#nico rosberg x female

[its-avalon-08]

I liked those song based fics!!! Can you do one about Nico Rosberg based on Love Again — Dua Lipa?

opened my heart again (nr6)

monaco, 2013. the air crackled with the electric anticipation of the grand prix. nico rosberg, steely-eyed in his mercedes cockpit, tried to ignore the familiar pang of loneliness. a year ago, a high-profile relationship with a model had ended in a blaze of betrayal. since then, nico had thrown himself into work, building a wall around his heart.

across the pit lane, amidst the flurry of activity in the red bull garage, stood a young woman, her sunshine-colored hair bouncing with uncontainable enthusiasm. this was y/n, a brilliant f1 engineer with a smile that could outshine the riviera sun. unlike most engineers, y/n wasn't afraid to chat with the drivers, her outgoing personality a stark contrast to the team's usual stoicism.

three months later, singapore grand prix

nico and y/n's paths kept crossing. they'd bump into each other at press conferences, share a laugh in the paddock, or find themselves seated next to each other during driver briefings. y/n, ever the extrovert, would pepper nico with questions about his car, his training, anything that piqued her curiosity. nico, initially guarded, found himself drawn to her genuine interest and infectious laughter.

i never thought i'd hear my heartbeat so loud

singapore, 2014. the post-race atmosphere crackled with champagne-fueled revelry and post-race dejection. nico, having finished a frustrating third, retreated to the mercedes hospitality area, a scowl etched on his face.

suddenly, a burst of sunshine entered the room in the form of y/n, a tray of cold drinks balanced precariously in her hands.

"hey, nico! congrats on the podium, even if it wasn't the top step," she said brightly, dodging a stray ice cube as a teammate reached for a drink.

nico grunted a response, not looking up from his phone. y/n, ever the optimist, persisted.

"seriously, though," she continued, setting the tray down, "your overtake on lewis around turn 11 was phenomenal. pure guts and precision."

nico finally looked up, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. he eyed y/n warily.

"what do you want?" he said brusquely, "do you need something?"

y/n's smile faltered slightly, replaced by a flicker of confusion. "just complimenting you," she said, her voice losing some of its usual cheer.

"for publicity or what?" nico shot back, his voice laced with suspicion.

y/n's brow furrowed. "stop doubting things that happen to you, nico," she said, her voice firm but kind. "not everyone is trying to take advantage of you or something. sometimes, people just appreciate good driving or a good person."

nico stared at her, the harshness momentarily draining from his face. he hadn't expected such genuine warmth, especially from someone on the rival team. maybe, just maybe, y/n was right.

as the night wore on, the technical talk faded into comfortable silences and shared stories. nico found himself confiding in y/n about his past relationship, surprised at the ease with which the words flowed.

i can't believe there's something left in my chest anymore

"you deserve someone who appreciates you, nico," y/n said, her voice soft. "someone who sees beyond the trophies."

nico looked into her eyes, a flicker of something new igniting within him.

a few months later

abu dhabi, 2014. the desert sun beat down mercilessly on the yas marina circuit. nico and y/n found themselves side-by-side in the shade of a catering tent, seeking refuge between practice sessions.

"ugh," y/n sighed, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. "this heat is brutal. makes me crave something sweet."

nico, still untrusting of easy compliments, raised an eyebrow. "cupcake, perhaps?"

y/n's eyes widened. "oh my god, yes! especially red velvet with that perfect cream cheese frosting. the kind my grandma used to make."

nico, who wasn't one for sugary treats, simply smirked. "sounds like pure sugar overload."

y/n nudged him playfully. "hey, don't knock it till you try it!"

the next morning, the pre-race tension crackled in the air. nico, focused on securing pole position, barely registered the commotion near the red bull garage. then, a delivery boy emerged, a giant box precariously balanced in his arms.

"uh, miss engineer?" he said, approaching y/n. "delivery for vivienne?"

y/n, who went by her middle name at work for professional reasons, looked surprised. "actually, it's y/n, but thanks!"

she peered into the box, her jaw dropping open. inside, nestled in a bed of shredded paper, were a dozen perfect red velvet cupcakes, each topped with a swirl of decadent cream cheese frosting. a small, hand-written note rested on top.

y/n unfolded it, a blush creeping up her cheeks as she read the single sentence: "hope these satisfy your sweet tooth. -nr"

i used to think that i was made out of stone

sebastian vettel, leaning against the red bull car, let out a low whistle. "someone's got a secret admirer, vivienne," he teased, a sly grin spreading across his face.

y/n shot him a playful glare, her heart fluttering. this wasn't just a cupcake delivery. it was a sign, a sweet, delicious sign, that maybe, just maybe, nico was letting his guard down a little.

five month later, italian grand prix

their friendship had blossomed. they'd celebrate victories together, commiserate defeats, and steal moments for stolen conversations whenever their schedules allowed.

one balmy italian evening, after a thrilling race that saw nico finish second, y/n found him sitting on the pit wall, head buried in his hands.

"hey," she said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. "tough luck out there, but you were amazing."

nico looked up, a flicker of despair in his eyes. "i'll never be good enough," he confessed. "not for the team, not for anyone."

y/n's heart ached for him. "nico," she said, her voice firm, "you're incredible. don't let anyone tell you differently." she sat beside him, their shoulders brushing. "and maybe..." she hesitated, then met his gaze, a blush creeping up her cheeks, "maybe you deserve to be happy again."

but goddamn, you got me in love again

the unspoken words hung heavy in the air. nico stared at her, his heart pounding against his ribs. in that moment, under the starlit italian sky, nico knew. he was falling for y/n, and the fear was a flimsy shield against the tide of his emotions.

budapest grand prix, 2016

budapest, 2016. the champagne had flowed freely on the podium, celebrating nico's dominant victory. now, the after-race party was in full swing, a blur of flashing lights and thumping music. nico, however, found himself drawn to a quieter corner where y/n stood, talking animatedly with a group of engineers.

he approached her, feeling a familiar knot of nerves twist in his stomach. "hey," he said, his voice barely audible over the music.

y/n turned, her smile lighting up her face like a beacon. "nico! congratulations again, you were incredible out there."

nico rubbed the back of his neck, a blush creeping up his cheeks. "thanks, but... well, the real accomplishment is you guys keeping this beast of a car running." he gestured vaguely at a passing red bull mechanic.

y/n chuckled. "we try our best, even with you drivers pushing them to the limit."

a comfortable silence settled between them for a moment, broken only by the pulsing music. nico cleared his throat, trying to formulate his next words.

"y/n," he began, his voice dropping to a low murmur, "i, uh... you're, like, really..." he trailed off, frustration bubbling up. how could he put into words the kaleidoscope of emotions she evoked in him? her intelligence, her humor, the way she lit up a room with her smile – it was all too much.

show me that heaven's right here, baby

before he could spiral further, y/n's hand gently touched his arm. her touch sent a jolt through him.

"nico," she said softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement, "you're rambling."

he groaned, burying his face in his hands. "this is hopeless, isn't it?"

y/n's laugh rang out, a sweet melody that cut through the noise of the party. she reached out again, this time taking his hand in hers. it was warm and soft, a stark contrast to the calloused grip of a steering wheel.

"where were you going with that, nico?" she asked, her voice laced with a playful challenge.

nico met her gaze, his heart pounding in his chest. "i was trying to say... well, i think you're amazing. kind, funny, brilliant..." he trailed off again, a helpless smile spreading across his face.

y/n squeezed his hand, her eyes twinkling. "and?"

nico closed the distance between them in one swift movement, his heart hammering against his ribs. before he could overthink it, he pressed his lips against hers. the kiss was soft and tentative at first, then deepened as y/n melted into him. the taste of champagne and something faintly sweet lingered between them.

when they finally pulled apart, breathless and slightly dazed, y/n's smile was wider than he'd ever seen. "maybe," she said, her voice husky, "you could have just started with that."

used to be afraid of love and what it might do but goddamn, you got me in love again

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more <3 happy reading!

leave a like! leave a note!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

[mynicosensesaretingling]

I have an ideaaaaa!

So, reader is a journalist and she's relatively new, she's supposed to be somewhere but she's super lost and bumps into Nico and she's like 'holy shit it's Nico Rosberg' and he's like 'oh wow she's so pretty' so he takes her where she's supposed to be and they talk the whole way cause it's like across the paddock and when they get there he's like "you're very adorable please let me take you to dinner after the race Sunday"

Chinese grand prix meet cute cause Nico slayed this weekend

To get lost is to get found

Note: Another request I have taken quite some TIME for, so once again my sincerest apologies <3 But life is busy and I genuinely loved this request so much, that I wanted to write it in peace. I genuinely hope you enjoy this and that it can make the long wait at least somewhat worth it :) <3 LOVE TO ALL OF YA!!

The Chinese Grand Prix paddock was alive with the frenetic energy of a race weekend, a cacophony of voices and activity swirling around (Y/N) as she navigated the maze of trailers and hospitality suites. Her head buried in her notes and her mind racing with thoughts of the impending pre-race meeting. Even after working in this position for several months now, the race weekends still gave her a rush of nervousness and excitement. Lost in thought, she unknowingly took a wrong turn and felt herself colliding with something…no, rather someone, sending her papers scattering in all directions.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, flustered as she scrambled to gather her notes from the ground.  "No worries, happens all the time." a somewhat familiar voice responded. Noticing the amused tone in his voice, (Y/N) looked up to find herself face to face with Nico Rosberg, the former Formula One champion, offering her a hand up.

Almost immediately, she could feel her heart skipping a beat at the sight of him, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, ever so slightly. "Nico Rosberg," she murmured, feeling a rush of excitement at the unexpected encounter.

Nico grinned down at her, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. "Guilty as charged. " His gaze studies her for a few seconds “Not to make broad assumptions, but it looks like you have absolutely no idea where you are going…”

“(Y/N)” she responds, a chuckle escaping her lips, as she took Nico's hand, her cheeks still tinged with pink. "And yeah, I seem to have gotten a bit lost." she shrugged sheepishly, as she dusted off her pants with her free hand.

Nico's smile widened as he gestured for her to follow him. "Well, lucky for you (Y/N), you ran into me. I’m an excellent tour guide you know, I can show you where you need to go."

Grateful for his offer, (Y/N) laughed “How kind of you.”, falling into step beside Nico as they weaved through the bustling paddock. 

Despite her initial nerves, she found herself surprisingly at ease in his presence, their conversation flowing effortlessly as they talked about everything from racing to journalism and everything in between.

"So, what brings you to the Chinese Grand Prix?" Nico asked, genuine interest shining in his eyes, as he turned his head to look at the journalist. Glancing over at him, (Y/N) absentmindedly tapped her stack of papers, "I'm here covering the race for my publication. It's my first time in Shanghai, and I have to admit, it's quite the experience."

Nico nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, as he shifted his focus back in front of him. "It's a unique circuit, that's for sure. I'm sure it’ll offer you plenty to write about." He paused, a cheeky smile on his features, as he turned to her once again. “And in case it doesn’t, you can always interview me, you know.”

Furrowing her brows in a teasing manner of thought, her eyes find his. “Oh and why do you think people would want to read about you?” 

Stopping in his tracks, Nico raises his hand to his chest, gasping in mock hurt. “Excuse me, I am THE Nico Rosberg, former World Champion, excellent reporter and the world’s best paddock guide. What isn’t there to like?”

(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh at Nico's playful banter, feeling a sense of warmth and camaraderie growing between them with each passing moment. "Well, when you put it like that, how could anyone resist?" she teased, playfully nudging his shoulder as they resumed their walk.

Their conversation continued to flow effortlessly, weaving through topics ranging from their favorite racing memories to their shared love of travel and adventure. As they walked, (Y/N) found herself completely engrossed in Nico's stories, his passion for the sport evident in every word he spoke. 

"So, (Y/N), tell me," Nico began, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "What made you want to become a journalist?"

The woman smiled, a nostalgic gleam in her eyes as she thought back to her childhood. "I've always loved writing," she explained. "And I've been a fan of Formula One for as long as I can remember. So, combining the two just seemed like a natural fit."

Nico nodded, a look of understanding crossing his features. "I can relate," he admitted. "There's something special about being able to share your passion with others."

The former driver paused for a second "It's incredible how our passions can shape our paths in life," he remarked. "I've always felt a deep connection to racing, ever since I was a child watching my father compete. It's been a part of me for as long as I can remember."

(Y/N) listened intently, captivated by Nico's words. "That's amazing," she said, her voice filled with admiration. "To have such a strong connection to something from such a young age."

The blonde shrugged modestly, his eyes reflecting a hint of nostalgia. "It's just always been a part of who I am," he said. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

For the rest of their way through the paddock, (Y/N) found herself sharing a comfortable silence with Nico. There was something about his easygoing demeanour and genuine interest that made her feel at ease.

Before she knew it, they had reached their destination – the room where the pre-race press meeting was being held. Reluctantly, she bid Nico farewell as she prepared to enter the meeting, a sense of warmth lingering in her chest at their unexpected encounter.

But as she turned to go, Nico's voice stopped her in her tracks. "Hey, (Y/N)," he called out, a hint of nervousness creeping into his tone.

(Y/N) turned back to face him, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "Yeah?"

Nico hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching hers before he spoke. "I was wondering if you'd like to go to dinner with me after the race on Sunday. I'd love to get to know you better."

Her heart skipped a beat at the unexpected invitation, a smile tugging at her lips. "I'd like that," she replied, feeling a surge of excitement coursing through her veins.

“I’ll make sure to find you then.” Nico promised, the softness in his smile and tone threatening to melt her right then and there. Reaching a hand around (Y/N), he opened the door for her. “You better go inside now though, can’t have you fired before I get that chance to take you out to dinner, can we.”

"Yeah, I wouldn't want that," (Y/N) replied with a playful grin, feeling a rush of warmth at Nico's gesture. "I'll see you on Sunday then."

With a final smile, she stepped into the room, the door closing softly behind her. As she settled into her seat among the other journalists, her mind was still reeling from the encounter with Nico.

Throughout the entirety of the meeting, her thoughts kept drifting back to him – his easy smile, the warmth in his eyes, the genuine interest he had shown in her. She couldn't shake the feeling that their dinner date on Sunday was going to be the start of something special.

As the meeting finally drew to a close and the other journalists began to filter out of the room, (Y/N) lingered behind, her mind abuzz with anticipation. She couldn't wait to see Nico again, to continue their conversation and see where this unexpected connection would lead.

With a smile on her face and a flutter of excitement in her heart, she gathered her things and made her way out of the room. 

Sunday couldn't come soon enough.

[vettelsvee]

MEETING | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | history series masterlist

history series season 1: part 1 | part 2.1 | part 2.2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

summary: diana, after being accepted as a candidate for the toro rosso internship program, begins her not-so-wonderful journey in the world of formula 1 and meets her future husband, sebastian vettel, as well as her biggest nightmare, nico rosberg

word count: 5568

warnings: mentions of suicide, sexism.

taglist: [@theseerbetweenus @annewithaneofthegreengable] if you wanna be tagged in each part just tell me in the comments <3

¡! you can read the fanfic as diana or y/n, but the faceclaim will always be my girl emma stone :)

feedback is truly appreciated!

2023

"Diana, are you ready?"

The woman's attention was immediately captured when Mark Webber, who had offered, along with Jenson Button, directing the documentary, spoke to her. Quickly, she put her mobile phone in her blazer pocket and nodded at the former driver, indicating that she was ready to start filming.

"Alright," Mark announced. "Remember, Diana, just as we rehearsed with your husband during the script reading: you introduce yourself, talk a bit about what you're currently doing, and then we start talking about your childhood, just from when you were born until you were accepted into the Toro Rosso internship program," the Australian said.

The readhead swallowed, sat better and looked directly into the camera, that was already recording without the woman being conscious.

Immediately, as if she knew what was happening, she began to speak to it:

"My name's Diana Vettel, I'm 34 years old and, as you might already now, I'm wife to four-time Formula 1 World Champion, Sebastian Vettel. However," she clarified, "I prefer to be known as his race engineer for ten years, from 2012 to 2022 and, currently, I'm the co-director, alongside Susie Wolff, of the F1 Academy," she smiled proudly.

Sebastian entered the studio where the shootings were taking place, and when he saw his wife so self-assured, he couldn't feel anything but proud of her. There was no doubt that those sleepless nights, consoling her tears for not feeling enough in a male-dominated world, and the years of visits to her psychologist, which she still attended, had had an incredible effect on her.

"Well, wait!" Diana suddenly exclaimed. "We can't forget that I'm the reason behind Seb's first victory in Formula 1. Monza 2008, to be more precise," she confirmed, causing laughter from the ones around her.

"We already know quite a lot about Vettel's childhood, but now: what can you tell us a little bit about yours?" Button inquired, sitting next to Mark behind the cameramen.

Diana tensed up. It wasn't that she was afraid to recall her childhood, but she didn't consider it significant enough to be in the documentary. Moreover, talking about her private life... let's just say she didn't like it a lot.

The German knew his wife so well that he could vence how she was feeling at the moment. She had the urge to get up and give her a comforting hug, but he also knew that the recording couldn't be interrupted. For that reason, he simply smiled at her from his seat while giving her a thumbs up.

