rest of your team?" you ask. "they went out together, i told them i wanted to take you to dinner." "oh.." is all you can get out, and you stay silent for the rest of the walk.

you're taken aback when heeseung puts his arm around your shoulder as you walk to a nearby restaurant. you give him a confused look, "what's wrong? i thought you were cold?". you were cold, you just didn't want to admit it, but heeseung knew you too well.

heeseung leads you inside a nice looking restaurant, one look at the menu has your jaw dropping at the prices. "pick whatever you want, i'll pay." he reassures you with a smile after seeing your expression.

the dinner starts in silence until heeseung breaks it. "how are you so far? i hope the hotel is comfortable enough." you're in shock, the hotel is more than comfortable, it's luxurious. you nod and tell him about how 'fancy' everything is.

as heeseung eats, you can't take your eyes off him. he feels your gaze on him and looks up smiling. "am i that good-looking you can't focus on your food?" he says with a laugh. here comes the blush again, and you shake your head defensively.

heeseung was making you look at him differently now. you don't think you and heeseung are just friends anymore.

~

heeseung walks you to your room, it's getting late and he has practice tomorrow. before you walk in your room, you turn to face him.

you had to know.

"heeseung-" you start, he only hums in reply.

"what are we?"

heeseung is caught off guard by your question but keeps his calm facade.

"what do you want us to be?" he asks and now it's your turn to be speechless.

"i-i don't know..." you admit, slightly embarrassed you had even brought up the topic.

"(name)-" heeseung starts, he pauses for a while, trying to find the right words.

"(name), i've liked you for a long time, not as friends but as something more. you're like the gas that fills me with joy, even when i've just had a bad race. you make me feel all these things that i didn't even know i could feel. all i know is that i'm happy when i'm with you."

you open your mouth to speak but nothing seems to come out.

"i don't expect you to give me your answer now. but please, let me know after the grand prix this sunday. take your time for the next few days, i want a sincere answer, even if it may hurt me, i'm ready to face it."

you're at a loss for words, the passion and love in heeseung's voice tells you that he's kept this to himself for so long. you give him a small nod and motions for you to get going before it gets too late.

just as you're about to close your hotel door, you hear his voice call your name again.

"(name), don't worry about coming to watch practice and qualifying, use it to rest or go around the city. i just want you to be there for the grand prix."

you promise to be there and give him a small smile before finally closing your door.

~ it's saturday, the grand prix.

you have your answer and you're sure of it, and most of all, you're ready to tell heeseung after the race. heeseung had left before you, not wanting you to get shaken up from all the reporters and fans watching him. you made sure to text him a simple 'good luck!' message to which he reacted with '🤍'. making your way down to the paddock, you spot his team principal and he greets you pulling up a chair for you. you look around, eyes searching for heeseung. "he's at an interview." his team principal says, as if he just read your mind. you just mouth an "oh." and take a look at the things around you, being careful not to touch anything. you see heeseung's car, with a big number "1" on it, and as if on cue, he walks in running his fingers through his hair. you couldn't help but stare, oh you were doomed.

heeseung sees you and grins from ear to ear, he looks you up and down, admiring your outfit, clad in his team colors. "heeseung-" you start and his intense stare into your eyes make you want to melt. "i have my answer, but i'll tell you after the race." and he nods, smile never leaving his lips. "i'll win for you." he says as he zips up his race suit and climbs into his car, giving you a little wink before he drives off to the starting grid.

heeseung drives into the 2nd grid position, eyeing the red bull beside him. park sunghoon hears the car pull up next to him and decides to test heeseung's patience. "hey, heeseung!" sunghoon shouts. earning a glare from him. "what do you want sunghoon." heeseung roles his eyes. "ready to lose today?" "hell no, i got a girl in the paddock to impress", heeseung says, diverting his attention to the lights in front of them.

heeseung is determined to win, determined to win for you. the race goes by fast and you had to admit, you didn't really understand how all of these racing things worked. but you did know one thing, and it's that heeseung was going to do anything to win. halfway through the race, heeseung pits and the crew immediately rushes around his car. within a few seconds, heeseung and his fresh set of tires are ready to go. but before he zooms off, he gives you a little wink and you feel the tips of your ears turning red. 55/57 LAPS things were getting heated down at the track, sunghoon and heeseung racing as if their lives depended on it. heeseung was practically gritting his teeth, he just needed to overtake sunghoon, to cross that finish line first, to win for you. during the last turn, heeseung takes his chance and cuts in front of sunghoon. heeseung's whole team stands up in anticipation and shouting at the screen in front of them. the team cheers as heeseung zooms past the checkered flag and commentators going crazy. heeseung gets out of his car, and raises his arms towards the crowd as they cheer. but now, he's more nervous than he was at the beginning of the race, he's nervous to hear your answer. as heeseung walks back to his team, sunghoon walks over to him and pats his back. "go get that girl." he says, and smiles. heeseung smiles and gives sunghoon a small nod. you stand in front of the team garage, heeseung walking towards you, his eyes never breaking eye contact. this was it, it was time to give your answer. "(name).." heeseung starts and takes a deep breath "remember that whatever your answer is, i love you, and i respect your decision." you stare into his eyes with your loving ones. lunging towards him and engulfing him in an embrace. he doesn't say anything, but you can feel his heartbeat as he savors your embrace. you're the first one to pull away but your arms never leave their position wrapped around him. 'heeseung, i love you too, so so much." and that's all it takes for him to pull you into a kiss, a kiss of longing, and impatience. it may have taken a while, but heeseung thinks it's worth the wait. sunghoon watches from his garage and he smiles at the new couple, his team principal makes his way to stand beside him and looks at what sunghoon is looking at. "you could've won, why didn't you defend your position?" his team principal says, furrowing his eyebrows. "come on man, had to let they guy win. but now i think he's won twice, he's won the race and that girl's heart." heeseung makes his way up the podium when they announce his name. his team below him is smiling up at him, but the only eyes he looks for are yours. he gives you a little wink and you blush. heeseung usually likes to go fast. but with you, he wished time slowed down a little more.

please reblog, it really helps!

[angelnthsnow]

The Party & The After Party

pairing: toto wolff x f!driver!reader

summary: after winning your first formula one race in your first year in the category, you don't think the day can get any better. fortunately, your boss has other plans for the night.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: age gap? it's never mentioned but it's there obvi, boss x employee, use of y/n, cursing.

author's note: i must say my friends have gotten me into formula one, but it's kinda hard paying attention to the cars when this man exists. i wrote this nonstop in the middle of the night, it's shorter than usual but i couldn't get the idea out of my head, so enjoy! i promise i'll post smth nfl related soon lol k bye!!

