#mercedes amg petronas Racing

[gentlyweeps-world]

Dogs and Pasta

summary: Going to the dog park you didn’t expect to get asked out on a date by an incredibly gorgeous and kind man, but you definitely didn’t expect him to be a Formula One driver.

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem! reader

warnings: sexual tension

words: 1711

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

“Hey..oh Lighting what..” You mumble out, finding your rather shy pit bull playing around with someone’s bulldog.

You watched with a smile as the two dogs play around, happy that your dog wasn’t being as shy. Then you felt a presence next to you, “Roscoe seems to be enjoying himself”, the person says.

You turn your head to see the most gorgeous man you have ever laid eyes on. “Oh..yeah! My dog, lighting, usually never plays with other dogs..it’s difficult to even get him to go to the dog park” You say with a smile, admiring the mystery man, but trying to make it obvious.

He lets out a laugh, and it honestly made your heart melt. “Well they definitely seem to be getting along well” He says with a chuckle, glancing over to you.

“I’m Lewis by the way..” He says, holding his hand out for you to shake, “I’m Y/n” You reply, shaking his hand with a smile.

“Since our dogs seem to get along so well, would you want to go out sometime?” He asks with a smile, which was absolutely gorgeous.

“Yeah sure I would love to!” You reply with a big smile, putting your number into his phone.

“Great!” Lewis replies with a smile. “I’ve been wanting to check out the new Italian restaurant. Maybe we could go this weekend?”

As you agree, he adds his number to your phone and leans back against the fence. Your dogs are still playing together, unaware of the electric chemistry between their pet parents.

“What’s your dogs name?” he asks, looking down at your pit bull. “His name is Lighting” You reply with a small smile

“Lightning, huh?” he says with a chuckle. “Why did you pick that name?”

As he talks, his gaze lands on Lightning for a moment before returning back to you. The sun is setting, making his brown eyes glow in the light. He seems genuinely interested in you, and you can’t help but feel fluttering in your stomach.

“Ah don’t laugh at me but I named him after Lighting McQueen” You say with a sheepish grin

“You named your dog after Cars?” he laughs. “No offense, but that’s adorable. I bet Lightning here is a lot faster than the real Lightning McQueen.”

Lightning, who looks up at the sound of his name, seems to agree with your new friend. The three of you share a laugh, and an uneasy feeling of attraction between you and Lewis seems to grow stronger by the second.

“Me?” he says, a bit flustered by your question. “Oh, I don’t know, I don’t really have anything too exciting to tell.”

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other as he thinks of what to tell you. His dimples are adorable as they come out when he smiles.

“I work with cars” He says, not seeming to give away too much with what he actually does, but in all fairness you didn’t know who he was. You didn’t know he was actually knighted, or a seven (eight) time world champion in Formula One.

“Staying mysterious…” You tease with a smile, “I work in finance, I’m lucky enough to be able to work online” You add on.

“Ah I’m not that lucky, I’m usually always out and about” He says, a sense of mischief in his eyes.

“So why did you name your dog Lighting?” He asks, seeming to try to get more of an answer out of you, probably trying to figure out if you truly knew who he was.

“Oh my nephew named him that, I’ve watched the movie a few times, it’s good” You say with a laugh, “I haven’t watched the second or third one, although I really should”

“We could together sometime..” He says with a grin, checking you up and down slowly, letting his eyes drag up your body.

“We’ll see how the first date goes, then maybe you’ll get lucky” You flirt back with a smirk.

He chuckles at that, a glint in his eye. “Of course..” He says with a grin.

You let out a nervous chuckle, leaning off of the fence you say, “Well it was great meeting you Lewis, I’ll see you this weekend” You say with a smile, calling Lighting over to you.

Lighting runs up to you, hooking him onto his leash you give Lewis one more smile, then bend down to pet Roscoe.

“I’ll text you the time I’ll pick you up” He says, watching you with a smile.

“Shit” You mumble out to yourself, throwing your phone on your bed you rush around your small apartment, styling your hair, doing makeup and ultimately choosing a revealing yet flattering dress that suited you, and it was plain black, perfect to match Lewis.

Once it hits 6:10 your phone buzzes with a notification, quickly checking it you see Lewis asking which apartment number is yours and what floor, you text back the numbers and a few minutes later there's a knock at your door.

Lighting perks up at the sound of a knock, he doesn't bark but stares at the door expectantly. Letting out a nervous breath you open the door to see Lewis standing there with your favorite flowers, which he somehow knew, he wouldn't admit it but he did stalk your instagram on a burner account.

“Hey Y/n, you look gorgeous” He says with a smile, moving into your apartment. “You looked great too..” You reply, looking him up and down. He was dressed in a black baggy button up shirt and some baggy black dress pants. He looked good, really good.

“Oh! I can get those…I'll find a vase to put them in..” You say, realizing he was still holding the flowers, you quickly grab them from his hands and take care of them, putting them in a vase and setting them on your kitchen island.

You pat Lighting on the head then walk over to Lewis who was waiting near the door, “Ready to go?” He asks, placing his hand on your waist. “Yes, lets go”

He leads you down to his car, a hand still on your waist. You see a very nice and expensive looking Mercedes parked in the parking garage of your complex. “Wow…you must be pretty good with working on cars then!” You say with a laugh, walking with him towards his car.

“Yeah you could say that” He says with a chuckle, unlocking and opening the passenger side door for you. He gets into the drivers side and starts up the car, pulling out of his spot and heading to the restaurant.

“Oh this is a good song..” You mumble out, checking what song it is. “Yeah Christina Aguliera sings it, its called Pipe” Lewis says with a smirk, glancing over at you. “I like the guy's voice..” You add on, looking over at him you see a smirk painted on his lips, eyes focused on the road.

A few minutes pass, then you could feel his hand hesitantly hover over your thigh, you grab his hand and place it on your thigh, admiring his tattoos for a moment.

“You like them?” He asks out loud, startling you. “Yeah..yeah” You mumble. “I've got more” He says lowly, you could feel the energy in the car shift, taking in a slow breath, “I've always liked tattoos” You add on, looking over at him, finding his eyes already on yours with a smirk on his face.

“Good” He replies, squeezing your thigh.

Soon the car pulls up to the restaurant. He parks the car in a rather secluded spot and gets out to open your door.

“Thanks” You mumble out, taking his hand as he pulls you up from the car.

His arm is instantly wrapped around your waist again as he leads you towards the restaurant, your eyes widened. It looked expensive, like very expensive.

“Wow this place looks expensive!” You say with a nervous chuckle, he squeezes your waist. “Don’t worry about it, dinner is on my baby” Lewis says, giving you a warm smile.

You both walk into the restaurant and to the host stand, “Reservation for Hamilton” He says, smiling at the host.

“Right, you can follow me” The host says with a polite smile, leading you two to a quieter area in the restaurant.

Lewis pulls your chair out for you, then he sits in his. He grabs the menu and looks through it, “Order anything by the way, I mean it when I say it’s on me” He says with another smile, “Thank you” You reply, admiring his eyes in the dim lighting.

A waitress comes by and asks for your order. Lewis orders a vegan carbonara dish while you order the chicken alfredo. Time passes and you both talk, laugh and eat your food.

As you and Lewis were talking about some movies, a random guy walks up and looks towards Lewis, “Hey uh, sorry to bother you but could I get a picture? I'm a huge fan!”, the guy says with a smile, phone in hand.

“Sure mate!” Lewis says with a smile, quickly taking a picture with the guy.

“So….I’m assuming you don't just work on cars?” You ask, raising your eyebrow at Lewis. He chuckles a bit at the question, “I'm a Formula One driver for Mercedes, Lewis Hamilton” He says with a nervous smile, “I didn't want to scare you off, its difficult dating”

“Wait- do you mind if I google you?” You ask with a sheepish smile, “Go ahead, I’d love to see what google says about me” Lewis says with a laugh.

You pull your phone out of your wallet and search his name into google, reading the results, your eyes widened. “So you're Mr. Popular?” You ask with a laugh, putting your phone away.

“Yeah..yeah I guess I am” He says with a chuckle. You lean in towards him from across the table, resting your head in your hand, you give him a reassuring smile, “So Lewis, tell me about yourself, not the Formula driver, but you”

He smiles at your question, “How would you like to go for a second date sometime next week?”

“That sounds lovely”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

radio 🪩: Loved making this one, I wouldn’t be against making a second part! Let me know what you guys think. Once again I am taking requests!💙

[aquamarinemoonlit]

we found the burner account

[formulawolff]

i. alkaline - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 2.7k

warnings: cursing, significant age-gap, power imbalances, slow burn, eventual smut, inappropriate work relationships, mentions of infidelity, drug/alcohol use, use of common fic tropes

synopsis: as the first american female driver for formula one, you are thrust into the competitive world of racing. when you are approached by a team principal willing to make a deal, you presented with the opportunity of a lifetime.

author's note: this is my first f1 related fic, so i may have made some errors in terminology. the title is based on the song alkaline by sleep token. i recommend listening while reading! please, please, please let me know if you like the fic! i plan on making this my first f1 series :')

racing was never in the cards. 

well, racing a nearly 1,800 pound car was never in the cards. 

especially at speeds reaching two hundred miles an hour. 

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

yet, here you were, shaking james’ hand, beaming as the cameras flashed. there were a flurry of voices, all of them nearly trembling with excitement, relief, and well, hope. if you were able to accomplish eighth place today, what did that mean for the future of williams racing? 

would williams be a sizable contender for the 2025 constructors’ championship? would they be able to squash the disbelief? the doubts? hell, if you kept this up, there was a chance that you could get williams into the top ten of the 2024 championship. 

were you what they had been missing for so long? 

were you the key to their future success?

“great job,” james’ voice is nearly hoarse, more than likely from all of the celebration, “you wouldn’t believe what they’re saying about you.” 

“probably nothing great,” you scoff, rolling your eyes slightly, “i’m sure that everyone is claiming i didn’t deserve it.” 

“quite the contrary,” a chuckle bubbles up from his throat, “they all adore you.” 

“was it because i gave the camera the finger?” 

“no,” there is a slight twinkle in his eyes, quite the contrary from what you were used to, “they love you because you’re you. there is no one in this sport who is quite like you.

there’s an authenticity that cannot be replaced. it’s obvious you have a true passion for racing. it shows on the track. good job, today.” 

heat flourished into your cheeks, tears welling up at james’ words. after years of being ridiculed by team principals, attacked by fans, and bashed by the media, praise was something to be cherished. it was always welcomed warmly, your heart swelling as james brought you in for a sweaty embrace. 

“thank you, james,” the words are slightly muffled as he squeezes you gently, “you know how much that means to me. thank you for believing in me.”

“of course,” james murmurs, rubbing your back ever so slightly, “great job, american girl. you deserve this. go do some interviews, flash that beautiful grin of yours, and then get some rest. you need it.”

“no partying?” you arch your brow, “i think i deserve a drink or two.”

“maybe a little bit,” another chuckle rings out, “i just don’t want to see any press about it in the morning. that’s the last thing we need after our victory today.”

“right, right,” you nod your head, saluting the principal, “aye, aye captain.”

“it’s principal,” james shoots you a wink before turning to several engineers, the group getting swept away into the chaos. 

no matter how well the team did, there was always chaos after a race. it was typical, routine even. there was always the pit crew cleaning up, shouting to one another as the fans trickled out of the stands. engineers milled about, tablets in hand, murmuring to one another, pointing out aspects of the car that needed improvement. there was always some piece of the car that could be adjusted, a slight tweak or advancement. it could make the car faster, or it could only lead to inevitable disaster. 

exhaling, you stroll out of the paddock, the dread of facing the press weighing down every step. 

you could turn around, and hide in the paddock. 

however, this was part of being a driver. simply a requirement of the job. press was an essential aspect of formula one. how else would the world know how you felt after that race? how else would information about driver contracts, car modifications, disqualifications be shared?

how else would the world have known about the first american female formula in formula one?  

you had to at least thank the press for that. 

even if it was shared before your official announcement that you were joining williams racing for the 2023 racing season. 

