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russellsppttemplates · 2 months

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Fighting a losing battle (Lando Norris)

Even though Lando would never lash out, he didn't feel great after the race and he needed someone to be there for him

Note: english is not my first language. Another example of how whenever I see something I enjoy, I hyperfixate on it and I don't put it down until I get it done and how saying no is hard for me! Jokes aside, hopefully you enjoy it!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: japanese grand prix '24

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

Everyone expected the qualifying sessions to be tougher, but the MCL38 showed pace as Lando did beautifully going from Q1 to Q3,

The spirits were high in the garage as they congratulated eachother, some of the mechanics from Lando's side even flashing you two big thumbs up as they carried on what they needed to do to get the car back and prepare it for race day.

"I got P3!", Lando gave you a big smile that made his eyes squinty as he walked closer to you, having finished his media duties outside of the ones the social media team needed.

"Congratulations, baby! Only two tenths off of the RedBulls!", you cheered, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug before kissing his lips.

"The pace is kind of there, and the weather for tomorrow looks nice, too, should be a good race!", he smiled, kissing your forehead one last time before he pulled you two apart, "are you good to wait here for me? The debrief should be long, but not gigantic".

"Yes, I'll wait here, go before they come for me and never let me be here again", you squeezed his hand before he let go, blowing you a kiss as he walked to the meeting room.

After the debrief, you went straight to a small dinner to celebrate Oscar's birthday and then back to the hotel, "would you perhaps want to shower with me?", you mused as Lando set his backpack in one of the chairs, "yes, sounds great", he smirked as he followed you into the bathroom.

You both peeled away all the clothes on your bodies, Lando doing it faster than you and turning on the water so it would warm up, "baby, you're so gorgeous", he groaned, taking your hand when you took off your panties and pulling you to him, his hands grasping your hips.

Lando couldn't take his eyes away from your body, whispering "I can't believe you're all mine" in your ear while squeezing your thighs, lightly tapping your butt and feeling your body jiggle from the small impact, "I love you, baby".

"I love you too, Lan", you let your fingers trail all the way from his damp curls to his chest, following the delicate lines and kissing his wet chest.

"Can I wash your hair?", he asked as he got the bottle from the indented shelf on the wall, letting you turn around and getting a full on view from your butt, sighing as he lathered the product on your hair.

Neither of you stepped inside the shower with a full on shower sex moment in mind, feeling satisfied with just spending intimate time together and caressing eachother's bodies to show how much you appreciated eachother.

"I want to wash your back", you claimed, Lando turning around this time and letting your rub his skin, delicate fingers untangling some knots and relieving pressure on his muscles before he felt your lips littering kisses everywhere you could reach. Any other time, he would joke about your infatuation for his back and how you seemed to prefer the part of his body that didn't show his face, but right now he was enjoying this as much as you were.

"Careful, don't slip", Lando encouraged you as he wrapped the towell around you after he did the same to himself, holding your hand as you stepped out and into the bedroom, changing in your sleeping attire, so shorts for him and a nightshirt for you.

You brushed your teeth together and did your skincare routine, kissing Lando's lips before putting on your lip balm.

Lando spooned you on the bed, tucking you in properly and kissing your cheek, "Good night, my love, sleep tight", he whispered as you softly snored away for the night.

You certainly weren't the point person any team would go to have opinion on any engineering or performance matters for the cars, but you weren't a stranger to it either.

The red flag at the beggining of the race definitely opened the possibility for tyre changes, but the team seemed happy with how they were running.

After the restart, everyone recognised the efforts Lando was making to hold his P3, Jon exchanging a few words with you every now and again, going as far as pointing out how long Charles' stint was to with those tyres, "He's loosing grip, though", you pointed out.

When you heard the request for Lando to come to the pits, you scrunched up your face for good. It didn't feel right and, even though you didn't have the data in front of you, their explanation on the radio didn't make too much sense, "George will get in front at the pit lane exit", you groaned as you watched it happen on the screen.

Lando kept mostly quiet until the end of the race, and whenever he spoke, both you and Jon noticed the bitterness in his voice, exchanging a look with you this time.

At the end, Charles climbed up to fourth place and after a few brilliant overtakes from your boyfriend, he ended up in P5.

As he dropped two places, your heart sank, realising that the team's strategy really didn't work well and that the looks you exchanged with your boyfriend's trainer definitely had some reason to it.

Lando went on for his media duties, politely answering all the questions and refusing to engage in the ones where the reporters mentioned a potential mistake from the team and wanted to perhaps get a more efusive reaction from him.

As Lando walked closer to the garage, you could feel an antsy aura around it, quickly dissipating as he smiled and thanked them for their work and efforts, mentioning the debrief and how they would discuss it then.

You set the headphones back in their place and leaned against the wall on the corridor to the driver's rooms, not wanting to be in the way as everyone tidied, organised and got ready for the work they still had ahead.

Lando walked by you, squeezing your waist and kissing your forehead, "I'm going to change for the debrief, then we need to record the wrap up video of the weekend and then we can go to the hotel, okay?", he checked with you.

"Of course, I'm not in a rush, love", you smiled, kissing his cheek and squeezing his hand in yours for a bit.

Patting Oscar's back as he passed by you, you found a spot in the lounge where you could hang out, overlooking the track while reading your book when your phone beeped with a text from Adam.

From Adam

Hey, Y/N!

I'm sure Lando is in debrief now - we dropped him a text -, but we just wanted to know how he is doing after that race!

Love, Adam and Cisca

The fact that his parents trusted your enough to send that message was enough to warm your heart, quickly typing a reply so they wouldn't get worried.

To Adam

Hello! I guess it's good morning for you 😊

Yes, and I think this is going to be a long one! He's okay, not showing much, you know how he is - if he let's me, I'll get more information out of him!

From Adam

Yes, early wake up call today for us!

We're glad you're there with him, definitely eases our worries 🤗

Smiling at the text, you couldn't help but agree. You knew Lando well enough to the point where you knew where his mind was taking him - dating for almost four years did that to a couple -, so you were happy that maybe you could be a sounding voice when it was just the two of you.

"Video is filmed - I have my shoes on now -", Lando offered and you quirked a brow at him, "so we can go, I'll just tell Jon since he's riding with us", he smiled, kissing the top of your head before you got up, grabbing your cardigan from his driver's room and bidding goodbye to everyone.

As you were being driven back to the hotel, Lando sat next to you while Jon was sitting facing you two, you let your fingers walk along your boyfriend's thigh until it found his hand, touching it with your pinky to begin with and test the waters. Lando reacted quickly, lacing your hands together and giving them a squeeze while looking at your eyes as a silent thank you, a tight lipped smile playing on his lips.

"Tomorrow's flight is quite early, so we'll just meet here and then head to the airport then?", Jon checked with Lando.

"Yes, I'll send you the details", the McLaren driver retrieved his phone from his pocket, tapping the screen as he confirmed the details of the flight.

"Have a good night then, see you tomorrow!", Jon said as he waved, getting inside his room before you and Lando made your way to the one you spent the last couple of nights in.

Lando went straight to the bathroom, feeling bad for needing to be on his own for a bit. You had been there for him for all the highs and the lows and he recognised the voice in his head saying he didn't deserve your support was probably lying to him. Still, he quickly showered alone and got out of the bathroom, a white towell hanging low on his hips as he looked for his shorts and underwear in his suitcase, putting them on and scrunching up his curls with the towell in an attempt of drying the locks while giving them some shape.

After placing the towels back in the bathroom, he got back to the room and looked at you, making you stretch your arms so he could lay his head on your chest and cuddle himself against your body.

"Hey, I love you and I'm proud of you", you said, wanting to push the subject but not wanting to do something he didn't want to.

"Will you still love me if I never get on the podium again?", he asked, half joking but also half speaking his true thoughts.

"Lando, I'll love you regardless of whether or not you stand on the podium or anything like that", you stated, "a year ago, P5 and P8 would've been a good result for McLaren and this weekend, a series of events can explain most of what happened for that - the development they have done and have been working on will pay off".

"We didn't bring anything new and still managed to be the third fastest car on the grid", Lando agreed with you, "but it's like I'm fighting a losing battle. RedBull are in their own league and Ferrari brought big, positive changes - it's everything from the speed, to how long they can go for, how longs they can stretch their stints and so on", he sighed, "I can't do much more than what I'm doing, can I?", he mused.

"You got the maximum points you could get considering where your car stands compared to the others, Lando, you did the best you could", you comforted.

"We spoke about it in the debrief and we all learned with it, it seems", he commented, "and overall, that was the most we could do".

"It was, and I'm so proud of you, your fans are proud of you, the team are proud of you, your parents are proud of you - have you texted them back?", you questioned.

"How did you know they texted me?", he raised his eyebrows in question. They always called him after a race, so it wasn't like you knew it out of habit.

"Your father texted me asking how you were - they were a little worried, too", you noted.