In your first year as the first female F1 driver, you had done the impossible. Standing on the 1st place of the Monaco Grand Prix podium, adrenaline pumping through your veins, you looked down at everyone who had ever doubted you. Years of resisting attacks, sexist remarks and the constant need to prove yourself, you felt like you could finally breathe. By your side, stood two of the greatest drivers the sport had ever seen, Lewis Hamilton, your teammate, in P2, and Max Verstappen, in P3.

Your eyes wandered through the vast crowd that chanted your name from below, searching for the man who had made it all possible, your boss, Torger Wolff, the first person who took you seriously. Being a woman with hopes of getting into Formula One was exhaustingly hard, but everything started to change when you won the F3 Championship, a few years ago.

Paul, your teammate at the time, had told you that a certain team principal would come to the race that day, and although you kept telling yourself to not get your hopes up, every single attempt to do so went downhill when you saw the Mercedes team principal walking through the paddock like he owned the place.

To you, Mercedes was everything. Besides being one of the most modern teams, you also realized soon enough that Toto was probably the most open-minded out of all the other TPs on the grid. It was sad, of course, having such a little percentage of people who would be happy to see a woman in a position that was so dominated by men, but still, it lit up a flame in your chest, a string of hope you clung onto whenever you felt like giving up your dream.

That day, with him on the bleachers as you drove fearlessly around Spa-Francorchamps, you won the F3 championship, putting you on a watchlist of drivers that could get into F2.

Ever since that day, the austrian had kept an eye on you.

He saw how fiercely you fought to have a place, to have a voice and to be heard in a space ever so dominated by the opposite sex, and it didn't scare him, not one bit, he admired it. When you stood on that podium earlier, he didn't even bother hiding a smile, taking pictures and videos and chanting your name with the rest of the team as Lewis and Max sprayed the ridiculously expensive champagne on your back as you laughed.

That's why today, hours after winning your first ever F1 race on your first year in the category, he still couldn't get off the high he was on. He had finally gotten the confirmation he so desperately needed, not because he didn't believe you could do it, but because he was eager to prove everyone else wrong, to rip the smugness out of every single man who told you you didn't belong there.

At least that's what he had told you earlier through the radio before the lights went out, prove them wrong. He just didn't know you fought to reprimand a sob as you tried to concentrate in the lights that stood just above the Albert 1st Boulevard.

Now, Toto's eyes scanned every single corner of Jimmy'z searching for you, only to find you on the dance floor, pornstar martini in hand as you swayed to the beats of Empire of The Sun's We Are The People.

You had a smile on your face that could lit up a whole room, and he couldn't be prouder. Soon enough, your eyes met his and you chuckled, making a peace sign to point at your eyes and then at his as the line got lost in your eyes blasted through the club's speakers.

Even at distance, you could see him rolling his eyes and chuckling at your playful gesture, but still, he came closer, until the only thing in his field of vision was the visibly drunk version of you.

"You look happy." he leans down and forward to yell in your ear, making himself heard even if though the loud music made it hard to.

You squirm at the proximity, but brush it off by taking another sip of your drink. "I'm on top of the world, Toto. I don't think I've ever been happier." You yell back and he resists the urge to fight back a smile, presenting you with his pearly whites.

As one of the neon lights hit your face, he's forced to take in all of you. The version of you you'd put up whenever he'd tell you he had an important meeting he needed you to attend, or whenever you were needed to put up a show, like today.

You wore a black strapless dress, the one you'd seen a few weeks prior to the Grand Prix at Elie Saab's display window while you were on your daily night walk through Monaco. It was mesmerizing, with a shimmery type of fabric that would definitely make sparks fly if a bright light shined over it. You had thought of buying it, for days, really, but decided against it because party dresses were never a much needed piece of clothing in your wardrobe. Well, that until you told Lewis about the dress, and when you arrived at your apartment a few hours after the race, there it was, on a hanger hanging on the curtain rods.

As much as your looks prevented Toto from thinking about anything else, he couldn't help but notice how huge your pupils were, so big that it felt like your iris' were long gone. That and the fact that your sclera had shifted from white to a more reddish color.

He shifted on his feet, unaware of how to proceed. Were you.. high? Was that even a thing between sportspersons? Deciding on it being a matter that shouldn't be handled in front of the city's most congested place as of today, he mutters a "come with me" in your ear, putting a hand on your lower back as he guided you away from the crowd.

When he finally stops, you find yourself in a more private, smaller room with a few sofas and armchairs. He then proceeds to ask you "You've taken something. What is it?"

You laugh at his sudden concern. The answer was clearly a big red yes written in all caps, but part of you couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed at yourself. You had done it, yes, but now you felt sort of guilty, because the last thing you wanted was to damage his or the team's image. You shake your head, trying to to keep those thoughts away. It was just a party, a party for you, with only selected people being allowed in, it wasn't like you'd wake up to your name on the news.

"Come ooon.. don't be such a party pooper!" You slurred.

Toto was shocked by your reaction, part of him wanted you to celebrate as you wished, after all, you had just fulfilled a dream, but the other part, the responsible boss part craved an explanation, he didn't want you to cause any harm to your already fragile media image.

"Are you serious? You're the star of the entire team today! We have thrown a party just for you and you're getting off on drugs?" He says, lowering his voice on the last word as he crosses his arm.

"It's just a blunt, Toto. I swear I'm fine." Your laugh echoes throughout the small room as you grab his big arms, uncrossing them. "Don't get so serious on me." You look up at him through your lashes.

Toto gives you a stern look before a smirk creeps up on his face. The anger and seriousness fades away in an instant as he realizes the situation wasn't that serious. He sighs and looks at you with a sly, yet curious look. "How many? One, right?"

"Just one, sir." You say mischievously, holding your pinky finger up before kissing it to symbolize a promise.

Toto is taken aback as you kiss your pinky finger in a sarcastic manner, although he doesn't say anything. He looks at you with the same sly look as before. "I see... and have you done this before?"

"Who hasn't, duh?" You furrow your brows, flashing him a backward smile.

'He hasn't, of course. That's Torger Wolff we're talking about' you think to yourself as you look up at him. The soreness of your muscles and the pain of being on your feet for so long getting to you.

Sometimes it was kind of annoying having a conversation with your boss due to the fact that you had to look up the entire time, and countless were the times you found yourself with neck pain after hours of chatting. This conversation would surely be added to that imaginary countless list of yours, because even today, with high heels that could make you look six feet tall, he still looked way too big.

Toto chuckles before getting a playful look on his face. "Oh, really? I highly doubt the star of my F1 team has ever smoked a blunt before, although you do seem very knowledgeable about this." He moves closer to you, looking down at you as he speaks, his voice low and husky. You wondered if his neck ever went through the same problem yours did when you two talked, causing you to chuckle.

"I do?" You lift one eyebrow, narrowing your eyes. "Well, I must say.. the star of your precious F1 Team has done a lot, Mr. Wolff." It comes off more flirtatious than you intended, but you pay no mind to it. You try to take a step back, but end up slipping on the hem of your gown, the high getting to you later than ever.