“there she is!” a voice calls out, light and airy. 

the corners of your lips tug into a smile as you see daniel ricciardo jogging towards you. before you know it, his arms are wrapping around your frame, holding you tight. he’s sweaty, per usual, but you accept the gesture, suppressing a giggle as he sways you back and forth. 

“i knew you could do it! i knew you could do it!”

“don’t puncture her lungs, please,” another voice chimes in, “i would like to keep her around, you know.”

daniel releases you promptly, placing a swift peck on your cheek, “no need to fret alex. i’m not that mighty.”

“i’m more worried about contracting any diseases from the land down under,” scrunching your nose, you wave your fingers at daniel, earning yet another laugh from the australian. 

“the only disease you’d contract are my insanely good looks.”

“here we go again,” alex rolls his eyes, “are we ready to face the press or what?”

“i think so,” daniel shrugs, “go ahead, alex. we’ll follow you.”

alex shoots you an inquiring glance, but begins to walk in the direction of the conference room. once he was a reasonable distance away, daniel clears his throat. 

“someone seemed a little jealous.”

“i wouldn’t say jealous,” you can’t help but defend alex, “he’s probably a little bitter.”

“fifteenth place is nowhere as good as eighth,” daniel points out, the notes in his tone solemn, “he’s been there a few years and seen subpar results. you came in last year and have pretty damn good ones. i’m sure he can’t help but feel a little bit of envy.” 

“maybe he just had a bad race.”

“you say that every–” daniel begins, but he’s swiftly cut off as you pull open the door to the conference room. 

all around, cameras flash, reporters chirp out questions, and phones are immediately pointed in your direction. sucking in a deep breath, you settle on the couch next to daniel, max verstappen across from you. he shoots you a thumbs up, complemented with a wide smile. alex was on your right, fiddling a loose thread. 

confusion consumes you momentarily once you realize that max was the only one from the podium to remain in the conference room. checo and carlos were not present. so why was he still here? 

daniel passes you the mic, placing it on your lap. a shit-eating grin plasters his face, and you grimace. of course he was going to make you speak first. hesitantly, you pick up the mic, clearing your throat. 

“hello, everyone. any questions?”

immediately a reporter butts in, “how does it feel to not only be one of the only women competing in formula one, but the first american woman to place in a race?”

your hand tingles as you hold up the mic, trembling slightly. public speaking was never your forte. fuck you, daniel. 

“w-well,” you curse yourself for stuttering, “i take a lot of pride in the way i compete, especially as such a trailblazer for women who love the sport. i’m aware that there is a lot of unrest and outcry concerning my gender and how i’m not ‘supposed’ to be competing with the men–”

“i think she’s a worthy opponent,” max’s voice interjects, “she competes at the same intensity as we do, if not more. she is going to be standing next to me on a podium in a matter of weeks. i’ve never met someone so driven to win or passionate about the sport. 

we pay no attention to her gender. it doesn’t affect us. we pay attention to her character. i do not want to speak for her, but i am sure she would appreciate it if you all refrained from the gender based questions. ask her about the race.”

as he finishes speaking, his eyes drift back to you, sparkling ever so slightly. his cheeks were tinged a pink hue from the passionate sentiment, and you couldn’t help but just sit there, frozen with disbelief. 

max verstappen, three time world champion, one of the best drivers to ever step foot on a formula one track, publicly praised you. in a room full of journalists, no less. 

sure, you were friendly with max. since there were only twenty drivers, most of you were close, on and off the grid. you had exchanged numerous conversations with max over the last year, but you were still a little intimidated by the dutch driver. 

of course, who wouldn’t be? he was a dominant force on the track, winning nineteen of the twenty-two races last season. 

so yeah, when he just did nothing but send you the uttermost praise in a room bustling with the press, you were going to a little starstruck.

“do you have any additional remarks to maxs’ comments?” a reporter snaps you out of your trance, “you appear to be a little off-put by what he just said.”

blinking, you bring the mic to your lips, “no, i actually appreciate what he said. maybe that means you guys will finally take me seriously.”

“are you under the impression that formula one does not take you seriously?”

as the reporter baits you to respond, a twinge of frustration brews in your stomach, churning it into a knot. sucking in a sharp breath, you focus your attention to the reporter. 

“no, that is not what i said. it is the simple fact that i have been working my ass off this last year to be a competitive racer. i’ve worked tirelessly with williams racing to place. i’ve been trying to earn points for my team because i believe in my team and i want us to succeed. yet nearly every day i wake up, someone on social media posts some bullshit or bashes me for competing. 

i’ve been making a name for myself, and look where it has gotten me. you all are more concerned about my gender than the race i just had. i think it’s a bit frivolous to be more invested in my gender than my racing. so yeah, when the three time world champion says something good about me, i would hope that you guys listen to it.”

there’s a few gasps from a few reporters, and you can’t help but notice all of the beady red lights on the cameras. of course that was all recorded. of course it was going to be blasted all over social media these next couple of days. 

so much for good press. 

setting down the mic, you lean over to daniel. the words are low enough so that only he can hear, “i’m done here.”

“i don’t blame you,” the aussie plucks the mic out of your hands, “get out of here. cool down. i’m sorry about that prick.”

“don’t worry about it,” you mutter, cheeks burning hot with sheer anger, “i’m leaving before i cuss them all out.”

“atta girl,” daniel winks, “i’d like to see that, though.”

“not now,” you bite your lip, “i need to bite my tongue.”

as you get up, max’s gaze is full of sympathy. alex’s mouths, i’m so sorry, disappointment painting his features. walking across the stage, daniel’s words drown in your ears. 

balling your fists together, the tingly sensation resides as you march towards your motorhome. tears blur your vision, strings of curses filling the air as you walk. after that little incident in the press room, james was not going to be happy. of course, after everything you accomplished today, it was diminished somehow. 

by an asshole reporter, at that. 

flinging open the door to the motorhome, you resist the urge to just scream. it would not help much, but god would it be cathartic. however, there were more important things to be addressed. you needed to decompress and settle down. 

as much as you wanted to celebrate with a few drinks, a shower, some comfy clothes, and your bed were more appealing. 

maybe a glass of wine in bed wouldn’t hurt. 

as you unzip your fire suit, a knock at the door disturbs the silence. 

shit. just as you were finally getting settled. 

groaning, you spin on your heel, making your way to the door. 

“daniel, i swear to fucking god. i don’t want to talk right now–”

however, it was not daniel standing at the entrance of your motorhome. 

before you was torger wolff, also known as toto wolff, team principal of mercedes-amg petronas. 

donning a white team button-up, the sleeves were rolled to his elbows, showcasing his muscular build. inky black slacks were on his lower half, making him appear taller than he already was. fluffy brunette hair stood up on nearly all ends, messy from the stress and chaos of the race.

however, there was no denying he was handsome. with sharp, angular features, and wrinkles scoured in his face over the years, it gave him a powerful yet stoic aura. 

like his name suggested, he was like a wolf, poised and eager to pounce.

yet, you were more focused on his eyes. a brilliant, warm, mocha-hued gaze framed by thick, dark lashes. and they were peering right at you, taking in the sight of you in your half-zipped fire suit, a black long sleeve underneath. 

your eyes widen, a hand covering your mouth. sheer embarrassment courses through you, heat flooding your cheeks, trickling down your neck, “i – oh my god. um, oh my god, i am so fucking sorry.”

clearing his throat, he arches a brow, “did i come at a bad time?”

“no,” you shake your head, perhaps a little quickly, “no, no, no. please, come in. how rude of me.”

there is no readable expression across the austrian’s features, his lips pucking ever so slightly, “it won’t be long, i promise.”

swallowing a lump in your throat, you step back, inviting the principal in to the motorhome. you lead him to the kitchen, gesturing to a barstool, “you can sit here if you’d like.”

he glances at the stool, yet does not sit. your brows furrow as he remains standing. leaning against a counter, you fold your arms across your chest. 

“is there a reason you stopped by?”

“as you know,” toto begins, “lewis is leaving mercedes after the 2024 season. he will be joining ferrari in 2025. to put it simply, i am on the hunt for my second driver.”

your lips purse, “i’m not sure why you came to me. you would have better luck with carlos. he’s looking for a team. i made a verbal commitment to james. i’ll be staying with williams through 2026.”

“is that so?” toto inquires, taking a step towards you, “and why are you choosing to stay with a team that limits your potential?”

the question takes you aback, “i’m not sure you what mean.”

rolling his eyes, he tuts, “williams racing is nowhere as near as competitive of a team as ferrari, redbull, mclaren, or mercedes. for years they’ve been piddling around, finishing at the bottom of the championship. yes, their drivers are talented, but they are not given opportunities to thrive.”

his comment sends another wave of anger coursing through you, your fists balling at your sides, “you have no idea what you’re talking about–”

“actually, i do. i’ve been around a long time. i’ve seen a lot more than you ever have. james is a great team principal, but you are not going to compete if you stay at williams. eventually, you’ll be like alex. you’ll finish with mediocre results. you’ll lose faith in the team who you once cherished so deeply. you’ll be ridiculed even more by the world of formula one, even more so than you already are.”

gritting your teeth, you take a step forward, “i think it’s time for you to leave.”

“what?” toto cocks his head, “did i say something you didn’t want to hear, little dove? did i strike a chord?”

“i think you’re just projecting,” you maintain your composure as the principal scoffs, “that’s exactly what happened to lewis, and you’re afraid it’s going to happen to george.”

“you’re a smart girl,” it takes a moment for you to realize how close the two of you had suddenly gotten.

he was in very close proximity now, only a few inches apart, looking down at you with a wickedly smug grin, “and i know that you’re very aware that formula one is a business. i have to maintain the mercedes reputation and acquire a driver who will bring us home podiums.” 

“i think you’ll have that luck with carlos,” breaking away, your gaze settles on the door of the motorhome. 

fingers grasp your chin, tilting your head upwards. 

“but i want you to drive for mercedes. i want to make you a world champion.”

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please let me know if you would like to be tagged! thank you for reading! <3

[natailiatulls07]

Could you please do the drivers reaction to driver reader bringing a boy to the race?

Formula one grid x female!driver!reader Male!OC x female!driver!reader

Summary - Being youngest on the grid meant that Y/n was heavily protected by many other drivers so when she gets a partner it's mixed emotions all around

Warning - Small anxiety

Reader drives for Mercedes

Part two

-

"Are you sure? I know that some of the fans can be a little crazy about my private life..." In the past few months, Y/n had started a relationship with a guy she matched with on tinder. Not many people knew of the relationship, only her family and her management team.

Although that would change today, it was the first race of the season and they had wanted to hard launch their relationship. Adam, her new partner, was a lawyer and had his own wealth behind him but he was really proud of Y/n and loved to support her.

He could tell how nervous she was, seeing how she kept fidgeting with her hair and teamwear. "Hey, it's okay. Plus if any thing happens and you have to take legal action, you have a great lawyer on your side" He would often use humour to calm down his f1 driver girlfriend, loved to bring even the smallest of smiles to her face.

Adam took hold her hand, stopping her from fidgeting so much and started to drag her to the paddock entrance where fans stood behind barriers waiting to catch a glimpse of a driver.

-

As they began to walk past the barriers, fans were shouting her name and some were asking questions about the man who held her hand. They both had proud and confident smiles painted on their faces, any anxiety seemingly disappeared.

"Y/n! Y/n! Is that your new partner?"

Nodding her head, Y/n stopped to sign some merch and greet some fans. "Yes, yeah he is. Meet Adam" Looking over her shoulder, she felt how Adam had his hands gently resting on her waist. They were both very big on pda.

Thankfully the fans had reacted well to the new face. Some softly threatening Adam not to hurt their favourite driver, which got a laugh out of Y/n and some fear out of Adam.