"I'm surprised mum didn't call you straight away - she's not shy on telling her children in-law how much she loves them, but I swear every time she talks about you, it's like you've been one of our own forever, which is only a matter of time realistically", Lando said, not thinking much about it until the words sunk in, "what I meant was that she always says you're really good for me and that I'm really lucky to have you - which I agree with - and I was-", he rambled on and you were sure he wouldn't shut up unless you stopped him.

Kissing his lips once he shifted enough and looked up at you, you cupped his face, "I lived hearing that", you mumbled.

"Good, that's good", he assured, "but yes, I texted them back and I called after we filmed the video - mum told me to give you a kiss on her behalf", he smirked.

"I haven't received such kiss", you pretended to wonder, looking around the room, "maybe I need to go and get that kiss from someone el-", this time you were the one interrupted with a bunch of kisses being pressed all the way from your forehead to your chin, stopping on your lips a couple of times before Lando settled his chin back above your sternum.

"I have no idea what I did to deserve you in my life", Lando mused, a smile playing on his lips as his hands crawled under your t-shirt and squeezed your tummy and waist softly, "but I'm glad you're here, with me", landing his head back in your chest, "I love you".

"Is that comfy?", you giggled, "your boobs? Always! They're the best, baby", he smiled, seeming a little more positive from the initial assessment you did on his mood earlier.

#lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

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glitterquadricorn · 2 months

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spilled tea and hot gossip - f1 grid

+summary: there's nothing she loves more than spilled tea and hot gossip. +pairing: f1 grid x female!driver +warnings: cheating, mentions pregnancy, gossip.

a/n: this is just an idea that popped into my head.

I do not give my permission to have my work reposted. I do not give my permission to have my work translated. If I'm notified that you've stolen my work or claim it as your own, you'll be asked to take it down before I'll report you. End of discussion.

Any drama, gossip, or tea that is spilled on a formula one paddock, you best believe she's going to know about it because she's got eyes and ears everywhere. Like for example, the whole situation with Oscar, Daniel and Mclaren. Or how Fernando signed with Aston Martin and didn't tell anyone much less Alpine. Pierre wonders where, or who she's getting this information from, but she'd never reveal her source for they wish to remain anonymous.

"Thanks so much for helping, y/n. You've made our job a lot easier," Jon, a member of her pit crew, smiled and tapped her shoulder.

"I'm always happy to help!" she said. " Do you guys need anything else? If not, I'm going to head out."

"We should be all good to go. Again, thanks for the help."

"You guys have a good day!" she left out the back of the garage and walked down a relatively empty paddock with the exception of other teams' staff here and there.

She was almost at the entrance when from the corner of her eye; she spotted a man wearing a black and red Haas shirt. Whoever he was talking to she didn't know, and it wasn't her business. But what he told to said person on the phone shocked her.

"I messed up, man. I shouldn't have even slept with her," the man paused, running his hand down his face. "Oh, the girlfriend of a mechanic over at Alpha Tauri. But that's not even the worst part of it. She's pregnant and doesn't know who the father is."

The sound that came out of her mouth wasn't human, and she quickly had to pretend she saw something shocking on her phone because the man looked in her direction. Man, she couldn't wait to tell the boys.

The following day after scanning her id, she strutted down the paddock like a woman on a mission.

Spotting the dutchman, who conveniently was standing with Daniel, Charles and Pierre outside the redbull garage, she excitedly walked right over. "You'll never guess what I heard yesterday."

"Judging by your excitement, I assume it's something juicy." Pierre replied. Just by the excitement alone, he knew that whatever she was about to say was going to be good.

"Yesterday, I stayed back after qualifying to help my pit crew clean up and put things away. When I was done, I left and walked down a relatively empty paddock, but stopped when I overheard somebody from Haas talking on the phone. I don't know who he was talking to, because it's not relevant, but what is, is what he told them."

"Get to the point, y/n."

"I was getting there, Max," she paused. "He told them he slept with a girlfriend of a mechanic over at Alpha Tauri. That alone is pretty juicy, but what he followed it up with had my jaw on the floor. And he followed it up with and she's pregnant and doesn't know who the father is."

Gasps leave their mouth as their jaws drop just like hers did from the day before. Behind Charles, her pr manager, Tracy, waved her over.

"Enjoy the tea, boys." she smirked, patted Charles on the shoulder as she walked away.

---

I know Visa Cash App RB team name isn't Alpha Tauri anymore, but I hate the name Visa Cash App RB with a passion.

tagging:

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @patzammit @tinycyber @keenmarvellover @mrspeacem1nusone @lendeluxe @alexxavicry @allenajade-ite @catswag22 @eugene-emt-roe @wcnorris @bibissparkles @cherry-piee @khaylin27 @evie-119

#formula one x driver!reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x you #formula 1 x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader

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dontexpectmuch · 24 days

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Jude with a mechanical engineering student, and she's working on f1 and is a good friend of the drivers and jude gets jealous and hard launches at a race? She works for redbull and is friends with the real Madrid guys, ty, God bless

jude is aware of how much attention he gets, no matter where he goes or whom he talks to. so many people shy away from talking to him due to all the eyes that were on him, yet he tries to stay positive and look at the bright side of the picture. as a rising star, it can be hard to meet someone that would willingly hide their relationship from the world, though when he got to know you, he felt like his prayers have had finally been answered.

it was the miami grand prix he had been invited to, ferrari have shown their interest about his appearance multiple times and when his other friends finally had the time to come along, he immediately went to the race and enjoyed his time there.

it was also the place where he met the cute engineering student that was walking out of the rivals garage, cute cap with the official team shirt on, baggy pants and a book in hand. he sneaked away from the group and followed you to the water fountain in the middle of the two garages, desperately trying to look cool yet uninterested.

so when you two fall into a conversation [slight argument] about the team and who would win the race, jude knew that he had to keep in touch with you, exactly what he did.

now, two years later, the two of you have been in a private and secret relationship, something both of you enjoyed at the beginning. the relationship blossomed quietly, only his most trusted friends knew about it, same with you. having an intelligent partner who works for one of the best sports team ever is something that jude is incredibly proud [and turned on] of, it’s like a match made in heaven. no one could disturb your little bubble of happiness and peace, and you would like to keep it that way as long as you can.

but these days, jude really wants to post about his relationship, just to mark his territory. just to let all of those sneaky, weird, [and attractive, fuck] drivers know that their ‘friend’ slash engineer was off the market.

especially now, when all you talk about is the garage and the people you work with.

“well, and then i told max to-“

you immediately stop talking when you hear jude let out an annoyed sigh, eyes wide as you look at your boyfriend.

the atmosphere around you is quite comfortable, you’d say, or at least it is to you. it has been quite some since you were able to sit down and have a nice, home cooked meal together. normally your schedules clash during the week, and weekends were spent outside the house, exploring new places and trying new things.

and normally, jude would love to hear you talk about your week, about the new stuff you learned that he definitely did not understand, but the sparkle inside your eyes made it all worth it. he didn’t know why he is so annoyed about you talking about the person you literally work with, more likely work for, but just hearing the name drop from your lips makes him want to go and shoot a ball at all of their heads.

“uh, you okay, my love?” your concern for him makes jude melt, and he wishes that he could just ignore this negative feeling growing inside of him, yet he simply can’t.

he shrugs, corners if his lips turning slightly down, “don’t know, why don’t you ask your little friend max. that’s what you always do, right?”

he knew that this was the moment he royally fucked up, no turning back now.

when you frown and look at him with those confused eyes, jude gets even more worked up than he should.

as if you don’t know what he is talking about.

“i beg your pardon, jude?”

you called him ‘jude’, meaning you were also getting worked up about the situation, well, his behavior.

he scoffs again, getting up from the table to put his empty plate away.

it was delicious, he would say, but right now he just wants to be pissed about this whole situation [that he started].

you copy his movements, actually quite sad that your usual chat time after eating is interrupted by this petty argument.

“hey, ‘m talkin’ to you.” your confusion does not seem to go away, no matter how you try to look at the situation. jude simply takes your plate from your hands and places it inside the dishwasher, before he dries his hands to continue the conversation [discussion].

“all ‘m sayin’ is that you love to be seen with your little racer buddies instead of with me.” he moves out of the kitchen back to the dining table to pick up the other dishes and the drinks.

“what the fuck?” is all you can say about his statement as you take the drinks from his hands to put them into the fridge, “what do you mean i ‘love to be seen’ with them? i work with those people and actually get along with them, just like you do with your teammates.”

the tension [not the hot one] between you rises by the second and jude is once again walking around the apartment, “that’s not the same.”

“the fuck you mean it’s not the same? it literally is?”

a few minutes ago jude would have [maybe, probably not] admitted that he might have gone too far with what he had said to you, but now seeing you getting so offensive about something that bothers him, he no longer feels like he should back off. instead he wants to win this, he wants you to understand that he is right and that you being seen with others could be, no it is, disrespectful to your relationship.