Toto immediately rushes to you and catches you mid-air, wrapping his arms around your torso.

"Is that so?" Toto says, his voice now raspy and face close to yours.

You exhale deeply, relief from not having made an absolute mess out of yourself filling your body. If you had fallen, your dress would probably be completely torn apart and headlines would have a field trip with it.

He is still holding you, his hands burning on your back.

"Yeah.." You close your eyes, getting away from Toto's embrace as you regain balance and straighten yourself.

Toto steps back as you do so, although he does want to reach out to hold you again. Instead, he settles for engaging on more double entendre conversations with you.

His eyes are full of admiration, your body is more visible in this dress than it has ever been, and he makes a mental note to thank Lewis for the gift. He recalls the moment you two shared a few minutes ago, the way you swayed and jumped with the music like you were the only person in that dance floor would never fail to amaze him.

"You truly do look like a notorious celebrity in this dress, don't you?" He finally says, a hint of shyness in his tone, although the look in his face is stern.

"You could thank your other driver for that." You joke, trying to hide the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach.

"I certainly will." he smiles, his gaze softening as his eyes meet yours. They're still red, but it starts to grow on him.

Looking at you like this, completely wasted, happy and carefree, he couldn't help but remember the afternoon you two had met, when he started to be so sure you'd be by his and Lewis' side on a race weekend one day.

Now, there you were, in front of him, with a trophy standing somewhere back in your apartment. "I'm so proud of you." he finally says, not because he thinks you should hear it, but because it's all he wants to say to you after today's events.

You look away from him shyly. You had heard it before, specially from him, but every single time felt like fireworks in your belly. Him being proud of you was capable of putting you on a whole another level, it was just another signal that you had made it, that you had proved you were capable, even to those who were always so sure you definitely were.

You try to hide a smile as you mutter a simple thank you, because in this state, visibly high and drunk, staring at the man who had made it all possible, it's all you manage to say.

He smiles back at you, and your mind almost short circuits when he steps closer, not stopping even when you can feel his breath close to your face. That's when you realize he's about to hug you, and you just let him.

It's genuine, simple yet abnormally meaningful. His big hands rest crossed on your lower back as he pulls you closer, making your cheeks rest on his suit covered chest. You almost feel like crying, because how could you not? You had it all now, a place in the sport you so desperately craved to have since you were a kid, a win, an amazing teammate and an even more amazing boss, who believed in you through your entire career.

"You've done it." He says quietly as if you're a wild animal that would run away at any abrupt movement or sound. "I can't even imagine how you feel."

On cloud nine, that was the most appropriate answer.

"It's like nothing I've ever felt." you say, arms hugging his chest. "Thank you for always believing in me, you have no idea how much you've done for me." you sniff, clearly on the verge of tears.

"It's nothing compared to what you deserve. You're one of the greats, Y/N. The whole world's gonna know you name." he says, causing the tears you so eagerly fought to keep off to fall rapidly on your cheeks. You sniff, opening your eyes to see that a small wet circle had formed on Toto's shirt.

"Shit, sorry." You laugh awkwardly as you take a step back, desperately trying to dry your tears with your fingers before they ruined your makeup too.

"Hey, it's fine." He steps closer again, bringing his thumb to your face as he continues your job of drying the tears you had shed. Once he's done, his hands linger there for a bit longer than they needed to, stroking your cheeks. You thank the Gods for whatever the hell he was on today. "You do look pretty when you cry, though I must say I prefer the way you look on top of a podium, with champagne drenched hair and a first place trophy in hand."

You roll your eyes, as if it was possible to fall even more in love with him. It had become stupid at this point, really. Clearly the two of you had something special, to say the least, going on, but none of you were courageous enough to come clean about this.

"You aren't a bad view from up there as well." You shoot back, earning a smile in return.

The shameless and obvious flirtation to whoever watched from outside continued for a few minutes, until Toto insisted that you should go back to your party, and although at this point you had decided to give up the celebrations to look at him for the rest of night, there he was, once again with his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the crowd back to where he initially had seen you. Doesn't take long for you to get lost in the music, dancing like there was no tomorrow. Toto had excused himself to greet other team members and sponsors, fulfilling the ultimate boss role even at parties, and stealing glances from you every now and then while talking to someone.

A few drinks later, the club was getting more empty by the minute, the clock almost hitting 4:30 a.m. Your makeup was already lightly smudged, your black Louboutins long gone in the corner you once laughed with your friends. As you thanked the remaining people for coming, Toto showed up again, startling you as he came from behind, putting his right hand in your shoulder.

"Seems like the party has reached an end." he says, making you look up at him. His face was fairly red, and by the way he slurred his words, you could tell he was somewhat drunk. His hair was messier than earlier and the tie that was once a fancy bow was now untied, resting around his neck, a nice combination to his slightly unbuttoned shirt.

"Unfortunately. I hope you had fun, though." you reply, turning your attention to shake some of your guests' hands.

"It's always fun with you around." He says as he smiles to the same people shaking your hands.

You crookedly smile, turning around to walk to your table. As you do so, he follows.

"Do you need a ride? I saw you coming in with Bradley, but he already left," He watches you as you walk through the empty club, employees cleaning the floor of what was once the party of a lifetime. "guess parties aren't really his thing." He chuckles.

"I don't wanna make you take me home now, it's late and you're probably very tired."

"Oh, please, it's Monaco. Not like I'm going to be driving for hours." He replies, earning you a laugh. You and Toto lived pretty close to each other, but you'd drive past his building before getting to yours, so you truly didn't want him to make a huge detour just because of you.

"Fine," you smile, grabbing your sparkly clutch. "just please tell me you came with your 300sl roadster." You say and he chortles, rolling his eyes.

The Mercedes 300SL Roadster owned by Toto was probably one of your favorite cars in his collection. Hell, in anyone's collection. It's such an incredibly classy vehicle you couldn't resist its charm.

"I did." He says, and you let out a slightly loud yes! as he grabs your scarpins, laughing at your reaction. The way the smallest things were capable of making you happy always made him smile. Even after closing a multi-millionaire deal with your team, some things would never fail to make you excited, such as being driven home in a car you've always wanted.

The both of you start to walk towards Jimmy'z's exit in a different sort of haze, like the two of you were in your own little world together, laughing and exchanging inside jokes. The dry warm Monaco summer air hits you as soon as you step out, and soon the vallet comes driving Toto's car, opening the door for you to get in.

As the both of you get in, he starts driving, the sound of the car's engine echoing throughout Princesse Grace Avenue. Duke Dumont's Ocean Drive in the radio as your hair flies due to the speed in which Toto's driving. Now and then, he casually glances at you, smiling at the way you still manage to dance even when sitting on the passenger's seat.