Diana, after seeing Sebastian doing that, laughed.

Since 2008, halfway through her second year as a Mechanical Engineering student and after joining the Toro Rosso internship program, she didn't know how the guy who initially seemed to be a jerk, ended up becoming her whole world.

"It's quite simple, Jenson: I was born in Linz, Austria, on April 27, 1988," began the woman. "My mum decided to end her life when I was 14, back in 2002, and that was the main reason why my dad took both my sister and I to Spain so we could start all over again."

Diana stared into the camera, beginning to ponder the impression people might have of her after that brief introduction.

Mark adjusted himself in his seat, ready to shift the conversation away from the glances Sebastian seemed to be directing at him. He had been fortunate to get to know the couple during his time at RedBull, and he had no doubt that both of them had changed a lot since then, especially the German.

“But every bad thing has something positive, right, Diana?” questioned Webber. “You always say that, and the fact that you’re here now is proof of it.”

“Exactly,” continued Jenson. “This might sound a bit bad, but if that didn’t happen, you wouldn’t have met Seb.”

Mrs. Vettel nodded.

“It was all because of my father actually, who couldn’t bear the stares from neighbors, his coworkers, and the harassment my sister and I faced at school too,” explained the woman, her tears slightly evident. “We did it without thinking: we packed our most important belongings, my father quit his job and, a few hours laters, I was on a plane all the way to Barcelona, with no knowledge of Spanish and no expectations about what could happen in my new life.”

That made Sebastian remember one of the first conversations he had with Diana, where the young woman told him she felt more Spanish than Austrian.

“This is the first time I speak publicly about my childhood,” said Diana, wiping away smeared makeup with a tissue given to her by production. “I’m sorry, really: I always try to think that I’ve overcome it, but the fact is that you never really overcome it.”

“Do you feel more comfortable now that you’ve shared this with the audience?” Webber inquired in an attempt to console the young woman.

The redhead looked at Sebastian, who was visibly concerned at that moment.

“No,” she replied, “quite the opposite, actually. I think I’m even more vulnerable now, and social media criticism is going to pour in, but I’m glad I did it because I’ve taken a weight off my shoulders,” she listed, “and I also know that many viewers will realize the importance of mental health, especially in those moments when everything seems fine when it’s actually the opposite.”

“Is that a hint, sweetheart?”

Vettel, who already knew the answer, sarcastically commented. Still, he needed his wife to confirm it on camera.

“Everyone knows that when I gained confidence in myself, I never beat around the bush; this wasn’t going to be an exception.”

“What do you think is the highlight of your sudden move to Spain?” Button asked Diana.

“Being accepted into the Toro Rosso internship program,” she replied. “That’s when my dream of years started to come true, although hell also made its presence felt.”

Sebastian smiled, remembering it all too well.

The best was about to begin.

“Those who know me well know that I’ve been a Formula 1 fan since I was a child. 1994 is the year I remember the most, especially when Michael became world champion,” explained the Austrian, reminiscing early memories as an enthusiast of the sport. “I was only six years old, but that image is engraved in my memory.”

“For that reason, I decided to study Mechanical Engineering at Universidad Politécnica de Cataluña,” the woman continued in perfect Spanish, surprising everyone in the room except Seb.

“And that was before she even met me,” Sebastian chimed in, causing laughter among those present. “That was a great bonus.”

Taking the documentary seriously was going to be difficult, but as the woman used to say, within all those hard times, a laugh made it all forgettable.

“I studied for years, trying to give my best to get the highest grades,” Diana continued, “and I did it after achieving an average score of 9.28 out of 10 in selectividad, the Spanish entrance exam you need to take in order to study a degree.”

“Tell them if you really needed such a high score, Di.”

The girl laughed at her husband’s comment. She already knew where he was going with that.

“In fact, no: the cutoff score was, I believe, around a five out of ten. I just pushed myself to the limit because I was ambitious and wanted to be the best, too,” she smiled, a slight blush appearing on her cheeks. “Well, and I still like to be the best.”

“See why we got along so well from the beginning?”

“That’s debatable, Sebastian,” remarked Webber, “bet let’s let the viewers hear your story little by little.”

“Indeed, Mark,” agreed Jenson Button with him, “let’s take it step by step. Diana, what made you join Toro Rosso?”

2007 December 3rd

Barcelona, Spain

The first semester of the second year of Diana being a university student seemed endless.

Final exams were approaching, bringing with them the submission of multiple papers, projects, and even some practical written tests. Adding to this, her father had recently lost his job just a few weeks ago. It was easy to understand why the Austrian, who had considered herself Spanish for years, was dozing off in one of the chairs in Room 7, even though it was time for one of her favorite classes: Fluid Mechanics.

As soon as Dr. Martínez stepped into the classroom, all the students stopped talking. Even Diana, who had closed her eyes for a few seconds to see if she could quell her sleep, opened them quickly. The woman, in her fifties, was one of the most beloved professors by students; at the same time, she was considered one of the strictest, and that's what made her one of the most wanted by universities not only in Spain but worldwide.

For this reason, and especially because she always fought for visibility of women in the scientific field, she was Wagner's favorite.

"Good morning, class," she greeted, positioning herself in the center of the platform where she usually lectured. A smile on her face appeared. "Before I start explaining the new topic, which I remind you is the last one for our January exam, I would like to share some news that I know will be interesting for most of you."

At these last words, those present began to pay even more attention, readjusting in their seats curious about what the woman had to announce. Diana was no exception.

"Some companies in the field of engineering have started offering scholarships for students like you to work with them while continuing their studies. For the most talented, I must say," she added with certain authority in her voice.

Excitement and anticipation for the announcement filled the room, where some surprised noises and, in other cases, disappointment, were heard.

"These scholarships offer the opportunity to have a unique experience, allowing you to enter the workforce earlier than expected. At the same time, it will help you start applying everything you have learned during this brief year and a half, and see if you are suited to do the job."

Murmurs began to fill the class. It was a truly incredible opportunity, and it would be rare for someone not to want to be part of it.

Diana, whose mind was always one step ahead, was already wondering which companies would be part of it. For that reason, she decided to raise her hand to ask.

"Miss, I would like to know if you could share more information about the companies that are offering these scholarships."

The woman nodded, thankful for the question from her favorite student and pleased to see her interest once again.

"Of course, Diana. There are leading companies in the field of automotive engineering, aerospace engineering, and something related to renewable energies, which are becoming popular. Each one has a different focus, with a wide variety of projects and areas, so I'm sure there will be interests for each of you."

The young woman's mind began to process all the information, looking through the possibilities the woman had mentioned. While her dream was to work in the automotive world that she was so passionate about, and the path was proving extremely challenging, the possibility of being awarded a scholarship was what made her cling to a distressing hope.

"To apply in this sort of internship program, you will need to send your CV and a letter explaining to the company why you would like to join them," the teacher explained. "Then, some responsible figure of the respective companies will choose the most outstanding students, I guess."

During the remaining class time, Diana could barely pay attention to the explanation. She was excited, and she would dare say scared, about this kind of talk that was taking place. Her innate curiosity made her want to know more. Therefore, when the teacher announced that the class had ended, and her classmates began to leave the room, the twenty-year-old started to pack her things slowly, making sure no one else was there before speaking with her teacher.

"Dr. Martínez, do you mind if I ask you some questions about the internship program?"

"Of course," she replied as she gathered her documents. "Tell me what's on your mind, Diana."

The girl tried to disguise her nervousness, clearing her throat before speaking.

"I have doubts about whether to apply to any of the companies. Honestly, I don't think they'll choose me because I'm a woman. I sometimes struggle to talk to my classmates, so I can't imagine what it would be like for me to apply for a position like that."

Martínez raised her gaze to the redhead, now dyed blonde, full of understanding.

"Diana, I understand that you're worried," she began, placing her hands on her shoulders, "but I want you to know that you are one of the brightest students I have had in these months, and I would even venture to say in my entire teaching career," she explained sincerely, earning an excited smile from the girl. "Keep in mind that, whatever you do, your gender doesn't have to be an obstacle for you to fight for what you want."

Those last words resonated strongly in Diana's mind, who was quite moved at that point. That was exactly what the young woman needed to hear.

"Also, I’d like to tell you something I haven't mentioned in class because I only want you to know, given your interest in a certain topic," the woman continued, further catching the student's attention. "The Toro Rosso Formula 1 team is offering a single position as an assistant for a race engineer, but I don't know which driver in particular."

Diana's eyes widened, not believing what she had just heard from her teacher. The idea of working in Formula 1 was the reason why she was there, striving every day even when she felt like giving up everything.

"Do you think I should send them my application, then?" Wagner asked, intending to make sure before making a hasty decision.

"Absolutely," Dr. Martínez affirmed firmly. "You are an exceptional student, and you have demonstrated great skills in just a year and a half of your studies, which impresses me quite a bit, to be honest. You have the potential to do great things within Formula 1, and I know you will go far if you make it to the sport."

As Diana continued to listen to the woman speak, she couldn't believe there was a chance, even if it was minimal, that her dream would come true. What she didn't like so much was the fact that the woman spoke as if she were already inside the world, but she could do nothing but get excited.

If her application was denied…

“By the way, Diana, are you free during the next hour?”

“Yes. In fact, I was about to head home,” answered Diana, questioning the woman in front of her. “Do you need something?”

The woman affirmed, nodding slightly.

“Let's create your cover letter and resume so we can send it as soon as possible,” she said, taking the lead. “I'm sure many of my colleagues in the department know this information just like me.”

The young woman agreed, and immediately they headed towards Martínez's office, trying not to attract too much attention among the students and, above all, hurrying as much as possible. In those moments, time was of the essence.

Once there, the professor took a seat in front of the computer and offered Diana the seat opposite her. Before the redhead had even let go of her belongings, the teacher was already pulling a stack of papers and a couple of pens from one of the desk drawers.

"Your resume comes directly from our database, but the cover letter doesn't," she explained briskly. "I want you to write down whatever you feel is the reason why you need that position at Toro Rosso."

Having said that, Martínez put on her glasses and focused her gaze on the screen, ignoring Wagner. The girl didn't know what to do or say. Who was she supposed to write to, Franz Tost? No, she was sure team bosses weren't the ones in charge of reading those letters, if anyone read them at all.

"Try to make it as natural as possible," the woman commented to her student without looking at her. "Make them see that you have a passion for engineering, for the sport, and especially, make them miss you when they haven’t met you yet."

Make them miss you when they haven’t met you yet.

Diana took a deep breath and began to let her ideas transfer to paper, flowing without much thought.

Dear members of the Toro Rosso team, it is an honor to have the opportunity to apply for this internship position in your prestigious racing team. Since I was a child, I have always dreamed of being part of the wonderful world of Formula 1...

No, too fanciful and flattering. The young woman crossed everything out, and seeing that she was starting to feel confused, she crumpled up the paper and set it aside on the corner of the table.

Dear Mr. Tost and the rest of the Toro Rosso team: I would like to express my sincere interest in the position of race engineer intern. As a Mechanical Engineering student, I have acquired skills that I would like to develop professionally and, above all, apply them to the field I have been passionate about since I can remember.

Why was it so difficult to write something just to try to make your dream come true?

Pilar Martínez glanced at Diana and shocked her head. That girl who was showing so much insecurity at that moment, as happened in many classes, had the potential to become one of the greatest prodigies in motorsport.

"Don't overthink it, lady," she said affectionately. "Show your true personality and, if you need to, just take a little break before continuing."

The girl shook her head. She simply closed her eyes and imagined what she wanted most at that moment: her, sitting in front of a wall of screens, with headphones on, communicating with Michael Schumacher about what he should do in every turn and straight, when he should pit for a tire change, and even celebrating the occasional victory.

Who said Schumacher, said Alonso. She would even settle for one of the rookies, like that guy who joined Toro Rosso halfway through the previous season and she liked a little bit, Sebastian Vettel.

After several more attempts, she finally brought out everything she wanted to say. She had never felt so proud of any of her writings; not even with her graduation speech in high school, which made the entire teaching staff cry.

Dear members of the Toro Rosso team, With my heart filled with excitement and, especially, gratitude for the opportunity given to university students like me to be part of your team, I submit my application for the internship position as a race engineer. My name is Diana Wagner, I was born in Austria nineteen years ago, and my heart not only belongs to Spain, the country that welcomed me when I needed it the most, but also to the sport of which you are a part: Formula 1. My journey as a Mechanical Engineering student has been short, but I assure you, intense; at the same time, I have grown and learned a lot not only as a future professional but as a person. Throughout this year and a half, I have acquired a wealth of skills and knowledge thanks to the professionals from whom I am fortunate to receive instruction, and if it weren't for them, I wouldn't have the necessary preparation to face certain challenges—although, not deceiving you, I have a long way to go and much to learn. Every subject studied, project completed, and tear shed has been an opportunity to test and prove to myself that even the impossible is difficult. Beyond my knowledge as a student, I would also like to tell you about my passion for the world of motorsports, as I briefly mentioned before. Since I can remember, I have followed every free practice, qualifying, and race, as well as every press conference of each Grand Prix. The deafening sound of the engines, the suffocating speed of the single-seaters, and the passion that teams and drivers have shown have not only been my inspiration to pursue my studies and shape my future but also to grow as a person. In the darkest times of my life, Formula 1 became my light, and it still is. Like drivers work tirelessly to give their best, I also strive to overcome the limits imposed not only because I am a woman, but also because I am too hard-working. Therefore, I know that the opportunity to work alongside the professionals that make up your team would be an unparalleled honor, and I assure you that every day I would show you that I am capable of more. I deeply appreciate the time you have taken to read my cover letter. Although it may be hard to believe the words of a girl who, after all, is still a teenager trying to make her way in the adult world, I assure you that I have to prove much more than what you think.

Possibly, those last words were what made it possible for Diana Wagner to be the selected candidate as an intern at Toro Rosso among approximately two thousand of the best students from all over Europe.

2008 March 13th

Australian GP

“Sweetheart, are you sure you have everything with you?”

The bleached blonde was certain that she did, that she had everything she needed for her new job except for one detail and, surprisingly, the most important one: knowing where she had to go. In front of her was the entrance to Albert Park, and all she felt was a great overwhelm from the size of that circuit. She saw people coming in and out of the venue constantly, both walking and in vehicles that probably cost as much, or even more, than the flat she lived with her sister and father in Barcelona.

“Yes, of course,” she replied, trying to sound as calm as possible. “I'm waiting outside for someone to come and meet me."

“But didn't you say you had to go inside, and that someone would be waiting for you in the box?”

She hated how blunt Amelie was.

“I'm more lost than during my exams period when we first moved to Spain,” she joked. “Now I'll try to figure out what to do. There’s no need to worry about me.”

Bernhard started shouting something in German to his younger daughter, and immediately continued talking to Diana. It seemed surreal to the girl that her family was making a phone call with her at two in the morning in Spain.

“You better get in there, even if you have to jump over a fence!,” he shouted in German, a little annoyed. “And I don't care if you get caught or anything: you haven't traveled to the other damn end of the world and left me with your sister, all alone, just for you to stand there with your arms crossed.”

When Bernhard Wagner got angry, he did, and a lot.

“Yeah, Dad, I know,” she replied, a bit angry because her father seemed not to trust her. “In fact, I'm getting closer now, I have the pass they sent me by mail in my hand, and I'm going through the accreditation with this weird machine. I'll hang up, okay?”

It was a rhetorical question because Diana, before being able to hear an answer from her father, hung up the call. As she let out a long sigh, held in throughout the phone call, she passed her accreditation through the identification sensor, but the photo they asked her for months ago didn't appear.

Again, she tried, and nothing appeared on the screen. She kept trying over and over, which managed to attract the attention of more than one of those present, who did nothing to help the intern.

“Damn it…”

After that, Diana began to unleash a string of curses in German, some of which she had made up on the spot and made no sense at all. She couldn't believe that it would be more difficult than she had planned just to enter the venue and talk to whoever she had to talk to. She was a firm believer in destiny, and she knew that it meant she had to go back to Spain, to her natural hair color and to her university courses.

Frustration was taking over the Austrian, and she was sure that, if she hadn't heard a male voice in German beside her, she would have burst into tears like she never did before.

“Do you speak German too? Do you want me to help you with that?”

Diana nodded her head and looked up at the person who was talking to her. A blond guy, of medium height, who seemed to be a couple of years older than her, was the one who was talking to her. His face was somewhat familiar, although she still couldn't put a name to it.

Another mistake for the rookie Diana Wagner. Of course, if there were other interns besides her, she was sure she wouldn't win the Intern of the Year award, if such a thing existed.

“I tried to get my accreditation to work, but, as you can see” she began to explain, pointing at the card, “it doesn't want to let me into the paddock.”

“Do you mind giving it to me?”

The girl offered it to him without hesitation, feeling much more relaxed in the company of that driver, in case he was. He proceeded to clean it a bit with his shirt a couple of times and immediately passed it again through the scanner.

Her name, along with a photo of her with her newly dyed blonde hair, appeared on the screen.

“So... Diana Wagner, huh?,” the guy inquired, wanting to know more about her. “What brings you here?”

“As they told me a few months ago, I am Toro Rosso's new intern. Supposedly, I'll be subordinate to a track engineer or something like that, I'm not really sure what I'll end up doing.”