Soon they started toward the main entrance of the paddock, waving goodbye to the fans and individually scanning their passes. Yet as soon as Y/n set foot into the paddock, dread and anxiety plagued her mind once again.

Only now remembering that she'd have to introduce Adam to her fellow drivers, her adopted big brothers. If today weren't such an important day, she would've turned around and made her way home. Procrastinating the eventual doom.

As usual, the man still held her hand in his could sense her fear. And he knew exactly why. "Look I know I have never meet them and I know that they very protective of you but I'll try my best to earn their approval, I promise..." He coached her to take a deep breath but pulling her forward to continue the walk.

They were passing by the Ferrari hospitality area when we heard a loud shout before some softly running of feet. "Disculpe! Y/n!" A strong spanish accent mde itself known behind the new couple.

Whilst Y/n tensed, Adam turned around fully with a confident smile. "Hi you must be Carlos right? It's lovely to meet you" He started a positive conversation, only to be met with a glare and scowl from Carlos.

"Yes, that's me. And who are you?" The spanish driver snapped back, snatching Y/n's arm and pulling her away from her partner. "What do you want from Y/n?"

Taking her arm back out of his grasp, Y/n moved back to Adams side with a sign.

She knew that the other drivers would be just as protective and some even more than Carlos. "Carlos..." Her voiced broke through the awkward silence that he created. "This is my new partner, Adam. You can chill out..."

All shoulders relaxed as she explained, a small guilty smile replaced the scowl on Carlos' face. Reaching out his hand towards Adam as both an apologie and a better introduction.

After a small conversation between the three, Y/n realised that the couple had to continue down the paddock. Saying goodbye to Carlos, the two were walking down to her team garage once again but were quick stopped once again.

This time by her old teammate and the reigning champion the grid. "Y/n, um who's this?" Unlike Carlos, Max was more shy and cautious rather than forward and hostile. Something Adam was thankful of.

"Hi I'm Adam, I'm Y/ns partner. It's nice to meet you, also I promise to take good care of Y/n..." After his last interaction with Carlos, Adam tried even harder to prove himself. "Please, I promise I love her a lot and-"

Max raised his hand to stop the ramble from the younger man. He had a small smile on his face, slightly amused by his fear. "It's okay, I don't doubt it. I'm sure you'll prove yourself over the next couple of weeks..."

Giving Y/n a quick hug and Adam a pat on the shoulder, Max told them that he had an important meeting to attend and he'll see them around.

-

Finally they arrived at the Mercedes hospitality and when they first entered, Adam eyes turned to the other driver in the room. Lewis, he was sat at one the table along with some of his management team.

Much like Adam, Lewis immediately noticed their presence in the room and beckoned them over to him.

"Hi Lulu!" Y/n quicking moving to give her beloved teammate a hug before moving back to her partners side. "Lulu meet Adam, he's my partner and Adam meet Lulu, my teammate."

Unlike the other two drivers, Lewis had a reassuring smile on his face whilst getting up from his seat to give Adam strong handshake. "Well it's nice to meet you Adam, I assume you'll take good care of that crazy women right there. I wish you the best"

It was short and simple but it meant a lot to Adam. Immediately he felt approved by a legend in the sport and by someone who Y/n considered a father figure.

"Thank you, I'll take good care of her"

-

>Seb! -Seb!!! -SEB OMG I HAVE NEWS!!! >What?! >It's about Y/n!! >Well go on tell me!!!!! >She has a partner! -His name is Adam and tbh I can see them getting married!!! >THATS BOLD >IKR But it's true! -They're perfect for eachother!!! >I need to meet him first and approve him first before they can even think about engagements >Ofc ofc

-

[bad268]

I remember you said you’d be so down if clingy Kimi became a series so here’s another “clingy” kimi request.

Kimi antonelli w a short reader. (She’s not short she’s just average size but he’s not convinced).

He’s picking her up any chance he gets to, he’s kissing her forehead and treating her like a stuffed animal. His behavior is prominent during f2 when Kimi gets a DNF coz something went wrong w the car. When he gets to the garage, he rushes to look for reader and when he finds her he’s picking her up and making a beeline to drivers room for a cuddle and reassurance.

"Average" (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Short-ish! Reader)

Clingy Antonelli Universe (can be read as a stand-alone)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (I didn't make being short a plot, but it's there lol)

Warnings: None

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1053

Summary: Kimi needed some reassurance after that race (and you're never leaving his side).

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Immediately after the race, it was like you could not get a second to yourself. It was normal to you, but for some reason, this race brought out a whole different level of cling out of Kimi. 

This DNF was not something he needed when he was in the title fight. However, it was only the sprint race! He would be starting on the front row for the feature race. Still, it was not fun to have to retire when your breaks start smoking in any situation.

You knew as soon as you saw that Kimi’s car was smoking that you were not going to have any personal space for the foreseeable future. It was not something that happened a lot, but when it did, you had no objections. 

He made his way out of the car after parking up in the garage, so the mechanics could get started on it and hopefully, fix the brakes before the feature race. Immediately after his helmet and balaclava were off, he was searching for you. You were not standing in your normal spot in the back of the garage, so he had to do a little bit of searching.

It did not take too long as he found you standing with Toto and Susie at the pit wall. He walked straight up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he listened to a couple of his team talk about the plan for tomorrow. Eventually, you could feel him getting restless just standing there, listening to all of the things that went wrong and what he would need to be aware of tomorrow. You subtly gave a look to Antoine, and he immediately caught on, letting you two go. That’s when Kimi turned his attention to Toto and Susie. 

“I’ll do better tomorrow, I swear,” Kimi sighed as he looked at them and fidgeted with his (and your) hands. 

“That’s not necessary, Kimi,” Toto said immediately, “It’s not your fault. It’ll be fixed for tomorrow, and we’ll get to see your real potential then.”

“Thank you,” He smiled as he turned to you. “I think now’s a good time to head out, right?”

You nodded, knowing what was next. He placed his arms on the back of your thighs, and he prompted you to jump into his arms. The team was used to it at this point, having been witnesses to this earlier in the season, but you had long since cared about their thoughts of it. You would do anything to make Kimi feel better, and if being as close to you as physically possible made that happen, you would not stand in his way.

He carried you back to his driver’s room. It was a ritual at this point. He would retire the car, pick you up, and then you two would hide away in his driver’s room and watch a show or movie until the race was over. 

He set you down on the couch before going off to take a shower and change while you took out your laptop. It was always the same movie that cheered him up, so you queued it up while you moved to grab a water and snack.

Of course, Kimi. being the taller mf he is, put all of your favorite snacks on the top shelf. And sure, you could get a chair and grab them yourself, but you heard the shower turn off. It would take longer to find a chair, grab the food, get down, and put the chair away than it would to just wait for Kimi to grab them for you.

It did not take long for him to come out of the bathroom, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He was also holding a Prema hoodie, but you knew he would give it to you. You just stood by the shelves of snacks, pouting and waiting for Kimi to notice you. He set the hoodie on the couch before he saw where you were standing.

“Are you too short to reach?” He chuckled lightly as he slowly walked over to you, easily grabbing the snacks from over your head.

“I’m not short,” You groaned as you wrapped your arms around his waist as he grabbed the snacks. “I’m average. You’re just tall.”

“Pff, ‘average’,” he tsked as he shook his head, “Whatever helps you get by.” He then turned to wrapping one arm under your arms to lift you up and carry you to the couch. He set you down, helping put the hoodie over your head. Then, he went to grab all of the snacks to put them on the coffee table. Kimi laid down behind you and pulled you down to lay on his chest. “Is this okay?”

“If it makes you feel better, it’s perfect,” You whispered as you placed a small kiss on his jaw before resting your head on his chest and carding your fingers through his hair. “You know tomorrow will be better right?”

“Yeah,” He sighed as he fidgeted with the hem of your (his) hoodie. “It just sucks when the head of your future team is watching you retire the car and there is nothing you can do about it.”

“You may not be able to do anything about it now, but what you told the team will help them solve the problem for the feature. You’re on the front row tomorrow, and everyone knows that P2 has the best line into turn 1. It’s better the car retired for the sprint race.”

“You’re right, when are you not?” He laughed as he planted a kiss on your forehead before leaning forward to press play on the movie. “Seems like you always know what to say in these kinds of things.”

“I just know you, and what makes you feel better,” You chuckled with him. “Plus, deep down, you know that it wasn’t your fault. And you know that tomorrow will be better. I’ll be there for your prerace ritual, so no bad luck for the feature race.”

“You’re not leaving my side ever again,” He teased as he held you tighter against his body. “At least, during a race weekend. I’ll carry you around if I have to.”

“You already do, so it wouldn’t be any different.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[slutforpringles]

Great start to the 2026 regs by the FIA

[lunawolf444]

Best shoot ever! 📸

[saintescuderia]

pancakes (pt. 7)

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

series masterlist here :) // the pancakes recipe here :)

A/N: here we are! and CHARLES WON MONACO! (also sorry for the lance slander RPM influences me far too much)

P7 - 2.5L water bottle

"Oh for fuck's sake."

The lyrics rapping over the Metro Boomin beat were cut off as you turned off your engine. You huffed spotting the asshole in green getting out of the Aston Martin in front of you.

Mother fucking Lance Stroll.

Stroll got on your every nerve from the fact that he, as a paid driver, was the epitome of what you hated about F1 and the cash is king nature of the sport. It didn't help your opinion of him that his treatment of the Hospitality workers was very telling of his personality (i.e a spoiled little bitch) - but he also treated the rest of Aston Martin like that.

His engineers he bossed around. His PR team he bossed around. His fucking team principle he bossed around. You had never ever seen a driver be able to literally pick and choose what Media they wanted to do until Lance Stroll. Not even Räikkönen had gotten away with things that way Stroll did.

The worst part of it all, though, was that Lance's attitude of I can do whatever I want meant that he really thought he could get any girl he wanted.

Namely - you.

Your Supra wasn't exactly inconspicuous and Lance had (unfortunately) been in F1 long enough to make the connection that the flash JDM car parked in the lot tended to belong to you. And even though your windows were tinted a few shades darker than legal limit, Lance was getting out of the car right next to you. There was no chance he didn't know that it was you.

If anything, he likely made his driver park next to your Supra on purpose.

"Lord give me strength." You muttered seeing him come up to your window.

But then Lance Stroll had the fucking audacity to tap on your window.

You immediately reached for the handle and opened the door which caused him to stumble for the lack of space as you did so. "Oh, woah! Hey!" The Canadian accent pissed you off for no other reason than it reminded you of Drake. Someone else you fucking despised.

"Don't touch my car." You said, voice flat.

"Oh, er. My bad. Nice looking ride."

"Thanks." You said curtly, internally cringing at how he said 'ride' like that. You went around and grabbed the vast array of things you always hauled with you. Said items for today consisted of your gym bag, your workbag, your lunch bag and your comically large 2.5L water bottle. You always were carrying a lot.

"Need help?"

"No."

"I insist."

"Don't."

"Why you always gotta play hard to get?"

You said nothing, forcefully biting your tongue. You were out of practice with Lance Stroll's shit since Domenicali had finally relented and cut the amount of shifts you would be rostered on Aston Martin. Which had been a shame since the crew were quite nice and you really taking the piss with Nando.

Still, Lance Stroll was insufferable - and you were evidently out of practice dealing with his spoiled delusions. You were just glad his father wasn't around. God help you when it came to the European races.

"I have to get to work." You said and locked your car. There was a call from behind where some Aston Martin people were waiting Lance but he ignored them. Instead, falling into step with you.

"I don't see you around Aston Martin anymore." He said, trying to make conversation.

You kept ignoring him, hoping he'd get the hint. Pulling out your phone, you started to compose a to text to Oscar. He would coming here with Lily and had said something about finally introducing the two of you. Your eyes checked the time at the top of your phone screen. Based on what time it was, Oscar should've been here by now - and could save you from Lance Stroll.

to: piazzas 👼

where the fuck are u ?? lance stroll is trying to talk to me send help

"I don't know." Was all you said, typing away with one hand as the other held a bag, hoodie, bottle and lanyard. You lifted the arm to tap in through the gate and then continued to ignore Lance - who continued to walk beside you and speak.