“you are my girlfriend, why would you want to be seen with other guys?!” raising his voice was something he rarely did whenever you guys argued. he preferred to keep calm in order to avoid hurting you in any way. but right now, his voice was getting louder with each argument he made, heating up the whole conversation even more.

you genuinely did not understand why he would come up with this argument all of a sudden, it is not the first time that you are seen at max’ side at races or maybe even next to others. you had a healthy relationship with most drivers and pleasant conversations with them in between races and breaks. everyone knew that you are the intern who will soon work for the redbull racing team, and jude actually was the one to be the proudest of you. it is literally how and where you guys met.

“the reason why i am seen with them is because, one; i work with them. we have to talk a lot because of the development of the car and i still have to learn a lot from the other engineers. two, i get along with them, you know, like normal co workers do, because, fuck, why not? you know all of this.” you feel your throat straining with how much and how loud you are talking, but the rage inside of you somehow numbs the pain.

“so people thinking that you are dating one of them also comes with the job, yeah?”

jude now stands tall in front if you, nostrils flared and eyes wide. he isn’t mad at you entirely, he knows it, but more like at the situation and the people that dare to pair you with someone that is not him.

but you cannot know that he isn’t mad at you, because in your eyes it seems like he is blaming you for the stuff the media puts into the news. your heart beats faster than ever and this whole situation makes your head spin.

“i don’t control what the media says? like, it’s not in my hands? to them i am a single woman who is successfully working for a motorsport team, rumors are bound to happen?”

“well, there is always some truth behind rumors, right?”

something inside you snapped, “what about you, huh?!”

jude almost flinched when you suddenly raised your voice at him, a sight he has never seen before.

“you also get paired up with a new woman every fucking day, jude. do you see me complain about it? no! because i trust you.” right now, you really wished to cry. was it that hard to understand?

the comfortable atmosphere from a few minutes ago vanished entirely, coldness and a bitter feeling on your tongue seem to have replaced it. during the two years you and jude havr spent together, you never had such an argument to this extent.

“but i am never pictured next to those people! i never even talked to them ever in my life!”

suddenly still, your eyes widened, mouth dry as you speak up, “are you accusing me of cheating on you?”

silent.

jude looks at you with his mouth open, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

“no, never…” the stark contrast between your voices now compared to just a second ago is almost cinematic, as if you had practiced this scene multiple times already. silently looking at one another, eyes dancing around the others faces in order to understand what just had happened.

“do you also think that way when i talk to aurelien and eduardo?” your voice breaks as you speak up, a defeated feeling replaces the rage inside, “do you actually think like this of me?”

judes shoulders sack down as he listens to you speak, this is absolutely not something he ever thought of, nor would he ever dare to accuse you of such thing.

he wants to speak up, yet you quickly cut him off, “just for your information, to the media and the rest to the world, we both are single individuals who don’t even know each other. and all the guys on the grid know that i am a taken person, they would never do such thing.”

you scoff as you shake your head, turning around to go to the front door.

jude panics as he watches your fast steps, immediately following you, “what- uh, where are you going?”

you quickly put on your shoes and put your bag on your shoulders, not in the mood to continue any of this, “wanna go home.”

“but this is home-“

your head snaps to his direction, eyes cold, “apparently not. at least not now.”

jude closes his hand around your wirst, not wanting you to go away when the situation between you is so heated.

“let’s find a solution, babe, c’mon.” he begs, voice husky and desperate. he did not know that it would escalate like this, but now he regrets to even bring up this topic.

you sigh, all of this arguing took a toll on you and now you want to do nothing more but lay in your bed and not to think of anything anymore.

inhaling deeply, you look at jude, his big brown eyes never left yours anyway, and he truly does look like he wants to fix this, which you do too.

“listen,” you begin, taking one last deep breath, “you cannot accuse me of such thing and then expect me to do nothing about it-“

“i don’t want you to do anything, just, let’s stop arguing.”

scoffing, you tighten the grip on your bag, “you started all if this because apparently, you do not trust me, jude.”

“it’s babe-“

“it’s jude right now, don’t test me.” you threaten him, not in the mood for his little jokes.

shaking your head, an almost mocking laugh leaves your lips, “we decided to keep our relationship a secret. you, by the way, wanted to do it this way the most. i would have launched our relationship ages ago, because i trust you and i trust our bond. y’know, communicating and stuff.”

judes voice cracks slightly as he speaks up, deep sigh leaving his body as he tries to hold your hand, a sign that he is getting desperate, “i trust you, too, babe. ‘t’s just- i don’t know, like, rumors and shit and i don’t want you to have reporters on your neck at all times, y’know.”

you frown at his words, “but that does not explain why you literally sprung at me for mentioning max, or the others. when we first started dating, i already knew what would come along with being with you, and i would take it all, jude, everything.”

jude smiles at your words, now looking down at your hands, so you continue, “all those annoying rumors about me, people following me and what not, i genuinely will take it all, because i love you. not max, not lando nor charles or whomever you’re jealous of.”

“i ain’t jealous.” he rolls his eyes, slowly stepping closer to you.

“don’t lie to me, belli.” you smirk at him.

jude chuckles, his thumb dancing across your knuckles help you to be at ease.

“soo.”

“sooo?” you look at him confused, waiting for him to continue.

“do we just post a picture together? or like, do a sex tap-“

“shut it.” you pinch his waist, chuckling as he squirms away from your touch, “we will do a, hm, maybe a soft launch? yeah, something like that.”

jude groans, throwing his head back, “that takes way too long.”

“well,” you shrug, “ that’s what you get for literally yelling at me for doing my job.”

“and i’m sorry, love.” judes hand now caresses your cheek softly, head tilted down as his bog brown eyes apologetically look at yours, “next time, i will calmly ask you about something that bothers me, okay?”

“okay.” you smile at him, leaning into his touch.

“you have a race this weekend, no?”

“yeah, in belgium this time, why?”

“just because.”

“still trouble in paradise?” you hear landos [annoying] kind voice from behind you, making you draw your eyebrows together.

turning around, you tilt your head in question, “wait, how do you know?”

lando innocently smiles at you, shrugging his shoulders, “max and i are somewhat besties, y’know.”

“max.” you grumble, already planning on how to get your revenge from him.

“so? everything okay now?” lando questions again, this time in a slightly more serious manner than before.

“it’s always okay between us, just rocky at times.” you tell him, not stopping yourself from smiling when you think of your boyfriend.

lando nods his head at something behind you, “seems like goal-machine over there still wants to rip off my head, though.”

“goal-machine-?” you turn around and are immediately met with the sight of jude leaning against some tires in the garage.

he looks good, you must admit. sunglasses on too of his nose, oversized shirt with the first few buttons undone, night dress pants and matching shoes, a real snack.

a snack that should not be here, or well, a snack you did not know that would be here. so, you bid your goodbyes to lando and walk closer to jude, coming to halt a fee steps in front of him.

“eh, hi?” you greet him, confused but happy.

he smiles down at you, taking off his glasses to get a better look at you, “hey there, sexy lady.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes as you cross your arms in front of your chest, “not now, i am working, y’know.”

“chatting it up with little lad over there is quite some work, huh?” jude points at lando with his head, who still, you don’t know why, is standing inside the redbull garage, subtly [nit really] glancing at your direction every now and then.

“lando just likes to annoy me, nothing more.” you explain, smiling as you watch jude stand up straight.

“well, let’s annoy him back.” he smirks down at you.

“how-“

jude cuts you off by placing his soft lips on top of yours as his muscular arm sneaks around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. at first you feel like resisting, but the more he deepened the kiss, the more you could not get enough of it. tilting your head to gain better control, you feel up his chest before you place your hands at the back of his next, enjoying this public display of affection more than ever. maybe because it is the first time you’ve ever done something like this in a place like the garage-

you immediately push jude away, eyes wide open, “jude! there are cameras everywhere!”

he just smiles down at you, that little tease, before taking your hand into his, “you wanted to go public anyway.”

“i wanted a soft launch, though! i always wanted to soft launch a relationship.” you whine, moving closer to out your forehead against his chest in defeat.

“you can still soft launch it, love.”

you shake your head, still against his chest while you feel his hand move up and down your back, “no, let me grieve in peace, please.”

“love you too, babe.”

“shut it, you ruined my dreams.”

“you’re welcome.”

———————————————————————

enjoy 🥰

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #football x reader #football one shot #x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x you #football #jude bellingham fluff #f1 #f1 x football

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grogumaximus · 2 months

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#pls 😭😭#redbull mechanics

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gogobootz1 · 5 months

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At War

Luke Castellan x Reader [fem!daughter of Apollo]

Summary: There's nothing like some friendly competition, but when planning rival parties, you and Luke are a little less than friendly.

Word count: 2k

Every year, there came a time for the retreats- a chance for children of the gods to bond and have some special fun. One big retreat seemed pointless, so camp faculty allowed two. The two retreats accidentally split the boys and girls, and naturally, they turned into an (unofficial) competition. As one of the oldest and most experienced campers- you’d been volunteering to champion a retreat for years. Traditionally, you’ve hosted a slumber party equipped with PJs, dancing, games, movies, braid trains, nail polish, and basically anything anyone could want. You also, of course, have the best food. Each year, it’s been a hit, and it’s only gotten better with time.