The girl answered him honestly, and to her surprise, the stranger seemed to understand something that had been on her mind for a long time, as if he already knew who she was.

“Vettel is going to be damn lucky to have you,” he said shamelessly, “and I would be delighted to have a girl like you by my side too.”

Diana felt her cheeks flush, and although deep down that comment had bothered her, she couldn't help but feel flattered in part.

“And are you supposed to be...?”

“Nico Rosberg,” he took the girl's hand and gave it a short kiss, “F1 driver for Williams. It's an honor to meet you, and let me tell you that, if you get bored with the other blond German, you have privileged access to my box whenever you want.”

Putting on his backpack and giving the girl a slight bow, he left without giving any explanation.

Diana was left bewildered by what she had just experienced. However, even more impressed was Sebastian, who began to feel sorry because he knew that, no matter how much that blonde-haired girl tried to give her best, they would only minimize her achievements.

[...]

After a couple of laps around the circuit, and some explanation of how Formula 1 Grand Prix weekends worked, Diana Wagner was already sitting at a long table with Franz Tost, Toro Rosso's team principal.

The man, despite showing a quite serious demeanor, maintaining composure at all times, had inspired enough confidence in the intern for her to open up a bit to him, especially talking about how her career was going; they also discussed how the blonde would balance her studies with her new job. All this while her supposed boss and the driver she would be subordinate to appeared.

A few knocks on the door startled her. Tost, as if he already knew about the imminent arrival, got up from his seat and headed to the door. As soon as he opened it, it revealed a man in his thirties accompanied by a boy who was already wearing the team's uniform.

Although he looked like Rosberg, at the same time, she could tell he was completely different: his face was longer, and his height seemed to be a few centimeters shorter. He had a big smile on his face, and as soon as he entered the room, he started making jokes that even made the girl laugh.

She barely knew that boy, and he already inspired trust in her.

“Alright, Diana,” announced Franz, causing her to stand up quickly: “this is Alex, who will be, let's say, your master in terms of track engineering,” he introduced the man, shaking his hand, “and this is Sebastian Vettel, one of the young promises we are lucky to have in our team.”

The blonde cheerfully extended his hand to the girl, who accepted it gladly.

“Please, Franz, don't say that,” joked Vettel, “I'm just a kid with incredible potential waiting to get a world title or something similar.”

The intern laughed, immediately regretting it. Her shyness was showing, and Sebastian noticed it, so that's why he decided to gently stroke her hand, slowly enough so that no one else, besides them, would know about that small gesture.

“See?,” said the German, now addressing his engineer, “I told you she was going to like me.”

2023

“That season was a mess,” said Sebastian, looking at the camera while fixing his hair. “The first four races ended in a DNF, and my motivation went down completely” explained the former driver. “The car was crap, but not finishing four damn races? Shit, I didn't want to say bad words…”

“What Seb means,” his wife stated, interrupting him, “is that he had much higher expectations in March 2008, and little by little, he started being conscious of reality. I went through the same thing: even though I thought I was going to do little, I ended up doing even less.”

The documentary directors recalled that information.

“The camera is yours, Mrs. Vettel,” one of the cameramen spoke over, receiving a thumbs up from the redhead.

“There's not much to say, really, except that I remember thinking about leaving because all I did was sit in front of the screens and watch the race just like I did from the TV in my house,” she expressed a bit angry, remembering everything all too well. “And of course, the comments and looks couldn't be missing. I felt like a Playboy model sometimes, I swear. They even mistook me for a grid girl one day entering the pit lane!”

“God, yes,” Seb agreed, joining his wife's monologue. “I don't know if you guys remember,” he pointed at Jenson and Mark, “but there were times when, I swear, it felt like it was more of a Jersey Shore-type show or something like that than a race weekend.”

Diana agreed with the German.

“I think, if I remember correctly, I received a total of forty-eight requests to go out for a drink from Friday to Sunday,” she tried to remember. “Well, a drink and a sex session after that, let's be honest.”

“And I'm glad to say that I wasn't part of that group of assholes,” he covered his mouth directly, receiving a reprimanding look from Webber. “But I had a reason not to.”

“Yes,” the redhead agreed, “although it's not the time to talk about that. Remember sunshine: let's go step by step.”

“It's not to stay on Sebastian’s side,” interrupted Button the couple's dialogue, “but since the moment he first met you, he had incredible respect for you, and I would even dare say admiration.” Vettel snorted, remembering some of the many rumors the girl he fought so much for had to face. He remembered more than once hearing her going to vent in Toro Rosso's bathroom, and even on more than one occasion, he heard her secretly talking to her father, asking him to please fake some illness or something to get out of that.

Ironically, it came true.

“I've been Diana Vettel's number 1 fan since the day I met her,” confessed Seb. “Since March 13, 2008, to be more precise.”

Everyone was impressed by Sebastian's memory, including Diana.

“In addition to the announcement made during the German Grand Prix week, where it was finally revealed that you would join Red Bull the following year thanks to Coulthard's retirement, becoming my teammate,” Mark continued, laughing, “there was another event that marked you in 2008, shortly after.”

“It seemed like everything was going downhill for this lady here,” Sebastian pointed at Diana, “and for me, and that our effort was in vain.”

“But Monza changed everything because Sebastian and I discovered that, together, we could do great things,” continued the woman, trying not to kiss her husband, who had a huge smile on his face, in front of everyone.

[skywalker1dream]

masterlist!

welcome to my masterlist

Sv5

interview with four time works champion

monaco memories

new beginnings

joyful gatherings

Unexpected Encounter

lost in each other's arms

brighter than the stars.

the mystery

High-Speed Desires

Cs55

stuck with the stranger | part two | part three

unknown feelings | part two | part three

spin the bottle | part two | part three | part four | part five

web of obsession | part two

you don't own me

Love, Laughter, and Appendicitis

Obsessed

Sv5 and Jb22

driven by friendship

JB22

Obsession in Overdrive

bound together by destiny

hope

FA14

side by side

CL16

a day to remember

The Champion's Prize

NR6

The uncertain future

MH

Northern Lights

MV33

Thrilling ride

Safe Haven

DR3

Honey badger jr | part two

[delicateflappizzaplaid]

Nico Rosberg

#nr6

← Main Masterlist

[minkyungseokie]

I’m in major need of some requests rn. I have the other fics ready to go and I’ll be raising them when i have time, but I want to write for the barely written drivers like Yuki, Zhou, Pierre, Esteban, Liam, and more!! I really want to write for Danny too and Nando

I think I’ll start doing this once a month. Opening my requests for a few weeks or so and then close it once a month. I barely get requests anyway, so I think I’d be able to do this.

Don’t worry, I’m still working on Three’s a crowd and Driven by destiny, but I want to start writing for the barely written

I write for everyone on the grid except Bottas, Hulkenberg, and Kmag

Look at my Masterlist to see who I write for

Before you request:

Autosports Masterlist

How to request

Drivers only please. No tps or staff

[s-st4rg1rl]

okay so bc some reasons that i'm too lazy to explain hshshsh i started another blog and i will post everything i posted here there and i will delete this one so go follow me there!!: @st4rg1rl-16

[ham1lton]

— a spinoff from the nepo!sis universe, what if you were the first female driver in formula one?

-> pairings: tba!

-> key people: mrs fluffkins as your cat. gavin as your race engineer and surrogate father. y/s as your younger sister. jo as your ever suffering pr manager.

-> author’s note: this is supposed to be a collaborative process!! so feel free to send in scenarios and ideas for our girl as this will constantly be getting updated.

tags -> all related works will be here.

main works.

YOU’RE STILL YOUNG (THAT’S YOUR FAULT) — your rookie season isn’t going well and you’re really feeling the pressure. after a particularly gruelling week, your sister is worried and calls in emergency help. that’s how sebastian vettel ends up on your doorstep on a rainy thursday afternoon.

QUESTION TIME? — being the only female driver on the grid means being the unofficial spokesperson for women in motorsports and you’re tired of it.

CASUAL — you expected dating to be difficult with your job but you didn’t expect to be having a debriefing with nico rosberg about your love life. but hey, when in monaco right?

WELCOME TO MIAMI — after the miami grand prix, you and some of your fellow drivers go out for karaoke and drinks for ‘bonding’ according to a certain lando norris.

MISS BAD MEDIA KARMA — after a night out, the media is alight with rumours and speculation about your romantic life. most people would call a pr meeting, you go through the funniest rumours on instagram live and rate them out of ten.

THERE SHE GOES — you win your first race and navigate all the chaos that follows. includes your iconic glossed camera kiss and social media’s reaction.

STREETS — you arrive in austin a little early, perfect time to go for a drive! you have the car, the playlist, charles leclerc, the vibes, the snacks - wait… CHARLES LECLERC? how did he sneak in your car? and why is this drive… kinda fun?

extras.

TEN THINGS F1 DRIVER Y/N L/N CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT. — the anticipated gq interview. it’s pretty straightforward, content is in the name.

Y/N L/N GOES SNEAKER SHOPPING W/ COMPLEX - formula one driver y/n l/n goes shopping with complex’s joe la pluma in new york and talks about her favourite shoes, her forage into fashion, her dependence on sneakers and buys her whole family a pair.

alternate universes.

HE SAYS TO BE COOL (I DON’T KNOW HOW YET) — after a party at a mutual friends, you and jenson are photographed leaving together. the large age gap causes concern especially after your earlier admission that you had a crush on him as a young driver. ⋗ jenson button x maneater!reader.

[cheriladycl01]

Ghost - Oscar Piastri x UnknownDriver! Reader Part 3

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

Credit to yrsonpurpose for the GIF

Standing up on the podium, not being able to do anything as you watched Oscar run off was torture. You had to stay there while your national anthem played that should have been amazing considering it was you, Lewis and Lando all up there together.

And of course, there were no breaks for you afterwards. Everyone wanted you, from SkySports, to F1, to Netflix. Everyone was throwing questions at you and asking how different your achievements feel now knowing that your the first woman to have completed many of them.

You were fine answering them, because like they said. All of your previous achievements were now bigger than they were as Ghost. People could tell that you weren't fully with them, you were a little spacey and sometimes struggled with hearing and answering the questions.

Most of them put it down to the post race fuzz of the win and revealing who you were, but upon getting to the Sky Sports Team who consisted of Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg, Natalie Pinkham and Danica Patrick questions turned sour.

"So Y/N aside from racing we caught light of Oscar Piastri's quick depart after the reveal, any insight on this?" Danica asks, making you look down.

"I don't think these questions are necessary" Jenson says just as the Red Bull PR manager was about to ask for racing related questions only.

"Yes please stick to racing questions only" the Red Bull PR backs up, nodding before taking a step back. You look back up, straight to Nico who had a soft look on his face.

"I'm just interested, you raced for Alpine last year when he was a reserve driver... for Alpine and you've been promoted to Red Bull this year while Piastri's made the move to Mclaren. Can't help but wonder if its underlying sexism that's made him this mad, you all cant deny he was blunt and rude in his interview with us earlier" Danica pushes and you head snaps up. You feel a hand on your shoulder as if to stop you from what your about to say but you go ahead anyway.

"I've hurt a dear friend. So how dare you stand there and try to victimize me, when he is the one that I've hurt. He knew me as Ghost's assistant and media manager... we were close and I've not been truthful to him for obvious reasons. So don't stand there and try to make him out to be a misogynistic twat when he isn't. I don't know what you experienced in NASCAR Danica but in F1 all I've experienced today is love and support. Just because your sport sucks doesn't mean mine does" you snap, and recoil shocked that you'd just said all of that. She looks at you also in shock, Jenson and Nico were trying to stop their laughter.

"Well, some strong opinions there from Y/N Y/L/N" Jenson says as he watches you turn away and walk off. You were done with interviews for the day. You just wanted to find Oscar and talk to him now.

"Lando! Lando" you shout as you see the curly haired boy ahead of you walking into the Mclaren motorhome.

"Hey, Y/N or should i say Ghost" he smiles before pulling you into a hug.

"I was not expecting that bombshell today, and I will admit I'm sorry for assuming you were some ugly guy... your very obviously not" he laughs.

"Where's Oscar" you ask, you didn't want to seem rude but of course he was your priority right now.

"Y/N, I don't think its a good idea to see him right now. I think maybe just wait for him to come to you. He's upset and" he starts but you look him dead in the eye.

"He upset me too, he just ran off... at my first race win" you say as selfish as it was... but he also ruined that experience for you.

"I know, but you did like lie to him for just under 2 years" Lando says softly not wanting to rattle your already unstable cage of self hatred.

"And what was i supposed to do Lando, tell him a secret that Red Bull had me sign an NDA over and break my contract and risk loosing my seat?" you ask, hoping he would start to understand.

"Look Y/N you really should go..." Lando pushes looking around the area you were currently in. He put a hand on your lower back as to guide you back out, but you planted yourself still.

"No, I'm not leaving till i talk to him" you grunt.

"Y/N I'm telling you this as your friend and your co-worker. You need to go" he says, you'd actually never seen his eyes this serious before and it had your head cocking to the side in confusion.

As your about to ask him why the hell he's being so twitchy, two people stumble out of the next room a little disheveled and both laughing. You eyes lock on them.

"O-Oscar?" you ask in shock, the girl looks up at him confused and his face turns red but also a sour expression comes onto his face.

Before any of them can say anything your turning away from them, everything feels slow motion, all the voices around you blur and your heartbeat comes erratic.

You couldn't understand why it hurt so much, the thought of him not even for a moment being happy for you up on a podium that he come here to be with some other girl ... or was it because in the time you'd spent with him you'd fallen for the racer.

You round the corner, stumbling behind the Mclaren motorhome so that you could just breath. You crouch down, your head leaning back against the side.

"Fucks sake" you say to yourself, once you'd calmed yourself from the initial shock you fully sat down on the metal edging outside the Mclaren motorhome.

"Y/N?" you hear a voice ask, your head peaks up and you spot Alex and Logan.

"Oh, hey guys. Great Race today!" you smile.

"Why are you just sat outside the Mclaren motorhome?" Logan asks raising an eyebrow at you.

"Oh, erm no reason. I just got lost on my way back to Red Bull" you smile standing up and walking to the long strip and turning left.

"Your still clearly lost, Red Bull's that way" Alex says pointing to the right hand side, that you weren't facing.

"Right, yeah i knew that" you smile, turning round and scuttering off the other way.

To say that the UK was the start of something spectacular was an understatement. You didn't go out and celebrate that night, you stayed in with your family.

The next race was Hungary where you proceeded to take the win away from Max in the last 3 laps, being on the fresher tires. They asked you to let Max take the win but you begged for them to let you fight it out. You shared the podium with Max and Lando, in Spa you came second, sharing the podium with Max and Charles and in The Netherlands you came 4th.

Throughout all of this Oscar hadn't reached out to you. You'd kept in contact with Lando, asking how he was and what had been going on. However Monza changed things.

An article came out about an interview Oscar had done about you and how you hadn't spoken to him since. He hadn't spoken very nicely about you when all you'd done was stick up for him. You guys got into a massive argument outside the garages that of course people caught on camera.

You had a really bad qualifying, the car just didn't have pace and your mind wasn't in the right place. So you were starting P14 on the grid, after a cry to Christian that you were so overwhelmed and him assuring you that it was today that really mattered.

You had turned off everything when you got in the car on the Sunday. No thoughts in your head just the racing. On the start you managed to get yourself to P12 overtaking Liam and Nico right of the bat.

"Excellent start Y/N lets keep pushing"

Martin Bundle - I have to say that Y/N is incredible with these races where she starts down in the back of the grid, and she gets those amazing starts where she slips in the middle of the two drivers ahead and is able to confidently get herself up too places

"Okay, and Alonso are ahead, you have DRS" your engineer tells you, and you are able to overtake Yuki who doesn't go as aggressively into the chicane as you do. You have a little spin but recover enough to pull up aside Alonso on the straight, going for the overtake.

"Amazing Y/N, that's P10 right now. Keep pushing"

Eventually you were left fighting Carlos, Max clipped a tire and was now down in 4th fighting with Charles.

"Y/N this has been a fantastic race, from P14 up to P2, Carlos is 1.8 second ahead. Lets get him and bring home a double podium. Max is fighting for P3 right now. 5 laps to go" he advises.

"Tell him to speed up, I'll give him DRS we can overtake Sainz together so its a 1.2" you advise looking seeing the Ferrari behind you. You slow down on the hairpin, breaking early, which Charles didn't expect where he was concentrating on defending from Max. You speed up, watching as he spins out a little leaving room for Max on the inside.

"Okay, Sainz has sped up there's now a 2.6 second gap"

"Copy that" you say, Max was using your slip stream, but didn't go for the overtake, you easily defended from Charles together while gaining on the other Ferrari.

"Okay last two laps, Sainz, 0.3 second gap"

"Yeah i can fucking tell I'm riding his rear end" you say, the minute you get onto the straight you and Max both go either side of Sainz, sandwiching him in as your about to go into turn 11. He breaks early falling back leaving you to take the optimal racing line and get ahead of Max.

"Is Max fighting this last lap?" you ask.

"He's been told is free to fight. Mode push and bring us another win" your race engineer advises, you breeze through the final lap, it was a close call but you came first.