"That wouldn't be because you're working for McLaren." Lance said. This made you fingers pause as the blatant comment caught you off-guard. You sucked your teeth and took a deep breath. You adjusted your grip on your bags and continued to type another message.

to: piazzas 👼

srsly im gonna fucking rage at this point

"I don't know what you're on about." You said and felt relief seeing the Read time-stamp arrive below your sent message and three dots finally pop up as Oscar typed a response.

Lance made that irritating sound - his laugh. "You know my dad will pay you double what they're paying."

from: piazzas 👼

I'm at the McLaren motorhome. In a meeting with some PR. Can you come?

You huffed and pocketed your phone. Your shift was at Ferrari today and so there was no logical reason for you to walk into McLaren. Then again, it was early and you were yet to get dressed. It should be okay. People rarely noticed you since you looked like some random trainer with the amount of stuff you always carried.

Except, right now, Lance Stroll was not getting the hint and pissing off. Meaning you couldn't exactly freely walk into McLaren no questions asked.

Especially after that comment about you working for McLaren.

"What do you say?" The annoying idiot stood there, still waiting on you apparently.

"What?" You asked, shifting the items in your hand and pausing in your steps. You were in front of Ferrari right now and considered going in to dump your stuff before sneaking off to McLaren. That would at least get rid of Lance.

"Just say the number. How much. Dad wants you onboard and so do I. And all that legal stuff we can sort out." Lance said with a nonchalant shrug that pissed you off more than it should've. "My trainer isn't really working for me anyway."

You stared at him. Was he being serious right now? Your mouth fell open at the audacity and you glanced at his manager behind him who was looking up at the sky, clearly uncomfortable.

But, of course, unable to say anything.

"Ah, Stroll! Mademoiselle is with us today!" You turned your head to the French accent of your other favourite Team Principle. Fred Vasseur arrived with one half of the Scuderia drivers beside him. Your eyes widened on the sight of Carlos there, sunglasses pushed up in the head of hair that had its own fan-accounts and was the star of many, many Tiktok thirst edits.

Fuck.

Last night, your uncle had thrown you for a loop. Carlos Sainz had somehow infiltrated your uncle's sphere with a video of him refusing to sign a Barcelona jersey.

This, your uncle took as a good omen and a worth his approval.

"Approval for what?"

"None of these drivers are worth your time. But this one seems good." Your uncle's voice had sounded through the speaker function of your phone as you balanced a ball on your head. Last night you had present for his usual call to his sister and Dia was adamant you cop it.

And cop it you did. His newest idea was not Jude or Vinicius - but apparently Carlos Sainz.

"What? Because Carlos didn't sign a Messi jersey?"

"His name is Carlos?" Your uncle had asked and you had, in turn, just groaned. You half expected him to make some ridiculous comment about the similar names being a good omen or something.

"Yeah. Carlos Sainz."

"Sainz? Hm." There was a short pause from your uncle. "Is his father a rally driver?"

"Yes." You had frowned, not expecting that.

"Ah! I know him. Good family."

"What?" You said, still stuck on how your uncle knew the Sainz family. "How do you know him?"

"Why didn't you tell me about him before?"

"Because... I never noticed Carlos." The football you had been kicking slowed as you found yourself frowning at the phone on the kitchen table. "It's... I don't know. It's just Carlos."

"I want you to talk to him. To 'Just Carlos' as you say." Your uncle was not relenting. "Go have dinner together. He has a good face."

Your uncle's attempts to get you married to what he deemed was a 'respectable man' and not, in his opinion, 'some limpy Frenchman' (you would often remind him Charles was from Monaco nor was it was like that between you two) or 'some tatted up Australian wanna be Italian' (you would also remind that Daniel barely identified as Italian). However, all of your uncle Carlo's options had always been footballers which, you and Dia knew, was just a ploy to move you from car circuits to football pitches.

But last night, you found, Carlos Sainz apparently had the Ancelotti tick of approval and he was adamant you and Carlos apparently go out for dinner.

You took your uncle's comments to be why you suddenly found yourself feeling a little awkward seeing the driver in the flesh. The on you admittedly never paid much attention to before.

"Maybe next race you can have her." The Spanish driver - who apparently had your uncle's approval - said. Carlos took a sip from the small coffee cup in hand. He was on his piccolo, you noted.

Carlos came up to you and you felt yourself caught out and taken aback by him openly reaching for the strap of your gym bag and your bottle, prying them for your hands. The surprise had you letting go and once Carlos had a grip on them, he nodded at everyone in green. "See you guys on track." And put a hand on your back to guide you into the home. His clear dismissal towards Lance made you smile and it made your face warm up even more.

Your smile dropped.

What the fuck?

"Um. Thank you." You said, once you were out of earshot.

"He's an idiot." Carlos said, with a tired sigh. This made you laugh.

"You're telling me."

It was then that you realised your laugh was nervous. You cleared your throat. You were going to rip into your uncle. And then yourself for being so stupid. Because this was stupid. You barely ever noticed Carlos. What? You find out he really hates Barcelona and has really, really great hair and suddenly you're tongue-tied around him?

"Ha. Yeah. I get that. And I can hold that." You went to reach for the strap of your bag on his shoulder. Carlos moved away.

"Don't insult me." He said, tsking you with a grin on his face. "Let's go. Fred spoke all morning about your pizzas."

"Yes! I did." Fred said, reappearing with his assistant who was handing him a paper he was half reading as he spoke. "Guenther didn't let me have any last time."

You couldn't but smile, remembering Guenther's loud curses echoing throughout all of Haas when he found you plating some aside for Fred. You gave Fred a salute. "I'll get right to it. Let me just dump my things in the backroom."

"I'll take them there." Carlos said, evidently not relenting. You sighed and let him carry them for you as you both made your way to the backroom.

Unfortunately, this meant walking through the entire motorhome in which case many Ferrari staff did a double take seeing you walk with Carlos. Whilst it wasn't uncommon to see you around, nor for you to have any interactions with drivers - you literally made their food and coffee - but Carlos was holding all your many, many belongings and walking to the small backroom that were reserved for Hospitality.

"Thank you." You said, appreciating the chivalry. What you didn't appreciate, however, was how your body was reacting to Carlos.

You didn't get why you were suddenly so... hyperaware around Carlos. Seeing driver content wasn't something new to you. Why did it affect you like this? Maybe addressing it would just help.

And so your mouth just came out with it.

"My uncle likes you."

"What?"

You quickly elaborated. "He saw a video of you refusing to sign a Barca jersey."

Your uncle had even sent you said video of Carlos, the driver windswept in his Ferrari, driving off when a fan passed him a pen and the jersey. You had to admit he did look good in the video and the way he drove off like that had made your eyebrows shoot up, impressed.

"Your uncle... Don Ancelotti?"

"Yeah." You said with a laugh at the name. The Don. You were proud of your uncle and what he achieved, earning him such a nickname. Dia always said her brother's intimidating Don cigar smoking aura had been passed down to you - and not his own children/your cousins.

You weren't surprised Carlos knew about who your uncle was. It wasn't exactly a secret. And considering the world of Formula 1, that wasn't even the craziest connection for someone working in the Paddock. An Alpine techie was distant cousins with Mbappé, a Haas mechanic was close cousins with LeBron, and Valentino Rossi's babysister's best friend's brother was a PR manager for George Russell.

So, no. No one really paid much attention to you and your uncle. The most it had ever come up was the odd few comments of the Paddock's EPL fans coming to you lamenting Carlo Ancelotti moving from Everton to Real Madrid.

"Woah, that's pretty cool." Carlos said, his eyes widening. "I definitely need to let my dad know."

"Apparently they know each other?" You asked, hoping he might shed more light on the connection your uncle somehow had to Sainz Sr. Your uncle hadn't managed to explain that curious bit.

"Do they? He never said." He said and you blew a raspberry. You really were going to give your uncle a piece of your mind. You shook your head and Carlos laughed, saying something that went to deaf ears as he took his sunglasses off his head - causing some strands to fall across his forehead as he was looking down at you.

Fuck.

He used the other hand to run through said black locks.

Double fuck.

The man seriously could've made it as a hair model.

You looked down from his hair to meet his eyes and felt yourself flush even more knowing he'd caught you staring at his hair. You cleared your throat again - when had it gotten so dry? - and spoke. "You um, you could really make bank doing hair endorsements, you know?"

"Bank?" Carlos asked, not picking up the slang.

"Money." You explained the slang and then thought of the Spanish translation. "El dinero."

"Ah, so was it the Don who taught you Spanish?" Carlos asked, lips turning up to grin.

"Nah I don't really speak Spanish." You shook your head and explained. "I just know that word from some from lyrics and stuff."

"Stuff? From living in Los Angeles?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. You blinked, surprised he knew that tidbit about you. "I remember you telling Max about it back in Torro Rosso."

Carlos' observational skills evidently had you in surprise. First it was him remembering your Egyptian heritage and now this?

"I, uh. Yeah for a year and a bit. I worked in a garage." You explained, feeling more awkward and, well, something else that you refused to acknowledge as nervousness.

You didn't get nervous. You had literally served countless celebrities and prided yourself on not getting starstruck or fucking nervous.

And yet, here was Carlos running a hand through his hair catching you off guard with how hyperaware you were of him.

"Ah." Carlos laughed and you stared at the way a thin gold chain glittered around his wrist. "Well, if you know any hair sponsors you'd recommend, let me know."

"Oh, yeah. Done." You said, going back to the previous conversation. "But I'm expecting a cut, then." You said, opening up a locker and beginning to stuff the bags into it. "Hoy por ti - "

" - mañana por mi." Carlos finished the phrase, amused. "It's different in Spanish, though, you know?"

"What is?"

"English you say scratch my back or something. In Spanish it's more about generosity. You take care of me so I will take care of you next."

"Oh." You said, taking in the mini Spanish lesson. Admittedly all your Spanish came from working with Tyler in the garage on Fairfax Ave and, of course, song lyrics. There had been a few funny conversations with Fernando - but nothing intimate such as I will take care of you.

You didn't really know what to say next. Your face was already flushed and you'd probably be able to cook something on your cheek from how hot it was.

You were going to kill your uncle. Real Madrid could win Champions League without him. And even if they didn't - well, Guenther would be happy to see another team finally have a chance.

"Also," Carlos casually continued, unfazed - or not noticing - your lull, "there's going to be a game tomorrow night. I'm not sure if you were planning to watch it."

Thankfully, his words momentarily did distract you from the inner monologue. Real Madrid wasn't playing this weekend. Atletico Madrid was.

Maybe it was Carlos being from Madrid or following the Spanish league religiously but, either way, it wasn't a game you had intended to watch.

"Oh, I mean I like Griezmann." You said, referring to the famed Atletico player, "but I don't watch La Liga games unless Real Madrid is playing." Besides, if you showed any interest in any other team, The Don would have your head. Your uncle still didn't know you owned a jersey of another team. Even if it was only for Mo Salah.

"No, the Liverpool game." Carlos corrected. "They're playing Manchester United, are they not?"

This was surprising. There had been no indication in the past of Carlos ever caring about any other team besides Real Madrid - let alone being that interested a whole other league. If you ever were going to talk EPL with a driver, it was probably a passing conversation with Lewis. Maybe George if the Wolves were involved. And that was when the drivers themselves initiated the conversation.

Max, and his love for your team's biggest rival Barcelona, was who you used to talk to about football, who you used to stay up and watch games or play Fifa with.

And since that was no more, you sort of lost any passion for it.

So this was very much news to you.

Carlos Sainz. Talking to you about EPL.

More than that - asking you if you were going to watch an EPL game.

"Uh, yeah maybe." You finally spoke. During your drive to work, you had vaguely thought about changing your schedule so as to be able to watch the game. You had played around with the idea of doing a workout after your shift tomorrow so you could stay up after qualifying and watch the match.