The only problem is that you have tough competition. The day after the retreats, you always hear about what happened at the other one. Paintball, camping, fishing, mad romps through the wood, scary stories- barbecue. Everyone loved it. And every year, you’ve had to quietly conceal your anger and jealousy. It pains you to admit that Luke sure can throw a party (maybe even better than you can). But this year, you are more determined than ever to outdo him.

The two of you have long been in competition, and things have only escalated. As hilarious as Mr. D found both your antics last year, Chiron was extremely unhappy about the fact the two of you had exceeded the budget by miles. He’d told you both to reign it in this year or no more retreats. When he felt that didn’t sufficiently move you, he threatened to let other people plan them. You both caved and vowed to stick to the budget this year.

You’re always a little frantic the day of, and today is no different. To your chagrin, Luke is cool as a cucumber. It pisses you off to no end.

“Nervous?” A smug voice voice asks from behind your back. You drop the spoon you were using to push mashed potatoes around your plate.

You turn slowly on the bench, “Why should I be?"

“Usually, you’re pulling out your hair before the retreats,” he says skeptically, “perfectionism taking its toll.”

“Yeah? Well, my perfectionism makes my parties perfect,” you flaunt. The few sisters that can stand to be around you when you’re stressed roll their eyes. It’s clear to them this is escalating.

“What about when Susie vomited in your bouncy house last year?” He taunts, and you glare at him. That girl should not have been jumping after four bags of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos and two Redbulls- it was hardly your fault.

“How about when Aidan got a concussion after falling off the mechanical bull?” You snap back.

You don’t notice Luke’s shadow until he pipes in, “Are these people okay?”

“They signed waivers!” You say at the same time, and the new Poseidon kid takes a defensive step back. You send Luke a glare when you realize you spoke in sync. He huffs before smirking at you.

“Good luck with your sleepover,” he mocks, “You’re gonna need it.” Before you can reply, he marches away, protégée in tow.

“Eat shit!” You call out after him.

“That was weak, girl,” one of your sisters says.

“Shut up, I know,” you shake your head at her, “now come help me set up.” You drag her up by her elbow to make your sacrifices, then get to work.

Five hours later, the main hall looks great. Your disco ball is glimmering, the mini photo booth is equipped with feather boas and pink cowboy hats, the food is all laid out, and the stage you bribed some Hephaestus kids to build looks great.

“Perfect,” you whisper, pleased at your surroundings.

“Fucking finally!” Your sister throws her hands up and walks away. You’ve very likely driven most of your half-siblings insane today.

“Thanks for your help!” You call after her, and as she goes, you spot some prying eyes through the window. Percy, you think his name is, looks afraid now that you’ve caught him peering in through the window. In a few swift moves, you leave the room and block his exit from the patio.

“Can I help you?” You ask suspiciously.

“Just admiring your excellent disco theme,” he says, putting an ultra-sweet smile on his face. As charming as the boy is, you take your retreat very seriously and feel a deep-seated urge to protect it from potential sabotage.

“Mhmmm,” you nod, “and you wouldn’t happen to be reporting back to anyone about what you’ve seen?”

“Whaaaaaat?” Percy asks, awkwardly chuckling.

Your shoulders drop, of course, Luke would stoop to employing spies. You dig into your pocket and pull out a ten-dollar bill, “I’ll give you this if you act as a double agent.”

He eyes your money suspiciously, “Do you really think I can be bought?”

You roll your eyes and pull out another bill, “How’s twenty?”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” he grabs both bills from your hand and shakes it. Percy happily walks past you, shoving his new earnings into his pocket.

You grin, “Make sure he hears all about how awesome my party is!”

“I’m on it, boss,” he calls over his shoulder. After a short walk, he’s back to the boathouse lounge where Luke has been waiting for his report.

“Well?” The older boy asks him, jumping up from his spot on the couch.

Percy shakes his head solemnly, “Bad news, boss.”

“What?!” He asks, eyes wide. “Don’t tell me she went over budget. She didn't get another mariachi band, did she?” Percy shakes his head and files this new information away. With what he’s been hearing about the last few retreats, he’s almost sad to have missed them.

“No, but it does look super cool,” he nods, and it really wasn’t a lie- he saw a chocolate fountain on that snack table.

“Damn,” Luke’s face twitches in annoyance.

“But your party will be great too, I’m sure,” he smiles, nodding reassuringly.

“Of course, it will,” he says defensively, “make sure you check back in over there from time to time. I want to know how it’s progressing.”

“Sure,” Percy nods, but his concern at the competitiveness underlying this event grows. He wonders just how bad this will get tonight. But check back in he does, and he won’t deny he enjoys himself at the sleepover. Every time he visits, you give him a new sparkly mocktail, and the Aphrodite girls give him a new feather boa. At one point, he’s wearing heart-shaped sunglasses and eating some cake. He was very impressed when M&Ms fell out of the middle as you cut it. Apparently, it’s also one of your newest sisters’ birthdays- he’s heard whisperings of some big special present for her yet to come.

Each time Percy returns to the other retreat, he can see Luke get a little more tense. The fact that he’s exaggerating doesn’t help either. When he tells the older boy that you have an ice sculpture spitting Dr. Pepper, he thinks he sees steam pour from Luke’s ears. It’s not like people aren’t enjoying his party, but Percy can that Luke wants to one-up you and feels like he’s falling short.

“And I’ve heard she has a special surprise in store for Sophie since it’s her birthday. Apparently, she’s the newest addition to their cabin, so she wants to do something special,” Percy nods at him, eating a taco he had brought back from your party. Luke cuts him off by grabbing the taco from his hand just as he’s about to take another bite. “Hey!” He protests when Luke puts it right in the trash.

“When is this surprise?” He asks the twelve-year-old.

“The Aphrodite girls told me I should be back in like twenty minutes so I wouldn’t miss it,” Percy tells him.

“And when was that?”

“Like twenty minutes ago,” he shrugs, and Luke just stares at him. “Ohhhhh,” he says when he realizes how long it’s been.

“Come on,” Luke shakes his head and starts out the door, Percy in tow. They can hear the surprise before they see it, an ABBA song blasting out of the building. Only, they don’t realize who's performing it until they walk in. Along with two of your musically-inclined Apollo sisters, you’re dressed in bell bottoms and sleeves. And you look like you’re having the time of your life- until you spot them, that is.

“Look, look, look, look,” you pull the microphone away to mutter to Tanya. Her shock is visible, but you both keep performing anyway. The crowd goes wild at the end, and Sophie runs up on stage to give you a big hug. You let Tanya take over host duties and make your way through the crowd to the party crasher.

“That was,” Luke starts, but you are not keen to hear whatever he has to say about your outfit, or your performance, or your party.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

His expression instantly sours, “I wanted some Dr. Pepper from your ice sculpture, where is it?”

“What are you talking about?” You’re highly confused until Percy gives you the cut-it-out motion from behind Luke’s back. “We put it back in the freezer,” you say, and Percy gives you the thumbs up. No matter what you think of him, Luke’s not an idiot. He turns around in time to spot Percy’s gestures.

“Wait a second, are you two colluding?” He looks between the two of you in shock.

“You were colluding with him first,” you shrug, crossing your arms. “You really earned that twenty dollars, by the way,” you compliment the kid, and he gives you a pleased nod.

“Dude,” Luke turns toward Percy, betrayed.

“She outbid you,” he shrugs. “Hey, what if you guys just went to each other’s parties?”

You both eye the boy suspiciously, “Why would we do that?” You ask him, and Luke nods in agreement.

“Well, you’re both so desperate to know about the other’s party, so why don’t you just experience it for yourselves?” Percy asks, and when he feels you aren’t sufficiently moved by it, he tries again. “If you attend both parties, you can decide who wins.”

“Good enough for me,” Luke wanders off into your party.

“Yeah, okay,” you head for the door.

“Hopeless,” Percy mumbles, shaking his head.

An hour later, you and Luke meet in the middle of your respective parties. You stare at each other for a minute before you admit in sync, “I had fun.”

“We have to stop doing that,” you shake your head.

“Agreed.”

You’re both silent again for a minute. “The slip and slide was a good idea,” you say reluctantly, soap still in your hair, “low budget but lots of fun. Tubing was good too. And the campfire.” You had changed out of the disco attire and into shorts and a T-shirt over your swimsuit.

“Did you try-“

“Chris can really grill,” you nod. After some hesitance, you finally choke out a confession, “I am very displeased to call you the winner.”

“No way,” he shakes his head.

“What?”

“You totally won,” he shrugs, “the disco was killer.” You only now realize he changed into pajamas.

“You actually embraced the sleepover?”

He flicks some grass off your shoulder, “You gave my party a fair shot.” That’s true, and you nod, looking away for a second. “The chocolate fountain was a nice touch.”

“Thank you.”

“And I was trying to tell you earlier, but your performance was really cool,” he admits.