"Y/N Y/L/N winner of the 2023 Italian Grand Prix" your race engineer says a big grin coming onto your face as you flip up the visor holding your fist up as you see all the Red Bull crew cheering for you on the fencing.

"Where did Oscar place?" you ask, you hadnt thought about him up until now. Even as you passed the orange 81 car, it was just another car then.

"Not a good race for Piastri, P12 behind Lawson"

"Okay. Thank you for the great drive today. Thank you Christian" you say before preparing yourself for the podium.

Would Oscar be there?

Taglist:

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[waterlilydrops]

Fortune Favors the Ambitious (1/?) - Second Driver

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x fem!driver!reader

summary: your first step into the F1 world: becoming the second driver for Mercedes. This is the part 1 of a female racer’s story, encompassing her victories, failures, pain, weaknesses, and love.

word count: 6k

warning: mentions of brocedes, mentions of sexism, descriptions of crash scenes, screw with some race results

note: this is my very first try of a series story, suggestions are appreciated! This fanfic contains a lot of roasts about drivers, cars and the sport itself, if it offends you, I apologize.

You joined Mercedes AMG in your first year to step into the seat unexpectedly vacated by Nico Rosberg, who had just staged a feud with Lewis Hamilton. After four years of intense and ruthless competition, Rosberg finally won his first and only WDC this year. Then he chose to retire and took a seat in the media box.

This passionate friendship story between a pair of childhood friends and prodigies did not end well in the end. Instead, it became another dismal footnote to F1’s primeval law: there are no true friends in the paddock, vividly proving that the best way for two drivers to remain good friends is to stay away from each other, to not become teammates.

After races, drivers from different teams could still complain to each other, saying things like “my poor understeercar” and “oh, don’t even mention it, my team took 13.4 seconds to pit”; They could console each other, saying, “Hey, it was tough for everyone, but I felt like if…, you would definitely make it to the podium, bro”, “Of course you would too, I knew you were awesome”and so on. Comforting each other with this kind of contradictory exchange, satisfyingly smoothing over any discomfort caused by competition, forgetting moments like “he almost hit me and caused me DNF” and reassuring themselves with “there’s a difference between on and off the track, it wasn’t his fault, I would have done the same thing”.

It was indeed hard to accept when two drivers, despite having the same performance cars and theoretically receiving equal support, one of them was harshly differentiated, forced to do the dirty work, give positions to their teammates, only to be simply comforted with phrases like “Oh, we treated them fairly, it was just that one performed a bit better”, “Drivers needed to establish team spirit and help each other”.

What? Why did it always seem like one was helping the other?

F1 was not essentially a team sport. 20 drivers competed for one championship.

However, it was really a team sport. A team of thousands of people surrounded the two drivers in the team to serve, not out of charity, but for real returns like money and impression. Therefore, it was inevitable that the team was eager to maximize the group’s interests. The necessary sacrifice spirit for the team and the endless selfish desire of the individual to win formed an eternal contradiction in the paddock.

This blunt competitive pressure, the often unfair team environment, and the resulting jealousy, anxiety, and uneasiness could make even a saint sitting in a cockpit at temperatures reaching 70 degrees explode mentally, hurtling at over 320 kilometers per hour towards their teammate's wheels, sidepods, or any other position. And then being retaliated against with the same hatred by the other party.

As the curtain fell on the drama, no matter what, Mercedes had to find a new recruit.

The opportunity to enter F1 is by no means easily within reach.

You were the lucky one. Not only were you naturally talented, but you also came from a rich family who could support your move to the UK for karting training. You had parents who unconditionally helped you chase your dreams, and in lower-level racing, you had hardly faced any financial difficulties. It was well known that kids from the slums could gather to play football made by newspapers, but the road for a racing driver was paved with gold. Thanks to your parents’ connections, the process of finding sponsorship for higher-level racing surprisingly went smoothly: half of the interested sponsors backed out the moment they saw you were a woman, while the other half chose to take a gamble.

You’re unlucky. Being female is your natural disadvantage in this male-dominated sport. When you started to shine in GP3 races, you felt deeply powerless knowing that as a woman, you had to do better than boys just to get the same opportunities — boys only need to showcase talent and skills to be considered by higher-level teams, while you get questioned about “whether emotions will affect your stability” and “will your period affect your performance”. It's absurd. You even couldn’t possibly get the same chances as boys in big team future programs. Let alone testing in old model F1 cars, you had very few opportunities to even test on F1 simulators. You chose to grab the lifeline thrown by Marussia and become their reserve driver.

From blockbuster rookie to seasoned driver, you dominated GP2 for two years. You and the boys used the same engine and the same frame,You didn’t have a driver dad, so there is no F1 team engineers to adjust the car for you. you relied solely on your talent and determination. You won 9 races, stood on the podium more than ten times, and became the champion with the highest points in the history of GP2.

A brilliant result that forced F1 teams to seriously consider their driver lineup.

“Who will fill the empty the seat at Mercedes?”

“Why Y/N Y/LN is the next big name?”

“Is she the first female F1 driver of 21 century?”

Indeed, why not? Why not have given a deserving female driver, who had already proven her mettle, a chance to shine on the world stage? Offer her a one-year contract — allow her to break barriers and challenge norms in a traditionally male-dominated sport. With her presence alone, she brought invaluable media exposure to the team, each stride she took destined to be immortalized in the annals of history alongside the illustrious name of her team.

After testing in simulator, you sat in front of Toto Wolff and several executives. Only you knew that there are six or seven GP2 drivers vying for this seat, not to mention F1 drivers who want to drive the Silver Arrows.

“If your teammate — I’m not specifically referring to Lewis Hamilton, this is just a hypothetical scenario — if your teammate, he is in the state of competing for the championship, and due to some accidents in a key game, he unfortunately falls behind you and another rival from another team, what would you do?” Toto asked, his gaze seeming to pierce through the soul.

You remained unexpectedly calm. Without hesitation, you answered, “I’ll push the first-place car away, allowing Hamilton, who’s in third, to directly take the lead and win the championship.”

After the interview, during the debrief with your team manager, she sighed at your answer. “You should have played it safe,” she said, “You should have said something conventional. Talk about helping him defend, giving him room, and if necessary, try to fight for the title yourself. That’s the standard answer. Don’t let them perceive your aggression and ambition.”

You couldn’t agree with that.

You knew Mercedes just want a driver for Lewis Hamilton who won’t tear the team relationship and the car to pieces.

But if winning hadn’t been your ultimate goal, you wouldn‘t have chosen the path of racing. You should go get an MBA to help with the family business, and from then on, your biggest connection to racing will be attending hometown races as a sponsor.

And the word “ambitious” described you perfectly. You certainly had an insatiable, oversized desire. In a paddock where victory had long been claimed by men, you boldly stepped forward to stake your claim, ready to seize what was once exclusively theirs and make it your own.

You might always remembered that cold autumn day in London.

The basement was filled with dry warm air and the smell of sweat, each breath feeling like burning hot coals in your lungs. Your sweat melded with the rough wooden floorboards. Your breath echoed in the empty room, accompanied by the dull thud of dumbbells hitting the ground, like a lonely symphony.

The phone rang just as you stepped onto ground.

You stared at the blinking name of your agent on the screen, your heartbeat quickening, your fingers trembling slightly. What would this call bring? Fifty-fifty, your confidence and self-doubt intertwined: you were the best young driver of your generation, bar none—if you didn’t get the seat, no one would. Yet, reality also coldly reminded you that perhaps no team would be willing to take a chance on a female driver, right?

You answered the phone, your agent's voice urgent on the other end, like a mother scolding a child who had caused worry: “Y/N, you finally picked up! I've called you twenty times! I thought something happened to you!”

“Sorry, I just finished training. What’s going on?” You tried to keep your voice calm, but inside, it felt like countless hands were squeezing you, making it almost impossible to breathe. Countless possibilities flashed through your mind, and you were even afraid to know the outcome, fearing it would shatter your hopes. If you missed the next season, you didn’t know if you’d ever have such a good opportunity again.

She took a deep breath, the one-second pause feeling like an eternity to you.

Thankfully, her voice regained excitement.

“Y/N, you’re driving in F1 next season.”

Despite the chaotic emotions swirling within, your voice was much calmer than expected. “So, which team decided to take the risk?” Just a week ago, you had met with Williams team, who had a precedent of accepting women as reserve drivers. You had tried so hard to control the slight trembling of your fingers due to nerves and sound nonchalant. Entering F1 had already been a dream come true, but the thought of driving for the Silver Arrows — waves of excitement surged through your mind, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might leap out of your chest.

There was almost an uncontrollable smile in her voice as she responded, as if every word was pulsating with joy. “Mercedes. You’ll be the second driver for the team.” You could almost feel her excitement transmitting through the signal.

Your mind went blank for a moment, your heart racing, as if all the voices in the world had disappeared in that moment. Only that word echoed incessantly in your mind. Mercedes.

“Is this... is this real?” Your voice trembled slightly.

“Of course it is real!” Her laughter held a hint of pride. “Mercedes has already sent a draft contract, we discussed some details, and we could announce it before the awards ceremony.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your emotions. “Thank you, thank you for all your support and help.”

“You deserved this, Y/N. Go celebrate tonight.”

In just two minutes, the rain in London had soaked your hair, droplets sliding down your cheeks, blending with your clothes. But you didn’t feel uneasy about it; instead, you felt a sense of joy blending with nature. You even felt like this ordinary rain was celebrating for you, baptizing you for your mission.

You knew you were ready to face the storms and rainbows of the racing world.

“Mercedes AMG F1team: Y/N Y/LN will line up alongside Lewis Hamilton in 2017”

“There is no doubt about Y/N’s skill and determination. Although F1 is extremely demanding on physical strength, she has proved that she is fully capable of meeting challenges.”

“Can women truly compete with men in extreme sports like F1? I have my doubts. Is this just a gimmick by the teams to attract attention and sponsors? Can she really make results? While gender equality is a noble idea, F1 requires the best drivers, regardless of gender. Is she truly capable, or is she merely a symbolic choice?”

Perhaps your unnormal answer touched the executives, and you had been granted a one-year, highly demanding contract—although they may have been satisfied with your willingness to be a second driver, whether you could be a consistent and unwavering second driver, that was still a cruel, untested new question for the team.

The first winter break as an F1 driver was eventful, even more so than you imagined. You had countless forms to sign, filming videos for promotional content was a daily task, and there were endless meetings with engineers. You met your race engineer — a talented woman full of potential. You couldn’t wait to see how your performance together would unfold in real races. Meanwhile, the media swarmed, eager for exclusive interviews, and even Vogue wanted to feature you on their cover before you had ever sat in the W08.

Your first meeting with your teammate was for simulator testing. You’ve crossed paths with him on various occasions several times — during a race, at FIA awards ceremony — but this marks the first time you met Lewis Hamilton as his teammate.

You shouldn’t have been fixated on this, but you felt Lewis Hamilton had far more charm than any video or picture could capture.

You still remembered the moment he pulled you into a hug. His black eyes shimmered with warmth, and despite his muscular arms, his embrace made you feel comfortable and secure. It was hard not to gaze at the tattoos on his smooth skin as his voice, gentle yet magnetic, with a slight British accent, said, “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Hello, Lewis. I’m so glad to be your teammate.”

“The honor is mine. Perfect GP2 season, huh? Highest-scoring champion.”

For some reason, you were glad he noticed your achievements — not as a female driver, but as a driver. Not with labels like the first female F1 driver of the 21st century.

“Thank you, Lewis.” You tried to remain as calm as possible, masking the subtle excitement within.

Lewis lightly patted your shoulder. “We’ll do a mega job together this season.”

You nodded. “We will, I’ll give it my all.”

You didn’t disappoint anyone.

On March 26th, your first race in your F1 career took place in Melbourne, Australia, and you smoothly made it onto the podium, not at all like a rookie. In the following four races, you secured three second places, making people to cry out about how damn fast the W08 was. Some even said that even the rocket car would seem reserved compared to a car could turn a rookie into a podium driver like that.

Of course, the fans who watched the race didn’t attribute your performance solely to the car’s speed.

You had abandoned your aggressive driving style, making your car flow smoothly like water along perfect lines, calmly following Lewis Hamilton. Anyone attempting to overtake you found themselves ensnared in your relentless defense.

Whether it was starts, tire saving, or long runs — things rookies often struggled with — you performed exceptionally well. Your only technical weakness seemed to be overtaking, but this flaw was completely offset by the W08’s superior performance. And to the team, being bad at overtaking was an advantage. After all, the only car usually ahead of you was Lewis’s. Why bother being good at overtaking?

Mercedes could only rejoice at your precise and forceful defense and your unwavering support in driving and escorting.

Lewis’s viewpoint evolved over time. At first, he might have entertained thoughts like “two more races and she will demand more chances”, but as he witnessed your performance on the track, his sentiment transformed to “damn, she’s really something special”. It was a gradual realization, punctuated by moments like when you quietly secured yet another victory for him.

Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Lewis finally broached the subject in cooling room. “You had fresher tires. Why didn’t you ever try to overtake me?”

“My contract states that without team orders, I can’t overtake you.” You couldn’t help but notice the slight embarrassment in Lewis’s expression.

“Besides,” you continued, offering a smile, “I’m not that good at overtaking anyway.”

Your first victory came in the first GP after the summer break, at your home race. With such an outstanding and eye-catching local rookie driver, it was undoubtedly the biggest event of the year for fans.

The stands were packed, every corner filled with enthusiastic supporters waving flags, cheering, and shouting encouragement for you. It was more than just a race; it was a celebration, with the entire city immersed in joy and pride.

Your path to victory, however, was full of surprises.

Initially, Mercedes executed back-to-back pitstop strategy perfectly. Kimi's second pitstop should have put him between you and Lewis or right behind you, where you could block him. But the Mercedes pit crew had an unusual difficulty; they struggled with the left front tyre, leaving Lewis in the pits for a staggering 11.4 seconds. By then, his chance for the win had disappeared. He dropped to 7th place and took 13 laps to fight back to fourth, eventually getting stuck battling Sebastian for third.

Meanwhile, you and Kimi were locked in a wheel-to-wheel duel for a full five minutes.

Since you entered the pits right after Kimi, you were behind him when you came out. Your tires were in exactly the same condition. Even though theoretically this year Mercedes’car had more advantages, you were not good at overtaking, and you were stuck in a stalemate despite your best efforts.

At this moment, your race engineer on the radio confirmed that Lewis had no chance of winning and encouraged you to push for the win.

You bit your lower lip as you looked at Kimi ahead of you.

For the first time all season, a burning emotion surfaced clearly and definitively in your mind: you felt you could do it. Not with your usual rational judgment, but with an adrenaline-fueled belief. You could prove that you were not just a reliable team driver but one of the best in the sport. This time, you were destined to stand on the top podium and become a champion.

Your fierce competition elicited constant gasps from commentators and audiences.

“Y/LN is now the sharpest blade of the Silver Arrows — just two laps to go! Turn 2!

Räikkönen cuts inside perfectly! It’s useless! Y/LN remains calm, anticipating as if living in his mind!”

You knew your home track inside out —Turns 1 to 3 is a combination of gradually tightening corners, and Turn 15 at the end of the back straight connected the highest speed on the circuit to the slowest turn — ideal for overtaking.

Your head ached as if a blood vessel might burst, but your mind was excited. You tried to breathe calmly, reporting speed, tire condition, balance to the team with a steady voice. On the final straight, you and Kimi both opened the DRS, crossing the line under the checkered flag.

The next thing you remembered was the fireworks whistling through the sky. Lewis pulled you out of the car, hugging you excitedly, jumping up and down with congratulations — finish line footage and speed checks had confirmed you won, just 0.05 seconds.

The crowd erupted, celebrating the first home championship in history. You sat on top your car, waving to the fans and staffs.

Waiting, stepping onto the podium, spraying champagne.….. Kimi and Lewis both aimed their first sprays at your face. You closed your eyes, letting the champagne flow down your cheeks as if they were your own tears. The crowd’s celebration roared through the night, with every face radiating pride and excitement because of you. Your rookie season, your home race, your first victory. It felt like no moment could ever be more perfect.

“Y/N Y/LN to Make Herstory as First F1 Female Race Winner”

“From Rookie to Champion: Y/N Y/LN’s Epic Battle with Kimi Räikkönen for Victory”

“Yes, it’s been a rollercoaster ride. We made mistakes but did a great job of fixing them and finished with 1-3 podium.

The duel with Kimi was intense; I have to give him credit for pushing me to my limits.

I want to thank the fans who came out today and those who sat in front of their TVs to support me. Winning in home means a lot to me.

No, I won’t overemphasize the meaning of this winning. It’s just one of many in my F1 career. Soon, everyone will get used to a female driver winning races. I believe that.”

Your performance gradually stabilized in the following races. Even if you didn't become a race winner again, you consistently finished in the points. While your peers were still vying to be the team’s core, you miraculously silenced the haters by winning third place in the WDC, earning a three-year, higher-paying contract with Mercedes.

In such a friendly atmosphere, it was hard for your relationship with Lewis not to warm up.

On the track, he would wholeheartedly defend you when he was behind, and off the track, he acted as your mentor, helping you get rid of the bad mood caused by self-doubt. He always skillfully handled awkward questions from journalists for you and knew the best restaurants in every race city.