Despite being a race weekend, the city seemed awfully quiet and empty at this time. Soon enough, he takes a turn and you're finally in Larvotto, which meant in a few seconds he'd be pulling up at your home. However, before he had the chance to, you saw the sun rising in distance, its warm light gleaming in the sea water.

"Toto, look!" you point to the horizon, and he slows the car down to follow your gaze. "It's so beautiful.."

"Indeed it is.." he says, and you can tell by his tone he's got a change of plans coming. When you realize, he's parking the car in the shore, exiting the vehicle to open the door for you. "Come on, let me give you a real after party."

You smile, because there was no way the day could get any better. You were sure you'd wake up later convincing yourself this had been a dream. Taking your hand, he pulls you out of the car, and after you close the door, he runs towards the sea, fingers intertwined with yours.

In this moment, you force yourself to forget about all of the implications and concerns that could come at you. In this moment, it was just you and Toto, not a Mercedes driver and the Mercedes' Team Principal. To anyone else who'd catch a glimpse of the scene, the both of you looked like stupid, reckless teenagers in love.

Sitting on the sand, you try to catch your breath, stomach hurting due to you not being able to stop laughing. You lay your head on his broad shoulders, hands holding his arm.

Suddenly, he feels the need to confess, "I'm always so happy when I'm around you" with the german accent getting heavier as it always did when he was drunk.

You smile, "Me too."

A beat, and then, "You're the most amazing woman I've ever known."

It comes lower than he intends to, but he's also never felt so nervous around someone as he does now. You thank the heavens for the fact that he's not looking at you, you look like a kid stupidly in love.

"You don't need to say that," you sigh. "you've already told me you're proud of me for today."

"I know. I'm not saying it because I feel the need for it to be said, but because I truly think that." he replies. "Ever since that day in Spa, you've proven to be an extremely fierce, fearless, wonderful driver and an even more amazing woman." You roll your eyes at his compliments. "I mean it, Y/N." He grabs your attention just by saying your name, making it all even more real. "Mercedes is extremely lucky to have you, and so am I." he looks at you, his face closer than ever as yours rest on his shoulder.

"You have me?" You say, looking at him through your lashes.

"I like to think I do. Do I?"

"Utterly." You giggle, your eyes glowing just by looking at him.

His hands go to cup your face, and the last thing you'd expect from him happens. At first, his lips brush over yours lightly, as if he's asking for permission, testing the waters to see if he's allowed to go further. When you don't protest, he deepens the kiss, sweeping you off your feet.

The both of you laugh, and you hide your now completely red face in his chest. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this." you say, feeling his body hairs stand on end.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to do this." he says, and you shed a tear on his partially shirt covered chest. "Are you crying?" He asks, and when he hears you sniff, he takes it as a yes. "Hey, don't cry. Look." he lifts your chin up, making you stare at the scene unfolding in front of your eyes.

The sunrise looked like a piece of art, with pinkish and yellow tones coloring the sky. Toto puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. You could now add having him at your list as well.

[oofthwoods]

'23 grid ── ˙ ̟ the echo !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: an overview of fem!driver relationship with a few drivers on the grid. just a bunch of cute headcanons that i can't get out of my head. i only added the ones i feel she would be closest with, but feel free to ask me about any other driver!

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: recommend reading the introduction for the backstory.

˒ ⌕ — MICK SCHUMACHER ( 47 )

more than mere teammates, mick and her have been glued to the hip ever since they met. with both of their parents being ex-formula one drivers for the same team, it was clear from the very start that they would see each other very often. as kids, wondering around the paddock, as teens, supporting each other on the track and now, as young adults, competing against each other on porsche and f1.

while mick is a sweet, introverted guy who tends to think about every word that leaves his miuth, she is the complete opposite — loud, bashful and someone who should have a bigger filter between your brain and mouth. is the epitome of orange cat × golden retriever, and fans eat it up.

while mick sometimes can calm her, it's more likely that she brings him into her shenanigans.

˒ ⌕ — MAX VERSTAPPEN ( 33 )

her and max couldn't have a more different upbringing. while he was roughly shaped into a champion by his father, she had been carefully brought into the motorsport world by yours.

they've met during her years as a red bull junior, and what started with max being a bit annoyed by her non-stop talking quickly turned into an honest friendship, where they both can say whatever they want.

it leads to max saying the most unhinged things and her being the only one who jokes along instead of feeling concerned.

˒ ⌕ — LEWIS HAMILTON ( 44 )

probably one of the cutest driver pairings in the grid. fans love to dig out old picture from the two and compare to it now.

lewis has always had a soft spot for her, ever since she was a kid roaming around in the paddock. he would show her his car, explaining all the things to her and claiming that his team was better than whatever team her dad was on.

once she came back to the paddock, now as a driver, he took one look at her and immediately took her under his wing. they both are, in their own ways, alone within the rest of the grid and he wouldn't let the media, or anyone for what matters, dim her light.

on the daily, he is always checking up on her, not in a overbearing fatherly way, but more as an older brother figure.

during her first months he managed to convince the media outlets to pair them both together for every interview, and he was always quick to shut down any stupid question sent her way.

if she annoys him for long enough, she manages to make him agree to coordinate his outfits with her.

˒ ⌕ — FERNANDO ALONSO ( 14 )

similar to lewis, she met alonso when she was very young. although he had a bad reputation during that time, she always loved to hang out with him, because she loved how cool he looked every time he won a race.

it took him some time to warm up to her, as he was never that great with kids when he was younger, but when she gifted him a drawing she had made of him winning a race, he was done for. yes, he was still seen as some sort of villain, but everyone agreed that he looked more human when she was on him arms.

he would grab her from her father's garage (with his permission, of course) and would take her to his, always waiting with her favorite flavor of pizza. it became a tradition for the both of them to eat it before a race, being his or hers.

whenever he could, he would watch her races from her garage, proudly wearing team merchandise with her name on it. when she won her f2 championship, he made sure to stand closely to the podium, and he would deny it, but he cried a bit when she raised her trophy.

such a cute duo because he tries to keep up with the things she likes, but still doesn't fully understand everything, so one day he would randomly say that her outfits is slaying and would leave with a polite smile while she stands there, confused, wondering where the hell did he learn that.

still tries to continue their pizza traditions <3

˒ ⌕ — LANDO NORRIS ( 04 )

they both barely knew each other before her debut in f1, but somehow clicked instantly. it might be because of their self depreciated tendencies, or their constant sarcasm. who knows? the only thing that matters is that when a reporter asks a stupid question, they can communicate with a single glance.

lando tries to get her intro photography but gives up once she couldn't fully understand how to correctly operate a camera. claims that she is a pretty good model to make up for it <3

somehow they know everything about everyone. it's a mix of lando knowing the drivers very well, and her knowing a lot of the mechanics of different teams. whenever something happens in the paddock, they both definitely know.