“Yeah?” A genuine grin grows on your face at this. Most everyone in the Apollo cabin loves music, but some of your half-siblings are more keen to perform than you. Hearing this, and from him especially, means a lot.

“Yeah,” he nods, smiling now too. “You’re the winner here.”

“Let’s call it a draw?” You offer, and he nods.

“What if we just worked together and planned one party next year?” He asked, and you pretend to consider it for a moment.

“That could be cool,” you nod, “imagine what we could do with the combined budget.”

He grins and scrunches his nose, “How about we enjoy this year’s party until then?”

“We could do that,” you nod, “where to?”

He swiftly wraps an arm over your shoulder and starts guiding you back to your party, “Let’s boogie.” You laugh, and he thinks it’s a sound he could get used to.

-----------------------------------------

I've been awake for too long so idk if this is coherent but I had fun <3

#luke castellan x reader #pjo fanfic #luke x reader #pjo series #luke castellan #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #charlie bushnell #luke castellan x you

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f1 · 2 years

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#Callum Nicholas - Redbull Mechanic story on Instagram (Some F1 fan asking him how he can work for a racist team like Redbull being a black p #f1 #formula 1

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libraryofloveletters · 10 months

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Find Your Way Home

Daniel Ricciardo x Engineer!Fem!Reader

Warnings: the curse that is mclaren racing, < mclaren/zak slander, the highs and lows of Danny's career, monaco 2016, horner warning lmao, a few bitter words, angst, unspoken feelings, sadness, 2022 silly season and a few swear words.

Word Count: 4.6k

Author's Note: after plotting this, i realized that The Red String Of Me And You follows a similar timeline but this one is more detailed and sooo much sexier of me so enjoy it :)

---

RedBull Racing - 2014; Montreal, Canada.

Under-qualified crossed your mind every time you got into your chair on the pit wall.

You had recently graduated and you were lucky enough to snag a job with Red Bull Racing. You were told it would be a job at the factory, that you would be handling the reviews from the races from an engineering point of view.

Now you were sitting on the pit wall in Montreal, your driver in your ear. "Are we set?" His voice came through.

Your eyes scanned over the screens, pressing the button. "We're all set, Daniel."

Daniel was gunning for his first race win and you've been hoping and praying every weekend that he'd win. It was your first time as a race engineer and you were starting to think you two hadn't fully clicked yet, hence why you've yet to get a win.

He starts in P6 and his teammate Sebastian, was in P3 this weekend. There's a lot of pressure when your teammate is a 4 time world champion and you're sure Daniel felt it, especially on weekends like this.

You sat patiently, buzzing into him once more before they started the countdown. "Be safe."

"Safe is my middle name, y/n."

"Whatever you say, Joseph." The use of his actual middle name earned you a laugh. The radio falls silent; three, two, one, lights out.

It's a gruesome 70 laps, there's overtaking left and right, Daniel fights his way up to P3 and you're praying he can do what he does best. You watch as the laps count down towards the final one.

67, 68, 69, and into the final corner. The navy car crossed the line and it takes you a second to catch yourself. Christian squeezes your arm from next to you, a massive grin on his face when you register what just happened.

"YOU DID IT!!" You shouted into the radio, Daniel's laughter and hollering filled your ears and your heart with love and happiness, "we did it!" he shouts, correcting you.

Everyone's running, you're following the mechanics to under the podium, all of you squished up against the fence like sardines as the navy team awaited their two drivers.

Daniel had won, followed by Nico in P2 for Mercedes and Sebastian in P3 for RedBull.

Seb runs over to his half of the garage, there's a sea of navy and everyone is mixed up together but when Daniel gets out of his car, he's looking for one person and one person only. He spots you, a big smile on your face and even though he knows you'd never admit it, there are tears in your eyes.

The driver jumps straight into your arms, putting all of his weight on you and the fence. A few of the mechanics squeeze into the hug, holding Daniel so he doesn't crush you.

Your hands cup his face, well what would be his face under the helmet. His visor is lifted, brown eyes meet yours; the crinkles by his eyes signalling to the massive smile under the helmet.

"We fucking did it!" His shout comes out muffled.

You smile, nodding. Daniel is standing again, still holding onto you. He leans into you, arms wrapped around you with his face buried in your shoulder. You kiss the side of his helmet, hand reaching down to rub the top of his back. You internally gag at the dampness that meets your hand but that was the least of your concerns.

Daniel just won his first race.

Proud was an understatement.

RedBull Racing - 2016; Monte Carlo, Monaco.

He could taste the victory.

The win was reaching out to him, the finish line on the tips of his fingers and he could feel it slipping away from him.

"Pit now," you called to him, Daniel was confused by your sudden decision. "Tyres are good, y/n."

"Team decision, please pull into the pit lane."

Daniel groans letting you know he'll be there in a few seconds.

You saw when he pulled into the pits, watching as the mechanics scrabbled to get the tyres ready in time. They had Daniel sitting there, his position falling with each wasted second.

"What the fuck!" His radio was still on, you weren't even sure what you could tell him in that moment to make him feel better. He pulls out with a sense of speed you'd never seen before. He finds himself racing to beat Lewis coming out of the pit lane but the Mercedes turns into the corner before he gets the chance too, overtaking him.

"Why did we pit?" He asks you, you pretend not to hear him as you look over at Christian. The older man gives you a look, urging you to answer the driver.

Daniel calls your name once again, his voice making you want to cry; all of the horrible emotions mixed in with the guilt of the horrible pit stop made you sick.

You finally answer; "team decision."

He scoffs, it's like you can feel the tension over the radio, see the way his hands tighten around the steering wheel as he goes into the tunnel. "Bullshit, y/n."

"I'm sorry Dan-" "Stop, nothing you could say will make this better."

And with that, the radio fell silent. The nauseous feeling builds with each passing second, your leg shaking and your eyes staying fixed to the screen until Daniel crosses the finish line in P2.

It was better than nothing but you knew he could have won the race, you knew he would blame the team, blame the crew, blame you for this loss.

Christian squeezes your shoulder as he gets up, a smile on his face - his quiet way of telling you good job. He knows how difficult drivers can be, especially when things like this happen. The race engineers are the first to take the blame, you called him into the pit so you'd take the brunt of the anger.

You nod, hearing Daniel's voice over the radio, "place?"

"P2. Well done, Daniel."

"Okay."

Daniel stood next to Lewis, Checo on the other side of the Mercedes driver. It was quiet as you watched Daniel shake the champagne bottle, spraying over his fellow drivers. He had a smile on his face but you knew he wasn't happy. You knew him like the back of your hand and once again, the nauseous feeling creeped up the back of your throat, the feeling strangling the life out of you with each passing second. You had to go, you couldn't stand there and watch him like that, knowing you were the one he was blaming.

And that he did; not in so many words but the bitterness in his voice and way he spoke was enough to tell you he did not want to be there.

The interview replayed in the debrief that afternoon, the press officers wanting to go over something he had said.

"It hurts, this one hurts a lot. More than any other."

His words hurt you.

You couldn't even bring yourself to look at him, let alone be in the same room as him. There was a sense of despair, you couldn't shake it.

It wasn't until you were about to leave that you found yourself turning back, walking in the direction of his driver's room. You stopped outside the door; D. Ricciardo, 3 - with an Australian flag beside it. As you were about to knock, Michael opens the door, a bit shocked to see you.

"Is he in there?" You asked quietly and he nodded, stepping aside to let you in. Michael shuts the door on his way out, leaving the two of you alone.

Daniel's yet to turn around or yet to realize you were there. "I'm sorry," you speak, your quiet voice startling him. "I'm not sure what went wrong."

"Everything did."

"It wasn't my decision."

"You're my engineer; when I'm out there, it's me and you. It was your decision, y/n. Only yours."

"I'm sorry, Daniel. I really am."

"Nothing you can say will fix it, and I know you're sorry but right now, I don't want your sorry."

You nod, taking a step back. "Then what can I say? Or do?"

"You can leave," his arms fold over his chest. "Because if you stay, I might say some things I can't take back. I know we aren't cool right now but I don't want to hurt you, y/n."

"You already have," you give him a tight lipped smile, the sadness clear across your face. "Goodnight Daniel."

RedBull Racing - 2018; Monte Carlo, Monaco.

It was off to a good start, Daniel had managed to give it his all and snag pole position on Saturday. He was in a good mood, there's a smile on his face and the sun was shining down on Monaco which was a nice change from the rain that was setting up in the morning.

The cars on the grid, the drivers counting down the seconds to lights out. You buzz into him, waiting to hear the little click. Daniel's breathing comes through from his side.

“50% done, remember?” You tell him.

“50% done.” He says, the radio goes quiet as he waits for lights out.

Daniel drove amazingly, despite the issues the car was giving him. He finds himself aggravated half way through the race, the car giving out on him and losing power; thus losing hope in himself. The win was slipping through his fingers all over again with each passing corner and turn.

The weight was lifted off his shoulders when you watched him cross the finish line as the winner.

"P1 baby!!!!" You shout into the radio, Daniel's hollering fills the line and a big smile on both of your faces. "We fucking did it!!" He laughed, driving his cool down lap.