After you declined Lewis’s invitation to go skydiving during the winter break, he invited you to his home. There, you met his family, who gave you warm hugs just like his. His nephew brought out a bunch of your merch for you to autograph, saying he supported you in every race.

In the 2018 season, although Mercedes maintained a dominant position, they encountered formidable competition from other teams, most notably Ferrari. This rivalry intensified throughout the season, reaching a climax at the German Grand Prix, where fans were treated to a spectacular and dramatic spectacle.

Mercedes’ race strategy was essentially centered around you — Lewis’s car had a mechanical failure in qualifying, starting from 14th in Hockenheimring.

Even though the W09 was fast enough, starting from the back made it easy to get caught in traffic jams. Lewis needed to overtake as many cars as possible before the rain starts, and you needed to push hard to challenge Seb, aiming for the win if possible. At the very least, avoided crashing into the barriers. This increased your pressure, as Mercedes was 20 points behind Ferrari in the Constructors‘ Championship, and today’s points would likely depend mainly on your performance.

Started in the front, you found yourself locked in a tense battle with Sebastian’s Ferrari, the red car a formidable obstacle in your quest for victory. Today Ferrari was incredibly fast on Seb's home track.

In between two prancing horse, you feel quite passive, all you could do was patiently wait for their mistakes. The good news was that Lewis was climbing up, and there were soon two Mercedes among the front runners.

The sky started to rain, making the track slippery and driving more difficult, leading to a flurry of activity in the pit lane as teams scrambled to switch to wet tires. You weren’t particularly good in the rain, now was also not a good pit stop window for you. So you had to move the brake bias during the race to deal with the tricky conditions, keeping your W09 on the race line.

“I got a bit of a tankslapper on, but I managed to get it back.” The race was a bit challenging for your soft tyre.

“Good job, Y/N.”

However, when the rain got worse and more widespread, Seb lost control at Turn 11 and crashed into the barriers — the turning point. The safety car was deployed.

The team radio crackled to life, the voice of your race engineer guiding you through the chaos. “Y/N, Box, box, box.” you made pit stop for new tires under team orders during the safety car period, while Lewis decided to stay out on track at the last moment.

What a genius decision. During the 20 seconds the pit crew was searching for the tires, your only thought was being glad that Lewis didn’t came into the pits, with a mix of sadness and relief. Otherwise, a double podium would have turned into a double disaster.

Thankfully Kimi pitted on the following lap. Amidst the chaos of the race, there was a dramatic and rapid reversal of fortune. As the rain shower began, what initially looked like a dominant 1-2 finish for Ferrari was swiftly transformed into a commanding 1-2 lead for Mercedes.

“Now Lewis Hamilton is back in his faithful P1, Y/N Y/LN has exited the pit. Let’s see if she will challenge her teammate with those fresh tires—”

“What position am I?”

“P2, Lewis is ahead, Kimi is behind.”

“Copy. Tell Lewis I am backing Kimi; he can pull out the gap.”

In the post-race media pen, it was no surprise that Natalie Pinkham asked you about not attacking Hamilton in the final stages of the race.

“Y/N, congrats on your P2,” she began, “today’s race was very exciting, especially your performance in the rain. But I have a straightforward question—why didn’t you try to attack Hamilton in the last stint? Your tires were much fresher, and you could have won the race. From aiming for the win to defending for Hamilton, do you feel any disappointment?”

“Thank you for asking what every fan wants to know,” the surrounding journalists chuckled in unison. “Firstly, I’d like to say all decisions were in the best interest of the team.”

You paused for a moment and continued, “The track was still very slippery at that time, and I think under those conditions, only Ferrari fans would want to see me attacking Lewis.”

You emphasized, “I didn’t want to risk the team’s success for my personal victory. We were 20 points behind Ferrari before the race; now we’re leading by 23 points. That’s the best outcome.”

Before interviewing the next driver, Natalie turned off the microphone and gave you a hug. “Y/N, you did great. You are too good to be a second driver.”

Even Lewis came to talk to you after the race.

Mercedes rented an entire club to celebrate the 1-2 finish. You could enjoy free from the worry of tomorrow’s potential gossip about your dance partners. It was a relatively relaxed atmosphere until Lewis approached you.

You repeatedly assured him that his win was his own achievement — P14 to P1, mega job. Even if you hadn’t defended Kimi in the last few laps, he would have won because Seb had already retired. No matter how stupid Ferrari might be, they wouldn’t risk a double DNFs.

Lewis might not have been so careful in the past, but perhaps the constant arguments with Rosberg and the millions of euros in car damage over the past few years have taught him something.

A common misconception people had was, with the team’s favoritism, good cars, and a second driver assisting, even a dog could win WDC with such treatment. The flaw in this logic was, why would a team favor a backmarker?

A driver’s success was not solely based on team strategy or car performance. While these elements were crucial, the driver’s skill, determination, and ability to execute under pressure are what truly made the difference.

While theoretically any racer driving a Silver Arrows rocket had a chance at the title, but Mercedes didn’t pour over 400 million euros into the F1 team each year to nurture rookie drivers. Champion drivers didn't win because of good treatment; they earned the best treatment by first becoming champions. Lewis performed exceptionally well, so the team rallied around him.

Of course you understood it.

You had so much to improve, you had to wait patiently, knowing that opportunities might be scarce for a long time. You needed the most resilient determination, the keenest judgment and insight — neither slipping into inertia and fatigue due to the former, nor becoming anxious and impatient due to the latter. Like a leopard in hiding, you had to wait for the right moment to strike, with the sharpest claws and the fiercest gaze.

After the German Grand Prix, the chatter among fans about Mercedes’ unshakable dominance and the remarkably close bond between you and Lewis became the talk of the internet. The media eagerly fueled the flames, dubbing you both the paddock’s “power couple”while some fans affectionately joked that you were Lewis’s housewife on the track, who helped him clean up opponents on the track. It was certainly preferable to the spiteful remarks from haters who accused you of being nothing more than Lewis’s doormat.

As you shared the amusing sarcastic comments from fans at Lewis’s home in Monaco, your “son” Roscoe circled your feet, while your “husband” was casually dressed with his hair down, making fresh juice, trying to persuade you to move to Monte-Carlo.

“My husband definitely wouldn't be your type.”

Lewis paused his work, ready to hear your grand declaration. “I need a trophy husband — beautiful, hot, who loves me wholeheartedly but isn’t too needy. The season is long, and I'm very busy. But when I need him, he has to show up at the paddock immediately, so he can’t have a job or be in school.”

A hearty laugh escaped Lewis’s lips, “When I retire, I might meet those standards.”

“No way, I’m not letting you retire. I’m a knight defending your WDC titles.”

He was nearly crying with laughter, “So, I’m Princess Lewis now?”

You thought Roscoe barked in agreement.

Obviously even the most seemingly perfect couples have their arguments.

As the red lights went out, Lewis Hamilton, fueled by his desire to win and yesterday’s pole position, launched into the lead, dominating the track.

Starting from 4th, you made a smooth start and stealthily slid into third, effectively sandwiching Max Verstappen between the two Mercedes.

The Australian Grand Prix was nothing short of spectacular. In the final three laps, Max relying on Red Bull’s brilliant strategy decisions, continued to close the gap to Lewis. No one could tell if he would overtake at the last moment.

“Hamilton is still leading, but the tire wear is too fast. If nothing changed, he might be caught in the last lap and a half.”

Mercedes’ strategy team was in overdrive, their headsets buzzing with a cacophony of contrasting tones.

On one side, Lewis was calmly asking, “How many seconds is Max behind me?” On the other, you were rambled concerns, “These tyres are dead at the rear, and please give me Max’s speed—”

Alternating between the two drivers, it was enough to make the engineers’ brains, which had been operating at high speed for over an hour, overheat and crash.

Bono was heavily reporting to Lewis about the worsen tire conditions, preparing him mentally to be overtaken, while on your end, you received information about the lap times of Charles Leclerc, who was closely chasing behind. You were also comforted with an assurance that you should hold on and most likely secure third place.

You didn’t understand: “Hey girl, I didn’t ask about Leclerc.”

Then, he must be fourth. With three laps to go, was the team giving up on the champion? You felt this wasn’t right.

“Please tell me Max and Lewis’ lap times,” you calmly inquired again.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, you won’t overtake Verstappen, the tires—”

“Lap time.” you forcefully interrupted. Because with the tires heavily worn, it was unlikely for you to overtake Verstappen and take second place, but causing trouble for him and allowing Lewis to get to first place was a different story.

Let’s hope you wouldn’t fly off the track.

But the racetrack wasn’t exactly God’s territory, as most drivers’ prayers rarely got answered. So, the worst-case scenario happened.

In the second-to-last lap, you were side by side with Verstappen in Turn 4, and two seconds later of wheel-to-wheel competition, your left rear tire finally couldn’t hold on, causing the car to lose balance and fly off the track at over 300km/h, dragging the Red Bull alongside it.

Charles Leclerc, miraculously jumping from fourth to second, was startled, sliding on the track and looking in disbelief at the disappearing Mercedes of Lewis Hamilton, reporting in shock over the radio, “They’re both out! Are they okay?”

“Plan B, Plan B!” The engineer screamed frantically, signaling Leclerc to focus and cross the finish line. Suddenly aware of his miraculous rise to second place, Monegasque sweetheart quickly stepped on the pedal, preventing Magnussen from overtaking him from behind.

In the grandstands, team pits, and commentator boxes, screams of excitement erupted uncontrollably. But amidst the sand and stones where Max and your cars had sunk, you felt like even the air was quiet, as if the thundering engine sounds couldn’t penetrate the helmets and cockpits.

Your only thought was that you had indeed fulfilled the promise you made in the interview, to push Lewis’s competitor out.

Lewis celebrated for five minutes before realizing what had happened behind him. Then, the joy of victory disappeared completely.

He remained silent, his expression turning cold, after confirming that the podium ceremony wouldn’t start for some time, he returned to the garage.

You slouched on the couch, a soft pillow under your head, but you still couldn’t control the dizziness, nausea, and urge to vomit. Fortunately, you could still count fingers and remember everything, so it was probably just a mild concussion.

You felt a little sad. Maybe this was where you differed from male drivers. You couldn’t train the most aesthetically pleasing thick necks admired in the paddock, so your ability to resist g forces was weaker that you got a concussion with just a slight bump.

You raised your head and saw Lewis’ stormy expression. His anger was evident, with a cold face and tightly pursed lips.

“Listen, Y/N, I don’t need you to do this, I can—”

“Please give us a few minutes alone, please,”you looked at the staff in the room, and they tactfully left, leaving the room quiet again.

He continued to shout at you loudly, “I can win on my own, and if I can’t win, it’s my own damn fault. I don’t want to use these methods, and I don’t t care about how your f*cking second driver contract—”

You looked quietly at his excited face, patiently listening to his volcanic eruption. When he finally stopped, you extended a hand to signal that you also wanted to say something.

He crouched in front of you, you wanted to touch his shoulder, but your hand trembled and ended up on his neck. Well, damn. You were too weak to resist.

So you gently touched Lewis’ neck and jaw, softly saying like petting Roscoe, “I swear to you, Lewis, this was really an accident. I didn’t mean to crash, just wanted to buy some time... but the tire still blew. You know, these things happen all the time, it’s just this time... it’s a bit dramatic.”

You could see Lewis was uncomfortable with your hand. After a few seconds, he also apologized in your gentle touch, “Hey, you make me feel guilty. I probably couldn’t win anyway, which is annoying —but I can win next time. I don’t want you to get a concussion just because I want to win.”

“So are we good?” you tried to force a smile,

“Only you promise me you won’t do anything dangerous next time.”

You nodded, locking eyes with him.

“Pinky promise?”

You raised your trembling hand, a physiological reaction from your brain losing control. But soon Lewis’ hand came over, giving your hand something to lean on, so it stopped shaking.

Contracts written in black and white often protect the cost of betrayal, while Ineffective childish promises always encourage true feelings and trust. You stared quietly at each other for a moment, then Lewis held your hand and gently kissed it.

His voice was a little hoarse, “Just trust me a little more, okay?”

to be continued

[its-avalon-08]

Nico Rosberg x reader, age gap, she's at a GP. Jenson Button is her friend, and he introduced Nico with a "This is Britney!"

its britney bitch (nr6)

anon note : I forgot to clarify, about Nico x musician reader, the age gap she could be just 3-5 years younger than him....

The roar of the engines vibrated through your chest as you stood beside Jenson in the Monaco paddock. The air crackled with a mix of nervous energy and adrenaline, a feeling you were very familiar with despite not being the one behind the wheel. Jenson, your best friend since your teenage days in the McLaren Young Driver Programme, was gearing up for another shot at the podium.

"Alright (Y/N), ready for some action?" Jenson grinned, his usual infectious enthusiasm washing over you.

"Always," you replied, returning the smile. You weren't a driver yourself, but music was your track, and the high-octane world of Formula One was your melody. You were here not just to support Jenson, but also to perform at the after-race party.

Suddenly, Jenson nudged you with his elbow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Speaking of action, check out this driver I want you to meet." He turned towards a tall blonde man walking towards them, his face etched with a determined focus.

"Hey Jenson," the man greeted, his voice surprisingly melodic for someone who seemed to live life in the fast lane.

"Nico, this is (Y/N)," Jenson said, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "(Y/N), this is... Britney."

You blinked, thrown for a loop. Britney? A nickname for a championship contender like Nico Rosberg? Before you could question it, Jenson winked. You realised it was a reference to the good-natured paddock ribbing Nico often faced about his supposedly "pop star-ish" looks.

Nico, catching your surprised expression, chuckled, a hint of amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Jenson's a comedian, don't mind him. I'm Nico." He extended a hand towards you, and you took it, surprised by the warmth that spread through your palm.

"Nice to meet you, Nico," you replied, your voice a touch breathless. There was something undeniably captivating about him, an aura of quiet intensity that hummed beneath the surface.

The conversation flowed easily, despite the age gap of four years between you. You discovered a shared passion for electronic music, Nico confessing a secret love for your latest album. He listened intently as you spoke about your upcoming performance, his blue eyes sparkling with genuine interest.

The playful banter between you and Nico was undeniable. You teased him about his "Britney" nickname, and he countered with a playful jab about your supposed rockstar lifestyle. The air crackled with a current that had nothing to do with the high-powered engines surrounding you.

By the time Jenson was called away for a pre-race briefing, you and Nico were lost in your own conversation, oblivious to the world around you. As you laughed at one of his witty remarks, a thrill shot through you. It was clear this wasn't just a casual paddock meet-and-greet; there was a spark, an undeniable connection.

The sound of roaring engines jolted you back to reality. The race was about to begin. You squeezed Nico's arm playfully. "Go get 'em, champ," you said, a teasing lilt in your voice.

Nico's smile widened, the amusement in his eyes deepening. "I will," he promised, his voice a low rumble. "But you better be ready to celebrate after I win. Maybe you can give me a private concert later?"

A blush crept up your cheeks, and you couldn't help but return the flirt. "We'll see how you perform, Nico Rosberg, or should I say Britney?"

The starting lights went out, and the roar of the crowd drowned out your playful banter. But as you watched Nico storm off to the grid, his focused expression masking the amusement you'd sparked in his eyes, you knew this was just the beginning of your story. The race might have been about speed, but the connection you'd felt with Nico Rosberg promised a different kind of exhilarating ride.

time skip

Weeks after the Monaco Grand Prix, the afterglow of your first meeting with Nico lingered. You exchanged playful texts, Nico inquiring about upcoming gigs and you sending him interview snippets praising his driving prowess. Finally, a free weekend between races offered the perfect opportunity to bridge the gap between the roar of the racetrack and the rhythmic pulse of your music.

Nico, ever the thrill-seeker, suggested a visit to his home track in Germany. Intrigued by the world that fueled his passion, you readily agreed. Stepping into the sterile white paddock felt like entering a different universe. The air hummed with the precise efficiency of a well-oiled machine, a stark contrast to the electric chaos of your backstage routine.

Nico, in his element, gave you a guided tour. He pointed out the meticulous engineering of his car, explaining the intricate dance between driver and machine that achieved such heart-stopping speeds. You listened with rapt attention, his technical jargon punctuated by bursts of laughter as you teased him about his "need for speed" addiction.

Later, as you sat by the pit lane, the setting sun casting an orange glow over the track, Nico's demeanor softened. He confessed the immense pressure that came with being a driver, the constant scrutiny, the relentless pursuit of victory. You, in turn, shared the challenges of the music industry, the fleeting fame, the vulnerability of pouring your soul into every song.

Suddenly, the differences between your worlds seemed to melt away. You both understood the exhilarating pressure of performing, the constant push to be the best, the vulnerability of putting your heart on display for the world to see. A comfortable silence settled between you, a shared understanding blooming beneath the vast, star-studded sky.

The evening continued at a cozy restaurant tucked away in a nearby town. You played him snippets of your new music on your phone, the raw emotion in your voice resonating with him. He, in turn, shared stories from the road, the camaraderie with his team, the adrenaline rush of a perfectly executed race. The conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by laughter and stolen glances that spoke volumes.