The only issue was that this would you mean you wouldn't be able to work out before the race on Sunday - and you were definitely going to be stressed working a whole weekend at Ferrari.

But if you watched it you could stream it on one of the TVs in the driver's gym - that way Oscar could workout with you also.

Suffice to say, you hadn't yet made up your mind.

"Lando and I were going to watch it. He's a fan of Manchester United." Carlos said, looking at you expectantly. "Don't worry, I won't tell the Don."

It was that look which made your eyes widen slightly, the thought suddenly dawning on you: was Carlos asking to watch the game together?

Something erupted in your stomach.

However, your reflex to any driver interaction had immediately kicked in.

"Oh, nice. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to watch it with the schedule. You guys enjoy, though."

Carlos opened his mouth but thankfully someone, a man dressed in the red uniform, appeared in the doorway calling for Carlos. The interruption was very much welcomed as the driver nodded and was resolved to leave you before your body gave you any more confusing signals.

You took a second, a steading second, before you slammed your locked shut and went out to look for Oscar.

“And there’s the young rookie, Oscar Piastri. Looking really good after his amazing win in Jeddah. 9th, outperforming everyone’s expectations!"

“Yes! He’s just arrived with his - is that his trainer?”

“She looks tough enough to be one. Wait is that — “

The commentators immediately realise and change the subject to something else to do with Fernando’s winning streak and Aston Martin’s upgrades. You sigh at the clip that had been playing on the TV in front of you where you could be seen handing him the Antinal Dia had been adamant Oscar have.

Zak had informed Oscar who had informed you about the conversations had between all the TPs about, well, you.

It was startling to say the least. 

"I'm afraid people are starting to catch on." Oscar's PR Manager said with a stern look as she stared at both you and Oscar. Her name was Sophie and despite her young age putting her in the same ball-park as you and Oscar... it still felt like you both were students in trouble, being told off by your teacher.

Oscar had asked you about a Sophie Wright a few months ago. You briefly knew of the girl from her interning days, following other PR members around the McLaren motorhome over the years. She was a little on the shorter side, the chubbier side and, unfortunately, these two appearance traits meant she was excluded from the other PR girls who definitely already had a group chat going.

However, you also knew this meant she would be good at her job. Sophie could blend in the background quietly, unnoticed and do her job well. You also doubted she would easily jump around for a better opportunity and do Oscar dirty. Then there was the fact that when you served her a skinny latte one time, she made sure to read your name badge and thank you with a genuine smile.

And so you had given Oscar the thumbs up.

Never, in a million years, did you think you would be here though. Getting a debrief from her as Sophie tapped on her iPad. You risked a glance at Oscar who looked indifferent and nonplussed.

"Sorry Soph," he said, "but I'm not exactly aware what this means exactly."

There was some noise at the door and in walked Zak Brown himself. He was still talking to someone outside in the hall and said a 'yep, bye!' and then finally turned to address the room he was halfway in. "Ah, here we are. Just the people I need to see." His eyes fell on you and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

"No trouble at all. I know you're friends with Oscar and just wanting to help him out." Zak said, coming to sit down. "Ah, so you've seen the clips." He looked at the TV where Sophie's iPad was still screensharing the clip from yesterday.

Thursday's media days was always the least loved day for everyone - save for the bloodthirsty journalists. Drivers hated all the mundane questions and the paranoia of microphones and cameras everywhere. And you hated media day because it meant extra long barista shifts.

"Yes, Sophie showed me before but I thought Tezza should see it." Oscar explained, using your nickname. Your heart warmed at how considerate that was. You met his eyes and smiled softly at him. Your love for the kid grew daily.

"Good thinking!" Zak said, nodding agreeably to his driver. You fought to keep your face passive as you regarded the McLaren CEO.

Your opinion of Zak Brown was that he got further than he ever dreamt to get from starring on Wheel of Fortune. And whilst you did admire him for not being brought up in the snobbery and pretentiousness of the generational wealth that F1 tends to circulate through... you did note how he sucked up to the those snobs and their pretentious generational wealth.

Namely, how he did anything and everything for to make Lando Norris happy. In your opinion, it was a lil cringe at times.

"Well, the problem is that it's getting harder and harder for me to just make it out to the rest of the Paddock that you and Oscar are just friends spotting one another at the gym." Zak said. "Christian Horner is running rampant, scared you'll turn Oscar into the next Max Verstappen."

You snorted at this. Unfortunately this drew everyone's attention to you and you knew you would need to explain. "Max and Oscar are polar opposites."

Oscar could very easily become a World Champion without you. He was smart, dedicated and very talented. And whilst Max was all those things, he didn't need someone to train him up so much as tame him down after all that Jos did to him. You guys had just as much sessions on anger management as you had sessions on endurance training.

"Either way, it's coming to be viewed as a breach." Zak said. "And if you breach your contract then - "

"I know." You interrupted him. He didn't need to explain that to you.

"There's also the issue that people think you two are dating." Sophie spoke up from the front. She tapped on her iPad a few times and up came up a few screenshots of Twitter threads hypothesising about the two of you. "Your Twitter had a followed increase of 150% since Oscar followed you. Which didn't help."

"And whose fault was that?" You said, looking at Oscar with an unimpressed look. "You're lucky I deleted that shit so quickly."

"Yeah look, my bad. The timing was off." He said, accepting responsibility. You still remember all the notifications of the Twitter shit-storm Oscar set off. You literally had to delete your account because of it.

"Yes, Christian did bring that up." Zak said. "And it's a good thing Oscar's lovely Lauren is here - "

"Lily, sir." Sophie quickly corrected her boss. You wanted to groan. Oscar just looked down to hide his smile. Under the table, you kicked at his legs.

"Lily! Sorry." He gave a sheepish look to Oscar. "Yes, you and Lily this morning was a good idea."

"Unfortunately, Daniel did like a few of these Tweets." Sophie added, bringing up the screenshots of a Tweet about you and Oscar that was liked by none other than @danielricciardo.

You clenched your fist, your nails digging into your palm as you thought of how fucking petty that was. Daniel wasn't a fucking idiot. Aside from the fact that he knew your type - (admittedly, the tall/dark features combination always got you) Oscar was so young.

If anything, you thought of Oscar, genuinely, as a younger brother. As you had Max. Daniel knew that. So he knew exactly what he was doing by liking those kind of fucking Tweets. Tweets you wouldn't put past Red Bull to send out themselves.

Because, if anything, they would be praying it wouldn't be true about you and Oscar. Otherwise Christian Horner wouldn't have any leg to stand on. That was how you got around being connected to Charles, anyway. Family was the exception.

"I know your contract has you tied to only working for Red Bull and Ferrari's drivers but--"

"Red Bull and Charles Leclerc." You corrected in a tight voice, your eyes falling down to the table in front of you. "I was only granted exemption to work with Charles as he was considered family."

This caused him to frown as he pulled out his phone and began typing at it. "I thought you were allowed to work for Red Bull or Ferrari. No new teams."

"Yeah, no." You said, making Oscar chuckle at the Australianism. "No new teams outside of Red Bull and Torro Rosso." You specified.

"Christian didn't say that." Zak said.

"It was kept really quiet." You explained. "Charles was, um, he granted exemption from my Red Bull contract because he - well, he was considered family." You cleared your throat, not able to even look at Oscar. "I was signed for Torro Rosso and Red Bull. Never Ferrari."

"That's not what Toto said at the meeting." Zak said, shaking his head. "He made it seem that you could work for Ferrari."

You said nothing. Toto Wolff had approached you once or twice but your answer had always been the same, no matter what he offered. Eventually, he dropped it. You just didn't realise he dropped it because Toto had sought out the fine print.

"Wait so why aren't you Charles' trainer?" Zak asked, looking up from his phone. "He'd be insane to not have you!"

You froze. How were you supposed to answer that? For once, you had hoped the F1 rumour mill had properly run its course and Zak would know better than to ask that obvious question.

"Eh, Leclerc's loss." Oscar interjected with a casual shrug. "Let's be glad we don't need to worry about that."

The hidden meaning behind his smooth words were clear and you felt your love for the boy increase tenfold at his save.

"What - if I may," Sophie started, trying to be sensitive with her wording and her eyes darted between you and Oscar, "what were the grounds for family?"

You took a moment to think of how you might answer. You really didn't want to but if this might help the boy beside you, you would. "Charles - and I, like, I dunno. We grew up together? Everyone just knew." You pulled at your hoodie sleeve, feeling every bit uncomfortable with the question.

"You didn't date?" Sophie asked. Your face must've shown something very unpleasant because she was quick to amend. "I'm only saying because the grounds for family are always a grey area."

You pressed your lips together and went back to staring at the table. "There was nothing romantic between Charles and I." You said. The room fell silent for a moment as Zak tapped on his screen a few times and then he spoke up.

"You also trained Daniel. He told me in 2021." Zak said and put the phone down and you wanted to roll you eyes. Of course Daniel would say that. "And I don't want to get into all the drama but you were dating him back when you were training Verstappen."

Zak did have a point.

A key point that you had forgotten.

You paused and watched the screen in front of you and the liked by @danielricciardo Tweet. "Christian's always had a soft spot for Daniel so..." You trailed off. "But yeah, you're right. It was fine even though I was contracted to Max under Torro Rosso then Red Bull."

"Hm." Zak said, bringing a hand to his chin as he leaned back, pensive, in his chair. "I can see how romantic grounds could be argued." He said it with a laugh, looking between you and Oscar.

You raised an eyebrow at the comment. You honestly weren't sure if this was just Zak Brown being Zak Brown - i.e saying dumb things to suck up since he was out of his element - or if he actually meant that. Either way, it pissed you off.

Because there was no fucking way you'd let that happen to Oscar.

"No it can't. Contracts aside, I'm not forcing someone I think of as my younger brother into a PR relationship with me." You said.

"It could work, though." Sophie said, taking a professional tone as you turned your glare to her. "This is what I was trying to say before. The Twitter comments about you and Oscar are not necessarily negative. If anything you've helped increased Oscar's public image and Red Bull wouldn't able to say anything about you two on romantic family grounds."

You were seething.

Thankfully, Oscar was more level-headed than you.

"Yeah, look guys. Tezza's pretty but not my type." He finally chimed in, lighthearted. "Besides, I think we should focus more on the car and that way it's a fair advantage to both me and Lando."

You looked back at him and took a deep breath. Oscar smiled at you, chill as always, and you took another breath. You wanted to give the boy a big hug.

"Look, Zak," you said, looking back at the TP, calming down a little more, "I'm sorry. I'm causing you all this shit."

"You got Oscar into the points." Zak waved off. "Don't worry about it. I just want to find a way that works for everyone." You sucked on your teeth. Whilst it was nice to know that Zak Brown was willing to take risks on you also wanted to know how this conversation would've gone if Oscar hadn't finished 9th in Jeddah last weekend.

Such was the way of F1.

Sophie then tapped on her iPad and the TV showed a picture taken by Ky Millman. It was of Oscar hugging you after the win in Jeddah. Some comments were displayed and you found your lips turning up as you read them. They were, as Sophie said, sort of positive.

kymillman

liked by mclaren, saintescuderia and 15'483 others

kymillman SUPPORT FOR SUCCESS! Oscar surprised many with his amazing performance in Jeddah and goes to celebrate with a F1 Hospitality worker and friend @ynusername!

view all 76 comments

halaaaamadrid girl help his shoe game pls

ln44girlieee @mclaren we need content from this duo plssss u have them right there

logansversion as if mclaren is going to post a couple?

f1fanforever they're friends?

ln44girlieee idc the level of sarcasm between them would be SO GOOD

oscarpastries i love THIS! 😫😫😫

justanotherinchident omg charles finna be RIOTING!

team44roscoes wait why would charles be upset ?? i thought @ynusername was with dannyric?

maxiel4eva_16 yeh 😒 jumping on all them aussies

You rolled your eyes at the last comment. Maybe it was a good thing you were off Twitter and barely used Instagram anymore.