You were by the fence, watching as he climbed onto the halo of his car. Daniel's hand in a fist, placed on his chest as the team cheered. You're sure you've got the goofiest grin on your face, squished between Christian and Adrian.

Much like he did after his first race win, he makes a beeline straight for you, his arms open as he jumps into yours. Once again, you find yourself struggling to hold the man up but you try your best, arms wrapped around him.

Daniel's squished against you, your hands on his helmet, holding where his jaw would be. "Got that other 50%."

"Redemption day baby!" He shouts, giving you one last squeeze.

The rest of the afternoon was like heaven on earth; the smell of champagne, RedBull and chlorine covered everyone, you all watched as Daniel dived into the pool of the energy station.

"Come on!" He shouts to you but you shake your head, "I'm not getting in there."

Daniel pulls himself out of the pool, running over to you. "Dan, no." Your finger stuck out to warn him, the man comes closer. "Stop it," you get up, about to run away. He grabs you before you get the chance to run away, his arms wrapped tightly around you before he jumps into the pool.

"Daniel!" You scream when you get back up to the surface, "oh my god!" You laughed, your hand passed over your face to wipe away the water. He laughs, swimming - more like blobbing his way over to you, his race suit was weighing him down.

He grabs your arm, pulling you to him. The team photographer takes a photo of the two of you; arms wrapped around each other, covered in disgusting pool water with the world's biggest million watt smiles on your face.

You smile at the man next to you, "I'm so proud of you."

"I'm proud of you," he smiles, hugging you once more. "I couldn't have done it without you."

RedBull Racing - 2018; Abu Dhabi.

The announcement over the summer break threw everyone for a loop.

Breaking News: Daniel Ricciardo set to join Renault Racing for the 2019 season.

You weren't sure how to handle it or what prompted it.

Well that's not entirely true; after Monaco, things went downhill fast. There was bad result after bad result and it was weighing heavily on him.

When he returned from the summer break, you didn't say anything to him about the departure from the team. You knew he must have thought about it, you don't just up and leave a team just like that. It was a hard decision for him to make.

The last thing you wanted to do was make him feel worse.

It was his last day, the race was over and Daniel had made his rounds to say goodbye to everyone. You had been busy when he made his way around the garage and hospitality but you felt like a general goodbye wasn't enough for the man who you have spent almost every day with for the last 4 years of your life.

You knocked on the door of his driver's room, Michael smiles when he opens the door. "Come in, y/n."

Daniel turns when he hears your name. "I uh, I forgot something in the garage, I'll be back." Micheal says, announcing that he's leaving so you'd get a moment of privacy.

The two of you were quiet, looking at each other for a moment before you spoke.

You break the silence. “So this is it?”

“Yeah.” He nods, shifting from one foot to the other. You hum, lips pressed together as you look around. You'd never seen the room so empty. “Do you really have to go ?”

Daniel smiles, “afraid so, bags are packed.”

“You could always unpack.”

He smiled, his heart aching at the sight of you. You reached out, your hand placed on his warm cheek. “But you’ll come back, right?”

A sad smile on his face, bringing his own hand up to rest on yours. “In another life, maybe.”

“You promise?” You stuck your pinky out towards him.

He nods, interlocking his pinky with yours like you were children. “I promise.”

Renault Racing - 2020; Imola, Italy.

The rain poured down, the night sky as dark as it could possibly get as you pulled your hood over your head; the race hadn't gone as well as you'd like but you were no longer needed for the night, on your way back to your hotel for some sleep and then home before you head off to Turkey.

You could barely see where you were going let alone hear anything over the rain. The sudden shelter over you caused you to look up; an umbrella, a black and yellow one to be precise.

The man next to you smiles when you turn to see who was next to you. "Hello stranger," he grinned, the big smile on his face.

"Hello Daniel," you smiled.

The two of you hadn't spoken much since he left RedBull, it was a hi and a hello here and there in passing but you've yet to have a proper conversation. Frankly, you aren't sure what to say without it being awkward.

"Need a ride?" He asks, his arm over your shoulder to pull you away from the rain. "If it's not too much trouble." You pull the hood off of your head, flattening a few fly aways.

Daniel leads you towards the parking lot, holding the umbrella over your head until you get into the car. The man backed out of the parking spot, the sound of the rain on the windshield filled the silence, you translated the road signs in your head as he passed them by.

"You looked good up there today," you say quietly, Daniel glanced at you when he came to a stop. "You were always suited for the podium."

"Top step though," he smiles and you nod in agreement. "I'm sorry.. about the race. Sucks for Max and Alex."

You shrugged; A DNF for Max and P15 for Alex, so all in all, a shit weekend. "That's racing, what can you do?"

"The good and the bad." He pulls off when the light turns green. "You know how it is," you smiled, picking at the chipped nail polish on your index finger.

"Daniel, can I ask you something?"

"Oh full name, you've got me shakin' in my boots, y/n; but yes you can."

You shift in the leather seat, smooth and expensive and suddenly you're aware of how wet your hoodie is. The question you wanted to ask slips away momentarily as you think of how much this must be damaging the seat.

"Y/n," he calls out to you, glancing over to make sure you were alright after you had gone quiet. "What did you want to ask me?"

"Why are you running, Daniel ?"

The question catches him off guard, the car comes to a stop as he pulls into the parking lot of your hotel. His jaw hung open a bit as if he was unsure how to answer you; which he was. You watched as he blinked, trying to gather the thoughts in his head into a cohesive sentence.

"I'm not."

You can't help but chuckle; those who are running never seem to realize that they are, in fact, running.

"You are. You have a habit of doing that, Daniel."

You reach over, your hand rests atop of his; Daniel's skin is warm in comparison to yours that's still ice cold from the rain. His free hand moves, his index finger tracing up and down your hands, from your knuckles down to your wrist; another habit of his. He would distract himself during boring debriefs, his fingers pinching at yours under the table.

He's quiet, still unsure how to answer the statement that he knows in his heart was true. His fingers wandering over your hand, the raised skin by your thumb felt out a pattern identical to his; a rose in the same spot only slightly smaller in size.

Daniel had talked you into it. Another habit of his, getting you to do things you'd never do otherwise.

You were scared, you thought it would hurt but somehow he managed to talk you into it. There you were in his hotel room, Daniel's hand in your free one as you two got matching tattoos.

It felt like a million years ago - so much has changed since then.

You speak again, breaking the silence. "I hope you find what you're looking for at McLaren. You deserve some peace, Dan. You and I both know it."

McLaren Racing - 2021; Monza, Italy.

Back where he belongs.

A hell of a drive, something only Daniel could have pulled off after the horrendous start that was McLaren. You knew it was the car, not him; if anyone asked you, the car was always at fault. Daniel was one of the most talented drivers you had ever come across and had the pleasure of working with. You'd tell anyone who asked, anyone who'd listen to you.

It was a lacklustre weekend for the team; Checo was in P5 and Max had a DNF after an accident with Lewis, which caused both drivers to lose out on points that were needed for the championship.

Despite RedBull not having a driver on the podium, you and a few of the mechanics that used to work on Daniel's side of the garage went to watch the podium to cheer him on.

You watched as he and Lando did a shoey, your face twisting into disgust much like the younger McLaren driver. Valtteri watched in a bit of confusion and disgust, shaking his head as he took a swing of champagne from the bottle like a normal person.

The champagne bottle in one hand and the other on the railing as he climbed up. Daniel shouts, a big grin on his face as he lifts the bottle above his head. Everyone cheers for him, clapping and shouting for the winner. You were needed back in the garage for a meeting so you couldn't stick around long but you made sure to text Daniel.

To Daniel Ricciardo: Congrats winner! Back on the top step.

You got caught up in the meetings, back to back that felt never ending. Eventually you have a chance to check your phone but when you feel your pocket, it's not there.

You must have put it down somewhere. You find yourself retracing your steps, asking each person you saw as you passed by.

"Y/n!" GP calls for you, getting your attention. "Looking for this?" He holds up a phone with a navy blue case, your initials inscribed in gold on the bottom.

You let out a breath, "how'd you know?"

He hands the phone over to you, shrugging. "You know I always know." You roll your eyes at your co-worker's theatrics and thank him for your phone before walking off. You see you've missed a few messages so you scroll through. One in particular catches your eye.

From Daniel Ricciardo: Thanks boss lady! Congrats to you too, you helped make me the man I am today.

The message pulled on your heart strings; it was true. You and Daniel were so young when you got paired up together. You learnt a lot about life and yourselves, how to be a good person and what you wanted from life, and most importantly, how to get it.

You grew up together and Daniel would always hold a special place in your heart.

McLaren Racing - 2022; Spa-Francorchamps, Belgium.

You couldn't believe it.

After everything he's done for the team, he'd hurt him like that. What could you expect from a team when their CEO was a walking snake?

It was a chain reaction.