As the night drew to a close, standing outside his hotel, a comfortable silence settled. Neither of you wanted the night to end. Tentatively, Nico reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. The touch sent shivers down your spine. He leaned in slowly, his eyes searching yours.

"This," he murmured, his voice husky, "might be riskier than any race I've ever driven."

You met him halfway, the kiss a delicious mix of excitement and newfound connection. The world of Formula One and the world of music might seem like polar opposites, but in that moment, under the soft glow of the streetlights, they felt like two sides of the same coin - a thrilling pursuit of passion, fueled by a connection that promised to be as exhilarating as the fastest race.

[mynicosensesaretingling]

Playful banter and dull sceneries

Nico Rosberg x fem!reader

Request: “Hello I hope you're taking request sorry for bothering if not but could you please do Nico Rosberg friends to lovers ending in someone walking in on them while they’re making out? Thank you in advance.”

Warnings: none except it has been written in my notes app

Note: Thank you so much for your request. I had so much fun writing this and really hope you enjoy what I came up with!! <3

————-

The day of the race dawned with a sense of anticipation hanging in the air, the paddock abuzz with activity as teams and spectators alike prepared for the thrilling spectacle ahead. Amidst the hustle and bustle, you found yourself in the company of Nico Rosberg, your longtime friend and partner in crime.

As you strolled through the paddock together, Nico's presence beside you felt both familiar and electrifying, the air tingling with unspoken tension. Over the years, your friendship had evolved into something deeper, though neither of you had dared to acknowledge the simmering undercurrent of attraction that lingered between you.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" you asked, eyes studying Nico’s side-profile with playful curiosity, as you waited for his answer. Turning his head to meet your gaze, Nico flashed you a grin, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, aside from winning the race, I thought we could find a cosy spot to avoid the paparazzi and their pesky questions.“

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. “Ah, so this is your clever plan to dodge the journalists, huh? Sneak away with me and hope they won’t find us?”

Nico feigned innocence, placing a hand over his heart in mock offence. “I’m hurt that you would even suggest such a thing! I just thought we could use some quality time away from the madness, that’s all.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing full well Nico’s aversion to the press. “Sure, Nico. Quality time away from the madness. Translation: hiding away from nosy reporters.” The blonde grinned unabashedly, his arm slipping around your shoulders as he pulled you closer. “Hey, if it means spending time with you, I’ll take my chances with the paparazzi any day.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his shameless flattery, playfully nudging him with your elbow. “Smooth, Rosberg. Real smooth.”

A comfortable silence settled between you as you made your way through the paddock, navigating through the maze of trailers and hospitality suites in search of the perfect hiding spot. Despite the chaos around you, there was a sense of peace in Nico’s company, a feeling of familiarity that eased the tension in your shoulders. 

Finally, you found yourselves at the paddock's edge, overlooking a secluded stretch of the racetrack. It wasn’t the most glamorous spot, with a few discarded tyre stacks providing makeshift seating, but it offered a reprieve from the chaos of the ever-buzzing paddock.

“Well, this is…. cosy.” you remark, eyebrows raised as you take in the less-than-stellar accommodations.

The driver chuckled, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “I did promise you a quiet spot away from the crowds. I never said it would be luxurious.” You playfully elbow him in the ribs, earning a mock wince in response. “At least tell me to bring a cushion next time.” 

Nico grinned at your playful jab, rubbing his side theatrically. “Ouch! Next time, I’ll be sure to pack a bottle of champagne for the princess.” 

You roll your eyes at the nickname, biting your lip to prevent the laugh bubbling up within you from escaping. “I guess for now we’ll just have to make do without the VIP treatment.” 

The blonde driver settled onto one of the discarded tyre stacks, motioning for you to join him. “Come on, don’t be a diva. This is prime real estate.” You followed suit, perching on the stack beside him with a grin. “You know, I think I’ve had worse seats at the movies.”

Nico chuckled, head tilting, as his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary. “Well. as long as the company’s good, that’s all that matters, right?” 

Noticing the warmth in his words, your heart fluttered. The playful banter between the two of you adding an extra layer of tension to the already-charged atmosphere. 

“Of course,” you replied, flashing him a smirk. “Though I must admit, the view could be better.” your hand lazily gesturing in front of you. Nico raised his eyebrow, the mischievous glint returning to his eyes upon hearing your comment. 

“Are you implying that I’m not enough to keep you entertained? I’m wounded.”

His dramatic antics lead you to shake your head in amusement. “Oh, come on, Nico. You know you’re more than enough to keep me entertained. I just thought a more scenic backdrop wouldn’t hurt.” 

Nico feigned a loud sigh, hand clutching his chest, as if your words had struck him. “I’m crushed! Here I was, thinking I was the main attraction.” You couldn’t help but giggle at his theatrics. “Well, you’re a close second.” The driver’s blue eyes sparkled with amusement, as he grinned. “I’ll take it. But just wait until I win this race- you’ll be singing a different tune then.”

You cross your arms, eyes sparkling upon feeling challenged. 

“Oh, is that a promise, Rosberg? Because last time I checked, certain other drivers might have something to say about that.” The man’s grin widened, the competitive spark igniting in his gaze. “Ah, but you forget, my dear. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve this time.”

You fully turned your body in his direction, to lean in closer. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we? But I’ll have you know, I’m not easily impressed, Rosberg.”

Nico was still grinning, his gaze holding yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “Oh, I’m counting on it. After all, what fun would winning be if it didn’t come with a challenge?”

You laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep within you as you met his playful challenge head-on. "Well, then, consider me your greatest challenge yet. But don't get too cocky, Nico. You haven't won this race yet."

Nico's expression softened, a hint of something more lingering in his gaze as he looked at you. "True, but with you by my side, I'd say my odds are looking pretty good."

The words hung in the air between you, charged with a tension that left you breathless. In that moment, surrounded by the fading light of the afternoon sun and the distant buzzing of the paddock, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

But just as the tension between you threatened to reach its peak, Nico's cocky demeanour resurfaced, bringing the sense of playfulness back to the moment. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he reached out, his hand gently grasping yours.

"Well, if I haven't won the race yet, perhaps I'll just have to find another way to claim my victory," he quipped, his voice laced with a hint of seduction.

Before you could respond, he surprised you by reaching out and tugging you from your perch on the stack of tyres. You found yourself swept off your feet, quite literally, as Nico effortlessly pulled you onto his lap, interrupting your protest with a playful grin.

"Nico, what on earth—" you began, but before you could finish your sentence, he cut you off with a cheeky smirk.

"Just making sure you have the best view possible, darling," he said, his arms encircling you in a snug embrace. "You were right, the scenery is quite dull after all."

You couldn't help but let out a laugh at his audacity, though a part of you couldn't deny the flutter of excitement that his closeness stirred within you. "Well, aren't you just the epitome of chivalry, Nico Rosberg."

Nico smirked, the playful expression never leaving his lips. "Only the best for you, my dear. After all, it's not every day I get to share a secluded spot overlooking the racetrack with such charming company." You rolled your eyes at his smooth talk, but couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at your lips. "Oh, spare me the flattery, Rosberg. We both know you're just trying to distract me from the fact that you're about to get your butt handed to you on the racetrack."

Nico's grin widened, his confidence unwavering. "Is that a challenge, darling? Because I assure you, I'm more than ready to prove you wrong."  "Oh, I'm counting on it. But just remember, Nico, actions speak louder than words." you teasingly wink.

Nico's eyes gleamed with mischief as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin, as his voice suddenly became husky. "Well then, I suppose I'll just have to let my actions do the talking."

Before you could even process the meaning of his words, he closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours with a gentle urgency. In that instant, years of unspoken longing seemed to culminate in the tender press of his lips against yours. It was as if every stolen glance, every lingering touch, had led to this moment of undeniable connection.

As his arms enveloped you, pulling you closer, you felt a sense of completeness wash over you. The world around you faded into insignificance, leaving only the warmth of his embrace and the sweet taste of his lips against yours. It was a moment of pure bliss, a culmination of years of pining and unspoken desires finally coming to fruition.

In that fleeting moment, everything just clicked into place, and you lost yourself in the intoxicating sensation of being truly and completely loved. It was a kiss filled with passion, tenderness, and a deep-seated longing that could no longer be denied. And as you melted into his embrace, the world seemed to stand still, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable truth of your connection.

Amidst the fervour of the moment, a satisfied, hoarse noise escaped Nico's lips, a primal sound of contentment that sent shivers down your spine. It was a silent affirmation of the intensity of his emotions, a wordless declaration that spoke volumes about the depth of his desire. And as you melted further into his embrace, you couldn't help but reciprocate, your own heart echoing the fervent passion that burned between you.

But just as the kiss deepened, a sudden voice shattered the moment, causing you to jump in surprise.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Jenson's smirk widened as he observed the scene before him, his eyes flickering between you and Nico with a knowing gleam.

Nico groaned theatrically at the interruption, one hand reaching up to comb through his tousled hair while the other comfortably rested on your hip. "Jenson! What are you doing here?" he exclaimed, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

The Brit chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Just thought I'd take a stroll through the paddock and see what I could find. I must say, I didn't expect to stumble upon a couple of lovebirds in the process."

You exchanged sheepish glances with Nico, a blush creeping up your cheeks at Jenson's teasing remark. "Well, it looks like our secret's out," you quipped, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

Nico chuckled, his arm tightening around your waist as he pulled you closer. "I suppose there's no hiding it now. But if we're going to be caught, I can't think of a better person to witness our... moment."

Jenson raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, believe me, it was pretty obvious from the moment I stumbled upon you two. The way you were practically glued to each other's sides? I'd say the cat's been out of the bag for a while now."

You exchanged a surprised glance with Nico, the realization dawning on you that perhaps your feelings for each other weren't as much of a secret as you had thought. But as Nico pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his gaze softening with affection, you knew that whatever the future held, you were ready to face it together – with laughter, love, and the occasional teasing remark from the ever-observant Jenson Button.

[vettelsvee]

FIRST VICTORY (PART 2) | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | history series masterlist

history series season 1: part 1 | part 2.1 | part 2.2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

summary: seb and di wake up together after spending the night in di's hotel room speaking and getting to know each other more. rumors start going around the paddock about both of them being something, and people start making theories about that... including hanna, sebastian's girlfriend.

word count: 7050

warnings: translated german. race strategies that might not seem accurate but i tried my best. sexism, lots of sexism. bad language, curse words. mentions of sex and cheating. seb being a man; everyone being the man (friendly reminder that whatever you read here is fiction, and nothing that happens here or how characters act is real)

taglist: [@theseerbetweenus @annewithaneofthegreengable @vincentvanshoe] if you wanna be tagged in each part just tell me in the comments <3

¡! you can read the fanfic as diana or y/n, but the faceclaim will always be my girl emma stone :)

feedback is truly appreciated!

September 14th 2008

Italian Grand Prix Autodromo Nazionale Monza

Sunday

A buzzing sound echoed over the wood of one of the nightstands, followed immediately by an annoying melody that cut off after a few seconds.

Diana, still immersed in the dream she had where both her sister and her were attending a Grand Prix as Fernando Alonso and Jenson Button's partners, abruptly opened her eyes. She didn't recall the time she fell asleep, but she was aware that Sebastian did so before her.

Paling at the thought of the German sleeping next to her, she blinked rapidly, hoping to discover that everything was part of the alternate reality she lived in during her short night.

Realizing she couldn't move, she turned as much as she could, surprised by the scene not only in front of her but also of which she was part of. Sebastian laying beside her, arms wrapped around her as if he didn't want to let go. His hair was completely disheveled, and his mouth was slightly open, letting out occasional snores. The Austrian blushed and tried to prolong the moment, but a flash of light from Sebastian's mobile phone interrupted.

Once again, the ringtone filled the room.

"Seb, wake up, please," the blonde began, pushing him gently to awaken him. "You're getting a call, and I won't be the one to answer."

All she received from the driver were drowsy grunts and a request for five more minutes of sleep. The girl, a bit fearful and curious about whether it was someone important, approached the device and saw the name Hanna on the screen.

Hanna, Sebastian's friend. The one he stood up after the press conference.

Would a friend call you at eight-thirty in the morning on a Sunday? Shouldn't she be at church, studying, or something like that?

"Sebastian," Wagner whispered firmly into the blonde's ear, "Hanna is calling you."

The news seemed to surprise the boy, who quickly bounced out of bed, answering the call. Diana could see desperation in him but chose not to ask where he was heading when he took the phone in his hands and left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

Sebastian ran out, head down in case anyone from the media recognized him. Hanna had called him twice, and he didn't answer either time, so he assumed she would be worried. He didn't want to imagine how she'd react if she caught him sleeping in his his new friend's hotel room...

No, he hadn't done anything wrong, so he shouldn't panic.

"Hello, Hanna!"

The German greeted his girlfriend, trying to sound as calm as possible, aware that the attempt was in vain. At the same time, he kept moving constantly through the corridors of the third floor.

"Hello, sweetheart! It took you a while to wake up today, right?" Prater replied sweetly, sensing her guy's nervous breathing. "Is something wrong? You sound a bit tense."

"No, no. I just went to bed a bit later than usual preparing some strategies with Alex for today's race," he explained, briefly altering what had actually happened. "I overslept, and they're about to close the buffet, so you might hear me a bit muffled."

Hanna, despite trying to believe her boyfriend, wasn't entirely convinced. She had known Vettel since they entered school. She could tell when something bothered him, especially when he lied. She would venture to say that this was one of those moments when Sebastian preferred to put on a mask and play the actor, as he did every weekend when he had to race.

That was what she liked least about her boyfriend being a Formula 1 driver, and it had become one of the reasons she didn't attend his races, along with the privacy they, especially her, wanted to maintain.

"Are you sure you're okay, Seb?" the German insisted. "Are you worried about today's race, or is there something else?"

"The race is the least of my worries, liebe," he quickly responded, trying to steer the conversation away from that topic. "I'm just nervous because the expectations on me are very high, and I don't want to disappoint anyone. I have so much on my mind right now..."

And that was true. Not every day did you race from your first pole position. Nor did you wake up in a girl's bed, holding her as if your life depended on it, especially when she wasn't your girlfriend and you had only known her for a few months.

The German sighed over the phone, knowing that if her boyfriend was nervous, there was no way to get him to talk. He tended to keep a lot of his feelings to himself, and this seemed to be one of those moments.

"Okay, but if you need to talk or anything, you know I'm just a call away," the girl said affectionately.

"I know, Hanna," Seb replied gratefully. "Don't worry, really. I promise if I win, I'll dedicate you the victory."

Prater accepted her partner's words though she knew something was amiss. Avoiding a conflict, she decided to move on without making a big deal out of it, discussing other matters such as his upcoming return home, whether he felt like going to the movies when they met again and, especially, when they would visit the apartment they had planned to buy in Berlin and liked so much last month.

Throughout the call, Seb tried to stay calm and, especially, forget about the great night he had spent with Di. He knew he had nothing to worry about because he hadn't done anything wrong, but the feeling of guilt for partially hiding the truth from Hanna didn't disappear, no matter how hard he tried.

His girlfriend wouldn't make a scene if she found out, but he was fully aware that it would hurt her because there was nothing she wanted more at that moment than to be there, in Italy.

With him.

Finally, after a few more minutes of conversation, the couple decided to end the call. As soon as he hung up the phone and put it in the back pocket of his pants, Sebastian quickly returned to Diana's room. She welcomed him with tiny spots of partially applied foundation all over her face, especially under her eyes. Their eyes met, and they couldn't help but smile at each other with a hint of shyness.

"We should hurry, Di. We can't waste too much time."

Vettel smiled at the girl and immediately entered the room to see if he had left anything behind. Diana still stood at the door, a bit embarrassed and, let's face it, confused by the pilot's behavior. She simply watched him while he carefully checked if he left anything. She didn't know if it was because of the race, the call from that Hanna person, or the night they had spent together, but the blonde felt the tension running through the guy in front of her.

"Everything okay?" she asked, finishing applying simple makeup while her gaze followed the German's movements. "You seem... I don't know... strange? You usually make jokes at all hours, but today it seems like you've had thirty coffees."

"Yes. Everything is... fine," the blonde replied, although Diana knew his words didn't convey sincerity, especially. "It was just a call from my friend Hanna. Nothing important for you to worry about."

You're acting as if this Hanna is more than just a friend so yes, I should be worried, thought the girl to herself, knowing there was more to that explanation. Even though she wanted to know more, she decided it was best not to press the guy. If he wanted to share something with her, he would do it when he felt comfortable.

"Are you ready to go?" Sebastian asked to change the subject.

"Yes, of course," Diana assured. "While you were on the phone I went down to the buffet and brought you something to eat," she pointed to some plates on the desk with croissants, cold cuts, some seasonal fruit, and two coffees. "I didn't know what you liked, so I chose a variety within your strict diet," she laughed. "I know you like to be calm before a race, and you wanted to leave already, but you should eat something before you go," the girl explained seriously. "I don't want you to leave with an empty stomach."

Sebastian laughed at the childish tone the blonde used while touching his stomach shyly. It reminded him of his mother when he was a bit younger, forcing him to eat before any karting competition.