"It'll be hard to argue that Oscar is family since you haven't known him as long as you did with Charles," Sophie spoke up, bringing your attention back to her, "but we can maybe try to build it up from a PR point a view."

"That Oscar and I are family and not dating?" You asked. Sophie nodded. You looked at Oscar, wanting his confirmation.

"Yeah, sure thing Vin Diesel." He laughed.

"Hey, hey. Fuck you." The grin on your face was contagious and he broke out laughing also. You liked this new idea and turned back to look at Sophie a lot more positively. You were glad McLaren gave Oscar the girl.

"Okay, so what do we do to show the world I've adopted Oscar?" You asked.

"I think you'll find my dad's already half adopted you." Oscar corrected. "He wants to see your Supra."

"That's perfect!" Sophie said, excited. "Maybe Oscar can post a story of the interaction sometime this weekend? Make sure Lily is there. Maybe you can play the tired third wheel of them!" Sophie looked at you as ranted off her ideas. You nodded, suddenly less excited.

Whilst it was nice to know there was a plan in place to help you and Oscar continue to work together, you didn't like the way Sophie said for you 'play' a role. The one, sole consolation you had going for you these past few years was the lack of needing to play any PR role. Hearing Sophie speak was giving you flashbacks to times long gone.

"Happy with that gang?" Zak said, placing his palms on the table. "We'll work on building the PR and hopefully that will get Red Bull off our back as we also improve the car!" He stood up and left, not joining Sophie and Oscar as they said goodbye to the boss.

"Wait, does this mean I need to actually start using Instagram?" You asked.

"Yes." Sophie said. Then she looked up from her iPad. "Don't you? You were tagged in it?"

"Like, I have an account but I stopped using it. I'm pretty sure I deleted the app." You said, pulling out your phone to see that yes, there was no pink app downloaded. You pressed the download button, knowing what was in store for you.

"Download it. You're already at 2.4k followers." She said, bringing up your profile on the TV screen.

"The fuck? I had like three hundred last time I checked."

"Five." Sophie corrected. "Your growth has increased since you started training the F2 winner who follower Y/N Tessio after the most controversial Formula 1 Tweet that ever was Tweeted." Sophie said, eyeing Oscar with a raised eyebrow.

"I already said sorry about that."

"Do you know how stressful you made my first day? Helen scared me!" Sophie asked, humour on her face. "Though, nothing like jumping in the deep end."

The Instagram app had finishing downloading and you logged onto it - thank you pre-saved passwords - to be met with a fucking plethora of notifications that suddenly had you overwhelmed. As such, you immediately went out of the app and put your phone in your pocket. You could deal with that all later.

"I'm not using Twitter again." You said, thinking back to the Tweets Daniel had liked. "Fuck that."

"Yes, only Tumblr or Reddit over here." Oscar said, pointing to you.

"Tumblr?" Sophie looked at you, surprised.

"Yeah? What of it?" You asked, defensive.

"Nothing. Just surprised. I would ask to follow you but Tumblr is the safe haven of anonymity. I get it." She nodded. "Alright, perfect. I'll draft up a PR plan. In the mean time, do you mind if I review your profile and send you some tips?" Looking at you for the last bit.

"By all means." You said, half wishing you could give her control of it like Oscar and be done with it. You just wanted to be able to work with Oscar without causing him any trouble and not having to worry about this PR bullshit.

"Perfect!" She said, beaming.

Your phone buzzed. It was a text reminder about you needing to go back to check on some dough you'd prepared. Back at Ferrari. You sighed and stood up.

"Alright, sounds good. I gotta get back to work. Take your supplements and electrolytes. The green one." The last bit was aimed at Oscar as you met his eyes and then turned to leave the room and walk, head down, out of the McLaren motorhome.

You took a deep breath as soon as you made it into the open air. With how things were going, it was likely that you would be having another gym session today. You arrived at Ferrari and saw the back of Carlos' head. You felt yourself gulp and turned to hide behind the coffee machine. Maybe you would watch Liverpool play.

The mention of your connection to soccer was also pointed out in the room you had just rushed out of. Sophie made a small sound and rounded on Oscar, shoving something in his face.

"Did you know that half of Real Madrid are following her? Jude Bellingham just commented on the post!"

She stared at Oscar, hoping he might provide an answer. The young driver just shrugged. "She did say something about her uncle coaching a team." Sophie stared at him, incredulous. "How was I to know? I don't watch soccer."

< prev ch [6] | next ch [8] >

taglist:

@eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery @vicurious28 @taytaylala12 @c-losur3

@hiireadstuff @samantha-chicago @fionaschicken @casperlikej @bookstore-of-dreams

@itsjustkhaos @sam-is-lost @laneyspaulding19 @formula1mount @bokutos-babyowl

@stampiej @alilcloudy @bingussthirdtoe @sisinever @lilymurphy03

@inlovewmarlenemckinnon @charllleclerc @richardniixon @sp1rl @nikfigueiredo

[totothewolff]

"Can you just watch my boss for a sec. Thxs 🙏"

[imdrivingsolo]

‘reminds me a little bit of my time with lewis’ - nico rosberg on sainz running leclerc off the track

nico 😂🥲🤭

[gentlyweeps-world]

silver or red

summary: it wasn’t just ferrari who had to pick one.

warnings: cheating | suggestive tones

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader | carlos sainz x fem!reader

genre: self sabotage | two lovers

notes: oh boy am I excited for this!!

words: 1.1k

teaser

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

“Hey baby..” Lewis says with a grin, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you towards his chest, a sleepy- yet hot grin on his face.

“Morning Lew..” You say with a smile, letting him pull you in close.

Lewis let’s out a little chuckle and sigh, “Is it bad of me to say I don’t want the season to start?” He says, cuddling close into you.

You let out a hum, gliding your hands down his back, simply just feeling his skin. “No..not really..I think that’s normal” You say softly, “But I know you want to get back to racing..”

“Oh do I..” He chuckles, he wraps his arms tight around you, holding you tight, “I do, but right now, I would rather spend the day in this bed with you”

“I know Lew..I feel the same..” You say with a hesitant smile, he didn’t need to know now. It could wait. “But testing starts in a few days..”

“Is there not a way it could just.. wait?” Lewis asks jokingly, smiling and kissing you, “Testing will be there when we’re both rested”

“Hmm..that’s not very Lewis like..” You say with a chuckle, starting to detangle yourself from him. “It’ll be different this season- especially with your move to Ferrari..”

“But you’ll be there right?” He chuckles, as you dislodge yourself from him, “It will be different, but you’ll be there to make it the best.. or worst..I dunno..”

You take in a breath, this conversation felt weird, it felt off, it didn’t feel right. “Are you regretting your decision?” You ask, trying to push away from the subject of you being there with him.

A moment passes, Lewis thinks about the question and he’s silent for a beat, “I’m worried about it.. It’s a huge change for me, and I was comfortable with Mercedes but.. I just feel like it’s time for me to move on, to do something else, to push myself”

“That’s all that matters Lew..as long as you’re happy with the decision..” You say, throwing on a robe. “And hey..red looks good on you” You add on with a grin, not only thinking of him in red- but Carlos too.

He chuckles with a smile, a cheeky wink, “Yeah I suppose it does.. and I’m sure it’ll suit you as well when you’re visiting me” He teases, stretching out as he watches you slip into the robe.

You let out a soft sigh, a nervous smile on your lips, “Of course..”

Instagram

youruser posted to their page

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youruser 🫶☀️

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lewishamilton love you baby

liked by author

lewishamilton beautiful

carmenmmundt 💛💛💛

youruser ❤️❤️

user8392 WHY DIDNT SHE REPLY TO LEWIS SAYING HE LOVES HER??

user0183 WHY ARE YOU CHRONICALLY ONLINE???

roscoelovescoco Mum and Dad!

youruser ❤️❤️

user7392 why did Carlos like her post???

user6392 he’s taking his revenge

user6392 pulling a reverse Verstappen

user0292 okay but like isn’t she much older than him???

user6392 she’s literally one year older than Carlos

user0292 that’s still disgusting

user6392 grow up

You walk into the Sakhir paddock with Lewis at your side, “How are you feeling?” You ask, lacing your fingers together.

“I’m feeling ready I think, a little nervous, a little excited” Lewis smiles, “How are you feeling?” He asks as you lace your fingers and he interlocks his fingers with you.

“I’m okay..” You say with a small smile, “I’ve missed seeing you race to be honest..let’s just hope this car is better than last years, yeah?”

“It’s supposed to be better, at least that’s what the numbers say, but that is still a long way from the real thing” Lewis smiles as you walk.

“I’ll need you in the garage this season, I want you there as a good luck charm, you know that right?”

“Yeah of course Lew..” You say with a smile, a sense of unease settling in the pit of your stomach.

“Good.” Lewis squeezes your hand, taking you back to the pits and the garage as you walk in. “Are you feeling ok? You seem off..” He asks, you notice his tone slightly change.

“Yeah I’m okay- I just need to uhm, make a quick phone call..” You reply with a small smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek and wandering off to a secluded spot, dialing an all too familiar number into your phone.

“Y/n..what do you want amor?” The Spaniard says, his voice sending shivers down your spine, something you had experienced with Lewis.

“I just- I needed to talk to you Carlos…needed to hear your voice” You mumble out, nervously glancing around, making sure no one could see or hear you.

“Hmm..are you missing me?” Carlos asks in that low, deep voice of his, his tone almost making you feel weak at the knees, your knees buckling slightly, “I’m sure you’re missing me”

“Carlos..” You mumble out, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to go through another season of this..”

“You could have both of us amor..but I don’t fancy Lewis like that..” Carlos replies with a chuckle, “Just sneak out to meet me later after free practice..”

“Alright I will..what should I tell Lewis?” You say, needing to wrap up the conversation.

“Lie, I don’t care what lie you tell him, just make sure you get out there to see me..” Carlos says, a voice as smooth as velvet, like honey.

“Okay..” You mutter out before hanging up the phone. You stuff your phone back into your purse, wandering off to go find Lewis.

You spot Lewis who is stood by the garage, leaning against the wall. He looks up as you approach. “Everything alright love?” He asks, a smile on his face still, you know deep down he knew something was wrong.

“Yeah- sorry about that baby..just some work things..” You say with a smile, lacing your fingers together. Maybe you could balance it out with having both of them..you didn’t need to make the choice yet.

“I know that face, you can’t lie to me love” Lewis chuckles, leaning in to kiss you softly, “So what was it? And don’t say work stuff”

“Lew I promise it’s nothing baby..I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise, now would I?” You say with a chuckle, pulling him closer towards you by his hand.

“Ok, but if you’re hiding something from me..you had better explain afterwards” He smiles, pulling you in closer to his body, “I don’t need any surprises..at least not bad ones..”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head off, just focus on racing right now..” You say with a reassuring smile, pressing a quick peck to his lips then pulling away.

Right now, having both was for the best.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

notes: tbh if I was fem!reader I’d want both too 🤷‍♀️ don’t be shy to ask to be added to the taglist, leave any comments or requests!!🤍

permanent taglist: @cixrosie @amajixi @i-wish-this-was-me @nelly187 @hannahwsworld @sltwins @itsprashimusic @tremendousstarlighttragedy @suchislife55

next part

[aquamarinemoonlit]

when your card declines at therapy so they bring up the brocedes lore

[formulawolff]

xi. larger than life - t.w.

pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: 3.6k

warnings: cursing, banter, teasing, flirting, mentions of sex, a teeny bit of angst, THIS IS PROBABLY THE MOST DOWN BAD TOTO HAS EVER BEEN, lewis being a little shit, alcohol use, marijuana use, yadayadayada

prev. | next.