˒ ⌕ — GEORGE RUSSELL ( 63 )

met simply because she thought his pose was so funny that she had to ask him if he thought about it previously or decided to just wing it during filming. he was slightly confused that she seemed so friendly after they had just net, but quickly understood that was simply how she acted.

the most meme worthy duo. with his perfect timed actions and her dynamic facial expressions, their faces are always seen together plastered on twitter.

the butt of most of her jokes. she constantly sends him tiktoks and he claims that he is tired of it, but always sees each one and gives a little commentary.

if lewis is her caring older brother, george is her annoying one.

˒ ⌕ — OSCAR PIASTRI ( 81 )

the two of them have a long running joke because they don't know when they met. they've never competed against each other, as he was always one year above in the series, and never raced for the same team, but somehow, they feel like you've always been friends.

(they once actually sat down to try and trace back to their first meeting, but only got as far as to a gala in 2020, but they both remember already being friends during that.)

people thought they would never see them interact because of their distinct personalities and were very surprised when she pulled him into a hug after their race in bahrain.

always bantering and joking, oscar likes that she understand his sense of humor and don't take it too seriously.

˒ ⌕ — ALEX ALBON ( 23 )

met solely because she felt the need to tell him how pretty his girlfriend was. he was very confused but appreciated the compliment (even though it wasn't dedicated to him).

after that he kept getting drawn by her straight to the point comments, always failing to conceal his laughter after she says something, either during debriefing or interviews.

she pretty much became his and lily's daughter. they take her out to eat after races, lily tries to teach her how to golf and alex convinces her to die her hair if she scores at least 10 ponths.

[ayrtonswnna]

ʚïɞ "a podium to celebrate" OP81

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀oscar piastri x redbull!driver!oc

summary: in witch aria won't let oscar's first win be ruined.

warnings: fluff all the way down!!!!! this is all fiction and i mean no hate towards lando, i'm a mclaren fan and like both their drivers. swearing, english is not my first language, had to sacrifice lewis 200th win for this.

word count: 1k

"Oscar Piastri, P1! Oh my god! Always on my way!" Aria jumps in excitement as she enters the cool-down room, a cold towel around her neck as she smiles at the Aussie.

They are good friends; physically close, yes, but always professional and caring towards each other. Two rookies from the 2023 season, they've been racing each other since their earlier categories.

"It's my first job ever, you know." he chuckles softly, with a small shrug and a strange tension in the air as he approaches. "Good race to you too! I saw Babybull in my rearview the whole time."

"I’ve got to keep the pressure up," she jokes, wrapping her arms around his waist as he hugs her over the shoulders, playfully. "What happened? Is the car okay?"

"Yeah. Just team stuff." He shrugs again. "We’ll talk later."

And then it hits. A furious Lando Norris storms into the room, a frown on his face as he throws his Pirelli cap on the floor, his helmet making a loud noise as it hits the surface.

"Yeah, you guys surely can talk later." the Brit growls. "Good race, you guys."

"Would’ve liked your place, but yeah." Aria teases, something she often does.

Even a grumpy Max Verstappen on his worst radio days would crack a smile around her in the paddock. But not today, not the race vice-winner.

"Maybe if you asked... I was really supposed to give in. It'd be no news."

"Lando had to give me the position on the last lap." Oscar explains, trying to ease the tension and stop the sarcasm. "The team messed up."

"Oh— Yeah, that’s tough, guys." She sighs, now sitting down in her third-place chair, exchanging glances with the papaya boys. "I’m sorry. But hey! Double podium! Double the points, double the reason to celebrate!" Aria tries to lighten the mood, as the three of them now watch the race highlights on the big screen.

"Don’t act like Babybull and Madmax haven’t done this too many times."

Aria gets it. It’s a fucked-up feeling; swapping spots so late in the race might feel like a P20, it might be terrible. She usually gets along very well with both McLaren drivers, and that’s probably why she’s a bit surprised by the harsh tone in the older boy's voice.

Even the “Babybull” nickname feels off. She was given that name after winning her first race in her rookie year, driving for Red Bull and crying like a baby. Both RB drivers were together in an interview when Max jokingly called her a "baby driving a fast car." The name stuck.

"Never too many." she decides to let the conversation fade, trying to catch Oscar's eyes but failing.

The train of thought has its chance to choo-choo along until they’re getting ready for the podium.

She knows the Aussie driver well enough. He might be feeling terrible, and doesn’t even need to hear the whole situation to feel like the worst teammate in the world. Her head tilts up when she sees her engineer, as the winning trio walks up to the trophy ceremony, their bond strong enough that he knows what she wants to know, even from a distance as they prepare the backstage for the podium.

"Piastri had the lead, they messed up the pit call and Norris stayed out with the lead." the older guy explains, his lips moving just enough for her to read them. They had people in the way, so she has to use a bit if effort to understand. "They told him to switch, he didn’t want to. Obviously. Obviously. It took time to convince him, almost went downhill."

Her mouth forms a perfect "O" before the staff calls her up for the trophy. Aria could already think it was something like this. Mclaren been fooling around with their team decision and even though Oscar is just too polite when talking about it, she did hear some complains. This box call thing is a recurring issue, she listened to him talking about it and could notice the papaya cars having this problem during the races.

Minutes later, Norris is popping the champagne like he hasn’t in the past few races, while Aria’s mind holds her still for the papaya boys to celebrate their double podium. She slowly sets her trophy away from the chaos the area might become, looking at the center of the podium as nothing big happens. No big celebrations, just Oscar holding his trophy while Lando sprays the champagne with force, as he usually does, even if he hasn’t been in the mood for it in recent weeks.

Then Norris heads to spray the cheering crowd, leaving her best friend to celebrate alone. — Of course, if Aria wasn’t there. Her bottle spilling alcohol for a few seconds before she throws it towards Oscar, yelling a loud "2000s for the win!" and laughing as the boy is caught by surprise.

"You’re ridiculous." he jokes, spraying the liquid on her as they start to chase each other like two kids on a playground; their playground, the Hungarian podium of the Formula One championship.

For a while, the guilt and angst Oscar feels over such a controversial win can fade away, and that’s the thing about his friend, or whatever they don’t mind being called.

She is a stream of light — that’s what she does to people in her orbit. The boy is now grinning from ear to ear, finally celebrating his win, something he almost felt he didn’t deserve.

"Future’s looking bright, huh?" She sets the bottle down as they wave a last goodbye to the crowd. "I like sharing this life with you."

Osc nods, a few seconds delayed before he lets his eyes meet his friend's.

It really is like sharing a life; they’re around each other all the time, prefer eating in the common areas in the paddock just so they can have lunch together. They know each other’s parents, celebrate each other’s wins, and visit each other’s hotel rooms late at night. Physical intimacy, it might be happening tonight.

"Yeah, me too," he says, smiling, soaked in champagne, his hair hidden under his cap, his eyes squinting in the sun. "Thank you."