Nodding in gratitude, the young man took a piece of pastry and filled it with a slice of mortadella. He took his coffee and sat on the bed, trying not to stain anything and eating more slowly than usual for someone in a hurry. Diana sat next to him, with a small glass in her hand filled with the same drink he was having.

"Aren't you eating anything? Do you want a piece? I can share with you. This is way too much for me" he offered, making a motion to cut his breakfast in half.

The girl shook her head and hands, thanking the driver for his offer.

"I already ate something downstairs before," Diana declared with a not very convincing sound. "Anyway, I wasn't very hungry."

Sebastian continued devouring his croissant as if his life depended on it. It seemed he was hungrier than he initially thought because he ended up eating the remaining loose pieces of cold cuts and even an apple and some peach slices. Diana seemed to have read his mind, even though she didn't want to admit it initially.

"Now we really should go, Di," Vettel said, getting up quickly and picking up everything from the belated breakfast. "If we keep delaying, Franz is going to kill me, and Alex, you."

"Do you think Fiori would be capable of killing me?"

Sebastian Vettel smiled at the girl as he put on his coat and took the belongings the girl usually carried with her.

"You have no idea what that man would be capable of, Di," he said, avoiding eye contact at all costs. "But you can't imagine what I would do to prevent that at all costs."

[…]

The journey to the circuit felt longer than the return to the hotel the previous day. This time, there was no soothing rain in the background, no blasting radio with Coldplay music to unwind and drift away. The only thing piercing the ears of Diana and Sebastian was the sound of the car engine, filling the silence within the vehicle.

Well, that and the cheers of thousands of fans waiting outside the circuit, hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite drivers speeding by in a car. Well, and also photographers, journalists and anyone eager to extract interesting information or, which was the same, create chaos.

As flashes from cameras began to burst, reflecting on the car windows, Sebastian paled, knowing that what would come out of there wouldn't be good. Diana didn't know what to do. Anxiety attacked her gradually until it became almost unbridled. She had never experienced anything like it and she wasn't enjoying any part of the experience. As she watched Vettel rummage through the belongings he seemed to have in the glove compartment, she focused on taking deep breaths and exhaling slowly. She had had so many anxiety attacks since her early teenage years that she knew exactly what to do and how to do it to calm them as quickly as possible, even though it didn't make them easier to endure.

Fans, upon seeing the pole man arrive, started screaming uncontrollably, making it impossible for Sebastian and Diana to hear each other.

"What's going on? Could you tell me what you're doing, Vettel?"

The blonde raised her voice as much as she could so that the German could distinguish what she was saying. However, he didn't utter a word and continued searching for the unknown until he pulled out a pair of sunglasses, which he hurriedly handed to Diana. Slowly, they were entering the lion's den, and the blonde was aware that if he didn't do anything to remedy it, rumors would start spreading like a pandemic.

"Put this on, please."

Sebastian's face pleaded for mercy. Wagner, who understood nothing of what was happening and even less the mystery the driver had in his hands, just made a disgusted face.

"I'm not putting that on," the girl clarified. "So, don't even think about forcing me to."

"Di..."

The entrance to the paddock parking was getting closer and, with it, the possibilities of getting into trouble. The Austrian persisted, trying by all means to get Sebastian to drop that idea, who became fed up and a bit enraged.

"For God's sake, Diana!" he shouted, still trying to remain calm. He couldn't risk his relationship with Hanna that way, especially for going to a race with a friend, only that the friend was a girl. "I've met journalists in the hard way and I don't want you to become their invention of me hooking up with a girl and then brought to the race, okay?"

Relaxation exercises weren't working at all and, more than anxiety, what Diana was feeling at that moment was pure panic. The feeling of claustrophobia was growing, and if before she felt like she was suffocating, now she was sensing her death right there if no one hurried to help her.

Drawing strength from where she didn't have it, she took those glasses and put them on, lowering her head. Sebastian was right: a girl seen with a driver became the subject of rumors that they had hooked up and brought to the race. Diana Wagner was much more than a mere sex toy, although at Toro Rosso people thought otherwise.

The blinding lights passed quickly until they faded along with the cheers and chants. They had finally entered the private parking of the circuit, exclusively reserved for drivers, demonstrating the amount of security gathered in one place.

Diana hurriedly got out of the car, needing to breathe some fresh air even though they were underground. Sebastian spent a few seconds staying inside the car, trying to calm down from the madness they had experienced, and above all, hoping they hadn't taken a photo of him with his companion with enough quality to cause a sensation in news around the world.

"That was crap, Seb," the girl told him as he got out of the car. "Seriously, I don't understand how so many people can be gathered in one place. I'm sure they couldn't breathe! And isn't there any security? At least an ambulance should be there. You know, someone could..."

"Miss, can I know who you are?"

One of the security guards, of considerable stature and a very robust appearance, approached the girl aggressively.

"I'm Diana Wagner, sir. Race engineering intern, part of Toro Rosso's internship."

The firmness with which the Austrian said that while showing her ID was quickly blurred by the laughter of the men present there, except for Vettel, who wanted to say something even though he knew it wasn't the most appropriate. Finally, the twenty-year-old succumbed to the pressure and the murderous looks, joining the laughter even though he tried to do the opposite.

"Oh, I see," one of the men retorted, "Alex's little bitch. Isn't that right, Vettel?"

"Well, she's much more than that. If it weren't for her..." the German replied, cowed.

"Don't tell us stories, Vettel," another of them, albeit slightly more disheveled, approached the mentioned one. "Let's hope you made her scream so much last night that those are the same screams you make when you win today. And then you make her scream again tonight."

Maybe the intention was to say it in a whisper and keep it between them, but Diana heard it all, just like the rest of those present. Bewildered, she looked at Sebastian, who didn't know how to react, ashamed of his behavior and, above all, wanting to apologize to the girl. Then, she ran towards the team garage, trying not to be run over by the cars that were arriving.

Tears ran down her face as she went through the paddock, trying not to collide with anyone who got in her way. The curious looks didn't leave her alone, and Diana noticed that she didn't want anything more than to become as small as an ant and have everyone ignore her or even trample her, because that's what she felt they were doing. Lost in her thoughts, she jumped when she felt someone grab her arm.

"Who made you cry, beautiful?"

It couldn't be true.

It couldn't be Rosberg again.

Wouldn't he get tired of receiving a no for an answer?

"You as soon as you opened your mouth, to be honest," Diana said sarcastically. "Leave me alone, I already have enough dealing with a German, blond, blue-eyed idiot. I don't need to be enduring another one," she replied, changing the language to perfect Spanish and leaving Nico somewhat perplexed, even though he partially understood what she was saying.

Fernando Alonso, who was talking with Felipe Massa nearby, just laughed quietly, earning a few unfriendly glares from the German and a confused one from the Brazilian. The pair decided to approach the younger ones, who were engrossed in a heated argument.

"What are you talking about?" Felipe asked curiously, interrupting the conversation between the German speakers. "Is it about the rumors that have started circulating?"

"What rumors?"

Rosberg seemed to be having a great time trying to annoy Diana. The girl's face, due to anger, had turned a reddish shade similar to the color of the suit worn by those belonging to Ferrari.

"Those saying that Vettel and you spent the night together," added Alonso in his mother tongue. "I don't know the details, and I don't want to know them, but people can't stop talking about it. Be careful, Diana: what starts well, ends badly."

"And why the hell does anyone care who I spent the night with?" Diana shouted a bit louder than expected in perfect Spanish. "For God's sake, Sebastian and I are just friends... I think," she clarified. "There will never be anything between him and me because... I don't have to give you explanations. I'm done with the conversation."

"Can you talk in a language we all understand perfectly?" Nico pleaded, supported by the Brazilian driver. "Please."

In a matter of minutes, Wagner had gone from sadness to irritability, and in that situation, all she wanted was to hit someone. She didn't want to, of course, but containing her aggressiveness in those moments was becoming an impossible task.

Her entrance to the Toro Rosso garage was nothing special either. As always, glances over the shoulder and gossip was what she received from her colleagues. That day, more than sinking Diana's self-esteem a bit more, they managed to make, for the first time in the entire season, the blonde think about herself and go directly to where she usually spent most of her time inside, ignoring everyone.

As the hours passed, the garage filled with engineers engrossed in their monitors, mechanics focused on preparing the cars in perfect condition, and even some random celebrity who had no idea about the sport but was curious and eager to fiddle with everything, becoming a nuisance.

Wagner, absorbed in telemetry to see if she could come up with a plan B in case Alex messed up, despite the shitty behavior the German had had with her on arrival, began to notice that everyone's attention shifted to the entrance of the box. Curious, she decided to ignore Sebastian's data for a moment and imitate the rest.

Sebastian Vettel, already dressed in the appropriate attire to get into the car, entered the place confidently. Despite being hurt by his behavior, Diana couldn't help but make direct eye contact with the blonde, who gave her a remorseful smile. She did no less: smiled back at him.

Sometimes, she hated being a woman who succumbed to the slightest charms of men, especially when they were blond, of medium height, with clear eyes and, especially, treated her well.

Next to him was a man of short stature and a chubby figure, with little hair and a thick beard that gave him a Santa Claus vibe. By his side, tightly holding his hand, was a girl with long jet-black hair, shy and embarrassed in the crowd around her.

Vettel ignored all the calls directed at him and went straight to Diana, eager to introduce her to two of the most important people in his life:

"Di," he began in German, "let me introduce you to a quarter of my family... I think, Maths has never been my strong suit. This is my father, Norbert," he said, pointing to the man, who quickly shook her hand, "and this is Lara, my little sister," he added, pointing to the girl, who shyly nodded her head.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," the girl replied, nervously touching the headphones resting on her neck. "I hope today is lucky and you can see Sebastian take home his first victory."

Vettel's father nodded, very convinced that it would indeed happen.

"I trust my son more than the bank that gave me the loan to pay off our mortgage," he said, patting Seb on the shoulder. "And that's saying something when he's a useless twenty-one-year-old! Plus, having you as an engineer I'm sure everything will go great. Finally I see a girl doing something other than wearing suggestive clothes and applauding these Neanderthals when they step onto the podium!"

"Dad, behave yourself, please," Sebastian forced with a smile while not-so-subtly elbowing his father.

"I'm not Sebastian's engineer, Mr. Vettel," the blonde clarified hastily. "I'm just a team intern. I can't do much, but I promise I'll do my best to ensure your son's race goes as smoothly as possible and, above all, that you enjoy it to the fullest."

Suddenly, Franz appeared and got between them, putting his hands on the shoulders of father and son and leading them away. Sebastian's sister stood in front of Diana, wondering why her brother's boss was so stupid.

"I really wanted to come to a race, but it's all very weird. Mom warned me that this wasn't a good place for a girl like me, and now I see why! Everyone Dad and Seb have talked to seems very silly," she vented, "and you're the only one who has looked at me."

Finally, Lara had gathered the courage to talk to the blonde girl. In response, the girl crouched down to her level. She didn't know why, but that girl, who, despite being of the same blood as the driver, seemed to be the opposite of him, had taken quite a liking to her.

"You get used to it... Lara, right?," the girl nodded, seemingly happy. "I don't usually get much attention, but your brother always manages to make me smile and make me feel valued."

"What does it mean to make you feel valued? Is it something that cost money?"

"It's when someone puts in a lot of effort and you let them know," Sebastian said, reappearing. "Like when your Maths teacher puts a happy face sticker on your notebook when you solve an exercise correctly."

The conversation continued between the siblings and the intern in a more lively and relaxed manner. Lara started to feel more comfortable with the girl, even asking her a few questions about Formula 1 that seemed trivial to Vettel. "What happens if they run out of gas?" or "Can they stop if they need to pee?" were two of the many questions Diana had the pleasure of answering for the ten-year-old until they were interrupted by Alex, who informed Seb, ignoring the two girls, that he had to get into the race car and position it on the starting grid.

The driver apologized, quickly taking Lara's hand to lead her to where Norbert was. Diana simply returned to her seat and hid her head behind one of the screens, but before she could Sebastian spoke to her:

"I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to you. I'm sorry for how I acted earlier. I felt incredible pressure, even more than when I'm on the track! I know it's not an excuse because I could have shut them up as I always do, but...

Diana remained static, unsure of how to answer.

"Aren't you going to say anything?", Seb replied, trying to get a response. "I need my paddock girl to bring me good luck."

"Go get 'em, tiger."

"So now you're Mary Jane Watson, huh?" Sebastian confronted, raising an eyebrow and trying to keep Diana's shyness from escalating after that statement. "I didn't think you liked the geek with glasses who shoots webs, which I love, by the way," he explained, "I saw you more as Gwen Stacy actually. You know, since you're blonde and intelligent as fuck..." he pointed to the girl's hair.

Wagner refrained from biting her tongue. She wished she could tell him that blonde wasn't her natural color and that she was a redhead like Peter Parker's girlfriend, only that the insecurity created in college about her hair color had led her to dye it that platinum almost monthly. Also, she was sure that if she decided to go back to the coppery tone she loved so much deep down, they would say it was just for attention, and that was the last thing she wanted.

She hated hiding her true self, but she hated even more the fact that there was a high chance people would like her for not being herself.

Acting was not a profession that particularly appealed to her, but if she had to dedicate herself entirely to it to get what she wanted most, she was more than willing to continue playing the role of her life.

[...]

The starting signal was about to be given, and in the Toro Rosso garage, everyone was aware of it. The rain was the main cause of this, which had started just moments ago and had suddenly poured down all at once.

Everyone was on their feet, watching Sebastian on the large screen hanging on the wall, eagerly awaiting his start. Even Fiori wasn't positioned in front of his computer, and that had never happened.

The expectations for the German were too high, and he could hear it through the comments filtering through his radio. He began to feel nervous but forced himself to calm down: he not only had a team that had trusted him watching him but also his family, the girl he loved, and possibly the entire Heppenheim. Diana kept her eyes on the screen, not taking them off unless it was to see the seconds remaining for the start.

The thunderous sound of the engines took over everyone's attention when the red lights came on, and after the lights went out, the race cars shot off toward the first turn. Wagner held her breath and crossed her fingers, mentally praying to whoever God might be that Sebastian would have opportunities to win despite the rain, which now seemed to be working against him.

After the start, the Toro Rosso garage began to fill with activity. Mechanics returned to their respective positions, waiting for either of the two drivers to make a pit stop, and the same happened with the engineers, who hurried back to telemetry with their helmets on. Diana also did the same and returned to what had become her corner of confidence, immersing herself in the battle through the team's transmission. The buzz of voices and data filled her mind as she followed the race, while she began, as in any other Grand Prix, to develop her own ideas to improve Vettel's performance even if they were in vain.

In the midst of her thoughts, a familiar voice slipped in. Sebastian had started singing a low melody that didn't quite reach her while maintaining the lead. The intern couldn't help but let out a silly smile at the German's antics that had given the team so many headaches.

"Sebastian, I need you to focus on what's around you, not to think you're Freddie Mercury at Wembley."

As the laps went by, and information exchanges continued, the rain increased simultaneously. Although the intermediate tires were suitable at the start of the race, the weather conditions were worsening, affecting Sebastian's performance. Diana could see on her monitor how the sector times for her driver were deteriorating compared to most of the other drivers, especially Barrichello, who was rapidly closing in.

Vettel seemed to be aware of the issue because he repeatedly urged Fiori to make another pit stop, only to receive rejections from the engineer. The blonde continued analyzing the data, and her mind began to develop a strategy that, while not the best and could risk everything, she knew was the most appropriate.

Even though Diana was just a mere intern, or more of a gofer, with no voice or vote, seen only as a pretty face to showcase that women could be part of motorsport, she knew perfectly well that the data Alex was providing lacked cohesion, the strategy hadn't been properly designed and all of it would end in the greatest disappointment for the German driver if something wasn't done.

"Mr. Fiori," she cautiously began, "I think we should consider thinking about a different plan to maximize the chances of success."

Sebastian, who was holding onto the lead as best he could, started listening to the conversation, quite interested in what the girl was saying.

The Austrian had minimal hopes that her boss's response would be appropriate, but it wasn't. Instead of considering the girl's suggestion and seeing what they could do, Alex looked at her with disdain and began a string of derogatory comments that only soured the intern's day even more.

"Do you think you know anything about strategies?," he replied with disdain. "Girls like you should stick to shutting the hell up and stop spewing shit about something you don't know," the glares were starting to focus between the two of them. "If you're still here, it's because you bring us good reputation, not because you're fit for this," he said, pointing at the data. "I'm sure you have some little task to do right now to earn your salary because you're not doing anything here."

"You don't know that because you haven't given me a damn chance to prove what I'm capable of."

The Italian went cold at the response from the subordinate girl. Even Sebastian, who was listening attentively to the discussion they were having, was impressed by his friend's response, though very proud that she had finally decided to stand up for herself.

"I'm just asking you to make one more pit stop and change to wet tires," Diana explained, ignoring the man. "We would stop in the next two or three laps," she calculated. " Then Sebastian would come out, according to my calculations, from the tenth position onwards, and we wouldn't have to stop again because fuel would be just enough, which would even increase the speed of the race car in the last laps."

"Since when do interns think they've been working in Formula 1 for twenty years or so?", he answer with a completely sarcastic tone. "Wagner: you either follow my rules, or you leave. A girl like you shouldn't tell me what to do to get victories for the team, clear?"