“hey, there’s someone here to meet you. i think you’ll shit your pants once you see him.”

alex stands beside you, beaming as you wave goodbye to ben. it was early friday morning, around nine-thirty in the morning. since it was a more relaxed day, with the practice session the only obligation in your schedule, you had your parents stationed at the lounge area.

they were seated with lily, who was very eager to spend some time with them. after all, since alex was busy, she had no one to talk to. so, you figured it would be nice if they all had one another for company. 

however, tomorrow was qualifying, where it would determine your place on the grid. 

which, to you, that lap tomorrow was everything. 

the defining moment of the weekend. 

“who?” you raise a brow, “who could it–”

as you glance over your shoulder, your heart skips a beat as you see james engaged in deep conversation with him, the team principal chuckling, pointing to you. the visitor is dressed in a cream suit, a white button-up underneath, jet-black sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose. swallowing the lump in your throat, you stroll towards him, running an absentminded hair through your hand. 

“good morning!”

the words are almost a squeak, and you internally kick yourself. 

the visitor’s lips curl upward, flashing a pearly white grin, “¡buenos dias! ¡bienvenida a miami!” 

standing before you was none other than pitbull, mr. worldwide, mr. three-oh-five. rather than shaking your hand, he opens his arms, pulling you in for a warm embrace. you were probably sweating from the nerves and the humidity, but you didn’t care. 

while you had met celebrities in your brief time as a formula one driver, most of them were european. so, you weren’t really quite familiar with their fame or starpower through football, rugby, television, and well, business. there were so many wealthy moguls who came through the paddock at the races, james and alex recognizing them in an instant. 

on the other hand, you felt awkward, as you usually had no idea who that person was or what exactly they did. 

so, to finally meet someone you were familiar with and recognized, in your home country, was a moment to cherish. 

and well, you were a little starstruck. 

“i’m going to admit, i don’t know much about formula one,” the singer shrugs, “but i figured i would come through and say hello.”

“well i’m honored,” a giggle bubbles up in your throat, “have you met with any of the other teams?”

“not yet,” he shakes his head, shooting you a wink, “this is my first stop. mostly because there is a very beautiful woman who drives for this team. do you know her, by chance?”

your eyes widen as you realize he’s referring to you. heat rushes into your cheeks, your palms clamming up, “oh my gosh – um, –”

“my apologies señorita,” he places a tender hand on your shoulder, “i know you have much bigger things to worry about. i wish you the best of luck today! make miami proud!” 

“i will,” relief ripples as he leans in, pecking your cheek before waving goodbye, strolling away from the entrance of the paddock, security team in tow. 

“jesus christ,” alex’s voice sounds from behind you, “he would fuck anyone, wouldn’t he?”

“stop it,” you hiss, swiveling on your heel, “he was just being nice.”

“yeah, yeah,” alex scoffs, rolling his eyes, “anyways, i noticed the other day you posted another set of photos on instagram. one of them had that mystery man in it. who is he? why hasn’t he come to the paddock yet?”

“because he’s been busy,” that wasn’t a lie by any means. the team principal was quite busy this morning, merely a few paddocks over, “i will see if he come to the next race. i doubt it, though.”

“what does he do again?” alex inquires, sitting on top of some equipment, “i think you told me but i forgot.”

“he’s in management,” well, that was half the truth, “he manages a sports team.”

“what team?” 

“the new soccer team in st. louis,” firing back, you shrink a little under alex’s intense gaze, his lips pursed, brows furrowed, “since it’s only their second year, he’s been busy with promotional stuff. events, traveling, you know.”

“right,” alex sucks in a breath, “also, i know it wasn’t anything serious, but i was a little nervous when you posted those photos of the mercedes campus. i know there have been some rumors, but i would hope that you would talk to me if you were ever thinking about leaving williams–”

“oh, she’s never leaving us!” james’ voice chips in, the team principal coming up from behind you, “she’s stuck with us till 2026!”

at the sureness in james’ tone, your heart sinks. 

fuck, this was getting complicated. 

as you stood with james and alex, the topic shifting to the newest modifications on the cars, your heart thumped, pounding against your rib-cage. inside your mind, it was a tumultuous, chaotic mess. 

your heart yearned to be with toto, yet you were so comfortable with williams. you were happy here, really. you had an amazing relationship with james, alex was like an older brother, and you couldn’t be any more grateful for the support your team had given you. since the beginning, they had made it very clear that they were one hundred percent confident in your capabilities, often reassuring you that were a talented driver with a very successful future ahead. 

how could you just abandon williams like that? leaving them high and dry like that? with no warning either? 

you could only picture the disappointment, the confusion, and the bitterness that would plague james’ features as you inform him of your decision. 

god, that thought alone was enough to tear your heart into two. 

sure, there were rumors. since that post with the mercedes headquarters, fans were buzzing with suspicions that there were contract talks. that you were going to announce your departure from williams any day now. that you were going to join toto wolff at mercedes. 

since it was friday, there were only a couple of days before toto would ask about your decision. in that time frame, you needed to speak with james regarding the subject, fill alex in, focus on the practice sessions, make the most out of your qualifying lap, spend time with your parents, and most of all, focus on driving. 

with less than forty-eight hours until then, time was of the essence. 

and fuck, were you running out of that precious time. 

a few paddocks over, a team principal raises an arm, waving to fans as they shout, a driver on his left, the other on his right. 

“are you going to see her tonight?” 

lewis’ question is innocent as they enter the garage, members of the pit crew swarming and flurrying about. they chirp greetings as the three gather around the cars, examining them. 

toto exhales, inspecting the right wing, “you two are worse than the wags. i have never met people more invested in someone’s love life the way you two are.”

“well now that the cat’s out of the bag,” george crouches by a tire, “we get to pester you about it.”

the casualness of the conversation as the entire team was in earshot sent the team principal spiraling, his jaw clenching as bono approached them clipboard in hand, “you two also need to learn the importance of time and place.”

“we’ll just talk more about it later then,” toto curses as he notices lewis bearing a smug smirk, “after the practice session, we’re going to do a deep dive addressing your feelings–”

“good morning,” bono clears his throat, “did i walk into something important?”

“no, not at all,” toto shoots lewis an icy glare as george bites on his lip, stifling a chuckle, “let’s get to business. how are the cars?”

as peter began his report, toto couldn’t help but let his mind wander. 

besides, it was not like he could focus these days anyway. 

the team principal absolutely despised the hectic schedules of the race weekend. how he was constantly rotating between briefings, meetings with the engineers and mechanics, promotional events, sponsorship talks, and well, managing the two juveniles otherwise known as lewis hamilton and george russell.

then, there was the reason why they were all here. the race itself. 

now, he had another pressing matter weighing on his mind. 

three people were aware of his developing relationship with a certain williams driver. while he knew that two of the three would protect his secret, he was extremely cautious about the third. after all, the girl was only nineteen years old. she was young and impressionable. lewis’ little stunt with the cash proved that the girl was easily influenced. 

however, as much as he wanted to fire the girl, he knew that he couldn’t. 

at least, not during race weekend. that would be downright cruel. 

monday would probably be a different story. 

yet, if he fired her, would she just blackmail him? would she threaten to release the information involving him and his golden girl?

just the thought of her leaking that information to the press was panic-inducing enough. 

he could offer her a hefty sum to stay quiet. but he couldn’t do that either. down the road, she could end up exposing him for paying hush money. 

being romantically involved with a woman thirty years younger than him and offering his former assistant hush money to keep quiet on the matter? 

that would send his entire world crashing down, bursting into flames in the process.

he would lose everything. 

for the time-being, toto would just have to hold onto shreds of hope that his assistant would remain silent on the matter. maybe if he didn’t mention it, she wouldn’t either. 

he would be okay with that.

on the other hand, his drivers were adamant that they wouldn’t say anything, swearing up and down that if preserving this little secret was this important to him, then they would abide by his wishes. at first, george was hurt that he was excluded from the conversation. he was angry that out of anyone toto could have chosen, he chose her. 

yet, as toto recalled every little detail of his relationship with the williams driver, george’s bitterness dissolved, transitioning to some sort of understanding. toto thought he kept things brief as he explained his feelings, but the three were cooped up in his office for nearly three hours discussing the matter. 

besides, it wasn’t like he chose the williams driver.

it just sort of happened. 

now, here he was, pacing back and forth in the paddock, aching for even a glimpse of her. the rift between the two was driving him utterly insane, the team principal resisting the urge to take an impromptu visit, popping in for just a moment. just hearing the sound of her voice would be enough.  

yet, he knew he couldn’t. it would raise too many eyebrows. it would stir up too much gossip. 

“look at him,” lewis elbows george, “looking quite pitiful once again.”

“i feel bad for him,” george exhales, “i can’t be away from carmen for too long before going absolutely mad. i can’t imagine how he feels.”

“being so close to someone yet so far?” 

“exactly,” george nods, “do you think he’s in love? he wouldn’t say it directly, but whenever he was talking about her, i could just tell. i saw the way his eyes lit up, the way he was giggling like a schoolgirl, and the way he couldn’t help but fight a smile. and not just any old smile.”

“oh he’s totally in love,” lewis remarks, “do you hear how he talks about her? he speaks with this softness. it’s cute, really. it makes me want to throw up but it’s cute.”

“do you think he’ll tell her?”

as the driver shifts his attention back to the team principal, he tuts, “not now, but soon.”

“how soon?” george presses, “because he looks quite pathetic over there, like a little lovesick puppy.” 

“i’m willing to bet by the time we’re in monaco, he won’t be able to hold it in any longer.”

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

“i feel the need, the need for speed!”

letting out a shaky breath, your fingers grip the steering wheel, so tightly you were sure your knuckles were white underneath the fabric of your gloves. 

this was it. 

the miami grand prix. 

as you sail through the track, surprisingly, you feel nothing but peace, james’ voice over the radio barely audible. you felt like you were enduring an out-of-body experience the way your mind raced yet your body remained still, acting on pure instinct. your foot on the gas, tapping on the brakes every so often. 

this was lap fifty-six out of fifty-seven. 

the final stretch. 

you were almost there. so close now. so close you could taste it. 

behind you was lando norris of mclaren, max verstappen closing in quickly. charles leclerc tails max, desperate for the thrill of a podium. 

the anticipation was growing as you near the finish line, the checkered flag waving in the distance. 

was this a dream? were you really here?

squeezing your eyes shut, you blink, in a desperate attempt to distinguish reality from fantasy. yet, there’s a moment of silence as you make out the stands in your field of vision, as if everyone was holding their breath at once. 

then, it all comes bursting in your ears. the roar of the crowd. the thundering of the engines. the booming of fireworks. it was almost deafening as your car slows, foot easing on the brakes.  

“and she’s done it again! we just witnessed a moment in history!”

oh god. 

you did it. 

you won. 

euphoria fills you to the brim as you scramble out of the car, climbing on top of it. pumping your fists in the air, tears flood your visor, blurring anything and everything all around. members of the williams team come sprinting towards the car, hollering and shouting. adrenaline courses through your veins, a tingling sensation buzzing from your fingers to your toes. 

cameras flash as you raise your index fingers, members of the team following in suit. 

you were one-of-one. 

and by god, were you going to show the world that you were just that. 

the world was going to know your name, whether they watched formula one or not. your name was going to be broadcasted all over sports channels for weeks to come. your name was going to printed on merchandise, jerseys, on everything and anything related to williams racing. 

you made history today as the first american driver to win the miami grand prix. not only that, but you were the first american female driver to win two grand prixes consecutively. 

and god, did that taste so sweet on your tongue. 

jumping down, you’re greeted by james’ arms, the team principal rattling your helmet. 