"For what?" Aria chuckles as they’re called off the podium.

"You know what for. I’m lucky to have you."

"We’re lucky to have each other."

ʚïɞ

[moviecritc]

Hi! Could you do a driver!reader who is dating Max and is in ferrari and the whole Carlos thing is happening to her so in Australia she ignores team orders and goes to win the race. Charles is mad at her and in the post race interview when asked about it she is just like "Happy multi 21 day everyone" and like Max is so fucking proud his gf is in her reputation era 💅💅💅

on the edge ⋆ max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x driver!reader

word count: 1.7K

warnings: charles leclerc being himself (a bitch)

a/n: this is my first request it makes me very very happy!! thanks anon for your request, i hope you like this. i love max with all my heart and i love writing about him aswell.

just wanted to tell you guys that for the requests you can ask for reader and oc, even though when it's not a request it'll probably be an oc bc i love to give names to my characters <3

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

Y/N didn't have a seat for the upcoming Formula 1 season, and that stressed her out quite a bit. She and Charles had been teammates for three years, and she really thought Ferrari would keep her on the team, but upon learning that Lewis Hamilton was leaving Mercedes, they were the first to snatch him up and turn their backs on her.

Now she had two options: give up, pray to sign with Williams or Haas, or outperform herself this season and force her way into one of the top five teams. And for now, she had chosen the second option. P3 in the first race and in the top five in the second. She was extremely motivated for Australia.

Y/N loved the view of the fireworks from the podium, the champagne, and, above all, celebrating with Max Verstappen. Because let's not lie, it was obvious that Max would be on most of the podiums.

They kept their relationship out of the media. Being coworkers, neither of them wanted their relationship to hinder their success in Formula 1, but that didn't mean they didn't support each other every time the other achieved something.

Max had been with her throughout her Formula 1 career. They were the same age, but when Max debuted in the competition, she was still in Formula 2, battling against Albon and Russell for the title. A year before his debut, Y/N got a spot at Alpha Tauri as a reserve driver. It was in that year that Max and she started a relationship, at first quite casual and sporadic until they realized they were too obsessed with each other not to formalize it. And four years later, they were still together, sharing an attic in Monaco and competing together for the championship.

"It's going to be great for both of us, I'm sure," Y/N nodded. Before each race, they had a kind of ritual where they wished each other good luck, hugged, and kissed.

"I see a Y/Nstappen 1-2," Max assured before giving her a long kiss, resting his arms on his girlfriend's waist.

"I hope so,"

"Oh, come on. You're starting fourth, it'll be bad if you don't get on the podium," Max said. He knew her situation in Formula 1 was tense and did everything he could to make her feel good and positive. Max loved racing with her, and if she ended up off the grid next season, he would probably suffer from seasonal depression.

They kissed once more and were about to hug when someone knocked on Max's door to get them to the drivers' parade. They couldn't complete their little ritual, but neither of them gave it too much importance.

They went out to the parade where she was asked about her future in Formula 1, as they had been doing since the season started. That also annoyed her, would it always be like this from now on? Would everything be oriented towards whether she was unemployed or not? She answered with the best smile she could and ended the interview as quickly as possible.

She returned to Max, who was leaning on the fence of the truck they were being taken in for the parade. She leaned on the railing, holding it with her hands. Then Max discreetly placed his hand on hers, making her smile at the contact. Max wasn't very fond of physical contact, but if he could manage to brush against her shoulder, he would, maintaining professionalism wasn't as easy as it seemed.

"How's it going, mates?" Surprisingly, Leclerc approached them to start a conversation, first fist bumping with Max and then with Y/N, pressing his lips a little.

Their relationship as teammates was quite complicated at the moment. She was killing it in the few races that had passed, while Charles was just doing okay. Plus, although when Y/N joined the team, Charles and she had gotten along very well, that year they had been growing apart for obvious reasons.

They talked for a while about the race and expectations, especially Max and Charles, while Y/N disconnected from the situation a bit. Sometimes she was surprised that Charles and Max got along so well.

"Good luck today, Y/N," Charles said before leaving with Gasly.

Y/N blinked and looked at Max, puzzled. "What did he mean by that?"

"What do you mean?" Max frowned a little.

"He wished me luck, as if he thought I needed it," she insisted, biting her cheek.

"Everyone needs some luck, Y/N," Max said, knowing how nervous she could get when something didn't fit in her head.

"He didn't say anything to you," Y/N argued, crossing her arms.

"I mean…" Max tilted his head a little, eliciting a little smile from Y/N. "Don't dwell on it too much, you'll do great."

She loved that, how Max was able to lift her spirits in any situation, getting a little smile out of her. She loved him for that.

The parade ended, and they each went to their garage, fist bumping as a farewell because anything else would cause a stir in the media. In the Ferrari garage, her engineer commented on the strategies that focused on supporting and defending Charles even if he started two positions below her.

She gave Charles a short glance before going to the cars and taking their respective positions. It’s light and away we go. Y/N was so focused on passing Lando Norris that she didn't realize her boyfriend was no longer in first place, actually, he wasn't there anymore. She asked the engineers what had happened; Max had had some problems with the brakes and had retired from the race. "Don't fuck with me," she said, not fully believing it. "Is Max okay?"

"We don't know, focus on the race," her engineer emphasized.

"When you know, tell me, please," Y/N added, without receiving a response. There had been no accident, no red flag, so he was probably fine. But if there was smoke and sparks, there was always a chance that something had happened to him in the pits.

Y/N took a couple of breaths and refocused on the race. She looked on the bright side; she was third and had a chance to win. A few laps later, she managed to overtake Lando Norris. She pitted, and in the last third of the race, she was in first place. Behind her was Charles, so she thought they would change the strategy, and he would be the one defending the position.

"Y/N, let Charles pass," her engineer said, taking her by surprise.

"What?" Y/N practically shouted. "But I'm in first,"

"They're team orders, let him pass,"

"He's slow! He's over half a second behind me, letting him pass will make me slow down!" She couldn't believe this was happening.

"Y/N."

"If he can overtake me, let him, but I'm not letting him pass. I'm winning this fucking race."

And so it was. Y/N crossed the finish line first, and when she got out of the car, Max was there to greet her with a hug. He tried to make her not notice that there were hardly any people from her team there, but Y/N realized it, and her gaze darkened a little. Still, Charles came second, and when he parked his car, several Ferrari mechanics went to congratulate him.

Max watched Y/N, worried that she would take it badly. But then he saw her exchange a triumphant

look with Charles, who, upon seeing her, turned serious. And if that wasn't enough, she blew a kiss to Charles and then went with Max, who put an arm around her shoulders.

"That was incredible," Max said.

"The race or Charles's face?" she questioned, with an ironic smile.

"Both. I thought you'd be sad because there was no one to greet you,"

"You were there,"

"From your team, I mean," Max explained.