"No, actually," Diana replied, not allowing herself to be intimidated and ignoring the man's last words, "but what is clear is that Hamilton, Button, Alonso and Räikkönen have switched to wet tires and are improving their times. That should also be clear to you, just as information."

Alex looked at her with anger. He wanted to kill her at that moment.

"Look, little one...", he commented, approaching the girl intimidatingly. "Stay quiet in some corner like the whore you are. I'm sure the next time you open your mouth, someone, I hope not to be me, will shut you up in ways you won't like. Or maybe you will."

If it hadn't been for her self-control, Diana would have given the man in front of her the beating of his life. She could hear Vettel's voices in the background, very coupled, and how he demanded Alex to leave the girl alone. The twenty-year-old sounded very frustrated, and she completely understood: they were ruining his race.

But Diana Wagner wasn't going to let that happen.

Just as she was about to say something more, Franz Tost appeared, approaching Fiori and whispering something in his ear that none of those around them could hear. The engineer looked at the team leader and simply nodded his head before disappearing from there together.

"You better hope this isn't broadcasted on television, Wagner." Fiori threatened as he disappeared. "If it is, you'll pay dearly."

At that moment, the blonde's adrenaline was so high, even though she felt like shit, that she didn't stop to think about her boss's words, quite the opposite: as quickly as possible, and making sure no one saw her, she took Fiori's headphones and began giving orders to the driver:

"Seb, I don't know if you trust me, but I need you to do the following, so listen to me, please," Diana ordered, drawing strength from where she didn't have it. "You're going to stop in the next lap, change to wet tires and they will give you enough fuel to finish the race with a margin," the urgency in the girl's voice was evident. "Weather conditions are getting worse, and so is the track. If you stick with the intermediates, you risk losing the victory."

The blonde's intervention completely caught Vettel off guard, but he began to mysteriously relax.

"Di, are you sure about what you're saying? Do you think it's the best option?"

She nodded, even though the guy couldn't see her.

"The majority have already stopped and, if my calculations don't fail me," she began to review the telemetry, "you, Bourdais and Webber are the only ones who haven't made any tire changes. All you're going to achieve is gaining grip on the track, getting more speed and securing a victory."

Sebastian took a deep breath, and his response was immediate:

"Okay, Di. Hey... thanks for standing up against Alex," he confessed. "Sometimes he can get a little crazy with all this and loses his nerves under pressure."

"You don't have to apologize," she said affectionately. "I'm here for this, and I'd rather end up on the street than not being able to help you to show what you can do."

One pit stop, about seventeen more laps, and some struggles that kept hearts pounding until the end, Sebastian Vettel was the first to cross the waving checkered flag of the circuit. Everyone from Toro Rosso began running euphorically to the fence to greet the guy, still racing in his race car and already heading to parc fermé. Cheers and applause began filling the air, and all eyes were on the young German driver who had achieved his first victory.

Sebastian, with his helmet still on, ran towards his mechanics and even to his engineer, who celebrated the victory as if he had been part of it. The blonde's face was infected with a smile that seemed unwilling to disappear; his arms, raised in a sign of victory, were followed by what, from that moment on, would become his characteristic celebration: his index finger pointing straight, indicating that he had finished first.

Diana, who was watching everything from the box, witnessed the scene with a series of conflicting feelings. Before the German was taken by some responsible people to the podium, she saw how their eyes met, and Seb articulated a thank you in their native language, intended only for her; he even blew her a kiss and winked at her, but she didn't give it much importance because he did the same on the podium many times, looking directly at his team.

Everything happened very quickly. The podium ascent after the post-race weigh-ins. The German anthem in honor of the champion, immediately followed by the Italian anthem; the trophy presentations and the corresponding champagne celebration, concluding with an interview where Sebastian couldn't stop thanking Tost, Alex, and the team in general.

As the girl expected, there was no special mention of Diana Wagner; just a note on the floor of her hotel room that welcomed her as soon as she crossed the door.

Thank you for making this possible, newbie. I apologize for the haste, but Horner has arranged a dinner with Tost and a couple of others to discuss my Red Bull contract more seriously. I wanted to see you, and no matter the excuses I've given, Britta has forced me to go. You should see how ridiculous I look in a suit. I owe you a dinner and, above all, my life, I would say. 

P.S.: The kisses I threw were for you, each and every one of them; without you, none of this would have been possible. 

P.S.2: I owe you a dinner, how about at the end of the season? That way, we avoid surprises :) 

P.S.3: I don't know if roses are your favorite flowers, and I don't know if you like chocolate, but... I hope you at least like the small detail you have on your desk. 

The surface where that morning she had set the breakfast for the German was now almost completely covered with a large bouquet of flowers and various types of Italian sweets.

Diana Wagner was slowly sinking into quicksand, and she wasn't even aware of it yet.

[…]

Sebastian Vettel detested nothing more than meetings, especially after winning his first victory when he could be out getting drunk with shots and various drinks, leaving him vomiting and hungover the next morning.

Or having a quiet dinner with Diana in his room as a thank-you for what she had done for him.

God, how much he loved that girl.

He emerged from the bathroom with disheveled hair, wearing only a towel around his waist. Small drops of water fell down his bare chest, but Vettel was so eager to talk to his girlfriend that he took a shower of less than a minute, dried off quickly, and rushed to his backpack to grab his laptop and call Prater on Skype.

Hanna appeared on the screen, but not her exactly. Instead, there was photo she had taken for her university ID. It was strange for the German to have the camera off. Normally, after a race, she was always eager to see Sebastian to chat or even do something crazy.

"Sorry for taking so long, love," Seb started saying. "Britta, as we know her, forced me to go to a dinner with..."

His words were interrupted by the arrival of two photos his girlfriend had sent through the app's chat. His gaze shifted to the blurry, thumbnail-sized images that were downloading. When they opened, he could clearly see himself holding the steering wheel with one hand while the other reached for a blurry face, one he knew perfectly was Diana's.

Damn.

This couldn't be happening.

"Were you busy with dinner or that blonde who looks so much like me and clearly isn't me?"

The question was directed straight at the German, who began to get nervous. No matter how much he tried to stay calm because he hadn't done anything, he couldn't help his pulse skyrocketing uncontrollably.

"Hanna, listen, it's not what you think," he began to explain, searching for the right words for her to listen.

She, now with her camera activated, stared at him through the screen, her blue eyes reflecting only disappointment.

"Seb, I need you to tell me the truth."

"Liebe, I promise there's nothing between that girl and me," the German's thoughts began to jumble. "It's Diana, I think I've told you about her. The intern. It was just pouring rain and I wasn't going to let her walk alone to the circuit."

Hanna interrupted him:

"I understand, darling," she said, "but I don't understand why you're smiling. Do you feel more comfortable with her than with me?" The girl began to cry. "Damn it, I'm so insecure. You dedicated today's victory to me with those kisses..."

Vettel ran his hand through his wet hair, completely desperate with that situation. He knew Hanna was very insecure and that what bothered her the most when he was away was the people he associated with. For that reason, they had had a thousand and one fights that kept happening despite the driver assuring her that she was the love of his life and the only person he had eyes for.

But that didn't mean he wasn't guilty of the events of the previous night and the accumulating lies, like the dedication of the victory.

It wasn't for Hanna but for the girl who seemed to be slowly becoming his girlfriend's replacement in the paddock.

"Hanna, I promise you have nothing to worry about," the blonde said, feeling great guilt because the photos were taken with the intention of creating misunderstandings. "My relationship with you is the most important thing to me. Besides, Diana probably has a boyfriend. She's just a mate, and if it makes you feel better, I'll talk to her to avoid misunderstandings," he let out. "If you allow me, of course."

The girl seemed to consider it for a moment until she finally agreed.

"Okay, Seb. But I want you to swear to me, for the sake of everything you hold dear, that if something changes between you two and you start to be more than friends, you'll tell me. You know you have my trust to do so."

Sebastian nodded seriously, swallowing at the same time to contain the question that was eating him up inside these days.

Why had he grown so fond of Diana Wagner in such a short time?

[distantlaughter]

‘I want to do something significant’: ex-F1 champion Nico Rosberg on his sustainable entrepreneurship

originally published by Joanna Partridge for The Guardian 13 June 2023 (x)

The former elite driver has changed lanes from fossil-fuel-guzzling track cars to green investing and environmentally friendly racing.

In a parallel world, former Formula One world champion Nico Rosberg could be sitting at home in Monaco with his feet up, having set himself up for life, all before the tender age of 32.

After clinching the world championship in 2016, beating his rival Lewis Hamilton in the process, Rosberg shocked the world of motor sport by promptly quitting the pursuit that had been his life since starting competitive racing at the age of six.

Like many sports stars who retire relatively early, he has moved into punditry, commentating for Sky, but unusually he also appears to have effortlessly switched lanes from professional sportsman to entrepreneur, investor and philanthropist.

Sipping sparkling water in a hotel overlooking Hyde Park, the German-Finnish former champion has “got used” to talking about his retirement, despite being just 37. “I am so incredibly lucky,” he admits. “Thanks to the racing, I have financial freedom and I can do whatever I want.”

Despite sporting a tan, relaxed expression and understated navy clothing, Rosberg reveals a glimpse of a sportsman’s inner drive when he explains his motivation: “I want to do something significant, I want to contribute and I want to grow.

“I was always inspired by people who took that entrepreneurial path, investing to support or create something.” He rules out a return to racing, stressing he wants to use “the legacy of that, for my new endeavours”.

Rosberg now employs 15 people to work on his business and investment affairs, and his new endeavours include brand ambassador roles for German energy company EnBW – where he is the face of its electric charging network – and logistics provider Jungheinrich, but he describes himself on professional networking site LinkedIn as a “sustainability entrepreneur and angel investor”.

Rosberg has previously spoken about how he only gained a broader perspective on life after stepping off the international Formula One merry-go-round. Perhaps surprisingly, given his background in a fossil-fuel-guzzling sport, Rosberg now speaks with the zeal of a convert about sustainability and the importance of drawing attention to the climate crisis, something he admits he gave little thought to during his racing career.

This passion led him to found the Greentech festival, along with engineers and entrepreneurs Marco Voigt and Sven Krüger, in 2019. This year’s conference starts on Wednesday in Berlin, and the event is described by the organisers as a “global platform for pioneering and sustainable ideas”.

Rosberg says his wealth has afforded him the luxury to focus on these new interests, including investing in sustainability-focused startups, while also creating an endowment for his “grandchildren” (he and his wife’s two children are seven and five).

Indeed, one reason for this trip to London was a meeting with charitable foundation the Wellcome Trust, one of the UK’s largest philanthropic investors, known for its track record of impressive financial returns.

Forbes puts Rosberg’s net worth at just over $20m (£16m), although this seems a conservative estimate, given the earning power of the world’s elite racing drivers. He admits to having “software” that provides him with an exact figure, but will not be drawn on what that is, other than adding: “The top F1 driver earns $40m a year.”

Another of his ventures presumably comes with the need for deep pockets: He owns Rosberg X Racing, a team in the new environmentally conscious motor sport Extreme E. Now in its third season, the series sees electric off-road SUVs race in different locations around the globe that have been affected by the climate crisis.

The teams, each comprising a male and a female driver, are racing this season across five locations, from Saudi Arabia to Scotland, and Italy to the Americas. In an effort to limit their environmental impact, the series’ vehicles, logistics equipment and infrastructure are shipped, rather than flown, around the world aboard the St Helena, a former Royal Mail ship. The races are televised, but take place without spectators.

Rosberg’s team, now third in the standings, is sponsored by IG Prime, a division of financial brokerage IG, among others, and is considered an evolution of Team Rosberg, the motor sport outfit founded in the 1990s by his father, Keke. Other Extreme E team founders include Hamilton and former British Formula One driver Jenson Button.

The series claimed a global audience of 135 million in 2022, more than 30% up on viewership during its inaugural season. However, this pales into insignificance compared with Formula One, riding high and growing its fanbase, especially in the US.

Rosberg hopes Extreme E entertains viewers, while getting them to “do their part, and contribute, and think about their own lives” amid the climate crisis.

Rosberg says his own car is an all-electric Audi e-tron, extolling the virtues of the charging network in mainland Europe – and says he does not “like it any more” if he is collected by a fossil fuel-powered car when travelling abroad. He also says he takes the train in Germany, but skirts over whether he flies by private jet.

His focus on sustainability extends to his investment portfolio, which does not contain any oil, tobacco or defence companies. However, he is at something of a loss to explain the involvement in Extreme E of Saudi Arabia, which hosted the first race of the season, but is also the world’s biggest producer of fossil fuels, and home to the world’s biggest oil company, Saudi Aramco, which is 95% government-owned. “I would understand that there are some people, where it doesn’t sit too well with them,” Rosberg says. “All our partners in Extreme E are allowing us to do a lot of good, which we are very grateful for.

“Sometimes you need to go out there a little bit to do a lot of good.”

After the regimented existence of his early years, where his job determined his timetable, Rosberg clearly relishes being his own boss. He vociferously rules out a future return to Formula One, whether as a driver or running a team: “Never, ever, ever, because I value my freedom,” he says. “It was very intense.”

Rosberg still watches all the Formula One races but confesses the experience is not relaxing: “When the lights go off, I imagine I’m there.”

Few would imagine that investing could produce the same high, but he insists he has other ways to get his adrenaline fix: “In business, and on the tennis court.”

CV

Age: 37

Family: Married, with two young children

Education: International School of Monaco

Pay: Undisclosed. “My income comes from representing brands, I am the face of the biggest electric [vehicle] charging infrastructure in Germany from EnBW, and Jungheinrich, the logistics mobility provider. That is one important source of income for me.” He says his income comes from representing brands, his investments in startups yet to deliver significant returns.

Last holiday: Ibiza, where his family has a holiday home and owns an ice-cream parlour. “It’s our favourite place to go.”

Best advice he’s been given: “My father said: ‘You always meet twice in life.’”

Biggest career mistake: “Investing into a great idea, but where the founders were not 100% convincing.”

Word he overuses: “Big bang,” according to his assistant Lena. He adds: “We talk about building reputation … I like to think in ‘big bang’ stories, such as winning the Extreme E championship.”

How he relaxes: Playing tennis; “I am average good.”

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Formula 1 news 78617 - F1 Chronicle

The 2016 F1 Standing Formula 1 has always been one of the most exciting and unpredictable racing series in the world. 2016 was no exception, with a number of dramatic and record-breaking moments. One such moment was the standing – a race that had come down to just three drivers. And in the end, it was a heart-stopping finish as one driver after another fell by the wayside. In this blog post, we will take a look at what made this race so exciting and see how you can apply some of the principles to your own business or marketing campaigns. Formula 1 news 78617 The Drivers 1. What are the drivers of population growth? Population growth is driven by a number of factors, including births and deaths, migration, and international trade. Population growth can have a significant impact on society and the environment. 2. What are some of the consequences of population growth? Population growth has a number of consequences, including increased demand for resources, increased pollution levels, and increased pressure on land and water resources. It can also lead to social unrest and conflict. The Constructors 1. In mathematics, the F standing for Frobenius is a symbol used to denote the limit as x approaches a certain value. The F stands for the derivative of a function with respect to its argument x: f(x) = lim x → a f(x) The Teams The F Standing is a new grassroots movement created to encourage female athletes to take the field and show their talent. The platform provides a supportive environment for female athletes to compete, learn, and grow in their sport. Through events and programming such as the F Standing Female Athlete Summit, the group aims to create an environment where female athletes can thrive by providing access to resources, networking opportunities, and mentorship. The summit will be held on September 25th in New York City and will feature keynote speakers including Nzinga Akunyili-Teodora Obiang Mangue Dangote, Olympic Gold Medalist Simone Biles, and World Champion runner Mo Farah. The F Standing is committed to promoting gender equality through sport and creating a supportive community of female athletes from all over the world. Their goal is not only to empower women but also provide them with the tools they need to achieve success both on and off the field. The Schedule 1. The F Standing The F stands for "Fearless." Fearless athletes are the ones that know their limitations and push themselves to new levels. They don't let anything stop them from reaching their goals, and that's what makes them so successful. There are a lot of things you have to be fearless about in life, and one of the most important is taking risks. If you're not willing to take risks, you'll never achieve anything big or new. You need to be willing to try new things, put yourself out there, and explore your world. If you're afraid to take risks, you'll never reach your full potential. Be fearless and live life to the fullest! Highlights of the 2016 F1 season There were a few standout moments of the 2016 Formula One season. The biggest race was the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, which had an exciting finish. Lewis Hamilton won the race and became the world champion for the fourth time. Other races that were particularly exciting included the Mexican Grand Prix, where Sebastian Vettel and Kimi Raikkonen battled it out for first place, and the Japanese Grand Prix, where Nico Rosberg beat Hamilton to win his fourth championship title. There were also some great driver performances throughout the season. For example, Max Verstappen proved himself to be a talented driver by winning several races including the Belgian Grand Prix and Singapore Grand Prix. In addition, Daniel Ricciardo showed that he is a consistent contender by finishing in second place in many races including Abu Dhabi Grand Prix and Australian Grand Prix. Overall, this was an interesting and action-packed Formula One season with many memorable moments.