“great fucking job! great fucking job! you are fucking insane!”

ripping off your helmet, you catch your breath, taking in the moment. this felt larger than life. like a dream come true. 

this was one of the best days of your life. 

if not, the best day of your life. 

and god, were you going to savor every moment of it. 

each and every second. 

the hours following the race were a blur. although you typically shied away from the press, you lost count of the number of journalists who approached you, answering each one of their questions with genuine, thoughtful answers. fans of all ages snapped photos with you, congratulating you with nothing but sincerity in their words. you signed some jerseys, some caps, and one woman even asked you to sign across her chest.

how could you refuse a photo worthy moment like that? 

your parents were immensely proud, tears streaming down their cheeks as they wrapped their arms around you. although you wanted to spend the rest of the evening with them, they urged you to go out and celebrate. there was always time tomorrow, as they were flying out early in the morning tuesday.

so, when the boys offered to take you out to a few clubs across miami, you accepted it. 

now, the bass pounded as you sway back and forth, screaming along with lando, oscar, carlos, charles, and alex as the music plays. lily tagged along, hovering alex, giggling as you chug another drink, the taste of alcohol lingering on your tongue.

“how does it feel to be a winner-winner?”

“pretty fucking good,” a few drops trickle down your chin, and you quickly wipe them away, “do you think i could win the next one?”

“ummm, let me think,” lily brings a hand to her chin, pausing momentarily, “yes!”

“you’re absolutely unfuckingbelievable,” lando nods enthusiastically, “you will probably win the world championship if we don’t up the pace!””

all of you were extremely tipsy, cheeks burning from the buzz of the alcohol and packed space. lewis and george came too, but they kept their distance, remaining at the bar while the rest of you were on the dance floor. 

not only were you tipsy, but someone had offered you a few puffs of a joint while you were in line outside of the club. actually, they offered you the entire joint because the second they saw you, they immediately recognized you.

at that point, you had already pregamed at the hotel with the boys beforehand. so, how could you refuse a few hits of a joint? that would have been downright rude. 

across the dance floor, lewis hamilton sits, perched at the bar, drink in hand. 

it’s not like he came along to purposefully watch the williams driver. he just wanted to ensure that you would make it back to your motorhome by the end of the night. 

cause god knew how fucked up the others were. they weren’t in any state to help you get home, safe and sound. fuck, none of you were in any coherent state to even call an uber. 

plus, god only knew if you would run into anyone from the press or media. and who knows what you would possibly say if you were asked about a certain team principal. 

“should i call toto?” george leans over, his voice slightly raised, “she looks gone.”

“hmmm,” lewis hums, his eyes following your every move as you stumble a couple of steps, “i don’t think a call would hurt.”

“now?” 

“now,” lewis’ jaw clenches as he sets his drink on the bar, “call toto and get my card, would you? i’m going to wrangle our newfound friend.”

“should we have toto come get her or what should we do?”

rising to his feet, lewis surveys the crowd. it was packed beyond belief, inches between bodies as they moved to the rhythm. toto meeting them here would be far too risky. too many eyes and ears. 

“call him and tell him that we’re going to help get her to the motorhome. or we can take her directly to his hotel room. i imagine she would prefer to sleep in her own bed. you know what? just have him meet us at her motorhome.”

“will do,” george nods, “i’m going to step outside to make the call. meet me out there once you find her?” 

“sounds like a plan,” lewis suppresses a groan as the lights in the club are dimmed, more so than they previously were. everyone blended together, forming one giant mass. 

this was going to be fun. 

in his hotel room, toto wolff lays in bed, laptop resting on his nightstand. although he was oh so happy for you and your accomplishments today, there was this aching feeling gnawing away at him, nearly consuming him whole. 

out his window, the lights of miami glitter, casting a soft glow over the city. the view from his room was oh so beautiful, especially at this time of night. however, it wasn’t nearly as stunning as you were. 

fuck, he missed you. 

more than anything. 

he longed to hold you against his chest. he yearned to pepper your forehead with kisses. he wanted you, desperately. 

actually, he needed you. 

but he wouldn’t admit that. 

suddenly, his phone buzzes, startling him slightly. plucking it off the mattress, the screen is illuminated with a photo of george. 

hmph. that’s odd. 

tapping on the green icon, the team principal brings the phone to his ear, “hallo?”

in the background, he hears a voice. not any old voice. your voice, barely audible, but enough that he knows it's yours. 

“hey it’s george. she’s absolutely obliterated right now. we’re going to call for an uber, and bring her to her place. can you meet us there? i think she really needs you.”

“is she okay?” almost instantly, he sits up, “how long will you be?”

“are you calling toto?” his heart flutters as she giggles, the sound oh so angelic, “oh my gosh! is he on the phone right now? can i talk to him? pleaseee george? can i? please?”

“put her on the phone, george,” toto brings a hand to his temple, momentarily embarrassed at the desperation dripping in his tone, “please.”

there’s a shuffling noise as the phone is transferred, her voice, so delicate and sweet, pours into his ear. 

“can you come over? i miss you so much. please, daddy. come over.” 

“oh shit,” toto squeezes his eyes shut as he hears lewis’ chuckle in the background, “i’m not letting that one go.”

“i’ll be on my way soon, schatzi. do you need anything? it sounds like you need some water and some rest.”

“ummm yeah,” god, she was going to be the death of him, “i do need one thing.”

“and that is?” he’s on his feet now, shoving clothes into an overnight bag, “what do you need, schatzi?”

“your dick.” 

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

taglist: @younxii @toldyouitwasamelodrama @kravitzwhore @persona1lies @pucksandpower @k3ira13 @prettiest-at-the-party @martwll @annewithaneofthegreengable @zoeyjadetice2010  @sinners-98-world @laura-naruto-fan1998 @nebarious @joalslibrary @swifth0lic @statuewoman @strangegirl974 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @m-1234 @whoisss @msbyjackal

as always, if you would like to be added, or forgot to be added, please let me know! thank you for all of the support on this series! i love y'all so much! <3

[maxedes]

Formula Skippy

„Once upon a time, there was a SPC Schwarz stationed with the Army in the Balkans. SPC Schwarz was either very clever or very bored; but probably both, since he managed to attempt or be warned about 213 things he wasn’t allowed to do. He collected those things into a hilarious list and posted them to the web. […]

First, a word of intro For those of you that don’t really know Skippy, he’s a friend of mine that, in a sad state of sobriety, decided to join the Army. He’s also one of the Universe’s great agents of Chaos and Discord. Feel free to email him with whatever questions you might have, and don’t be concerned about whether or not he knows you or even if he understands what the hell you’re talking about. I don’t. BTW: Skippy is in Psyops. The first time I met him he was wearing a kilt made of fruit roll-ups. Now, on to the list!“

skippys list x f1

(part I) (part II)

[bad268]

hope you’re having a great dayy :)) wondering if you could do one for paul aron in a situation like sleepy back hugs when the other person is busy whipping up breakfast in the kitchen, catching them by surprise smth like that? just fluff cause I rarely see stuff for paul 😢 tysm!!

Morning Surprises (Paul Aron X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 2/3

Requested: Clearly (thank you for being patient and tbh i was 🤏 this close to changing it to Ralf. idk why but I'm on my Ralf arc rn, I'm gonna start writing for Ralf so send it in <3)

Warnings: shirtless Paul (need I say more?)

Pronouns: You/your

W.C. 1101

Summary: Sleepy hugs in the morning. What's not to like?

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(@/Paul's insta from February 23, 2023)

It was too early to function, in your opinion. Half seven in the morning may seem late to people like your race car driver boyfriend, Paul, but to you, it was too damn early to function. Rolling over in bed to hide in Paul’s side, you notice he’s not there. In fact, he had not been there for a while since his side was completely cold.

You groaned as you got out of the warm blankets and found one of Paul’s many sweatshirts lying around before throwing it on. You walk out of your room and are met with a familiar smell, but you can’t tell exactly what it is in your drowsy state.

You walk into the kitchen and see Paul standing over the stove. He was wearing grey sweatpants and no shirt as he was making what looked like a burnt egg. You held your breath as you crept up behind him before snaking your arms around his waist quickly, causing him to quickly look back at you leaning against his back.

“Are you trying to kill me?” You mumbled as you laid your head on his shoulder, already planning to fall back asleep. “That looks burnt. I don’t think Gigi would approve.”

“I tried, okay?” He chuckled as he dumped the burnt eggs into the trash and began a new omelet. Once it started cooking, he took one hand off the skillet (skrittle) to rest it against your arm. “Are you falling asleep again? Or have you died?”

“I mean my heart is still beating. Only for you of course,” You joked halfheartedly, leaning back on his shoulder to look up at him. “I was planning on going back to sleep. You’re just too comfy, but I don’t want to leave you alone and risk burning the apartment down.”

“You’re so cheezy, I love you,” He teased, leaning over to press a small kiss to your forehead. He turned his attention back to the omelet just in time to flip it are the right time, and it landed back in the pan perfectly. 

“You’re so domestic. I love you,” You joked back, pulling away to make you both cups of coffee/tea and set them at the table. “So what’s the plan for today?”

“As far as I know, we have nothing planned,” he replied, dishing up the omelet he made to share with you as he also grabbed some fruits he had cut up earlier before sitting next to you at the table. “We can do whatever you want.”

“That’s a slippery slope, Aron. Don’t give me that much power.”

~~

That night, Paul was pulled into a last minute mandatory call with Toto Wolff and Mercedes about who knows what at this point. You took it upon yourself to make dinner, one of Paul’s favorites. He was pacing around in the living room as you busied yourself in the kitchen.

You were just pulling it out of the oven when he ended the call, and you just set it down when he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up. He spun you around in a few circles, causing you both to laugh before he placed you back on your feet as you turned in his arms.

“I assume it was a good call?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his neck as you both made eye contact. His only response was to pull you close and kiss you hard, leaving no room between you. Despite not wanting to pull away, he pulled back with a huge smile on his lips. “Wow, that good, huh?”

“Guess who has a seat in F2 next season!” He exclaimed, tightening his hold on your waist as he bounced back and forth on his heels, unable to stand still.

“Hmm, let me guess. Dino?” You teased, causing his face to fall in mock offense as he froze entirely. You laughed at his expression before going back on your word, “No. Definitely not. I’m pretty sure it has to be Zak!”

He gaped at your exclamation as he rolled his eyes, “No. You’ve got one last guess.”

“Oh, one last guess? I better guess…” you hesitated in mock joking again to get a raise out of him, “Ralf?”

“Oh, you’re just fucking with me!” He shouted, pulling you in for a bone crushing hug again, swinging you around once again. “It’s me! I’m getting a seat!”

“I couldn’t tell!” You laughed as you tightened your hold on his shoulders. He set you down with a sharp glare as you smiled back at him. “I’m kidding. I figured as much. That’s why I made your favorite food.”

~~

It was too early to function, in your opinion, but you would not dare to oversleep on a day like today. Today was Paul’s first day in Formula 2, and you wanted to surprise him with breakfast in bed.

You carefully crawled out of bed, struggling to release Paul’s arms from your torso, and snuck out of the room. You made it to the kitchen where Ralf was making oatmeal or something already. 

“How did you get in here?” You whisper shouted as you walked toward Ralf. “I was going to make him breakfast in bed. You ruined my surprise, Ralf!”

“I have a key, did you forget?” Ralf chuckled as he set two bowls in front of you. “You can take it to him. I’ll hide out here and make the protein shakes.” 

“Let me check on him first. I’ll bring him out here,” You responded, turning around and heading back into your shared room to find Paul not in the bed. You looked around and saw the light in the bathroom on as well as the sound of the shower turning off. You gave him a couple of seconds before walking in, seeing him with a towel around his waist as he ran his hand threw his blond locks. You walked up behind him as he finished pulling on his boxers and jeans, wrapping your arms around him as he did so. “You’ll never guess who broke into the apartment.”

“Gigi or Ralf? My money’s on Ralf,” he laughed, leaning back into your embrace.

“Ding ding ding, we have a winner!” You replied in mock enthusiasm, jumping up to place a kiss on his cheek, immediately feeling the roughness. You pulled back quickly and made a face at Paut through the mirror, “Dang, you need to shave. I’m going to eat the food Ralf made!”

With that, you left him to finish up in the bathroom as you got started with your day.

~~~~~

© BAD268 2023. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[quigzahhutt]

my contribution to the F1 family tree conversation. the Mercedes family tree ✨✨

(click the image for higher quality)