Sebastian had thrown everyone for a loop in Hungary, announcing that he would be retiring at the end of the 2022 season. That left Aston looking for a replacement that came from Fernando. There was an opening at Alpine now which they just assumed they'd fill with their reserve driver, Oscar.

Safe to say Oscar wasn't a fan of that plan, actually he wasn't even aware of that plan.

While all of this was going on, Daniel had publicly committed to McLaren for the next season and McLaren was giving away his seat to different drivers behind his back, including none other than Alpine's reserve driver, Oscar.

Eventually it did come out that Daniel would be leaving McLaren at the end of the 2022 season to no fault of his own.

Returning from the summer break, everyone is left to face the music; particularly Daniel.

His music shuts off when he pulls the key from the ignition. You had forgotten your pass in the car, walking all the way back to the parking lot to get it.

"Morning, y/n!" Daniel grins, stepping out of the car.

You smiled at him, knowing you can't show the anger you were feeling to that wretched team he has to work with for the rest of the season. "Morning, Danny. How are you?"

He laughs.

The question feels so stupid, he feels so stupid. Obviously there's the obvious, he's angry, upset, sad, mad; at who was the question. There's so many thoughts in his head, he isn't sure how to answer your question.

"Daniel, c'mon. Seriously. "

"I'll be okay, y/n. Life works in weird ways."

A huff slips past your lips, arms folded across your chest much like a disapproving mother. "Life working in weird ways is finding something you thought you lost years ago, not you getting sold out of your seat without your knowledge."

He gives you a sad smile, nodding in agreement. "I know."

You can't help but reach out, a hand on his shoulder. "You'll be okay."

"I always am, aren't I?"

Red Bull Racing - 2022; Abu Dhabi.

Headphones covered your ears, legs folded under you as you went over the last set of race footage.

You hadn't heard the door open, your eyes glued to the screen only looking away to scribbling something down on the page next to your laptop.

You barely get a second to look back before someone's hands over your eyes, startling you. Instinctively, you brought your own hands up, grabbing the person. The raised skin along the wrist and the arms was enough to signal who it was but the smell of his cologne filled the room. You let go of his arms, pulling the headphones off your ears.

Daniel smiles, his hands on your shoulders before you stand up and turn to face him. “Miss me, miss me, now you gotta-“

“Gotta what, Dan?”

“Kiss me,” he says, his signature cheeky grin on his face. You can’t help but smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You smooth the wrinkles on his navy blue shirt, admiring him in the colours that meant home to him, to you.

Your hands held his face, “you came back.”

“Pinky promises are sacred.”

“That they are.”

Scuderia AlphaTauri - 2023; Spa-Francorchamps, Belgium.

He's back on the grid, his focus was on racing.

Daniel's excited to be back, it felt good to be back. Racing wasn't a burden anymore. Yuki was happy to have him, his new teammate welcoming him with a smile and a hug as did the rest of the Alpha Tauri team before he made his way to his driver's room.

The door was unlocked, left ajar slightly. Daniel just assumed the team was doing a last check, making sure things were in order.

He wasn't expecting a person to be in there. He found a woman, her back turned to him as she scribbled down something on the board.

He knows that handwriting from anywhere. The words let's fucking go written in all caps in bright blue.

"Hello," he calls, you turn with the marker still in hand. "Hello," you smiled.

Daniel can't help but laugh, "what are you doing here? Come to welcome me back ?"

"Something like that."

At that moment, Daniel noticed you weren't wearing your usual navy blue uniform. Today was different; a different logo, a different cut.

"What are you wearing? Why are you wearing that?" He points to the Alpha Tauri logo on your shirt.

Your brows furrow, a bit confused by his reaction. You thought he'd be happy to see you. "Do you not need a race engineer or.. you're just gonna wing it? Maybe you could borrow Michael to do it?"

"Don't be a smart ass," he rolled his eyes, dropping his bags as he walked over to you. "Thank you," he whispers, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

You pat his back, trying to wiggle away from him. "No need to thank me, we have a lot of work to do."

"I've barely been here for 5 minutes and you're already hassling me."

"Someone's gotta do it," you smiled, leaving him there to settle in.

It wasn't until it was time for practice that you saw the man again, you're across from him on the pit wall, looking over the stats before you hear the radio buzz.

“We all set?” He asks.

You look over the screens. “All set. Be safe.”

“Safe is my middle name, Y/n.” The words remind you of the path you walked along many many years ago.

You smiled, waving to him as he pulled out of the garage. “Whatever you say, Joseph.”

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formulawolff · 9 days

Text

ii. "think about my offer" - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 2.8k

warnings: cursing, eventual smut, drug & alcohol usage, power imbalances, age gap relationships, flirting, banter, yearning, use of fic tropes, yadayadayada the works

prev. | next.

sypnosis: with the second grand prix of the season well on its way, there is a lot at stake. not only with the race, but other matters as well.

darkness creeps into the motorhome, the lights of the team motorhomes and paddocks illuminating the space. all around you, everything was brushed with a soft white glow.

his fingers remain under your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact. in the dim light, you can barely make out the glint swimming in his depths. what was it? desperation? anticipation? you weren’t sure.

toto was a complex man. you were well aware of that.

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

there were days where you would see him glowering around the mercedes paddock, engaged in heated exchanges with engineers. there were moments where you would watch a glimpse of his radiant grin, dimples and all, as mercedes would successfully place or land a podium. of course you had heard the stories about him and his outbursts. his mood seemed to change in a matter of seconds, especially these days.

well, could you really blame him?

mercedes had dominated the world of formula one for so long. with lewis hamilton earning eight world championships, breaking barriers and records along the way, mercedes was the top team. it was a team many drivers dreamed of racing for. when you entered the world of formula one, you could barely get one foot in without hearing the word mercedes or the name lewis hamilton.

that was until redbull had entered the picture in 2022.

now, they were struggling to even maintain second place. hell, there were some races where the team would barely make finish without crashing a car. or suffering from a malfunction.

mercedes was no longer the team. they were on the same level to ferrari and mclaren, fighting tooth and nail for those second and third spots on the podiums.

additionally, you couldn’t help but face the glaring facts. lewis hamilton was leaving mercedes once the 2024 season was complete. their integral driver, the one who had earned them their reputation, their titles, was making an exit.

was there something behind that? something more than the speculations and gossip?

however, you squeeze your eyes shut, sucking in a shaky breath.

“why do you want me on mercedes? these days i feel more like a liability to my team than an asset. i’m sure you just saw the spectacle in the press room.”

“because you’re an inspiration,” the notes in his tone are gentle, “you have inspired so many women to pursue their passions in the world of formula one. not just in terms of racing, but for mechanics, engineers, journalists. you have encouraged so many people to do what they love. you are confident. you know your talents and you utilize them. you have so much fucking potential and it makes me so irrationally angry that james does not see that.”

brows furrowing, your hand grasps toto’s wrist, pulling it away from your face, “does this have something to do with james? it’s common knowledge that you like to hold grudges, toto.”

the principal coughs slightly, “that may have something to do with it.”

“then my answer is no,” venom oozes out of your words, “i’m not some pawn to be used as a ��fuck you’ to james for leaving mercedes. i’m not taking any part in that. i’m going to need you to leave.”

“that’s fine,” toto nods, responding coolly, “i figured you’d react this way. you are extremely close with james.”

“well no shit,” you mutter, pointing towards the door, “mr. wolff, i am going to ask you kindly once again. please leave.”

“i will,” placing a hand on your shoulder, toto locks eyes with you once more, “think about my deal, little dove. in the meantime, i’ll be waiting.”

“waiting for what?”

“if you’ll accept my deal,” his thumb massages along your collarbone, “you didn’t say yes, but you didn’t say no. i can tell you’re considering it.”

“you’re stubborn,” you retaliate, yet the pressure along your collarbone is relieving, the sore muscles relaxing, “they weren’t wrong about that.”

“i am quite the stubborn man, schatz,” toto can sense your exterior crumbling as his hand glides towards your shoulder blade, massaging gently.

“i know you’re manipulating me with your extremely good looks and nice hands.”

“and yet,” toto’s voice is low and he leans in, mouth hovering by your ear, “you’re falling for it.”

“are you flirting with me, toto wolff?”

“maybe i am,” his breath fans against your ear as his hand delves lower, fingertips brushing along your ribcage, “it seems to be working. look at you, nearly crumpling to your knees at my touch. how long has it been since a man has touched you like this, schatz?”

it takes everything in you not to let out a groan as his hand rests on the small of your back, “y-you need to leave.”

“i will this time,” he murmurs, “but consider my offer, little dove.”

a vibration on the countertop interrupts the principal. snapping out of your trance, you pluck your phone, the illuminated screen notifying you that you had a couple of missed calls, and numerous text messages.

one particularly caught your eye.

it was daniel.

i’m going to be on my way in five. i hope you’re okay. i know you probably don’t want to talk about the press conference very much, but we can just cuddle or something.

“oh fuck.”

toto towers over you, eyes scanning over your phone, “i take it that is my cue to leave.”

“your cue to leave was fifteen minutes ago,” your tone is dry, yet he cracks a smile.