"You and I are a team, Maxie. Have you never thought about that?" She looked at him with a smile. "You're right, we are,"

"Are you okay?" Y/N asked. "I got quite worried when you DNF’d."

"I'm okay, no serious damage,"

"And emotionally?"

"I'm fine. Proud of you, above all," Max nodded. "Now go celebrate your podium, I'll be watching you from below,"

They gave each other a brief kiss on the cheek, not caring too much about the cameras; she had just won the race, she deserved at least a kiss from her boyfriend. She received her prize with a smile and celebrated the podium with Charles and Lando, more with Lando than with Charles. The McLaren driver had congratulated her countless times that day, but Charles barely spoke to her.

"Are you okay, mate?" Y/N asked, knowing what was coming.

"You didn't follow team orders," Charles said directly.

"Oh, right. That," she shrugged, raising her eyebrows. "You came second, Charles. It's not that bad,"

"Damn, but if they tell you to let me pass, you let me pass. What does it matter to you?" he raised his voice a little.

"What does it matter to you? You have your golden seat at Ferrari. Some of us have to work really hard to have a seat, crazy, right?" Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile and turned around, leaving Charles with a word on his lips.

Y/N reached the interview area, where Lando and Oscar were doing their respective interviews.

"Y/N! You won the race by disobeying team orders, does it feel the same as winning a race fair and square?" a man asked.

"Fair and square? I was fast enough to cross the line first, the rest weren't. I think that's how a race is supposed to be won," she argued. She smiled widely; she saw Max was also around, waiting for his turn for interviews.

"Don't you have any remorse?" he questioned.

"Not one,"

She ended the interview after that; she didn't feel like explaining. As she turned around, she found Max with an almost mischievous smile. They fist bumped, and he went to do the interview. "Max, can we ask you about the win of your girlfriend?"

"About Y/N,"

"Yes, about Y/N," he nodded.

"I'm extremely proud of her, it's her second victory, and even though I had to retire, I'm glad she won this race,"

"Even given the circumstances of the victory?" the reporter questioned.

"With the circumstances of the victory," Max assured with a broad smile.

[cheriladycl01]

Ghost - Oscar Piastri x UnknownDriver! Reader Part 2

Plot: Reader is the first female F1 driver of the century, however no-one knows that as you are a ghost on the grid. You started in 2022, coming in P12 in the championship. You get moved to Red Bull Racing in 2023 with the off year for Sergio Perez.

"Ghost, Radio Check Please" you engineer says as you pull from the pits.

You hadn't got a win yet, of course you'd had many podiums. Some even last year when you were with Alpine, more this year with Red Bull.

You wanted the win, even though it meant showing who you were and that came with a price, you felt ready. You just needed a reason to come forward with it.

However, even with Oscar's assuring words earlier in the day your P15 start because of the way qually went for you didn't feel like a win was applicable.

"Check" you say before driving out of the pits and into P15 behind Sargent and in front of Tsunoda. You really though that today might be the day and it would have been iconic it being your home Grand Prix and all. But it just didn't look possible when you weren't even in the middle sector of the grid.

You released a big breath as the red lights went out, you dived forward taking over Sargent gaining one place. Esteban who was ahead of him, seeing your Red Bull immediately forgot about Stroll ahead of him and starting defending against you.

For the first 14 laps, in your sector there weren't many changes in positions. Up ahead you had no idea what the grid looked like. But nothing much had changed behind you.

It wasn't until you could feel your tires both getting warn out and starting to struggle with the typical UK drizzle that was upon the race.

"Need to pit soon, cars getting harder to manage with the rain" you admit, knowing that the pit crew already probably have the intermediate tires ready for you.

"Pit on the next lap. Max will pit after you" he advises. However as your coming into the pits, you can see that Vertsappens Red Bull is currently there having its tires changed.

"What the fuck is going on?" you ask pulling up behind Max just as he leaves making you pull forward.

"Copy" is all you get and you let out a frustrated sound that was between a yell and a grunt.

Red Bull made up for it with an exceptionally quick stop for you and you got out on the track again. Luckily, others had pitted as well due to the weather conditions, so you came back out in P15.

"Look, I'm sorry about the incident Christian and the strategists are looking into it but there something I got to ask you, because clearly these methods are no longer working!" you hear you engineer say, you ignore him for a split second taking the corner before you throw back your moody reply.

"What?"

"Who runs the world?" he asks and a smirks comes onto your face. Lewis may have hammer time, but boy oh boy...

"Girls, John, Girls run this mother fucker" you shout into the radio before breaking late and overtaking Lance who was the unfortunate soul currently trying to defend from your driving.

You gain further up, Ocon ahead of you.

"Gap to Ocon?" you ask.

"0.3" you hear, you drive up so your behind him, you swerve the tiniest bit right, he does the same making for a accelerated swerve from you to the left and a clean move up to P12. And just like that you started combing through the grid, Hulkenberg, Gasly, Alonso, Albon, Russell, Sainz and Leclerc all got combed through until you were sitting sweetly in P5, Max, Lando, Lewis and Piastri just ahead.

"Lewis and Piastri are ahead. Fighting for P3, if you catch them both by surprise thats a podium. Gap is 1.2 seconds. Increase on Sector 2"

"Copy that" you say, both the McLaren and Mercedes drivers once you get closer to them are dancing around each other slipping in and out of P3.

"Like two ostriches doing a tango up ahead John" you laugh into the radio.

Just as you manage to overtake the two distracted drivers down the small straight John comes back onto the radio.

"Max has damage to his car. He had to come pit and he's currently P9. You can win this, go prove Beyonce right" he says, this was all you needed. You were currently P2, Lando the only driver ahead of you and thanks to the straight a significant gap had been created between you and Lewis and Oscar.

"Distance to Lando"

"2.4 seconds, speed up that Sector 3 now and you've got him. He's on the newer tires but you can get him. Bring it home" he tells you and you go very serious. No thoughts just the track, you catch up to Lando within a lap, fighting with him for P1.

"Max has climbed back, he's P5 and Oscars trying to defend" you engineer says, you didn't currently care about how close Max was to you, just getting that stream on Lando that would get you the overtake.

SKYSPORTS LIVE: David Croft- Can i just say Martin todays race has been one of the best of the season, for some reason we haven't been allowed to aire the radio between Ghost and his engineer but whatever was said... he's had an amazing drive today, going from P15 all the way to P2 and potentially P1 depending how Norris actually ends up defending against him. Its just been tremendous Martin Bundle- Yes its been amazing from Ghost's comeback to, Lewis a 7 time world champ struggling to overtake and defend the current rookie on the grid, to Max Verstappen reporting car issues, to the lack of DNF's we've had here today at Silverstone David Coft- Oh my lord whats this? He's going for the overtake

Lando goes too wide, his wheel clipping against the track edging making you be able to accelerate past as he struggles to re-gain control.

You manage to get a good gap ahead around corners that prove difficult for the McLaren now behind you.

"One lap Ghost, hold" John advizes and you keep driving, the last lap feeling like a cool down, the sweat drenching all around you due to the panic and sheer oomph of the driving conducted today.

SKYSPORTS LIVE: David Croft- AND WITH THAT FOLKS, WE HAVE THE FIRST WIN FROM GHOST WINNER OF THE SILVERSTONE 2023 GRAND PRIX, LANDO NORRIS BEHIND HIM AND OH MY GOSH A LAST MINUTE OVERTAKE FROM HAMILTON MEANING A TRIPLE PODIUM HERE FOR BRITAIN! Martin Bundle- What a day here at Silverstone, and now three brits are on the podium at their home race

You took yourself out the car, handing the wheel to a Red Bull member before pulling yourself with the halo to stand on the front of the car. John and a few other members pull you down to celebrate with them, before you are ushered off to be weighed.

The cool down room was awkward as you could never speak to the people in there, so you would shake hands before excusing yourself. You took the balaclava off, before tucking your hair in and placing your helmet back over your head.

Now it was time for the podium! Your first winning trophy and you couldn't be more excited, nothing could bring down you mood!

Or so you thought.

You went onto the stage, knowing this was the reveal. You and Christian had spoken about it, knowing your first win was inevitable.

"Today has been a historic day at Silverstone. Not only do we have three Brits standing proud on their home podium, we've had one of the biggest comeback of the year today, despite the mistimed pitstops and the weather, he has pulled his first win out of the bag!" an announcer says coming onto the stage.

"Before we go any further Christian Horner would like to say a few words" an announcer admits, Lewis and Lando turn to you excited to finally see the person behind the helmet. Lando had this running joke that you must be obscenely ugly which is why the helmet is kept on because 'Ghost' is intimidated by him and all the other attractive faces present on the grid.

"Hello everyone. Today doesn't just mark historic reasons for the ones just said. Ghost joined us at the end of the 2022 season when we brought them out of their 2 year contract with Alpine, there was ability and promise there that the team didn't want to both miss out on or go to an enemy team and become a menace on the grid. However, Alpine let a few of us at Red Bull in on Ghost's little secret and to say we were excited was an understatement. This year they have proved their worth and i cant wait for their future at Red Bull. That being said, i think its about time i introduce you to Ghost" he says gesturing towards you.

"This is Y/N Y/L/N" he shouts as you take of the helmet displaying your face to the world. Not only could gasps be heard from the drivers right next to you but from the whole crowd not expecting this outcome.

Lando was in a state of shock, he didn't know what would unveil from that helmet but Oscars longtime crush Y/N Y/L/N the sweet Social Media Manager for Ghost was not one of them.

He was confused at how she had managed to pull of this double life, but ultimately was so happy. This was an important day for her, being the first female to ever win a F1 race.

His eyes flicked down to Oscar in the McLaren section as he'd promised to come watch his best friends win, even if he wasn't up there with him. Lando's gaze met his and there were too many emotions upon the usually chill and placid male that he couldn't dechiper what he was feeling.

There was anger, sadness, frustration, betrayal. And he could have sworn, there were a couple of tears brimming the edges. Lewis had you pulled into a hug right now, congratulating you for everything you've achieved up until now, as all of your achievements were bigger and meant more.

As you went to turn to Lando to pull him into a hug, seeing as you guys were friends as yourself, but seeing his gaze fixed on Oscar a feeling of hurt formed in your chest. His gaze locked onto you and the force of his anger and betrayal could have knocked you back.

He ran off into the crowd back towards the paddock, you wanted to go follow but Lando shook his head. As much as this had hurt Oscar, you deserved to enjoy this moment.

But knowing you'd hurt Oscar, you didn't enjoy a single moment.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover

[redfacedpalindrome]

barcelona gp recap:

i actually don’t even know if i can do this. i have so many thoughts about this race i have no ability to categorize them so…long post alert.

in no particular order:

charles leclerc being a racing icon taking a gamble in quali that paid off perfectly during the race. he planned his own strategy, executed it, took control of his own destiny - it was fucking perfection. couple of things though: for once he got lucky with the safety car. it’s what enabled the podium lunge — otherwise, the sf-25 was STRUGGLING on pace during the last 10 or so laps of the race. gr was gaining steadily, and we may have ended up P5. this is not an indictment of charles’s strategy - it’s an indictment of this terrible fucking car that makes me nauseous every time i watch his onboards

NICO HULKENBERG P5 KING. literally no notes, it was an incredible race for sauber and nico especially really showed his skills. up ~10 places by the end of the race.

lewis…i don’t even know how to feel about lewis’s race other than sad. he had a rough start, and it’s not even like he drove a bad race per se. i still have to go back and watch his onboards but he was so dejected in the aftermath of the race that i really seriously feel for him.

gax drama went insane during this race. okay first of all pitting max during the safety car just for the sake of pitting him and putting him on HARDS??? red bull disasterclass for sure. i understand max’s frustration with that, especially given how the hards were so rough during the free practices. he did his best on those hards…and he probably could have ended P5 if it weren’t for the stuff with russell george. initially from the angle i thought george had banged into max pretty egregiously but it turned out max was the one who initially moved like he was giving the position back to george and ended up making pretty significant contact. there wasn’t much damage done (except that my king got out of danger and into p3 go charles). and this brought the simmering gax tension back to new heights with max getting lambasted by sky sports and george pulling out the disappointed mom card. all i can say is…i support all my drivers in their rights and their wrongs, and more than one is at play here

uh somehow when people weren’t looking ferrari became-for now-P2 in the constructor’s (our car is SLOWER THAN A FUCKING SAUBER)

let’s go back to that: i just wanna hammer home for the tifosi that we basically got overtaken by mattia binotto in a dump truck today (nico is an extremely gifted and wonderful driver who deserves the world this is not targeted at him he outdrove the car by a lot today)

kimi my baby :(

alex albon my sweetheart :(

lance stroll driving since jeddah in pain from his injury is so crazy. defending lance forever he does not deserve getting constantly doxxed like this he’s a good guy. hope i get to see him drive at montreal.

nico rosberg commentator of every race forever pls (put him on f1tv pls)

oh mclaren. god the td didn’t nerf anyone (except for maybe ferrari who sucked special today)

BUT SHOUTOUT TO MY GOAT OSCAR PIASTRI his post safety car restart was actually a masterclass - he drove a perfect weekend pretty much start to finish super proud of him and he dedicated his champagne signing to his sister edie :)))

i lowkey was not clocking lando much during this race i know he made up some time to try to make a play for p1 and it ultimately didn’t work out idk i feel like mclaren just lets the quali order decide their team orders which means the wdc this year is just gonna be a quali shootout lol

alonso points! yay.

isack hadjar stays quietly impressive i knew i loved you for a reason beloved rookie