“i hope you know i’m going to keep pestering you until you give me an answer. have a good night, little dove. i’ll see you around, yeah?”

“sure,” you respond. placing two hands on his back, you give him a small push, “you need to go before daniel thinks something weird is going on.”

“is he your boyfriend or something?” toto obliges to your action, the austrian beginning to stroll towards the door of the motorhome.

for him, the exit was merely a few strides. but fuck, was he sticking around. daniel was going to be there in a matter of seconds. who knew what would happen if they happened to cross paths.

similar to toto, daniel was not one to let things go.

“no!” you snap, “leaaaavveee!”

“fine, fine,” toto huffs, “think about my offer, schatz. i will see you around.”

as the principal slides out of the door, you bring a hand to your temple, massaging it.

what the actual fuck just happened?

seconds later, a series of knocks breaks the silence.

“come in!”

daniel peeks his head in, concern painting his features as he notices your state, “why are you still in your suit?”

shrugging you point to your phone, “i was in the middle of an intense phone call when you texted.”

“ah,” he opens the door, a bottle of wine in one hand, a bag in the other, “i brought food, if that’s all right? i figured you would need some after that prick grilled you in the press room.”

“can we talk about something else?” you groan, crossing over to the couch. you flop on it dramatically, earning a laugh from daniel.

“we could talk about how max adores you. i think kelly has some competition.”

“i wouldn’t say that,” you lift your head up, fighting a smile as daniel pulls a series of parcels from the bag, “what did you get?”

“something i knew the american would like,” he teases, ripping open a few wrappers, “a classic cheeseburger with fries. i hope they’re not soggy. i ordered it plain since i know how you are about condiments.”

“no shake with that?” you giggle, sitting up. wrapping your arms around daniel, you bury your head into his shoulder, “it’s a been a fucking day, let me tell you.”

“yeah?” he stuffs a fry in his mouth, “tell me about it.”

“well,” you’re tempted to spill every single detail about what just occurred merely minutes ago. however, as daniel’s gaze meets yours, you hesitate, “i’m concerned about my future with williams.”

“why do you say that?” his eyes narrow, brow furrowing, “you’ve never said anything like that till now. did something happen on the way back from the press conference?”

“no, no, no,” you respond a little too quickly, “i just – i don’t know. you of all people know how quickly things change in this environment and–”

“hey,” daniel lays a hand on your thigh, “i think you need some rest. you’ve had a real fucking busy day. we can talk about your future plans in the morning.”

“but what if i want to talk about them now?”

“you of all people know that i am not one to tell people what to do or how to live their lives,” daniel’s eyes harden, the words stern, “but you need to decompress. take your mind off racing for a minute. your life is not all about racing. you need to take care of yourself too.”

“i know,” you allow him to wrap an arm around your shoulders, bringing you in close, “it’s too much to think about sometimes.”

“tell me about it,” daniel places a peck on your temple as you nestle your head into his collarbone, “how about we eat, and maybe we can talk about it later?”

“sounds like a plan to me,” you nod, “hey, i have a question for you.”

“and that is?”

reaching for a box of fries, you fiddle with it, “are there speculations that we’re dating?”

“how do you think that went?”

james is to your right, tablet in hand. absentmindedly, you fiddle with the visor on your helmet, “all right.”

“just all right?” james queries, “you have pole position for tomorrow and you think that went just all right?”

“well,” you shrug, “we all know that max is going to overtake me, so i can’t be too hopeful.”

“such a pessimist,” james chuckles, placing a tender hand on your shoulder, “you don’t seem like you’re quite here today. i don’t want to press, but is something on your mind? you know you can tell me, right?”

there was quite a lot on your mind, actually.

in the days following the bahrain grand prix, it was almost as if your mind was a torrent of anxiety, fear, and numerous emotions. there were too many to decipher, constantly overwhelming you, distracting you from the matter at hand.

although you felt like you weren’t quite on this planet, you somehow managed to breeze past max in qualifying. it was only by hundredths of seconds, but it was a victory nonetheless. charles leclerc was behind max in the third position on the grid. alex was twelfth, which was not great but not terrible.

the encounter with toto was ever-present, consuming your thoughts whole. part of you wanted to confess the entire situation to james, but you knew that you had to keep it to yourself. this was no time to stir up any drama or rivalry between the two principals.

you couldn’t stop thinking about the way his hand drifted, how his voice shifted when he spoke to you. it was a far contrast from the way he spoke in interviews or to his drivers. it was rich yet husky, brimming with lust. there were gentle notes inflected in it as well, almost if he was admiring you. it was reminiscent of how one would speak of their favorite piece of artwork, or their most prized possession.

from his point of view, were you really a prize to be won? were you really that important? or were you the latter?

were you simply a pawn in his game?

the way he looked at you told you a different story.

there was no calculation. no coldness. there was no trace of the hardened, steely gaze he usually presented to his peers, to journalists, and to the general public.

there was simply a softness. as if you were one of his weak spots. you could remember him looking at you hungrily, as if he was taking in every single detail of the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

since the encounter in your motorhome, you had only bumped into the principal twice. once was on your entrance to the paddocks with james, where you exchanged formal greetings. the other was after the last practice session, where he congratulated you for your time, wishing you luck in qualifying.

the most odd aspect of it all was that you could count the number of exchanges you had with the principal on your fingers. most of it was formalities, either with the press lurking around, or when you attended events. there were no personal meetings before. it was all business or related to racing.

so he truly meant it when he had mentioned he had his eye on you for a while.

the only thing you could remember was an afterparty after the monaco grand prix in 2023. although max had won the race, both lewis and george had placed fourth and fifth. those were significant placements, especially on a track like monaco. you had placed eleventh, which was pretty monumental at the time.

around four a.m. at the afterparty, toto approached you. his face was flushed, cheeks tinged nearly crimson from the alcohol. the scent lingered on his breath, his hair was tousled, and a sheen of sweat clung to his skin. yet he was still utterly gorgeous, offering you a brilliant smile.

“i didn’t think the golden girl of formula one would make an appearance!”

“golden girl?”

“well of course,” he nodded fervently, the words slurred ever so slightly, “you shine like the sun. so that means you’re a golden girl!”

“mr. wolff,” your laughter was like bells, ringing so beautifully in the principals’ ears, “i think you’re pretty drunk.”

“let’s get a drink or two together. then you can really see that i’m not the big bad wolf.”

you ended up declining his offer, but he didn’t persist, leaving you to join daniel, lando, and oscar on the dancefloor. your heart was racing, and you were sure it had nothing to do with the pounding bass or alcohol consumption.

it was due to the fact that you had a tiny crush on the principal.

ever since you had sat behind the wheel of a race car, you were attracted to the principal. in your teenage years, you had dreamed of racing for mercedes, under the wing of toto. you swooned whenever you logged onto tumblr and read fanfics. you were nearly breathless every time you saw him pop up on your youtube feed.

fuck, even when you watched drive to survive on netflix, you couldn’t help but catch yourself rewinding back to the interviews with toto.

so when he offered to buy you a drink or two in monaco, you had to bite your tongue to say yes. when he entered your motorhome and had you pinned against the counter, you were a little weak in the knees. when he used little dove or schatz, it did leave your heart skipping a beat.

since that moment in monaco, things had been strictly professional. now, that line was starting to blur thanks to the motorhome incident. every time you noticed the principal, you could sense the tension in the air. it clouded nearly everything, thick and electric, sending a shiver down your spine every time the two of you locked eyes.

there was no doubt that the team principal was breathtaking. yet, he was almost thirty years older than you. additionally, you couldn’t help but think about the way the entire formula one world would react the moment they caught wind of mr. wolff and the american girl. the horrible treatment from the media would only skyrocket.

there was also the other elephant in the room.

after you asked daniel whether or not there were speculations the two of you were dating, he distanced himself. although he had said no, you couldn’t help but wonder if he wanted the world to think the two of you were together.

before, the two of you were almost inseparable. after alex, he was the first driver to welcome you to the world of formula one with open arms, often encouraging you, offering advice, and defending your name tirelessly. he was constantly reposting videos of you all over his social media, captioning them along the lines of, “look at my american girl go!” or “go best friend, that’s my best friend!”

of course, there were little rumors swirling around on social media that the two of you were an item. fans often made edits of the two of you, saying things like, “they’ll never tell us they’re dating but in my head they’re together” or “that aussie boy loves his american girl <3”

now, you found yourself distracted. too distracted. between the whole toto debacle, questioning your loyalty to williams, the benefits of joining mercedes, and daniel leaving you out high and dry, you were a mess.

a hot mess, at the very least.

to make matters worse, tomorrow was the biggest race of your season. if not, the biggest race of your life.

and god only knew what tomorrow was going to bring.

thank you so much for reading! let me know if you would like to be tagged! <3 this is going to be a multi-chapter series so buckle up y'all. it's about to get juicy!

#f1 #formula 1 #toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff x y/n #daniel ricciardo #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc #max verstappen #lewis hamilton #george russell

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